Practicing Radical Generosity

7–10 minutes

Alicia Johnson, Seminarian

Scripture: Matthew 20:1-16

In today’s gospel reading, we hear that the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner. The landowner hires workers in a few waves throughout the day – early morning, 9am, noon, 3pm, and 5pm. At 6pm, when it comes time to pay everyone for their work, the landowner starts with those hired at the very end of the day. He gives them a full day’s wage for their hour of work. Seeing this, the people who had been toiling since the early morning started to anticipate a great payday. I can imagine this – you see someone who worked a fraction of the day get a full day’s wage, you’re probably thinking you’ll get a big bonus. But they also received the typical daily wage. They complain to the landowner, who asks them, “Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?” Jesus concludes by saying that the last will be first, and the first will be last.

I wonder how this story lands with you. Does it bring up a sense of unfairness? Do you feel a little defensive on behalf of those who worked all day? Maybe you’ve had coworkers or classmates who haven’t pulled their fair share on a project, and you know that you receive the same compensation or the same grade. I’ve certainly been there.

There are other ways of hearing this story, though. For example, maybe it feels like grace. Maybe you’ve gone through a rough time – with physical or mental illness, caregiving, or struggles in a relationship – and your boss or teacher has shown you compassion.

My initial reading, and the way I’ve always read it in the past, was definitely on the unfairness side of things. I found myself thinking, “If you want to pay the last workers a full wage, fine, but at least give a bonus to the rest!” And sure, maybe that is more fair. But I found myself feeling a little bit defensive on behalf of those early morning workers, which, in my experience, is usually a good sign to dig a little deeper. I’m not finishing up a 12-hour shift and getting the same pay as someone who worked 1 hour. Why does this provoke a defensive response in me? Talking with some of my seminary classmates, I know many of them felt the same preparing their sermons. I wonder if some of you feel that way too.

I think one reason we may feel uncomfortable with this story is that it goes against the grain of what we are told matters in the United States. Dr. Lynn Weber, a scholar who studies social inequality in the United States, defines four key components of the American Dream. The first is equality of opportunity. In this story, all the workers were available from the morning. Those hired last pointed out that they had been standing there all day waiting for work, so in this story we start with equal opportunity. The second component is a reasonable anticipation of success. The earlier workers – while they agreed to the wage up-front – had the mindset that working more should result in more pay, more success. The third piece is that individuals are responsible for success. This is where the story really starts to bump up against our expectations. The people who worked hard all day feel like they did their part, yet they were not given more money, greater success, than those who worked less. And finally, in the American Dream, success is seen as a virtue and failure as a sin. When I hear this story and get a little defensive of the people who worked all day, I think this might be at the core of it. They worked hard all day, they should receive a higher wage, and they are more deserving of that money. To not give them more is like questioning their worth or their goodness – a reflection of who they are as people, beyond getting paid for work.

Of course, it’s not just Americans who read unfairness in this story. Within the story itself, we see that the first workers felt that it was unfair! Jesus tells this story to illuminate the differences between the world we live in and the kingdom of heaven. Shortly before this, in Matthew 19, he tells the disciples that it is hard for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven. It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle. But those who place following Christ above all else – homes, family, land – will have eternal life. Jesus then uses this parable to illustrate what he means, describing what the kingdom of heaven is like.

The Kingdom of Heaven is a phrase unique to Matthew. Mark and Luke refer to the Kingdom of God, which the author of Matthew uses occasionally, but Kingdom of Heaven appears over 30 times in the book of Matthew. Like in this parable, the Kingdom of Heaven consistently turns expectations upside down. In the Beatitudes, we’re told that the poor in spirit and those who are persecuted have the kingdom of heaven. The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, like treasure hidden in a field, like a merchant of fine pearls, like a net thrown into the sea, catching fish of every kind. Throughout Matthew, we get these perplexing parables, telling us that the kingdom of heaven is not like the world we are familiar with.

We also hear in Matthew that this kingdom of heaven is near, or in some translations “at hand.” In Matthew 10, Jesus tells his disciples to proclaim this good news, that the kingdom of heaven has come near, and then immediately tells them to cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those with skin diseases, and cast out demons. The disciples aren’t told just to proclaim that the kingdom of heaven has come near, full stop. They aren’t told to reassure the sick and suffering that the kingdom of heaven is coming soon, just wait a little longer. No, they are told to act, to do work that reflects the kingdom of heaven – restoring the unwell back to wholeness.

This brings up a really crucial point. Often, I find that we tend to think of “kingdom of heaven” as another way of saying “God.” God is like a landowner, for example. But it’s not exactly the same thing. Certainly the kingdom of heaven reflects God, what God values, and how God wants things to be ordered. But the kingdom of heaven is a kingdom, a way of structuring the world and relationships among people. Throughout the book of Matthew, Jesus consistently calls us to live out these values of the kingdom of heaven, caring for the least of these – the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, those in need, the sick, and those in prison. The kingdom of heaven is not something we sit around waiting for, but a model for how we should live.

Rather than thinking of ourselves as the workers who toiled all day and grumble about unfairness or the workers who came in at the last hour and received grace – what if we imagine ourselves as the landowner? If you hired someone for one hour of work, would you pay them the same as those who worked a full day? I don’t know about that! What does this tell us about how we should live?

I think it looks like caring for others’ needs, regardless of how much they have contributed. Those workers who stood outside waiting for work all day long certainly needed the day’s wage just as much as those who were hired first. The kingdom of heaven provides what people need without using a merit-based system. For those of us steeped in the American Dream, this can be difficult to do.

The kingdom of heaven is also a world of abundance. This one is tricky. On the one hand, even a landowner – someone wealthy in Jesus’ time – would have a finite amount of money. We could try to do the math, figure out how much money a landowner might have, what a daily wage was, how long this generosity could be sustainable. But I think that would be missing the point. In a world where people hold tightly to what they have, trying to protect themselves from scarcity, we try to trust that the kingdom of heaven has enough for everyone.

Here at St. Luke’s, I see how we try to put these things into practice. We aim to use a framework of relationship rather than transaction. I’ve seen how this community has stepped up to support one another time and time again when someone is in need. I’ve seen your abundant generosity as you’ve pitched in to help with the sanctuary resurrection and parish hall renewal. This is beautiful, countercultural work. And it is work – going against the grain of the American Dream and trusting in God’s abundance takes continuous practice.

In Matthew, Jesus calls us to live out these values. To look for places in our parish life, our personal lives, and in our connections with the broader community where we can turn expectations upside down and practice radical generosity. In doing so, we not only proclaim but truly show that the kingdom of heaven is at hand.

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