Sermon for Sunday 18 September

Exodus 16:2-3, 11-15; Matthew 20:1-16

It’s not fair!  The story – or parable – Jesus tells, to give us a picture of how the kingdom of heaven might be, is totally not fair!  Imagine yourself as one of those workers getting up before sunrise, heading for the market place, hoping against hope you might find work today – enough to provide food for your family.  It brings to mind the family I heard of in Myanmar, who, each morning have their meagre breakfast of rice, sell their plates and utensils to pay their transport costs to the city, where they desperately hope they will earn enough money at least to pay for the return trip home, another meagre meal and the plates from which they will eat.  For many of us, it is extremely difficult to imagine the privation and despair of such hand-to-mouth existence.  Getting to the market place early, hoping to be employed, trying to find some edge over those whose need is just as great – the silent cry: “pick me, choose me to work for you” – the defiant, humiliation when not chosen – the surge of hope, the knowledge of food on the table tonight, for those who are hired.  It’s a way of life many experience; and one most of us can hardly imagine – but we need to put ourselves there to get the full weight of the parable.  For those listening to its first telling, there would be no difficulty in understanding;  Jesus would need no reference to Myanmar to make his point; his listeners knew this grinding poverty only too well.  But then, comes the twist in the tale: the landowner returns to the market-place – hiring those who had lost hope of employment, those whose chance of a meal that night had faded – employing them for half a day, quarter of a day, or just an hour – and then, amazingly, paying these later comers a full day’s wages!   And you, as one of those who had secured work in that fickle job market, who had worked all day in the hot sun, sweating over the vines, how would you feel about those who hadn’t worked for anything like as long as you; how would you feel about them getting a full day’s pay?    Wouldn’t you, at least, expect a bonus ... something extra for all your hard work?  Wouldn’t you complain too?  Of course, if you were one of the ones who had been waiting all day, apparently hopelessly, with no work in sight, it would be a different story.  The full day of wages, placed in your hand, would, no doubt, be an unexpected delight.  But no matter whether you are one of the thrilled or the complaining, the paying of identical wages couldn’t be described as fair. 

And that, said Jesus, is what the kingdom of heaven is like ... the kingdom of heaven has a different set of cultural norms – it’s where generosity is abundant and where there are no bonuses; it's where those who find themselves at the end of the line, empty without any resources, all of a sudden discover hope; it’s where there’s no place for entitlement, no place for meritocracy; there is blessing and abundance for everyone.  And that’s not fair...

From deep within our tradition we know that Creation not fair - but good  – and somehow, Jesus’ parables call us to participate in and contribute to that goodness – even when it means that those who assume they are entitled to some particular blessing or privilege will be disappointed; and those, who have been told implicitly and explicitly that they are not entitled to blessing and privilege, have every right to expect that generosity.

Let’s take a detour for a moment, to ask: what is this Kingdom of heaven/Kingdom of God - a term used often enough in the gospels for us to recognise as a significant concept in Jesus’ teaching – but what exactly does it mean?   Like so much of Jesus’ teaching, it is ambiguous.   For one thing, the language is problematical.  God’s good kingdom is the antithesis of Kingdoms of this world with their layers and levels of interconnected dominion and privilege.  To get away from these overtones, some scholars have attempted to use other terms – such as God’s Reign, God’s Common-wealth, God’s Realm or, the one I prefer to use, God’s Kin-dom. 

The gospels contain many different pictures of the kin-dom – each providing a facet of a much more complex idea, which tease and entice us into flourishing abundant life.  As we take the broad, multi-faceted perspective, we find God’s kin-dom is a Loving Goodness already known and yet, also, still to be known; a state of being at the horizon of our longing.  It’s a Way of living demonstrated and taught by Jesus, which we, the Body of Christ, can also experience amongst and within us.  Kin-dom living is fullness of life in companionship within a living community.

So, having taken that diversion, we now must address the question : so what?  If this parable is about the unfair, goodness and generosity of the kin-dom – where blessing and privilege are not linked to merit or work –then what does this mean for us as a community of faith?

Is it an accident that this parable is about the allocation of money?   (We all know that ministers aren’t meant to talk about money – so it can’t be that, can it?)  Is it an accident that this parable follows immediately after his encounter with the rich young man, after which Jesus comments to his disciples “it will be hard for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven”?   Isn’t it interesting that while some would say ministers shouldn’t talk about money and many people would shroud their own personal finances in a veil of privacy, Jesus talks about money a great deal and very publicly?  Contrary to what many suggest, he also says almost nothing about what we should believe, or who is acceptable in leadership.  Could our silence surrounding money be a culturally imposed protection, ensuring we do not face the challenges Jesus made – and continues to make?  What would it be like if we were to tear down these imposed silences and consider living out the kindom described in this parable – reflecting the generosity of the landowner?

I’ve been interested to hear recently of several  young people in this country – young people in their thirties, usually from outside the church – dissatisfied with the way in which money and the market have been given almost human status; disillusioned that those on our rich list, are celebrated for having created so-called ‘deserved’ wealth.  Some of these young people are making very practical choices – discarding materialism, stripping their belongings to a bare minimum, choosing to live simply so that others may simply live; others are providing an academic critique – showing how average New Zealanders create wealth in many different ways, even as the ‘small, distant [wealthy] elite’ deny the role they play.[1]  Where is the Church in this challenge?  Where are we making our voices heard for God’s bias of generosity towards those not to be found on any rich list, but struggling to make ends meet?

I was talking this week with Janet, convenor of our Looking Outwards Goal Group.  She was sharing with me the concerns that Christian World Service face in the cuts the government has made to overseas aid.  In trying to address the problem, CWS suggests that parishes make a commitment to a particular project.  I found my heart sinking – not another project; aren’t we doing enough already – it seems an uphill challenge constantly trying to enthuse people to give to the many projects we are already committed to – Myanmar, Presbyterian Support, Orokonui, the Prison, APW projects, Christmas Appeal, Hospital Chaplaincy – it seems to go on and on.  And then, that doesn’t even begin to address our apparent inability to meet our church basic budget.  I returned to my study and was confronted by today's gospel reading…

I could only wonder what a community based on kin-dom generosity would look like.  And I wasn’t sure.  I had a feeling it might be a lively church, avoiding complacent comfort, well-known for its over-flowing generosity to those considered 'the least' in society, bravely challenging a debt-crippled world to live within its means, enthusiastically embracing many projects which transform peoples’ lives, over-subscribing to its own budget – flourishing in all ways – but I wasn’t sure ….I wonder what you think, you who sit in these pews perhaps very occasionally, or maybe faithfully each Sunday?  How does this parable speak to you, and how will we engage with it so that our life together and beyond will be transformed – so that we may live the kin-dom way?   How you respond, will make a difference ….

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[1] Campbell Jones, Senior Lecturer, Department of Sociology, University of Auckland “Real creators of wealth not a small, distant elite” The Dominion Post 26 August 2011, Opinion, p.4.