Workers in the Vineyard

I’m sure you’ve read the parable of the workers in the vineyard–the one where the landowner goes out every three hours to bring in more workers and pays them all the same wage at the end of the day. The one in which the workers who’d been there all day thought they’d get something more than what they’d agreed to but didn’t and complained about.

Have you ever paused to wonder which worker you are? And, for that matter, who they all represent?

This being Scripture, we can assume there are layers. But until a few weeks ago when it was the liturgical reading and hence the subject of the homily, I don’t think I’d really paused to wonder at how many layers are present. I’d always read it as something that says no matter when we come to Christ–whether it’s in childhood or on our deathbed–we all receive salvation, which is inherently equal. And that’s a perfect valid reading.

It’s also just the tip of the iceberg.

Something I’d never paid much attention to is the fact that those first workers are the ONLY workers who agree to terms before they set out. They have a formal agreement. They will do a typical day’s work (twelve hours at the time) for a typical day’s wage (one denarius). Everyone else was just told “I’ll pay you what’s fair.” They probably assumed it would be less than a denarius. But they didn’t haggle–they were just grateful for work, so they went. They trusted the landowner to provide what was right and just.

Perhaps I’m just slow, LOL, but this was the first time I realized that those first workers could also represent the Israelites–the ones who’d been given the law. They were the ones with a formal agreement with God. They were the ones told explictly, “Do this work, earn this reward.”

The rest of us? We were told, “Come on in, pitch in, and I’ll give you what’s fair at the end of the day.” And we run on into the vineyard, grateful.

If we look at the parable not as pertaining just to individuals but to the world throughout history, then each of those workers could represent whole lands and regions as the Gospel is brought to them. Some heard it soon. Some are still waiting.

This is certainly not the only reading…but it’s an interesting one, isn’t it? Because our New Covenant through Christ does not come with set terms like the Old Covenant did. But it comes with that inherent trust–we trust Him to give us what’s fair.

More, we trust Him to provide us what we need. A denarius was the daily wage because it was what a family needed to survive one day–to eat one day. That sheds a whole new light on the parable, doesn’t it? That next layer.

If the landowner hadn’t given those latecomers that wage, they wouldn’t have been able to afford to feed their families that day. But He saw something critical here–that they were willing to work, they just hadn’t yet been called to work. And He had compassion on them and provided what they needed to care for themselves and their households.

But those first workers, the ones who complained…they wanted more. And they wanted more because they saw that He had made the latecomers their equals, which was unfair.

How often do we hear that–and think that–in life? That’s not fair! 

But is it truly unfair for God to provide for ALL who need it and to give what’s needed? Those first workers didn’t need more than the daily wage. But need doesn’t negate want, does it? We always want more. The question is…would they have wanted those others to receive less? If the first workers had been the first to get their wages, they no doubt would have been fine with them…at first. But if they stuck around to see the others get the same? I imagine they’d still have complained. Which means they’d have been wishing not just that other people got less, but that they’d be wishing they got not-enough.

Think about that for a second. I know I had to sit with it.

Do I ever do that? Do I ever wish that I would receive more than what I need, even if it means someone else doesn’t…and that it means they would suffer? That they wouldn’t be able to feed their families? Is my idea of “fair” really just “what takes care of me and heck with them”? I hope not.

Then there’s the particular complaint…”we’ve been working here since sunup and bore the heat of the day!” They were complaining that the work was hard and they did it all day.

But friends, they were working in the vineyard. The vineyard. I can’t think it’s a coincidence that Jesus chose this particular kind of field, knowing as He did that He was going to make a new covenant with His blood and use a cup of wine to be that wine. We can safely assume that when He sends us out to work in a vineyard, it’s to do the work of bringing His salvation to the world.

Yes, that work can be physically exhausting–and emotionally too. Yes, it can be hard.

But it’s also an honor. It’s a privilege. It’s a sacred calling. So never, at the end of a day (or our life) should we complain about it. Because this Kingdom work.

That doesn’t mean we’ll always feel great or will skip our way through the hard work. But it does mean that we’re not just doing it for the reward–for the wage. We’re not just doing it for a coin in our hand or to feed our family. We’re doing it because the work itself is good. The work itself is worthy of our attention. The work itself is worth doing.

I don’t know about you, but thinking about it like that…well, that changes everything.