Stories Jesus Told:
When the Rules Seem Backward
Matthew 20:1-16
(This sermon works best if you have video capability and can show a brief clip from The Andy Griffith Show episode entitled “The Big House.” This clip is of Barney sharing the rules of the jail with new prisoners who have been brought into town by the state police. Otherwise, a description of the scene will suffice.) We love our rules. Rules help us keep things straight, as Barney says, “to avoid any grief later on.” Rules are good because they let everyone know how the game is supposed to be played, and they help us identify who is not playing the game correctly. Rules in life help us define the direction of our lives. They provide safety for our citizens, and consequences for those who don’t follow them. Rules help us in our drive toward success. We live by such rules as “No pain, no gain,” that rule which says you’ve got to push yourself, and make the sacrifice if you want to succeed. We hold up the Bible and say, “This is the rule-book for life.” We even make up little acronyms that communicate the fact:
Basic
Instruction
Before
Leaving
Earth
Rules help us identify the winners and losers, they help us to avoid mistakes that carry adverse consequences, and rules level the playing field to insure that everyone has an equal opportunity at becoming a winner. Rules are rooted in our sense of justice and fairness. Without rules, there would be anarchy, and it really would be survival of the fittest. We like our rules, and the reality is, we need our rules.
One of the rules we live our lives by is “hard work is the road to success.” Meaning that if we work hard enough, are dedicated enough, eventually we’ll be rewarded. After all, isn’t that what we’re all working for? The reward. Otherwise, what’s the use? And don’t think we preachers are different either. We are just as competitive as the next person. The rules of the game are “do well, preach good, and bring others to Christ, and you’ll be rewarded with a bigger church with a bigger salary.” I mean, seriously, I’ve known very few preachers—well, actually I can’t think of any—who were called to smaller churches or smaller salaries. I’ve known a few who were sent by the Bishop, but they go so unwillingly. But never have I known one who felt called to a smaller church or a smaller salary. I didn’t say there wasn’t one, just that I didn’t know one. So, we all play by the same rules hoping to receive the reward—that is the way of the world.
In today’s parable, we find a group of workers who playing by the rules. Every day, they went to the marketplace to find work. Most laborers were day laborers and it was their practice, especially during the harvest season, to stand around the marketplace seeking employment. One of the rules for day laborers was “no work, no eat.” If your family was going to eat that day, you had to find work. So this was not an uncommon sight at all for Jesus’ disciples. Perhaps some of them had served at one time or another as a day laborer.
During the harvest, early in the morning, the vineyard owner would make his way to the marketplace in search of labor. He would make one or perhaps two trips per day early in the harvest, but as the season drew on, and the likelihood increased that part of the harvest would be lost, the owner would make increasingly more return trips in search of laborers. The landowner’s situation appeared to be dire, for he made frequent return trips to the market, and each time he hired more laborers. The fruit was rotting in the field, and it was imperative that he get more workers to save as much fruit as possible.
The owner contracted with the workers at 6:00 a.m., for a day’s wage. There was another rule—a day’s work for a day’s wage. The worker’s were happy, the owner was happy. Then, he returned at nine o’clock, at noon, and at three o’clock, and for these workers the landowner simply said, “I’ll pay you whatever is right.” The workers went. They were happy, and the landowner was happy. They played by the rules.
Then, at five o’clock, the landowner returned to the market and found other workers. “Why haven’t you been working?” he asked. “Because no one hired us,” they replied. “Very well, then, go to my fields with the other workers,” said the landowner. No mention of pay, but we can only speculate that he was going to be fair with them just as he promised the others. The workers were more than willing to receive anything. All day they waited in the place that was designated and no one offered them a job. Their families would go hungry today, and it wasn’t their fault. They played by the rules, but it didn’t matter. Here’s a lesson for the church: not every hungry person is responsible for his/her own hunger. There are many people who play by the rules, but for reasons beyond their control end up broken and in need of help. The problem for the church comes when we try to judge who is hungry because they are lazy, and who is hungry through no fault of their own. That is not the lesson of this parable, but we can call it lagniappe since we are in Louisiana.
The end of the work day arrives, and something very interesting happens. The landowner, who has been playing by the rules all day, suddenly decides to turn the rules backwards. It is time to pay the workers, and the landowner instructs his steward to call the five o’clock workers first. The workers who came at 6:00 a.m., wonder why the landowner would do such a thing. After all, they have been here for twelve hours. They are hot and tired, ready to return to the market and get food for the family so they can go home. But then they see something interesting. The steward pays the five o’clock workers a day’s pay. Their eyes brighten as they think of the possibilities ahead. The wheels start turning as they begin to calculate what they landowner might pay them based on the hours they worked. This could be really good. Then, the three o’clock workers are paid. They get the same pay as the last workers. They begin to mumble something among themselves about the injustice of their pay. Likewise, those workers called at noon and at nine in the morning are paid, and they, too, receive only a day’s wage. The protests are ringing much more loudly now, and the workers who have been there for twelve hours can only think about how they have been done a major injustice, and they confront the landowner. “Hey, mister, we’ve played by the rules all day long, and here at the end of the day, you up and change the rules. That’s not fair.”
But the landowner simply says, “I haven’t been unfair. You agreed to work for a day’s wage. That’s what I paid you. Now go, for I wanted to be generous to these other workers, can’t I do that if I want to? Why must you be angry because I am kind?”
Then Jesus shares the Kingdom principle the story is designed to communicate-- "And so it is, that many who are first now will be last then; and those who are last now will be first then" (v. 16). And that, from the world’s perspective, is just backwards.
This is not a parable about work, nor the value of it. This is not a parable about position in the kingdom of heaven. This is not even a parable about rewards in the Kingdom. This is ultimately a parable concerning the attitude of one in the Kingdom.
Matthew has this parable sandwiched between two very interesting episodes in Jesus ministry. The first episode was of a rich young man who came to Jesus but refused to follow him because of his great wealth had prompted a conversation between Jesus and his disciples, and that conversation prompted a statement and a question by Peter. Peter says, “We’ve given up everything to follow you,” and then he asks, “What will we get out of it?”
The second episode is immediately after the parable, and is the scene of James and John’s mother asking for the favored place of honor for her sons when Jesus comes into his kingdom. And I can sense the exasperation of Jesus as he tries once more to communicate the attitude of the kingdom.
Jesus tells the story to address the self-centered concern of Peter that would ask “What’s in it for me?” And isn’t that the question we always ask? What am I going to get out of it? We want to know about the reward. We want to know what waits us at the end of the day. What’s in it for me? And like James and John’s mother, we want the best for ourselves. We want to have the best, to be the best, to do the best. We want the first place. Those are the rules of the world. Those are the rules by which we play the game of life.
I am struck how easy it is for us to bring this self-centered view even into the church. We, who consider ourselves evangelicals, are so concerned with seeing people come to Jesus Christ that we go to all lengths to see it happen. We peddle the grace of God as simple fire insurance—come to Jesus and get eternal life. Come to Jesus and receive joy and peace, come to Jesus and avoid the fires of hell and God’s judgment. We focus on the reward, and it becomes all about what we get out of it.
But the rules of the kingdom are backward because the rules of the kingdom are rooted in grace, and grace is getting what we don’t deserve. The workers in the story were ungrateful, all that is, except the last workers. Imagine the joy and gratitude in their hearts as they received their pay. A full day’s pay for an hour’s work. We don’t deserve that! But thank you so much for your generosity. That is grace at work—drawn from the kind and loving heart of the one who has authority over us. The other workers began to focus on what they didn’t receive that they thought they deserved. They lost sight of the generosity of the landowner. They lost sight of his grace. No, the later workers didn’t deserve their pay, but the earlier workers didn’t deserve their job.
We don’t deserve life, but God has given us life in Jesus Christ. We need to focus on the sacrifice of Jesus Christ that has made life available to us. The rewards won’t matter. Oh, they will be lagniappe (I’ve used that word twice in this sermon!), of course, but they won’t matter because we see the immense grace of God that drew us near and gave us the gift of life.
The motivation of our lives becomes gratitude in response to grace, and our service to others becomes genuine concern for their well-being. Too often, our service is motivated by self-preservation because we think we must serve others as a requisite to keeping our salvation. Gratitude makes all the difference.
One of the rules of the world is “no pain, no gain,” but the backward rule of the Kingdom becomes “my pain, other’s gain.” The sacrifice of Jesus was not for his own gain, but for those who would believe on him. Jesus gives us the example, and in this parable, he communicates the proper goal of the Kingdom is not authority, or self-promotion, or self-centeredness, but grateful service to others.
Don’t misunderstand me—our ambition, our drive to succeed, even our sense of justice can all be positive character traits when they are channeled toward selfless servant-hood—giving ourselves as a source of life for others. But we can never know true servant-hood until we are set free from the selfishness of sin. Jesus Christ went to the cross to release us from the power of sin, pride and selfishness, and the motivation to serve ourselves is broken by the power of the cross. When we come to the cross, we are able to focus on others. This is real discipleship. This is the transforming grace of Christ at work in our lives. When we get to this point, we begin to see the generosity and grace of God at work in the lives of others, and we see it as blessing in their lives because we see the great gift of life God has given to us. We realize the rules of the Kingdom are backward, and that is okay with us.
Dr. Dale Galloway tells the story of a shy, unassuming little guy named Chad. One February before Valentine’s Day, Chad came home and told his mother he wanted to make Valentine’s cards for everyone in his class. Her heart sank for Chad as he told her because she watched every day as the children from Chad’s class walked home from school, talking and running, and playing, but never including Chad in their fun. She chose to remain silent, though, and to help Chad with his desire to give his classmates Valentines. For nearly three weeks, Chad and his mother worked tirelessly to craft thirty-five different cards.
Valentine’s Day finally arrived, and Chad excitedly loaded his hand-made Valentine’s cards into his bag and bolted out the door. Mom thought it was going to be a tough day for Chad so she thought some nice warm cookies and a glass of milk would help to ease the pain of the day when he returned from school. Surely he would be disappointed, for she knew the children were unlikely to remember Chad in their Valentine’s. She was hurt to think how bad this day was going to be.
That afternoon she had the cookies and milk ready when school was out. She heard children outside so she looked out the window, and sure enough, here they came laughing and playing as always. Chad was following behind all alone, as always. He was walking a little faster than usual, though. She waited for Chad to burst into tears as he made it to the door. His arms were empty, and she could hardly choke back the tears as he burst through the door.
“Mommy has some warm cookies and milk for you,” she said.
But Chad hardly heard a word she said. He just walked right by her, his face aglow, and all he could say was:
“Not a one…not a single one!”
Mom’s heart sank.
Then Chad added, “I didn’t forget a one, not a single one!”
Little Chad demonstrated the backward rules of the kingdom. And when we get the rules right, as Barney said in the opening, “we’ll avoid any grief later.”
