The sermon for February 16 was based on Matthew 20:1-16.

Grace and peace to you . . .  

In the parable Jesus tells, the bad guys are easy to spot. They are the men who complain that the owner has cheated them. They are bad because they agreed to one wage, but now want to change the rules at the end of the day, all under the guise of fairness. They are the ones that make noise. They grumble and mutter and complain. Instead of receiving the master’s goodness with thanksgiving, they gripe about what they did not receive. Because the steward did not give them everything they wanted, they murmured against the landowner.  

When you spot the bad guys in Jesus’ stories, watch out. For then you are quick to be first in line with the good guys, pointing out the fault of the bad guys, proving how you aren’t one of them and how you wouldn’t do things that way. “I’ll be happy with whatever Jesus wants to give me”—that’s what you say, even as you muscle to the front of the line making sure that you get noticed, demanding your rights and fairness from others. “Jesus will take care of me,” you boast; even while you complain about being short-changed, worrying that things won’t work out. You pray, “Give us this day our daily bread,” even while you wonder if you’ll have enough to pay the bills, or if you might become too sick to earn your wages, or if you might be gassed by terrorists.  

You are so sure you’re among the chosen few. Many are called, but few chosen—and I won’t be one of those left behind. Many are called, but few chosen—and I’ll do whatever it takes to be one of the chosen few. Many are called, but few chosen—and I must be one of the few because here I am, doing the right thing, doing whatever it takes.  

Do you see the smugness, the self-righteous attitude, the “holier than thou” feeling that you feel when you spot the bad guys in this parable? Do you hear yourself—what you think, what you feel, what you believe—when Jesus talks about many and few? Do you see how easy it is to take the grace of God, His freely given compassion and mercy, His no-strings-attached kindness, and turn it inside-out by pointing to yourself and how you deserve it or how you’ve finally made it? Now who’s the bad guy?  

This parable is not told to show you what it takes to be one of the few, the chosen. It’s not a motivational story so that you stop your griping, straighten up, and do the right thing. The point of the parable is to contrast the Lord’s grace with your way of doing things. This parable teaches you that the Lord’s kindness doesn’t measure up to your standard of fairness. This parable shows you that the Lord’s mercy is simply that—mercy. It doesn’t depend on what you present to Jesus, or how well you distinguish yourself from the others, or what sacrifices you’ve made to be and remain a Christian, or how well you’ve passed the tests and made it through the hard parts of life. Rather, God’s grace and mercy and kindness depend on only one thing—His compassion. He does what He wants with His own things. Not because He is fickle or deceptive, but because He is good. The Father sacrifices His Son. Not to show you how it’s done and what you must do to earn God’s grace, but to freely give you His grace, His no-strings-attached love, His unending comfort and compassion. That is God’s merciful way—simply to give and give and give, demanding nothing back and requiring nothing from you; just letting you receive and live from whatever He desires to give you.  

Immediately before this parable, Peter proves that he doesn’t understand this free grace of God. Jesus points to the impossibility of raising yourself from the dead, and the possibility of God raising you up. Jesus points to the impossibility of earning God’s favor, and the possibility of God simply favoring you because He wants to. And Jesus points to the impossibility of saving yourself, and the possibility of the Father’s salvation in the death of Christ breathed into you by the Spirit. Jesus points to God, while Peter points back to himself. “See, Lord. Look what I’ve done. Look what we’ve done. We have left all and followed you. We’ve given up a lot. We’ve made the ultimate sacrifice. So what shall we have? What are you going to do for us? What will you give us since we’ve done so much for you?”  

And so this parable is told. The heavenly Father is the landowner. The vineyard is His heavenly kingdom. You are the worker. And without any merit or worthiness on your part, God freely chooses you to be His own, to live under Him in His kingdom, and to serve Him in everlasting righteousness, innocence and blessedness. And the wage is not the death and starvation you deserve for not working or praying or caring or sacrificing enough. Rather, the wage is a free gift—the gift of receiving the Lord’s own things, what is good, what He desires to give. He gives you His forgiveness in place of your sin, His eternal life instead of your everlasting hell, His freedom in exchange for your captivity. He gives you His kindness in spite of your bitterness, His glory in the face of your cross and trial and heartache.  

Because of His undeserved love toward you, the Lord is pleased to grant you communion and fellowship with Himself. In this He does you no wrong, no injustice. While you were standing idle in the marketplace, the Lord chose you. Maybe you were an infant, certainly incapable of working in the vineyard. Yet the Lord chose you, claiming you as His own son in holy Baptism. Maybe you were in the midday of your life, doing nothing for God’s kingdom. Yet the Lord chose you, calling you into His vineyard by the preaching of the Gospel. Or maybe you were toward the evening of life, too old to labor for the Lord. Yet the Lord chose you, even in the eleventh hour, absolving you of all the sins you had accumulated in your life. Regardless of when the Lord chose you, He gives you the same mercy, the same grace, the same forgiveness that He earned for everyone when He died on the cross for the sins of the world.  

As you gather in the harvest of the Lord’s vineyard, you may become weary as the heat of the day bears down on you. But the Lord does not abandon you. Instead, He sustains you in His vineyard. He sends His steward to distribute the Lord’s gracious provisions to you. He feeds you with His Body and Blood. He declares to you His forgiveness. The Lord continues to give you daily bread, to see you through your temptations, and deliver you from every evil. He continues to come through for you in your time of need. He continues to be the God you wish and hope and long for Him to be. And you—you simply get to take it all in, and live in Him even as He lives in you. You simply get to be in Him even as He is for you, and you have His Word and flesh reshaping and reforming and renovating and revitalizing your words and flesh.  

The bad guys are easy to spot. Nevertheless, you have been called; you have been chosen. And so the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the communion of the Holy Spirit is what you are given, what you receive, what you live from, and what lives in and through you. Therefore, when the day is done and evenings falls, you will receive from the Lord what He has earned for you: eternal life, never-ending happiness, and everlasting blessedness in the kingdom of heaven. Amen.

 

[This sermon is a slight revision of a sermon by Rev. Fr. J. W. Fenton, Zion, Detroit, MI]

Last Updated: 7/15/2008