Pentecost 20: The Gracious Generosity of God.

Jonah 3.10-4.11
Psalm 145.1-8
Philippians 1.21-30
Matthew 20.1-16

Driving down Caldwell towards Visalia, I was reminded that we are beginning the grape harvest, and so today’s gospel seems particularly appropriate. The vintage season in the Holy Land – a period from July to August – coincides with our own; and those we see working in the vineyards surrounding our city are not fundamentally different from the workers Jesus describes in his parable: days labourers who may only work as and when there is need. For us, here in Central Valley the resonances between what we see in the week and what we have heard this morning are almost palpable. At the same time, there is also something in this parable which touches on the finality of all things, the final reckoning, the reminder that in the end “the last will be first, and the first will be last.” (Matthew 20.16) This is the last parable Jesus tells in the Gospel of Matthew before he and his friends enter Jerusalem for the final time. Indeed the verses directly after this parable – verses 17-19 – are Jesus telling his friends about the fate he is sure awaits him in Jerusalem: “See, we are going to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and scribes, and they will condemn him to death; then they will hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified.” (Matthew 20.18–19) And what theme does the writer of the Gospel of Matthew place on Jesus’ lips as the story turns towards his death? The theme of God’s generosity. Last week’s parable of the unmerciful servant and today’s parable of the labourers in the vineyard, both highlight the generous nature of God and both demand of their listeners – that’s you and me – a response.

As the images in today’s parable are not far from our experience – we who live so close to the “Raisin Capital of the World” – so neither are the themes drawn out in the parables, both in this week’s and last’s. They speak to us not only by what they say in and of themselves, but also by where they are placed in the Gospel of Matthew – the only Gospel in which they appear, by the way. Of course, the theme of God’s generosity to which I have already alluded is clear. Yet, in last week’s parable it would seem that the generosity of God is dependent upon our own. The lord writes off the slave’s huge debt, but, on discovering that this same slave did not forgive a much smaller debt owed by a fellow-slave, retracts the write-off and places the slave in prison until he should pay the debt. The story is rounded off by Jesus’ words: “So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.” (Matthew 18.35) While this may seem to make God petty, with a rather quid pro quo attitude, that is not, I think, what the writer means to express. But rather, that this is the economy of the universe, as it were. Jesus expresses this in other parts of the Gospels: “Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap; for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.” (Luke 6.37-38) In short, “what goes around comes around”. The world we live in is a generous world, a gracious world, created by a generous and gracious God; and to partake most fully in that generosity and graciousness, we must be willing to make a response in the same generous and gracious spirit. When we make that response we open ourselves up to receiving the fullest measure of God’s generosity.

Today’s parable seems to be about making that response, and about how little God’s generosity relates to any quid pro quo, tit for tat arrangements. All who participated in the work of the vintage season, in the work of the kingdom, share equally in the gracious generosity of the landowner. I say “the work of the kingdom”, because that is what we can understand the work in the vineyard as representing: the work of the kingdom, our participation in the generous and gracious spirit of God. The work of the kingdom is our responding in generosity and graciousness to God’s own generosity and graciousness. At the same time the parable expresses that God’s generosity is a surprising generosity; that God’s graciousness is an unexpected graciousness. Like the generosity of the landowner it may even seem unfair because it is indiscriminate. And many of us may very well identify with those workers who, realising that the late-comers were receiving the same wages as they, “grumbled against the landowner, saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ ”(Matthew 20.12) But, fair or unfair, there it is nonetheless. It seems that we want generosity when applied to ourselves, but fairness when it comes to others. Yet, somehow the generosity of God is not measured out in accordance to our labours; part of our participating fully in it is accepting that reality, even celebrating it. If we are really to be generous and gracious people then we must be willing to affirm graciousness and generosity wherever, wherever it presents itself, wherever it is made manifest. For some reason that is not always an easy thing for us human beings, and Jesus in the gospels is aware of that. The landowner says to the disgruntled labourers: “Are you envious because I am generous?”(Matthew 20.15b) Or, more literally, “Is your eye evil because I am good?” It is not dissimilar to the response which the father makes to the disgruntled brother in the parable of the prodigal son: “Son,” he says “you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.” (Luke 15.31–32) The first step to responding to the great generosity of God, the graciousness of the universe, is simply to allow it to happen and to celebrate it whenever it does happen. The beginnings of the response is simply to not begrudge the good, the beautiful, the lovely, the tender and compassionate wherever it occurs.

Such an attitude renews our mind and converts our spirit so that we can participate even more fully in the gracious and generous work of God. It allows us to see the world through a lens of generosity, to interpret the world with a hermeneutics of graciousness, and when we do that our entire viewpoint shifts. When we do that we are changed into more generous and gracious people. When we do that we are moved to do more and more acts of gracious generosity, to do more and more the work of the kingdom. We are transformed more and more to be the images of Christ in world; Christ, who lived an exemplary life of generosity and graciousness, who believed to the core that the God in whom he trusted was a God of grace and generosity, who had created a gracious and generous world. For that reason he looked for the best in people. He lived the message of forgiveness with abandon. He welcomed all who came to him, regardless of what society might think of them or of him. Even in the face of his impending death, he was able to still proclaim the good news of generosity. Even on the cross he was willing, in graciousness, to give people the benefit of the doubt: “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23.34); and in generosity to affirm the goodness of God to his fellow human beings: “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” (Luke 23.43)

Yes, we are in the midst of the harvest season, and the abundance with which we are afforded physically and spiritually should draw our minds to the graciousness and generosity of God. The abudance with which are afforded invites us into the economy of the universe preached and lived by Jesus in which what goes around comes around and in which the grace and goodness of God are for everyone; and whether we think they deserve it or not is completely and utterly immaterial.