The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love. Galatians 5:6

Wednesday, June 19, 2019

Sweet and Sour Grace: One Story, Two Perspectives and a Prayer


The time Jesus answered the question, “Then who can be saved?” with a parable (a relatable story with a kicker punch line that forces a response).  Some musings and ruminations on what's fair and what's real and how one-sided justice can be, from Matthew 20:1-16.

Original, untouched photo, heart-shaped cloud formation summer 2017. RAB

Perspective Sour

Letter to Better Business Bureau, Banks of Jordan Branch
August 10, 31

To Whom It May Concern

I would like to lodge a complaint concerning one Mr. Jacob of Jordan, Landowner and Cultivator of Grapes.

On or about August 3 of this same year, I was hired by said Landowner as a labourer to harvest grapes for the day.  At the beginning of the day, I agreed to the payment of one denarius, which seemed a reasonable rate of pay to both myself and others who were also signed on for this task, at about 6 a.m.

We worked hard, in the hot sun, for the full twelve hours of the expected work day.   As we laboured, several times throughout the day, Mr. Jacob apparently went back to the market to secure more help.  This made sense to us, as it was clear we were not going to get the job done ourselves, as strong and hardworking as we are. 

The last of the crew arrived at the 11th hour.  Clearly Mr. Jacob was desperate to get his crop in on this day, because the last three to arrive were not what one might call, ‘robust’.  They worked for one hour only, and I must say that they were only there to haul in the bits the rest of us who had been working hard all day didn’t get to.

At the end of the day we were asked to line up for payment, starting with those three who had arrived last, and ending with those of us who’d been working all day. 

It was with great interest (at first) that we noted that those last, 11th hour workers got paid a full denarius!   Amazing!  A full day’s pay for one hour of work!  Who does that?  Of course, you can see how we would have expected that our wage would be proportionately adjusted.  I mean, that would only be fair, right?

But imagine our dismay, even our righteous indignation, when in our hands was placed the very same amount.  One denarius.  That’s all!

It’s not so much about the money.  We got what we were promised.  It’s the indignity of it all.  We who bore the brunt of the work, laboured in the heat of the day, we who were chosen first for our obvious strength and skill, we were made equal to the riff raff who straggled in under the wire. 

When we complained, Mr. Jacob insisted that he had the right to be generous if he chose. 

I hope you will agree that this kind of ‘generosity’ is completely out of line, and detrimental to both our economy and our society.   We simply cannot have those who do so little, who really are so low, being made out to be equal to folks like me who work hard and have earned every thing we’ve got.

I thank you in advance for your quick investigation into this shocking and offensive matter.

Indignantly,

Rufus Grumbleous

Perspective Sweet

The market is a hot and dirty place.  Everyone’s hands are dirty.  Their feet are dirty, clothes too.  Some people are sick.  You can’t help bumping into each other, and everyone touches everything.

I always feel sorry for the vendors.  They’re just standing there, all listless behind their wares, some of them flicking flies off meat that’s all bare and browned.  And it smells. 

Most of the people here are here to sell, or buy.  A little bit of gossip.  A little bit of business.  Some are beggars, blind or crippled, not able to work. 

But some of us are here to be hired.  We are able bodied most of us, but not “regularly employed”.  We’re called “day labourers” the lowest social group except for slaves.  Truth is, most of us used to be slaves.  Now we’re called ‘freedmen’.  Means we’re free to starve, I think.  It’s a bitter irony.  Now that we’re on our own, we own nothing.  No business, no land, no way to make a living whatsoever. 

Except to stand at the market and wait to be hired.

We all get here early.  The sun is rising.  All of us are hoping to be chosen in the first round, right off the bat, so we can pull in an entire day’s wages.  And some are lucky like that.  And today there’s a Landowner needing help to harvest grapes.  And he’s come around a number of times and hired a few more each time.

And each time I think, maybe this is it.  Maybe today I can go home to my family with something.

But by now the day is almost done.  Some vendors are even starting to pack up.  I know.  You’d think us day labourers would have given up by now.  Gone home.  Clearly we’ve been picked over for the more robust looking in the crowd.  Clearly we’ve been rejected.  All day.

But we’re still here.  There’s only three of us left.

We’re not lazy.  We’re desperate for work.  We are very determined, at least I am, to make a way for myself and my family now, and climb out of this life-sucking poverty, now that I’m no longer a slave.  I have a family at home.  They’re hungry.  Otherwise, I would never have stayed in this hot and dirty, stinking market, enduring the long hours of crushing boredom and the deep sting of rejection all day long.

But here comes that Landowner again.  And he actually needs more workers even now, at this eleventh hour.  And he hires us!  All three of us!  Sa-weet!   Fist bumps all around, as we get in the cart and head to the vineyard.  It's only going to be an hour’s worth of pay, but it's way better than going home empty handed.

And for that hour we work.  Haul in those grapes.  Just for the hour, but it’s worth it to actually be doing something finally!  And now the sun is setting and we have to quit. 

We can see the Landowner talking with the foreman.  Telling the foreman what to pay each of us, no doubt.   We line up at the back of the line, because, after all, we got here last.

But the strangest thing.  The foreman calls us forward.

In fact, we are put in line starting with those of us who got here last, and ending with those who’ve put in the entire day’s work.  That’s the first odd thing.  But it’s nothing to what happens next.

The foreman puts an entire denarius in my hand! In everyone’s hand!  That’s what he pays everyone.  Even those guys who worked all day!

We can’t believe it!  Only worked an hour but got paid for the whole day?  Who does that? 

The all-day guys are mad.  And I can’t blame them.  When they were at the market, the Landowner agreed to pay them the regular day’s wage of one denarius, so they got what they had agreed to.  But when they see that we had been given the full day’s wage for only working one hour, they quite naturally expect they will get more. 

But they don’t.

I know, I know we don’t deserve the full day’s wage.  But what a crazy, wild gift to go home with some bread for my family!!

What a gift!  This is so sweet, in such a bitter world. 

That Landowner.  Who does that?

Sweet and Sour Prayer

God, help me remember my own story, and how badly I am in need of Your grace.
By Your mercy please help me recognize any bitter spirit in me. 
I renounce any and all self-righteousness and superiority I may harbour in my heart towards another human being, who is made in Your image, and equally the object of Your steadfast love.
Amen

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