Jesus on Fair Pay -- Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

One of the reasons that Jesus was so disturbing to the people of his time was his tendency to hang out with the wrong crowd. He often ate with tax collectors and was seen talking to prostitutes. He associated with lepers and with crazy people. He seemed to have a special love for those in trouble. He even associated with foreigners and treated women as equals. To make matters worse, he spent very little time with those who were wealthy and highly placed. Recall that when Jesus was arrested and tried, the high priests had to seek witnesses to tell them what Jesus had been doing and saying. The king was anxious to meet Jesus because, while Jesus was quite familiar to the poor and outcasts, the king had never actually seen him.

The parable that Jesus relates in today’s Gospel is directed at those of us who think that we are better than or deserve more than someone else – which, according to surveys is just about all of us. Maybe we think we are more moral or harder working or better looking. It doesn’t matter what it is that makes us think we are above someone else. Jesus tells us that God sees us through different eyes. In God’s eyes we are all radically equal and we are all loved equally.

Sometimes that is hard to take. I know that when I read the parable Jesus tells today, I instantly identify with those who have been working since dawn. I’ve worked harder. I deserve more. But in this life I can’t know who has worked harder. Only God knows the efforts I and others have made. I don’t get to judge; only God get’s to judge. And when I compare myself not with others but with what God deserves from me, my own efforts look tiny compared to the total commitment that I owe. In fact, upon reflection, it doesn’t seem like a very good idea to get this whole judgment business under way. The truth is that I’m one of those who came toward the end of the day and instead of arguing, I’d better be grateful that a loving and forgiving vineyard owner is handing out the pay.

I’m reminded of a story told by evangelist Dave Roever. Roever was a soldier who served in the Vietnam War. He was burned very severely when a phosphorus grenade went off in his hand. Not only was his hand destroyed, but his face was terribly disfigured. His nose and one ear were burned off. His eyelids, lips, almost his whole face was either destroyed completely or badly burned. His wife was informed of his injuries, and he was evacuated to a hospital in the U.S. There were two beds in his hospital room. In the other bed was a soldier whose legs had been blown off. He was in pretty bad shape.

That evening, the soldier’s wife arrived. When she entered the room, she stood looking at her husband with no legs. Then she took off her wedding ring and threw it at him. She said, "You disgust me," and she turned and left. Through most of the night, Dave could hear the soldier in the next bed sobbing. The soldier died before morning.

The next morning Dave’s wife walked into the room. Dave could tell that she was pretty shocked by what she saw, and even though he couldn’t talk very well, with a lot effort he managed to say: "I know that I’m so ugly now, but do you think that somehow you can still love me?"

She walked over to the bed, found a spot on his face that was more or less intact, and planted a big, wet kiss. Then she said, "Honey, you were never that good-looking to begin with."

Like Dave’s wife, God never loved us because of our good looks, or our social status, our good intentions, or even our hard work. God loves us because God loves us. Knowing that we are loved in spite of our ugliness and failings is incredibly freeing. It frees us to love others in spite of their faults because we are loved in spite of our faults.

We can reach out to prisoners, we can reach out to the poor, we can reach out to immigrants, we can reach out to the sick because we know that we have done wrong, are impoverished, are strangers, need healing, and God loves us through it all.

Let us live like the forgiven and beloved people we truly are.