Deuteronomy 24:15 - "you shall give him his hire on the day he earns it, before the sun goes down (for he is poor, and sets his heart upon it); lest he cry against you to the Lord and it be sin in you."

Matthew 20:1 - "For the kingdom of heaven is like a householder who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard."

In every city there were many people who worked by the day. If we read the entire parable of the householder, from which our text is taken (Matthew 20:1-16), we will find mention of this common sight. These people gathered in the public market places to seek employment; some were porters, who carried heavy loads from place to place; some were mason’s assistants, who carried the stones from the quarry to the wall; a few carried their pickaxe and hoe with them, to be ready if anyone should wish to hire them to assist in the fields; many were willing to cut wood for the ovens.

These day laborers stood in groups waiting to be hired for the day; if there was no job available, they and their families went hungry. It is a little considered fact, but we can say that our text from Deuteronomy was possibly the first social legislation in all human history; and it established the principle of man’s necessity to care for his less fortunate brother. Of course, as with all noble considerations and lofty ideals, the Hebrews often fell short of this principle, but, nevertheless, it was a statute of which they might be justly proud.

By the time of Christ, the rabbis had given a great deal of consideration to the working man and they had scrupulously laid down the conditions under which the workers were to be fed, housed and clothed; they had set the hours of work and the forms of payment for those who were hired by the hour or the half-day, and they had always stressed the fact that any man who injured a wage-earner transgressed "five commandments of the Torah."

The workers did not only have rights; religious doctrine imposed duties upon them too. The Bible required, as St. Paul reminded them, that they should respect their masters, obey them and serve them faithfully. The rabbis had some excellent moral tales in which exemplary workmen were held up to be admired.

For example, one day the rabbi Joseph, who was a mason, was on his scaffolding when a man below him called up, asking for advice on a religious question. "Wait until this evening," replied Joseph. "I cannot come down: I am paid by the day and I may not give a minute that belongs to my master away." And the rabbi Hilkia, who was a surveyer, gave the same answer to some people who came and begged him to teach them a prayer that would make the rain fall.

Today we have the many employment agencies who handle temporary workers; these people are on virtual call for fill-in work in a given situation. They too are paid by the day or the hour, and have certain legal rights. Or, we might also include the permanent workers in many situations who are paid by the hour, rather than on a set wage. They too have rights which employers sometimes neglect, but they have also the obligation to serve to the best of their abilities, and this is an obligation that they sometimes neglect. There are rights and obligations on both sides!

This parable goes against the business mentality that dominates our lives. We have always been taught: You get out of something directly in proportion to that which you put in it. Yet, that is not what happened in Jesus' story. In our way of thinking, the laborers who came to the field late got something for nothing. This parable challenges us not to look upon the Kingdom of God, or the church, as a business community. Yet, that is difficult for us to do, because that is our point of reference. What do you think would happen if a person joined the church this morning and immediately after receiving the vows of profession of faith I suggested to the congregation that he or she be nominated as the next chairperson of the Administrative Board. What do you think the reaction would be? Well, I think I know what the reaction would be. The laity would protest as loudly as Simon Peter is protesting to Jesus.

You see, we live in a world of tenure and seniority and it goes against our grain when we hear Jesus say: The first shall be last and the last shall be first. God's grace is not based upon what is fair, but rather what helps.

A man dies and goes to heaven. Of course, St. Peter meets him at the Pearly Gates. St. Peter say's, "Here's how it works. You need 100 points to make it into heaven. You tell me all the good things you've done, and I give you a certain number of points for each item, depending on how good it was. When you reach 100 points, you get in." Okay, " the man says, "I was married to the same women for 50 years and never cheated on her, even in my heart." That's wonderful," says St. Peter, "that's worth three points." Three points?"

He says. "Well, I attended church all my life and supported its ministry with my tithe and service." Terrific!" say's St. Peter. "That's certainly worth a point." "One point? Well I started a soup kitchen in my city and worked in a shelter for homeless veterans." Fantastic, that's good for two more points," he says."Two points!"

The man cries. "At this rate the only way to get into heaven is by the grace of God!" St. Peter smiled. "There's your 100 points! Come on in!"

A reporter once asked Pope John XXIII, "How many people work here in the Vatican?" to which the dear, old Pope answered, "Oh, about half, I guess."

One Sunday several years ago when I preached on this text, a church member came to me after the service and said, "You know, preacher, there are parts of the Bible that are difficult to abide, and other parts that aren't. The story you preached on today is one that I find totally offensive! It's just not fair to pay everyone the same wage when some have worked hard and some have hardly worked. Jesus was just wrong about that. I think you should have preached on something less offensive." The following Sunday, I preached about the prodigal son.

(Hint: What was the older brother's argument? Allow a pause after this story for the congregation to let it sink in) 

An old "Family Circus" comic strip shows the two boys Jeff and Billy squabbling over the size of the slices of pie their mom has placed before them. "They aren't the same," Jeff pouts. Mom tries again, evening-up the slices. Still Jeff is upset. "They still aren't the same!" he whines. This time Mom uses a ruler and absolutely proves that both slices of pie are the exact same size. "But Mom," Jeff complains, "I want mine to be just like Billy's . . . only bigger!"

Mike Rowe has made a career out of doing disgusting stuff. As the host of the Discovery Channel series "Dirty Jobs," Rowe has mucked-out, dug under, flushed, slogged, and slid through some of the most filthy and foul places on the planet.

But whether he has been hanging from rafters or slipping through sewers, Rowe has consistently shown his viewers how even the most grungy, grimy, gross job still has its own dirty dignity. Rowe always offers respect to those who are "showing him the ropes," whether they are demonstrating how to scrape up penguin poop or harvest worms. The underlying message of "Dirty Jobs" is that no matter how nasty, a job is a job and doing it well gives a sense of well-being and worth to humanity.

I seriously doubt that the story of the early and late workers in the vineyard would make very many folks' Top Ten Parables list. It's the parable most everyone loves to hate. And for good reason! The parable runs against the grain of one of our most deeply cherished values, the value of hard work and just reward: The more you work and the more productive you are, the more you ought to get paid. Let's face it: this parable is just not fair! But, then again, as someone once said, "God is good, but life isn't fair!"

I remember well the first sermon I preached on this passage from Matthew's Gospel. An elder of the church I was serving at that time came up to me after the service and said, "Preacher, of all the texts you had to pick from, you had to choose my least favorite parable in all of the New Testament! Jesus should have known better than to tell something as unfair as this! The next time you decide to preach about that one, please let me know in advance so I can get an early tee time that Sunday!"

Director/actor Woody Allen is known for a lot of quotes. But maybe his most famous quote is this one. Anyone want to guess what it is?

"Ninety percent of life is just showing up."

But Woody Allen is famously wrong. Ninety percent of life is what we do AFTER we show up.

Why do we want to believe Allen's computations so badly? We eagerly embrace Woody's calculus because it takes us off the hook for all but ten percent of our lifetime of screw-ups, fall-flats, and melt-downs. It is easy to just "be there." It is much harder to be there for the long haul, the hard times, the big tests, the final curtain.

Just "showing up" at your wedding might get you married, but it doesn't build a living, loving, fighting, mortgage paying, in-law juggling, overdrawn, children challenged, lifetime relationship.

Just "showing up" at the birth of your child might make you a "parent," but it does not make you a changing diapers, up-all-night, learning dinosaur names, cheering at rain-soaked side-lines, doing Algebra homework, enforcing curfews, saving for college, Mom or Dad.

Just "showing up" at church every Sunday morning might make you a member-in-good-standing, but it does not automatically put feet on your faith. G. K. Chesterton used to say that "Just going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in your garage makes you a car." To be a Christian takes action; it takes a day-to-day commitment to follow Jesus wherever he leads…

Have you ever noticed how sometimes life just isn't fair? It's one of the hard realities we learn early on. No one has to wait for adolescence or old age to find it out. You can learn it in nursery school. Sometimes life just isn't fair.

Little brothers and sisters seem to get such special privileges. The things my little brother and sister got away with! There were times when I really felt like the prodigal son story was some kind of Jungian archetype for familial systems down through the centuries. Well, I didn't exactly put it that way when I was 15, but that's how I felt. It's the way older employees feel when young hot shots come into the workplace and the older ones get shoved out into unemployment lines. It's the way veteran athletes feel when rookies get drafted with multi-million dollar contracts while the veterans have been slugging it out at smaller salaries all these years. Some coaches even treat these rookies differently from the rest, giving them special privileges the way we sometimes do with our children or our employees or our students. Of course there was one coach who never did that. Once in commenting on Vince Lombardi's fairness, one of the Green Bay Packers noted that Lombardi treated every player the same. "He treats us all like dogs," said the player. Some coaches are fair, but many are not in their treatment of players, just as parents are not with children, employers with employees and teachers with students.

Sometimes that's just the way life is, which is in part the point of the parable of the laborers in the vineyard.

Sometimes life just isn't fair. So we try to deal with the unfairness, like the little truck driver, just a little guy, who had parked his semi at the highway cafe and had gone in for lunch. While he was sitting there perched on a stool, three burly motorcyclists came in and began picking on him, grabbed his food away and laughed in his face. The truck driver said nothing, got up, paid for his food and walked out. One of the cyclists laughed to the waitress, "Boy, he sure wasn't much of a man, was he?" The waitress replied, "No, I guess not. He's not much of a truck driver, either," she said pointing out the window. "He just ran over three motorcycles."

Frederick Buechner has often said that as much as anything, one of the things that finally made him turn his life over to God was something that the preacher George Buttrick said in a sermon one Sunday.  Buttrick said that every time Jesus is crowned as Lord and King within someone's heart, this wonderful moment takes place amid "confessions, and tears, and great laughter." Buechner says that it was the joy of that last item, the "great laughter" that caused something within him to awaken and led him to want to have this holy hilarity in his own heart. Such holy mirth and deep delight should be true of everyone who receives the gift of grace.

Washington Gladden, a pioneer for social justice, realized that changing outward systems will not bring about a better society unless men's attitude toward their work is also changed. So he wrote what he called "The Worker's Pledge" in which he said: "I will not be a sponge or parasite. I will give an honest equivalent for what I get. I want no man's money for which I have not rendered a full return. I want no wages that I have not earned. If I work for any man or any company or any institution, I will render a full, ample, generous service. If I work for the city or the state or the nation, I will give my best thought, my best effort, my most conscientious and efficient endeavor. If I can give a little more than I get every time, in that shall be my happiness. The great commonwealth of human society shall not be a loser through me."

This is the spirit that has built our country, and when that spirit declines, America is on the decline. There is no substitute for hard, honest, conscientious work under God.

The climax of the parable occurs in verse 15: "Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or do you begrudge my generosity?" The vineyard owner claims the right to pay his workers not on the basis of their merits but on the basis of his own compassion. Why should such generosity be condemned as injustice? Underlying the parable is the Old Testament conception of God as the creator who is GOOD, that is, generous to all (see, e.g., Ps.145:9). Jesus reveled in the incredible magnanimity of God (see 5:45). Of course Jesus believed in the God of justice, but in his vision of God the divine compassion greatly outshone the divine justice. Those who worship such a God must imitate his generosity, not begrudge it.

George Bernanos, in a book titled Diary of a Country Priest, describes the ministry of a humble and unsuccessful country pastor. Most of the time the pastor is inept. The bored villagers he serves ignore him, his church all but deserts him. There is one wealthy parishioner who is particularly harsh on the poor minister. In part this is because of her personal bitterness toward God. However, as this woman draws near death, the priest somehow manages to break through the barriers and helps this woman to surrender her life to God. With his help, she is able to believe in eternal life.

The pastor shares these words with the woman at the moment of death. "Be at peace," he tells her. And as the woman kneels to receive the peace of Christ, the pastor prays to God: "May she keep it forever; it will be I who gave it to her." He prayed, "Oh miracle thus to be able to give what we ourselves do not possess, sweet miracle of empty hands. Hope which was shriveling in my heart flowered again in hers; the spirit of prayer which I thought lost in me forever was given back to her by God and who can tell perhaps in my name!"

As children develop, their capacity to comprehend parity and disparity becomes more sophisticated. For example, if you give a 4-year-old two small pieces of cake, and a 10-year-old one big piece of cake that amounts to the exact same amount, the 4-year-old will surely protest. No matter how hard you try to explain to the young one that two smalls equal one big, until you swap the plates, or surreptitiously cut the older child's piece in half, she'll keep on protesting. Developmental psychologists will tell you that 4-year-olds simply have not developed the cognitive capacity to think abstractly.

Yet long after we have developed the mental acuity to distinguish between dessert portions, the parable of the vineyard laborers still strikes us as unfair. No matter that Christians proclaim justification by faith, most of us hold on to the belief that we get what we deserve. Why else would we strive so hard to prove ourselves?

Dr. William Power, a professor at Southern Methodist University, describes an experience he had in Sunday school when he was a boy. His teacher was trying to explain to him and his rowdy friends the meaning of grace, but wasn't getting very far. She tried definitions and abstractions, to no avail. Finally, she realized something the boys had known from the start. She was not connecting. She was not getting through to them. They didn't have the foggiest notion what she was talking about.

So she took a deep breath and tried again: "Look boys, grace is the break you get when you don't deserve it. That's the simple explanation. But you won't really understand it till you experience it." And that's true isn't it? You need to have some living under your belt to understand the messes we make of our lives form time to time; how it impacts our lives and others. Then you know, when grace is shown, then you understand the power of grace.

There's a play by Timothy Thompson based on this parable in which he depicts two brothers vying for work. John is strong and capable; Philip is just as willing but has lost a hand in an accident. When the landowner comes, John is taken in the first wave of workers, and as he labors in the field he looks up the lane for some sign of Philip. Other workers are brought to the field, but Philip is not among them. John is grateful to have the work, but feels empty knowing that Philip is just as needful as he. Finally, the last group of workers arrive, and Philip is among them. John is relieved to know that Philip will get to work at least one hour. But, as the drama unfolds, and those who came last get paid a full days' wages, John rejoices, knowing that Philip – his brother – will have the money necessary to feed his family. When it comes his turn to stand before the landowner and receive his pay, instead of complaining as the others, John throws out his hand and says with tears in his eyes, "Thank you, my lord, for what you've done for us today!"

God's justice arises out of a sense of community in which we see the "eleventh hour" workers as our brothers and sisters whose needs are every bit as important as our own.

This story is told of Yogi Berra. The New York Yankees were at their peak and were negotiating contracts for the next year. A group of reporters interviewed players as they emerged from the owner's office, and one of them asked Yogi Berra about the terms of his contract. In his characteristically, plain-spoken style, he said, "I'm gonna get to play baseball again next year for the Yankees, and would you believe it, they're gonna pay me besides!"

That's the spirit of gainful employment, doing what you love to do and do well and getting paid for it besides. If the workers who'd worked all day had this attitude about their work, they wouldn't have resented those who only got to work one hour. When you're in the right vocation and you've got the right spirit, then the longer you work, the better. God's justice arises out of a gracious invitation to use your innate gifts and abilities to the glory of God and to the benefit of others. In the long run, money or recognition or praise has little to do with it.

We are shocked by the message of the parable of the workers in the vineyard, for it goes against the grain of our natural expectation. It mocks our logical sense of justice. Perhaps we are more drawn to the message of the Norwegian writer Jens Peter Jacobsen in his novel Niels Lyhne, which tell about a man who rejected God. As he grew older, he secretly desired the peace of faith, but he refused to come to God weak-kneed toward life's ending. Fate had been harsh to him, with death visiting those whom he loved most. Tenaciously, he held on to disbelief and a philosophy of nihilism even though he wanted the peace of God. In the last hour of his life, he refused to see the pastor, though secretly he wanted absolution and faith's consolation. His physician, who loved him, was moved by his valor and whispered, "If I were God, I would far sooner save the man who does not repent at the last minute."

Deep inside, our sense of even-scaled justice admires the hardened skeptic. But Jesus' parable communicates the opposite message. It shatters all our preconceived assumptions about the justice of God. Here is a story with a coded message that brings us to the core of what Jesus of Nazareth is all about! The key to interpreting the parable is in remembering that the vineyard is always the symbol of God's kingdom, his new community, his new reality. In point of fact, the vineyard is the Church. Moreover, God owns the vineyard lock, stock, and barrel. We are privileged to labor in his vineyard (his Church) and receive the security that there will be adequate compensation for all. But the real pay is not the wage offered at the end of the day. The work itself is our gift, our immeasurable privilege! It carries its own reward. For the work in God's vineyard brings us near to our fatherly Lord and his care for us.

Some years ago The Christian Century included some reflections on this parable by a Congregational Church pastor named Anthony Robinson. Robinson writes of working hard in his garden throughout the spring and summer, only to discover that the most productive part of the garden was a surprise patch of pumpkins and zucchini he never knowingly planted, apparently the result of some seeds included in the compost haphazardly spread on the ground in early spring. It was a reminder that, in spite of all our hard work, so much of what comes our way in life has the quality of gift about it. We do not create it; it far exceeds our expectations.

If our primary concern in life is limited to matters of fairness, we will frequently be disappointed. If we overlook the mystery in life and need to have things neatly explained, gratitude and graciousness will be edged out of our lives. Writes Robinson:

"When our only measure is fairness, when our preoccupation is our just desserts, we lose touch with a sense of grace and graciousness. We forget about the wild zucchinis, the people who love us more than we deserve, and the God who extends generosity and forgiveness to us."

The kingdom of heaven is like a professor who had many papers to grade. She asked her teaching assistants to start helping her early in the morning, and agreed to take them all out to dinner when the grading was finished. About mid-morning she realized she would need more help, so when she saw other graduate students standing in the hallway doing nothing, she asked them to help her, and agreed to reward them appropriately. Again at noon she found other graduate students eating lunch, and got them to help her, and again at mid-afternoon. About 5 p.m. she found still others and asked, "Why are you standing around doing nothing? Come and help me grade my papers. "When they were finished grading, the professor took them all to a restaurant. When she paid for the dinners of those who had started work at 5 o'clock, those who started early in the morning expected to receive more. But when she only paid for their dinner too, they began to grumble, "These others who only worked one hour got just as much as we did, who slaved all day over those papers." But the professor answered, "I am not being unfair to you. You got what we agreed upon. I want to give the students who only graded one hour as much as I gave you. Don't I have that right? Or are you envious because I am generous?"

So the last will be first and the first will be last. (Matthew 20:1-16)

After serving as a missionary for forty years in Africa, Henry C. Morrison became sick and had to return to America. As the great ocean liner docked in New York Harbor there was a great crowd gathered to welcome home another passenger on that boat. Morrison watched as President Teddy Roosevelt received a grand welcome home party after his African Safari. Resentment seized Henry Morrsion and he turned to God in anger, "I have come back home after all this time and service to the church and there is no one, not even one person here to welcome me home."

Then a still small voice came to Morrison and said, "You're not home yet."

Aesop had a fable about two eagles, one envious of the other because the other could soar higher and more elegantly than he could. So the envious eagle would pluck his strongest feathers from his own body and shoot them as arrows, trying to wound or kill the other eagle. It was his own undoing, however. He could not hit the high flying eagle, and he was eventually grounded by his lack of feathers. Envy destroyed the eagle.

A Sunday school superintendent had two new boys in her Sunday school. In order to register them she had to ask their ages and birthdays. The bolder of the two said, "We're both seven. My birthday is April 8, 1976, and my brother’s is April 20, 1976." "But that's impossible!" answered the superintendent. "No, it's not," answered the quieter brother. "One of us is adopted." "Which one?" asked the superintendent before she could curb her tongue. The boys looked at each other and smiled, and the bolder one said to the superintendent, "We asked Dad awhile ago, but he just said he loved us both, and he couldn't remember any more which one was adopted."

In Romans 8:17, Paul writes: "Now if we are [God's] children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ . .." (NIV) Paul's comparison is to adoption. By our faith in Christ we become his adopted brothers and sisters—adopted sons and daughters of God. As fully adopted and accepted children, we share the same inheritance as the begotten Son, Jesus. No wonder all creation waits eagerly for the full revealing and adoption to happen!

Ellsworth Kalas tells about a sunswept October afternoon in 1932 when he came bounding home from school, eager to tear off school clothes and put on playground stuff. But to his great surprise, he discovered that his father was home. It was unthinkable that his father would be home at three-thirty in the afternoon. "Why are you home, Dad?" young Ellsworth asked. He remembers his father being generally slow to speak, but especially so at this moment. His mother quickly replied, "Daddy's lost his job."

Until then Ellsworth did not know anyone who was unemployed. "I didn't know that good people could be unemployed," he admits. "I thought only lazy people were without jobs, people who wouldn't apply themselves or who didn't deserve a job." Young Ellsworth's attitude changed considerably in the next eight or nine years when more and more persons from his neighborhood found themselves unemployed.

It is amazing how quick we are to judge other people's situations. The Bible teaches us that only God is qualified to judge. He sees the heart. He knows the inner person. And when God renders His verdict, "Forgiven!" it is total and absolute. Since none of us are deserving of such a verdict, all of us are deserving. God's grace is equally poured out on us all whether we've worked twelve hours in the heat of the day or whether we've worked only one hour in the cool of the evening.

A sparrow complained to Mother Nature, "You gave beautiful colors to the peacock and a lovely song to the nightingale, but I am plain and unnoticed. Why was I made to suffer?"

"You were not made to suffer," stated Mother Nature. "You suffer because you make the same foolish mistake as human beings. You compare yourself with others. Be yourself, for in that there is no comparison and no pain."

I remember reading about the former President Calvin Coolidge, who was a man of very few words. His nickname, as you know, was "Silent Cal." Before he became the President of the United States, one of the offices he ran for and was elected to, was as mayor of Northampton, Massachusetts. It was a relatively close race and he won by 190 votes.

The following day he was walking down the street, and a friend came up to him who was a Democrat (Coolidge was a Republican) and said, "Calvin, I read in the paper this morning where you were elected the mayor, but I just wanted you to know I didn't vote for you." Coolidge just looked at him and said, "Well somebody did."

Well God voted for me, and God has voted for you to be a part of His work, and to labor in His vineyard. But just as the people who voted for Calvin Coolidge didn't have to vote for him, neither did God have to choose you or me. That's why we must never forget that to be involved in the work of God is not a duty or a chore, it is a privilege.

The coffee break, where did that come from? It was a necktie manufacturer out of Denver called Wigwam Weavers. Wigwam Weavers made these very intricate silk neckties and during World War II they lost all their best loom operators to the war effort, all men of course. Then they hired women to do it and they could do it beautifully, and these were very intricate patterns, very complicated looms. The women could do it really well but only for about four or five hours. So they called a meeting. The owner said to the workers, "what can we do? We have to improve your efficiency. We need more output." And the women said, "well give us some time at like 10:00 in the morning and 4:00 in the afternoon and give us some coffee and tea". So, he started these work breaks and overnight their productivity and efficiency goes up, quality control went up, so he institutes the Coffee Break.

Think about it. Your employer gives you a drug and then gives you time off in which to ingest it. Why would they do that? Because it contributes mightily to productivity. The coffee break may seem like it’s something your boss is giving you but it’s a way to extract more value from you.

Johnny Carson told a story about the time when, as the host of the Tonight Show, he made a joke about there being a toilet paper shortage in the city.

The next day there really was a shortage because all the viewers who had watched his show ran out afterward and bought up extra toilet paper just in case. There was no trust in the fact that people, if they chose to work together, could ration out the toilet paper to make sure there would be enough for everyone. People panicked and grabbed not what they needed, but more than they needed, leaving others with nothing at all. When people allow their lives to be directed by this kind of fear and self-love, then they find out when they die and finally have the opportunity to enter into a heavenly community, that it is not really what they want at all.

They shrink back. You see, you need to have a great deal of trust in God and the goodness of others in order to buy into the concept of heaven, and these people don't. They can't anymore, because they have learned here on earth that you take what you can get when you can get it, because if you don't, no one else is going to look out for you. Heaven to these people is a very unsettling place.

Our land owner is like the kingdom of heaven because he seeks to include everyone, he gives freely to everyone so that they each have as much as they need, and he holds up a mirror to the deepest part of our being that asks the question, "are we okay with that?"

It seems that even monkeys, if they could read, would get indignant about this parable. In the Australian newspaper "The Melbourne Age," there was an intriguing report from the University of Atlanta called: "Monkeys want to see justice done."

At the University of Atlanta, researchers have been testing capuchin monkeys. They gave them the task of picking up a small granite stone and bringing it to the researcher within one minute. If they were successful, they were rewarded with the wage of a slice of cucumber. The scheme worked well. It was happy lab situation as long as each monkey received the same wage. This turned sour when the researchers varied the pattern. They tried giving one monkey a grape for its reward the others continued to receive the slice of cucumber. Indignation broke out. First the others withheld their labor, and later they even took to throwing away the cucumber and the granite stone.

It had offended their sense of justice. That's almost human isn't it? We are happy with our lot until we see someone in a similar situation who is better off. Then we cry foul! We want to go on strike and demand an end to such monkey business.

In his story "Abel Sanchez," writer Miguel de Unamuno nicely highlights the nature of envy and why it is that the envied person is often trapped by his envy. In his writing he  retells the story of the Cain and Abel, and he modernizes it. The Cain character is played by a skilled surgeon who has for years secretly envied his friend, Abel Sanchez, a skilled artist. At one point in the story, the doctor is scrutinizing one of Abel's paintings. This particular painting is a depiction of the Cain and Abel story itself from the Bible. At first, the doctor is convinced that the face of Cain in the painting is modeled on his own face. And he becomes furious! How dare Abel Sanchez use HIM as a model for envy? The gall! The nerve! The implied accusation! But then, upon closer inspection, the doctor decides it's not his face after all. Does this defuse his anger? By no means! Instead the surgeon becomes irate that Abel Sanchez did NOT deign to use him in one of his famous paintings! How dare Abel NOT use his face!

De Unamuno's point is clear: when you are the object of envy, you cannot do a blessed thing to make the situation any better. Try to be extra kind to the one who envies you, and this kindness will get written off as condescension and charity. Try to rise above things by ignoring the one torn up with envy and you will be written off as arrogant and rude, thereby merely confirming the envier's low opinion of you. Neither approach nor avoidance can help the envied one.

It's difficult to know how much of a role envy plays in Mark 6 but surely the sneering attitude of Jesus' fellow townsfolk revealed at least a smidgen of envy-driven sentiments. Maybe this had something to do with his inability/unwillingness to do miracles there. He was doomed no matter what he did. Do more miracles, and the people write him off as a showboat (and/or as someone drawing off power from dubious sources). If he refused to do miracles, maybe a few would say, "What now?! We're not good enough for you, not WORTHY of your wonder-working power!?"

Perhaps the only thing left to do was leave town and go to other villages, from which Jesus sent forth his disciples to do wonderful work in places where it could be appreciated.  

What parable would make a man with three doctoral degrees (one in medicine, one in theology, one in philosophy) leave civilization with all of its culture and amenities and depart for the jungles of darkest Africa? What parable could induce a man, who was recognized as one of the best concert organists in all of Europe, go to a place where there were no organs to play. What parable would so intensely motivate a man that he would give up a teaching position in Vienna, Austria to go and deal with people who were so deprived that they were still living in the superstitions of the dark ages for all practical purposes. The man who I am talking about, of course, is Dr. Albert Schweitzer. And the single parable that so radically altered his life, according to him, was our text for this morning. It was the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus.

The Rich Man and Lazarus were neighbors, you know. They saw each other every day. Oh, not socially you understand, but there was contact. Every day the Rich Man saw this beggar at his front gate. Who were these men?

We shall call the Rich Man Dives [pronounced ‘Dive-ees': it's Latin for "Rich Man" as he has been called for centuries] Dives would have felt very comfortable living in our present time. He was a progressive kind of a guy. He was self-indulgent and this is the age of self-indulgency. The contrasting life-styles of these two men is so obvious that you can't miss it. Dives was a connoisseur, a lover of the arts, one who knows and appreciates fine living, four star restaurants.

We are told in vs. 19 that he habitually dressed in purple. Purple was known as the color of royalty because it was the most expensive dye in the ancient world. Only the upper echelon and the high priest could afford it. We are also told that his undergarments were made of fine linen. Linen, the lifestyle of the rich and famous.

The other man in the story is Lazarus. How can we describe Lazarus? Lararus is homeless. We are told in vs. 20 that he was a cripple. Lazarus barely made it from day to day, living off the leftovers thrown to him by Dives as he daily passed him. He is just a survivor, that's all you can say of him.

One day, said Jesus, both men died. Death after all is the great equalizer. Death does not care about your social standing, your color, or your standing in the community. Lazarus, said Jesus, was carried away by the angel of death unto heaven, where he occupied the seat of honor next to Abraham. About Dives, the rich man, all that Jesus says is that he was buried. Isn't that strange that that is all that he says? After all, Dives funeral must having been something that the community would remember for years to come. Apparently, however, that fact failed to impress Jesus. Oh, Jesus did add one additional fact about Dives' death that may be of interest to you. His soul was sent to hell.

This is an unnerving story. I can well see why this was the irritating grain of sand in Albert Schweitzer's oyster. Why is this story so bothersome? For a few moments this morning I would like to share exactly why. It is bothersome because….

1. First, it shows how God reverses the standards of the world.
2. Second, it is a terrible fate for a man who was not mean.
3. Third, the rich man begs to warn his living brothers.

There is no pain in the world quite like it: the awful pain of feeling rejected. It hurts! It crushes the spirit and breaks the heart. Let me show you what I mean with a true story.

Pastor James Moore tells a story about a girl named Jessica. She was a tall, slender, sixteen-year-old blonde girl, who looked like she might grow up to be a model or president of the P.T.A., or a corporate executive. She was attractive, outgoing, personable, radiant, and happy. She was an only child and her parents were devoted to her and so proud of her. A member of his church she did a youth "speak-out" in an evening worship service. Her words were inspired and thoughtful from the pulpit that night. She was so wholesome, so clean-cut, so full of life.

But, the next morning, an urgent ringing of the telephone. It was Jessica's mother alarmed, concerned, frightened saying that Jessica had been taken to the emergency room during the night and had been admitted into the hospital as a patient. When Moore got there and walked into that hospital room, it was a stark, gloomy situation. The drapes were closed, the room was dark, heavy despair was in the air we breathed. There was Jessica only hours before happy, radiant, full of life but now, laying there in a hospital bed, weak, pale, listless, almost the picture of death. She was emotionally drained, completely wrung out, so much so that she literally did not have the strength to lift her arms, she could not walk, she could hardly hold up her head. They talked for a moment, prayed together and then he left the room. Jessica's mother came out into the hallway. Her mother said, "After we got home from church last night, Jessica had a phone call. Just as she hung up the receiver she fainted and when we revived her, she was physically unable to walk… she was so weak. We called an ambulance and brought her here to the hospital." Moore asked, "Do you know of anything that might have caused this?" The mother blinked as tears flooded into her eyes, she looked away and said, "Well, yes, that telephone call last night was to notify Jessica that she had been "black-balled" by the sorority she wanted to join."

Now, here was a young girl, sixteen years old, an only child, who for all of her life had had almost everything she wanted. At that particular moment what she wanted more than anything was to be accepted into that sorority and somebody had rejected her. One person for some unknown reason had "black-balled" her and the trauma of that blatant rejection was too much for her. She couldn't handle it. She was not faking. The doctors were sure of that. She was just so hurt that it crushed her emotionally, physically, and spiritually.

Here we see dramatically the awful pain of feeling rejected. Now I want to leave Jessica in the hospital for just a moment. We are going to get her out later, but right now the point is clear. The pain of feeling rejected can be devastating.

Sometimes we "feel" rejected when we really aren't being rejected. We only think we are. Have you heard about the man who had to quit going to football games because every time the team went into a huddle he thought they were talking about him! Now, he wasn't being rejected, but he thought he was. Let me hurry to say though, that even when imagined the pain is just as real!

That's what happens in Jesus' parable. Remember how the younger brother runs away to the far country, squanders his money in riotous living, but then ashamed and penitent he returns home. The father is so overjoyed. He had feared the worst that his young son might be dead! But here he is alive and well and home, safe and sound. The father is so happy that he calls for a great celebration. But when the elder brother hears of it. He is hurt, jealous, confused, and angry. He feels sorry for himself, but more than that and worse, he feels that the father has rejected him! Of course, we know better! We know that the father has not rejected him at all. In fact, the parable is misnamed. Instead of the Parable of the Prodigal Son, it should be called the Parable of the Gracious Father! Because, you see, the theme of the parable is not the revelry of the Prodigal, nor is it the bitterness of the elder brother, no; the theme here is the goodness of the father, the faithfulness of God. The message here is that God cares and that He wants both of His sons (all of His children) to come and be a part of the celebration.

But the elder brother missed it. He mistakenly felt rejected and it deflated and crushed him and left him spiritually bankrupt. The feeling of rejection can do that to us. But the Christian faith has good news for those who feel rejected, the good news of healing and wholeness. So when you feel rejected, here are a few simple guidelines to remember.

1. Feelings are temporary, so go and talk to somebody
2. The person rejecting you is the one with the problem
3. Remember how to laugh and don't take yourself too seriously
4. Remember that God accepts you.

The first point is concerned with the reversal of fortune in the after-life (vv. 19-26), the second (vv. 27-31) with the petition of the rich man that Abraham may send Lazarus to his five brethren. . . [Jesus places] the stress is on the second point. That means that Jesus does not want to comment on a social problem, nor does he intend to give teaching about the after-life, but he relates the parable to warn men who resemble the brothers of the rich man of the impending danger. Hence the poor Lazarus is only a secondary figure, introduced by way of contrast. The parable is about the five brothers, and it should not be styled the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus, but the parable of the Six Brothers.

The surviving brothers, who have their counterpart in the men of the Flood generation [Jeremias' reference to Noah's generation], living a careless life, heedless of the rumble of the approaching flood (Matt. 24:37-39), are men of this world, like their dead brother. Like him they live in selfish luxury, deaf to God's word, in the belief that death ends all (v. 28). Scornfully, Jesus was asked by these skeptical worldlings for a valid proof of a life after death, if they were to be paying heed to his warning. Jesus wanted to open their eyes, but to grant their demand would not be the right way to do so. Why did Jesus refuse it? Because its fulfillment would have been meaningless; even the greatest wonder, resurrection, would be in vain [in John 11:46 ff. the raising of Lazarus served to complete the hardening of the Jews]. He who will not submit to the word of God, will not be converted by a miracle. The demand for a sign is an evasion and a sign of impenitence. Hence the sentence is pronounced: "God will never give a sign to this generation" (Mark 8.12).

The pastor proclaims eternal truths to people who would rather hear the latest baseball score. He teaches, though he must solicit his own classes. He heals, though without pills or knife. He prays for people and hopes they pray for him. He leads worship and tries to make God real to those present. He sows God's Word and cultivates God's vineyard so that we may have deep roots in Christ and bear abundant fruits of the Spirit. He is a manager, administrator, correspondent, keeper of official records. He is sometimes a lawyer, often a social worker, frequently a one-man emergency squad. He is the favorite target of panhandlers and a decorative piece at public functions. He is a writer, speech maker, something of an editor, a bit of a scholar, philosopher, entertainer, salesman, and arbitrator. He is the theologian in residence and interpreter of the church at large. He seeks the lost, visits the sick, counsels the troubled. He comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comfortable. He tries to get people ready for baptism, confirmation, ministry, marriage, parenthood, old age, and finally death. He tries to keep people focused on eternity as they rush through time. He also tries to stay sweet when chided for either doing or not doing his duty, and often discovers that doing his duty can be just as offensive as not doing it. He plans programs and recruits and trains workers when he can get them. He is determined to multiply ministry and not monopolize it. He wants people to experience the joy of being givers of Christian service as well as being recipients. Then he spends considerable time in keeping people out of each other's hair. Between all this he prepares a sermon and preaches it on Sunday co those who don't happen to have any other engagement. Then on Monday he smiles when some jovial chap roars,

"What a job—one day a week!"

Could you believe what the news reported this week?  [Pause]

You ask, what news report are you talking about preacher: The one that said $87 billion dollars is an admission of the presidents failed policy in Iraq, or the one that said $87 billion shows the presidents serious resolve in finishing what he started in Iraq? Or the report that said the United Nations is now being asked to come in and clean up our mess, or the one that said the United Nations is being asked to participate because the world should be involved in this process; we are trying not to “Go it alone.”

How the news is reported depends not so much on the events as it does the preconceived ideas of the reporter. Rev. Thomas Tyndale came to understand this firsthand when he received a phone call from Attica State Prison in upper New York. A riot had taken place and rebelling prisoners were now in control of Cell Block D taking a number of guards hostage. Rev. Tyndale was requested to sit on a Board designed to start bargaining negotiations between the prisoners and the authorities, negotiations quickly broke down, the result is history. The prison was stormed by police and when the smoke cleared 41 dead bodies, both guards and prisoners, lay scattered across the courtyard in the worst prison disaster in the history of the United States.

In his book on this tragic incident Tyndale discusses reasons why negotiations broke down: “Everyone came with their own preconceived idea about the situation, all of which proved wrong,” wrote the minister. “No one fully understood the great gulf which existed between the guards and the prisoners.”

Wrong preconceived ideas. That pretty well sums up the situation as Jesus came on the scene as Messiah. Everyone had his own idea just who the Messiah was and how he would bring about this Kingdom. The problem is that no one really understood the real Jesus.

But hasn’t this always been a perennial problem. In the parable of the prodigal son the real tragedy of the story was not the open rebellion of the younger son or the jealous envy of the elder brother. The real tragedy was that neither one of them really understood the father. This was certainly one of the problems of the one talent man in the parable of the talents. He went to the master and said: “I knew you were a hard man reaping where you did not sow.” He just didn’t understand the master.

As it was then so it is now. So few understood Jesus; so few understand him today. Why is this? The answer? Wrong preconceived ideas.

Have you ever seen the Salvador Dali painting where clock is sliding off the table and another one is bent backwards on a tree branch? It is called "the persistence of memory." Now, you know that clocks do not bend and melt and do not assume the positions they do in this painting. But what might it be saying about time? What happens to time? Time flies, time melts away, time disintegrates, things fall apart … You may not like Dali's painting, but you cannot help but think about it.

The details in the parable of the mustard seed are skewed. It's a strange image Jesus is painting. We might not notice, not being Palestinian farmers, but those who heard Jesus tell this parable sure did. Mustard seeds are not the smallest seeds. They are tiny, but they are not the smallest by a great deal. And they do not grow to become the largest of all garden plants. In fact, it isn't a garden plant at all: it's a weed. A weed! And it was against Jewish law to plant weeds in a garden. It was a wild plant, totally undomesticated, beyond control. And there isn't a farmer in all of Palestine that wants birds perched in a bush or shrub or under them when new seeds were in the ground.

Those who heard Jesus tell this parable knew something was up! He knew what mustard was. He knew and they knew. What could his distortion of the mustard, as a seed and as a plant, mean? Was he urging disobedience to the law? Was he poking fun at the empire? Rome was a mighty oak tree. Greece was as powerful as the cedars of Lebanon. The kingdom of God is like a weed?

I had the privilege of studying the parables in seminary with Dr. William Farmer, who, at the time, was one of the foremost New Testament scholars in the world, and I'll never forget the first lesson Dr. Farmer taught us. He said, "A parable is a simple story, using concrete imagery, to make a single point."

Simple as that: "A parable is a simple story, using concrete imagery, to make a single point." Parables are not intended to be allegories (where one thing represents another). They're not to be interpreted metaphorically. They're not similes, or analogies, or paradigms, or riddles. A parable is a simple story, using concrete imagery, to make a single point - and, in the case of Jesus' parables, a single point about the nature of the Kingdom of God.

The problem with the Rich Fool is he never saw beyond himself.  There is no parable like this one which is so full of the words, I, me, my and mine. From verse 16 to 19, four verses, so much is revealed in the frequency of the personal pronouns. Listen to how many times they are used: I, I, my, I, I, I, my, my, I, my. A schoolboy was once asked what parts of speech my and mine are.  He answered, "Aggressive pronouns."  The rich fool was aggressively self-centered. It was said of a self-centered young lady, "Edith lived in a little world, bounded on the north, south, east and west by Edith."  The famous criticism was made of a self-centered person, "There is too much ego in his cosmos."  When this man had a superfluity of goods the one thing that never entered his head was to give any away.  His whole attitude was the very reverse of Christianity.  Instead of denying himself he aggressively affirmed himself: instead of finding his happiness in giving he tried to conserve it by keeping.

John Wesley's rule of life was to save all he could and give all he could. When he was at Oxford he had an income of 30 pounds a year.  He lived on 28 pounds and gave 2 pounds away.  When his income increased to 60 pounds, 90 pounds, 120 pounds a year, he still lived on 28 pounds and gave the balance away.  The Accountant-General for Household Plate demanded a return from him.  His reply was, "I have two silver tea spoons at London and two at Bristol.  This is all the plate which I have at present; and I shall not buy any more, while so many around me want bread."

The Romans had a proverb which said that money was like sea-water; the more a man drank the thirstier he became.  And so long as a man's attitude is that of the rich fool his desire will always be to get more-and that is the reverse of the Christian way.

Note: It would be effective to read the parable once and then re-read it again punctuating the personal pronouns. Don't tell your congregation directly what you are doing, just tell them you want to re-read the parable with a little different twist. Ask them, "Can you hear what's going on now?"

The Parable of the Talents makes no attempt to examine the causes of the slave's laziness, but one factor is evident from the dialogue: the slave has no love for his master. He is really interested only in himself, and consequently security, not service, is his goal. There is not the slightest trace of gratitude that his master trusted him with so great a sum. Respect for his master is limited to a grudging acknowledgement of power.

If we are correct in taking the phrase "to each according to his ability" as indicating that for Matthew the parable challenges Christians to make full use of the gifts that God has entrusted to them, the portrayal of the third servant reminds us that love for our master must be demonstrated in faithful and untiring service to other people.

It is routine for Christians to excuse themselves by protesting that their gifts are too modest to be significant. This parable insists that the gifts are precious and are to be exploited to the full.

Jesus often taught by telling parables. These were simple, down-to-earth stories which expressed spiritual truth. Today, on this third weekend of Advent, I want to use a favorite Christmas story as a modern parable. This is a true story, told to me some ten years ago by Dr. Edward Bauman of Washington, D.C.

About 30 years ago a boy named Tony was born into a family in a Midwestern state. He was blind at birth. He suffered from an extremely rare eye problem for which there was no known cure. When the little fellow was about seven years old, his doctor read in the New England Journal of Medicine of a new surgical procedure that showed some promise for correcting this particular problem. A young surgeon at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston had developed it. The local doctor and the surgeon began communicating. The boy's full medical record was sent. A decision was made to try surgery. Since Tony's family could not afford the expenses involved, local churches and civic clubs helped out.

Tony had a favorite teddy bear which he kept with him almost all the time. This teddy bear had begun to show signs of wear. One eye was missing; one ear was chewed off; and through several holes the stuffing was oozing out. Tony's mother told him that she was going to buy him a new teddy bear to take to Boston. Tony rejected that offer in no uncertain terms. What good is a new teddy bear when you have an old, familiar, friendly one already broken in? So, the old teddy bear went to Boston and remained close to Tony through all the medical procedures leading up to surgery: the x-rays, tests, and consultations. In fact, the boy and his teddy bear were not separated until the anesthesia was applied.

Throughout this whole period the boy and the young surgeon were becoming great friends. In fact, the surgeon was almost as excited as the family about the possibilities of this surgery. Somehow there was a good chemistry of friendship and trust between physician and Tony. When the surgery was completed, Tony was heavily bandaged and had to remain quite still for a number of days. That is very hard for a 7 year old. But each day the surgeon was in an out of the room encouraging him.

Finally came the day for removing the bandages. For the first time in seven years of life, a little boy could see. Though the vision was blurred at first, it gradually clarified. For the first time Tony looked into the faces of his parents, saw a tree, and a sunset. The young surgeon was almost literally jumping up and down for joy.

Before long it was time for Tony to be discharged and to go home. The surgeon had been dreading this day because the two of them had become such good friends. On that final morning, the surgeon signed the necessary discharge papers. He gave Tony a big hug and said, "'Listen, I own stock in you. I expect to get letters from you regularly. Do you understand?"

Then Tony did something totally unexpected. He said to his surgeon friend, "I want you to have this," and handed him his teddy bear. The surgeon’s first impulse was to say, "Oh no, I can’t separate you two good friends." But something stopped him. With a flash of sensitive genius, the surgeon understood what Tony was trying to do. He wanted to give his dear surgeon-friend the most precious gift at his disposal, so full was his heart with love. The wise surgeon accepted the teddy bear with a hug and a thank-you, assuring Tony that he would take mighty good care of his friend.

For over ten years that teddy bear sat in a glass case on the tenth floor of Massachusetts General Hospital---one eye missing, one ear chewed half off, and stuffing oozing out of holes. In front of the teddy bear was the surgeon's professional name card. Just beneath his name he had written this caption: "This is the highest fee I have ever received for professional services rendered." A little boy had given the most precious item he had, out of a love-filled heart.

This is a parable of Christmas. 2000 years ago our gracious God, with a heart filled with love, looked out upon a sin-marred, tear-stained world. Had you and I been in charge we might have destroyed the whole mess and started over. But God's great heart was too full of love to allow that. So he gave us the most precious gift at his disposal; he gave himself. "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life."

Confronted by such an awesome gift, our only fitting response is to fall on our knees and to enthrone the living Christ as our personal King of kings and Lord of lords.