Injustice at The Tournament of Roses
When I was a kid, my Mom absolutely loved watching the New
Year’s Day Tournament of Roses parade on television. We watched it every year.
I wasn’t as excited about it as Mom was. I got a bit more excited about it when
we finally got a color TV. After all, as a kid, it isn’t particularly
interesting to watch a bunch of floats go by on television decorated with
flowers of various shades of gray. I became much more excited about the Rose
Bowl parade when Rebekah and I moved to Pasadena, California where I pursued my
masters a Fuller Theological Seminary. We lived on campus, and our apartment
happened to be just two blocks away from the parade route.
It was either our first or second year in
Pasadena, either 1997 or 1998, when we walked down to watch the parade. Now
there is something you need to understand about the Rose Bowl parade. Something
like a million people line up along the 6-mile parade route to watch the
parade. And thousands, if not tens of thousands, camp out on the streets and
sidewalks on New Year’s Eve so as to get a good spot. We arrived about an hour
early, and the sidewalks were already crowded. We were on a sidewalk down one
of the crossing streets, and so we were about a 100 to 150 feet away from one
of the intersections of the parade. As the time neared for the first floats to
pass our intersection, more and more people joined us on the sidewalk and in
the gutters of the street. The police would come down the street every few
minutes, and tell the people to move back and clear the streets. Some moved,
but most didn’t. Instead of moving back, they would simply cram into the crowd
on the sidewalk.
Should the father have shoved the man? No. Were
there other ways he could have responded? Certainly. But it still seemed unfair.
The whole situation was really unjust. And, I don’t think that I am the only
one who thinks so. I expect that most of us feel the same way. Why? Because in
our world, justice is all about fairness; justice
is all about people getting what they deserve, be it reward or punishment.
And, it is this notion of justice that is at play in today’s parable of the
Workers in the Vineyard.
Injustice in the Vineyard • Justice as Fairness
In this parable, Jesus compares the kingdom of God to a
landowner who goes out early in the morning to hire day laborers to work in his
vineyard. He offers to pay them a denarius, which is the usual daily wage. The
men agree to a denarius, and they head off to work in the vineyard. A few hours
later at 9 a.m., the landowner goes back to the marketplace and finds others
who haven’t been hired by anybody else. He sends them to his vineyard, stating,
“I will pay you whatever is right,
whatever is just (δίκαιος, 20:4).” Oddly enough, the
landowner returns to the marketplace multiple times throughout the day to hire additional
workers. He returns at noon, at 3 p.m., and even at 5 p.m., just an hour before
the workday is done. And he makes the same agreement with all of them, “I will
pay you whatever is just.”
When the horn sounds at 6:00 o’clock, the owner
instructs his manager to assemble the workers and to pay them beginning with
those who were hired last. To everyone’s surprise, those hired last each
received a denarius, a full day’s wage. And so, those who had been hired first
imagine that they will receive more. After all, the vineyard owner has
demonstrated himself to be a very generous man! Yet, when they come to be paid,
they each receive the hitherto-promised denarius. They are put out, to say the
least. They feel cheated; they feel like they got the short end of the stick. And
so, they grumble, and they complain, “These last worked an hour, one single
hour as the sun was setting. Yet, you have made them equal to us, we who have
borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.” We know what these workers
are feeling because we know that we would feel the exact same way if we were in
their shoes. So we
are right with them as they demand to be treated fairly.
But then, the trap is sprung. The vineyard owner
responds to their complaints with a series of questions that leaves them and us
speechless:
“Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage?” Silence.
“I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me?” No response.
And then the final question, “Are you envious because I am generous?” Or, as the question is asked in older Bible translations, “Do you begrudge my generosity?” You bet they do. You bet… they… do!
As Episcopal priest and writer, Barbara Brown Taylor, observes,
Like most human beings [these workers] have an innate sense of what is fair and what is not. Equal pay for equal work is fair; equal pay for unequal work is not fair. Rewarding those who do the most work is fair; rewarding those who do the least is not fair. Treating everyone the same is fair; treating everyone the same when they are not the same is not fair.[2]
Getting an unobstructed view of the beautiful parade floats after you
spent the whole night out on the streets is right, fair, and just. Having a
late-comer push his way in front of you so as to block you and your children’s
view is not. Saving up for college, and then using that savings to pay for
college seems fair. Not saving up for college, and then getting college paid
for by the government due to financial need seems unfair. Getting hired because
of your training, knowledge, and experience seems fair. Not getting hired
because someone with lesser qualifications belongs to an underrepresented
gender or race doesn’t seem fair. The list could go on and on.
As I said, we believe that justice is about fairness, that justice
occurs when people get what they deserve, what they have worked for. This seems
so basic, so self-evidently right. Yet, it is this notion of justice that Jesus
seeks to dismantle with today’s parable.
Justice in the Vineyard • Justice as Generosity
In the parable, the landowner did not treat all the
workers the same. While he paid them all the same wage,… he was clearly more
generous with those he hired last than with those he hired first. No, the owner
did not treat them all the same. He treated them differently, and in so doing, he
made them all equal. Of course, those hired first cried foul (as would we)
because they are operating with a notion of justice defined primarily as
fairness.
Jesus, however, advocates a very different notion of justice. In
the kingdom of God, justice is not rooted in fairness; justice is grounded in
generosity—in love, mercy, and compassion. Why? Because under the kingly rule
of God, justice has a different goal and purpose than human notions of justice.
God’s justice is not about maintaining order or the status quo, God’s justice
is about the renewal and restoration of all creation. God’s justice is about
the reordering of human lives and human societies, not so that things will be
fair, but so that things will be transformed. In the kingdom of God,
generosity, compassion, and mercy, are not opposed to justice. Rather, they
make justice possible. Justice is, in fact, what results when the actions of
God and God’s people are motivated and energized by love, mercy, and
compassion.
Think about it. The workers in today’s parable are essentially
migrant workers. They are day laborers, and a denarius a day was just enough
money to get by on. It was not a living wage, only a subsistence wage. If all
the workers had been paid on the basis of how long they had worked in the
vineyard, then only those hired first would have been able to put enough food
on the table for their families to survive. If the owner had only been
concerned with fairness (or
with justice-as-fairness), then lots of people would have gone hungry
that night. Instead, lots of people went to bed satisfied, because the owner acted
with a generous justice. And so, this parable of the Workers in the Vineyard
subverts all of our notions of fairness-as-justice for in the kingdom of God,
justice is not about people getting what they deserve; it is about people getting what they need.
The Parable of Merciful Master
As an example of generosity-as-justice, consider the
parable of the Merciful Master, that we heard in last week’s gospel lesson.
Peter asks if he should forgive a person up to seven times, and Jesus responds,
“not seven times but seventy times seven.” Jesus then launches into a parable wherein
he compares the kingdom of God to a king who wished to settle accounts with his
slaves. As the story goes, the king calls before him a servant who owes him
10,000 talents, which is roughly equivalent to 4 billion dollars.[3]
The servant cannot pay back his debt so the king orders him to be sold, along
with his wife, his children, and all of their possessions. In desperation, the
servant begs for mercy. “Have patience with me,” he cries, “and I will pay you
everything.” The king relents. And instead of refinancing the debt or setting
up an extended repayment plan, the king simply cancels the debt in full.
Clearly the king acted with mercy, compassion, and
generosity. But here’s my question: In forgiving the debt, did the king acting justly?
Well, it all depends on what we mean by justice, doesn’t it? If justice is primarily
a matter of people getting what they deserve, then the king did not act justly.
A debt was owed, and it was forgiven. Some would argue, therefore, that the
king was generous, but not just. But I wonder. How can two divine qualities such
as justice and generosity be at such odds with one another? If we believe that
acts of mercy or compassion are somehow a violation of or an exception to
justice, that indicates that our notion of justice is flawed. It reveals the
inadequacy of the easy equation of fairness as justice
In the parable of the Merciful Master, the king
freed his servant from a crushing debt, and in so doing, he gave his servant a whole
new life, a whole new future. Was it fair? Was it treating everybody exactly
the same? No. But was it just? Absolutely, according to Jesus, justice is not
about giving people what they deserve, it is about giving people what they need
to live healthy, dignified,
sustainable lives. God’s justice is not based on quid pro quo, this for that.
God’s justice is based on grace. God’s justice is not retributive; it is
restorative. And restorative justice is established and maintained through acts
of generosity, through acts of love, mercy, and compassion.
Seeking Ye First God’s Justice
You have no doubt heard Jesus’ command, “Seek first the
kingdom of God and his righteousness.” Yet, a better translation that brings
the fuller meaning, would be, “Seek first the kingdom of God and his justice.” Yet, we live in a very broken world,
a world filled with sin, violence, and injustice. A world where more and more
people are not getting what they need to live, and therefore, a world where
cries for justice are heard more and more.
As Christians, Jesus’ calls and equips us to
strive for God’s kingdom, to strive for God’s justice. And so, as citizens of
that kingdom, our thoughts and actions need to be informed and shaped by Jesus’
notion of justice, justice that is the fruit of mercy, compassion, and
generosity. This means that when we listen to the news, when we debate in the
public square, when we go to the voting booths in November, as Christians, we
are not allowed to ask the question, “What is fair?” because fairness does not establish
or maintain God’s brand of justice. Instead, Jesus calls us to ask a different
question, “What is needed? What acts of love and generosity will create a state
of affairs in which everybody’s needs are acknowledged and honored? What
policies of mercy and compassion will create a system that addresses and
responds to those needs? Because once again, God’s justice is not about us
getting what we deserve, but is about getting everybody what they need.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Delivered on Sunday, September 21st, a.d. 2014
at St. John's Episcopal Church (Wichita, Kansas)
[1]
And that’s how we get sucked into the parable.
[2]
Barbara Brown Taylor, “Beginning at the End: Matthew 20:1–16,” in The Seeds of Heaven: Sermons on the Gospel
of Matthew (Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster John Knox: 2004), 103.
[3]
If one talent is equivalent to 15 years of wages (see note in nrsv), then based on an annual salary of
$25,000, the debt would be 3.75 billion dollars (25,000 × 15 × 10,000).
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