But he [the landowner] answered one of them [the workers], “I am not being unfair to you, friend. Didn’t you agree to work for a denarius? Take your pay and go. I want to give the one who was hired last the same as I gave you. Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?” Matthew 20:13-15
Jesus told a story that would have a modern-day trade unionist frothing at the mouth. (See the whole passage: Matthew 20:1-16.)
A landowner hiring men to work in his vineyard agrees to pay them a denarius, which was pretty much the going rate for a day’s labour. Fair enough. But as the day goes on he hires others at different intervals and agrees to pay them “whatever is right”. Again, fair enough.
But a problem arises when the time comes to give out the pay packets - everybody receives a denarius, including those who had done only an hour’s work.
Understandably, the men who have slogged their way through the whole day are not best pleased, to put it mildly. But the landowner insists that they have received what was agreed, so what right do they have to grumble? - “Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?”
Let’s be in no doubt: in terms of employment practice the landowner’s behaviour is outrageous. But of course Jesus didn’t tell this story in order to say anything about such practices (certainly not to commend them).
No. He told this story to teach a lesson about God. And the lesson in question can be summed up in a single word: grace.
The key point is not that the landowner is unjust to those he first hired (he isn’t); but that he is generous to those who came later. And grace is, in essence, God’s wonderful generosity towards those who least deserve it.
Can you imagine a lifelong Christian - a person who has borne the heat and burden of the day, who has acquired the scars of battle in the spiritual warfare, who has given sacrificially of time, money, energy and gifts in the service of Christ - can you imagine such a person feeling resentment towards someone who has lived a wicked, idle life but who then turns to Christ on their death-bed? Of course not! They would, rather, rejoice. They would understand the meaning of grace - and the fact that we all depend on it.
Isn’t that the point of Jesus’ story?
But (if I may digress) a question arises: If this really is what Jesus was getting at, why didn’t he simply preach a sermon on the subject of God’s grace? Why tell a story which is likely to raise the hackles of any fair-minded reader?
Answer: because a thought-provoking story is often the best way to breach the wall of somebody’s mind. A straight sermon might have that effect, it’s true. But equally likely the listener might just say “Yes, that’s interesting, I must think it over some time”, and then forget all about it.
There’s a serious lesson here for those of us who preach. I’m not saying, of course, that doctrinal preaching is unimportant; not at all! But given that Jesus was obviously a great story-teller - think the prodigal son, the good Samaritan, the sower, the lost sheep, think a host of others - why do so many of us (I include myself) treat these stories simply as quarries from which we can mine “teaching” or “doctrine”?
And it’s not just the stories Jesus told - it’s also the stories about him - think the stilling of the storm, the healing of people with leprosy, the raising of Lazarus, the way he welcomed the children and hobnobbed with sinners.
And it’s about Bible-stories in general. I sat once listening to a man preach from a quite difficult and little-known Old Testament story. He drew from it a number of probably quite good doctrinal points (I can’t remember now), but at no point did he actually re-tell the story or attempt to bring it alive - a story which, I suspect, only a handful in the congregation knew, if that.
Glancing around it was obvious that most people were just sitting with glazed eyes, completely switched off. They didn’t have a clue what he was going on about, and had given up trying. And I sat there, screaming (in my mind), “Tell us the story! Please! Tell us the story!”
Back to “grace”!... It’s a great Bible word. But in our modern world it suffers from having a slightly technical feel to it - either it means something “religious” that most people don’t understand, or, for some (mainly older) people, it’s just a prayer you offer before a meal.
So (and again I’m addressing my fellow-preachers here) next time we feel led to preach about the amazing grace of God, why not - before we draw out the various doctrinal points - look for a vivid, dramatic story that is calculated to make our hearers sit up and take notice?
If not Matthew 20:1-16, I think the prodigal son would do, don’t you? With grumpy big brother in the role of the early-start workers here...
Lord God, thank you that because we are all sinners we are all equal in your sight, all totally dependent on your amazing grace. Help me day by day to delight in your forgiveness and mercy, and to delight also in sharing this truth with others, whoever they might be. Amen.
Jesus told a story that would have a modern-day trade unionist frothing at the mouth. (See the whole passage: Matthew 20:1-16.)
A landowner hiring men to work in his vineyard agrees to pay them a denarius, which was pretty much the going rate for a day’s labour. Fair enough. But as the day goes on he hires others at different intervals and agrees to pay them “whatever is right”. Again, fair enough.
But a problem arises when the time comes to give out the pay packets - everybody receives a denarius, including those who had done only an hour’s work.
Understandably, the men who have slogged their way through the whole day are not best pleased, to put it mildly. But the landowner insists that they have received what was agreed, so what right do they have to grumble? - “Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?”
Let’s be in no doubt: in terms of employment practice the landowner’s behaviour is outrageous. But of course Jesus didn’t tell this story in order to say anything about such practices (certainly not to commend them).
No. He told this story to teach a lesson about God. And the lesson in question can be summed up in a single word: grace.
The key point is not that the landowner is unjust to those he first hired (he isn’t); but that he is generous to those who came later. And grace is, in essence, God’s wonderful generosity towards those who least deserve it.
Can you imagine a lifelong Christian - a person who has borne the heat and burden of the day, who has acquired the scars of battle in the spiritual warfare, who has given sacrificially of time, money, energy and gifts in the service of Christ - can you imagine such a person feeling resentment towards someone who has lived a wicked, idle life but who then turns to Christ on their death-bed? Of course not! They would, rather, rejoice. They would understand the meaning of grace - and the fact that we all depend on it.
Isn’t that the point of Jesus’ story?
But (if I may digress) a question arises: If this really is what Jesus was getting at, why didn’t he simply preach a sermon on the subject of God’s grace? Why tell a story which is likely to raise the hackles of any fair-minded reader?
Answer: because a thought-provoking story is often the best way to breach the wall of somebody’s mind. A straight sermon might have that effect, it’s true. But equally likely the listener might just say “Yes, that’s interesting, I must think it over some time”, and then forget all about it.
There’s a serious lesson here for those of us who preach. I’m not saying, of course, that doctrinal preaching is unimportant; not at all! But given that Jesus was obviously a great story-teller - think the prodigal son, the good Samaritan, the sower, the lost sheep, think a host of others - why do so many of us (I include myself) treat these stories simply as quarries from which we can mine “teaching” or “doctrine”?
And it’s not just the stories Jesus told - it’s also the stories about him - think the stilling of the storm, the healing of people with leprosy, the raising of Lazarus, the way he welcomed the children and hobnobbed with sinners.
And it’s about Bible-stories in general. I sat once listening to a man preach from a quite difficult and little-known Old Testament story. He drew from it a number of probably quite good doctrinal points (I can’t remember now), but at no point did he actually re-tell the story or attempt to bring it alive - a story which, I suspect, only a handful in the congregation knew, if that.
Glancing around it was obvious that most people were just sitting with glazed eyes, completely switched off. They didn’t have a clue what he was going on about, and had given up trying. And I sat there, screaming (in my mind), “Tell us the story! Please! Tell us the story!”
Back to “grace”!... It’s a great Bible word. But in our modern world it suffers from having a slightly technical feel to it - either it means something “religious” that most people don’t understand, or, for some (mainly older) people, it’s just a prayer you offer before a meal.
So (and again I’m addressing my fellow-preachers here) next time we feel led to preach about the amazing grace of God, why not - before we draw out the various doctrinal points - look for a vivid, dramatic story that is calculated to make our hearers sit up and take notice?
If not Matthew 20:1-16, I think the prodigal son would do, don’t you? With grumpy big brother in the role of the early-start workers here...
Lord God, thank you that because we are all sinners we are all equal in your sight, all totally dependent on your amazing grace. Help me day by day to delight in your forgiveness and mercy, and to delight also in sharing this truth with others, whoever they might be. Amen.
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