Sunday, September 24, 2017 Dr. Jan Rivero, preaching
Will you pray with me? Expand our imagination this morning, O God. Let us enter into the fullness of your mystery, that we may embrace the abundance of your mercy and extravagant love. In Christ we pray. Amen.
A few years ago a friend brought a peach blueberry pie to book group. It was to die for. I asked her for the recipe. Now I’m not much of a baker and pies have never been my forte. But this one turned out to be so easy and so delicious that even the family member who doesn’t like peaches or blueberries pines for it when the fruit comes in. Insofar as I am able, I’ll make four or five during the summer. It’s a mainstay when we have overnight guests. Most of the time we will finish it up in a day or two when we have company. As delicious as it is, there is always enough.
Jesus told a parable about a landowner who had enough to share with all the hired hands. But the laborers who worked all day felt cheated at the end of the day. When they were paid the same as the ones who had come in at five o’clock they saw an injustice. The laborers had a vision problem. They saw the work was for them, that it was about them, that they were working for themselves, their families, their welfare, their livelihood. What they could not imagine was that the work they were doing was for the landowner. And because they could not see that, they failed to grasp the landowner’s vision. You see for the landowner it was all about gathering in as many as he could to work in the vineyard. There was a job that needed to be done. The grapes had to be picked before they rotted on the vines. The landowner needed as many hands as he could get to do that work in a timely fashion. And he had enough to pay whatever he needed to, to ensure all the grapes were harvested on time. The parable is not about human selfishness or even human fairness. The parable is about the extravagant mercy of God.
Now economists will tell you this is a bad business model. We who believe that everyone deserves a living wage will tell you that’s an unjust business model. Many would build our capitalist economics model on equal pay for equal work. And in the face of this parable we cry, “That’s not fair. That’s not right.” We grumble at the thought of this injustice, assuming the whole enterprise is, for and about us. Like the older brother in the story of the Prodigal Son, we want what is due to us. We want the world and God to treat us fairly. But in God’s “bad” business model, in God’s economy, there is a whole different set of assumptions at play.
You see, in our business model resources are finite, limited, whether they are financial or planetary, whether they are wages or peach blueberry pie. There is only so much to go around and the distribution must be fair. But in God’s economy the only thing that matters is getting people into the vineyard, getting them to the table of grace. The ministry of Jesus was about bringing people to the table, as many as he could get to come. The issue wasn’t whether or not the people deserved to be there or whether the table was big enough. The matter was not whether or not someone had earned the right to be there, or whether there was enough food to go around. In the mind of Christ the vineyard was by, from and for God. If Jesus didn’t think the kingdom would be big enough would he have said, “Make disciples of all?”
Like the laborers, we are such short sighted creatures. We spend too much time looking at what is in front of us and judging it inadequate or insufficient. We are more like Jonah than Jesus. Jonah was so put out because God decided to spare the wicked people of Nineveh from genocide. He sulked and stewed over it. He decided it was better to die than to live in service to a god such as this. But God said, “You are concerned about a bush for which you did not labor and which you did not grow? … Should I not be concerned about Nineveh, that great city in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right hand from their left?” God’s argument? “They may be dumb people, but they’re my people.”
It really is not fair, is it? We work so hard at being “good” Christians, living faithfully day in and day out. We deserve to be at that table. We alone ought to reap the benefit of the harvest, the peaches, the blueberries—all of it. “They” don’t live godly lives. “They” don’t reflect Christian values in their hate speech. “They” are not here legally. “They” don’t deserve a place at the table. And they certainly are not entitled to this pie.
How might the world look if we decided to live by the economy of God? What might happen if we changed our assumptions about the world so that it’s not about us but about God? How would we relate to the planet if we started with the assumption that God cares deeply and profoundly for all that God has created, is creating and will create? Would we become advocates and activists for the environment? How would our relationships change with our cantankerous neighbors if we believed that they were created in God’s image? Would we invite them to dinner or take them a pie? What would we change as a faith community if we ran the church believing that God’s generosity is beyond our wildest imagination? Would we see every encounter in the world as an opportunity to invite someone to church? Would we take steps to broaden our reach, to increase our diversity? If we lived by the economy of God how different would our lives be? And if our lives were changed, what about the transformation that God could work in the world through us? Well that is without limits!
You see, God’s economic model, whether we believe it or not, whether we like it or not, is a model of generosity, where all are welcome. God’s model is one of plenty, not limits. It is one of grace, not stinginess. It is about God, not us. And as long as God keeps making peaches and blueberries, the pie will be big enough for all.
May God give us ears to hear and hearts to boldly share God’s grace. Amen.