The Kingdom of Heaven: Who Could Ask for Anything More?
Matthew 20.1-16
Milford Baptist Church, 5 May 2002

It is about a quarter to seven in the morning. The sun is just waking up. The sparrows are just clearing their throats. And the owner of what looks like your average prosperous Henderson vineyard has already got up and gone off to the job centre in town to hire workers for the day. They all agree on a denarius, the standard wage for a day's unskilled labour. So they go off to work.

Then about a quarter to nine, the owner is back at the WINZ office down by the mall. Finding others there looking for work, he says: "Go work in my vineyard. I'll pay you whatever is fair at the end of the day." So they go to work. But then about a quarter to twelve the owner is back at the job centre hiring still more workers. You wonder why he didn't hire all he needed the first time. Perhaps a storm was brewing out west, and the crop had to come in as soon as possible. Whatever the reason, there is a sense of urgency because at about a quarter to three he's back again - and then once more at quarter to five - when there's only one hour of work left in the day. He sees others standing around, doing nothing: "Why haven't you been working today?" "No one hired us - no wanted us." "Go out and join the others in my vineyard."

Well, it's six o'clock, and time to be paid. The owner whispers in the ear of his accountant: "When you pay them their wages, start first with the ones who were hired last." So he does.

The ones who have only worked for one hour receive a full denarius - a full day's wage. They are ecstatic - but not half as much as those who came at seven. "You mean he's going to pay us one denarius for each hour's work? Why, that's almost a half month's wages for us." They can't believe it, but they do ... until the accountant begins paying those who came at three. There's some mistake here. They're getting the same amount? Surely the owner will whisper in the accountant's ear again, correcting the mistake. But he doesn't, and by this time the accountant is paying the twelve o'clock guys - and still giving each just one denarius - one day's wage. Smiles have faded from seven o'clock faces. "You mean he's going to pay everybody the same amount, regardless of how much they worked? It's unbelievable. It's unfair."

Sure enough, those who came at seven receive just one denarius. The text says they "grumbled" - surely a polite way to put it. (Probably couldn't print what they really said.) But to one of them - their spokesperson - the owner responds, "Now wait just a minute. Why should you expect any more? Don't I recall a conversation we had about a quarter to seven this morning? Didn't you agree to work for a denarius?" "Well, yes, of course, but it's all different now. You paid those others guys - the last ones - the same as us. Of course we expect more." "What's the matter? Are you getting angry just because I'm kind? You're right, they didn't deserve what I gave them. But if I just paid them for one hour, they wouldn't have enough to buy takeaways for their families. If I want to give them what they need - if I choose to pay them the same as you - that's my business, isn't it? It's my money. You take your pay cheque and get out of here."

Well, I've got to admit that I think they've got a point, those seven o'clockers. Don't you? I mean, imagine coming to work at seven - how would you feel just now? Your back aches. Your fingers are raw. Your face is sunburnt. You've worked hard all day, and yet the five o'clockers - who hardly had a chance to work up a sweat - get the same as you. There's got to be relative justice among all the workers, because the truth is that if you're an employer you don't have the right to "do as you please" with your money.

Imagine you're on the Board of Governors at the local school and about to hire a couple of new teachers. Both have the same excellent academic records, the same experience. One male, the other female. Now there's more competition for female positions, so you plan to pay the woman a little less, because you can. You'll have her lawyer breathing down your neck, and rightly so.

You're going to hire a couple of guys to do some work in your garden - one a white Kiwi, the other an Asian immigrant. Same experience. And you're going to pay the Asian a little less because you can get away with it? It's wrong. This story is the same issue, just in a different form. Don't you think this would be a good case for the Employment Tribunal? Wouldn't their union be up in arms?

It's odd. Why on earth would Jesus take the side of an unjust employer? There must be something odd going on in this story that I just don't get, otherwise I don't understand. And there is.

The clue is in what comes beforehand. You can't get the gist of the story unless you go back one chapter in Matthew. You may remember the scene. Jesus is having a conversation with a rich young ruler who asks, "what must I do to get eternal life?" (19.16) He seems to have his life all sorted out except for one thing. Jesus says, "Go, cash up all your assets, and give it all to the poor - and then come back." Well, the disciples are listening to this conversation and they can't believe their ears. Jesus sees their shock and says, "I tell you, it is easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to get into the kingdom of heaven." It is easier for a big fat camel - humps and all - to get through the tiny eye of a needle, than for a rich person to get into the kingdom.

"Well, that's impossible," they say, and they're right. But Jesus says, "Well, with people it is impossible, but with God everything is possible." You can't save yourself. But God can save you. But they miss the point altogether. Peter complains, "We've left everything to follow you - what do we get?" Can you hear it? "What do I have to do to get eternal life?" "We've left everything to follow you - what do we get?" And the answer? Cheated. Ripped off.

That's what you get. The kingdom is not a business deal or a contract. It's a covenant, a relationship. If you start asking, "What's the bottom line for me?" the answer is simple: cheated. And immediately following this exchange Jesus tells the story of the workers in the vineyard, so we will all will know just how cheated we're going to be - if we treat the kingdom as a business deal.

This "bottom-line" mentality has troubled the church ever since.

In Matthew's church, members of longstanding were probably complaining. They'd been there right from the beginning. They had built the church, slaved away in it. Now all these new believers - these Gentiles - were coming in and making changes. They didn't know their place. It wasn't fair. Today, have you ever been in churches and heard people talk about newcomers - young Christians, young people. "Why should we prioritise them, focus on their needs, their styles? They've just come. They're five o'clockers. Barely worked for an hour. Probably take off in a minute or two. But we've been around since early this morning. It just isn't fair."

Sometimes this attitude takes a more tragic form. Say you're at a meeting and you get divided into smaller groups. There you are, sitting around a circle of chairs. The leader says, "Let's start by going around the circle and introducing ourselves. Just tell us who you are and what you've done." You go around the circle until you come to a middle aged man who says, "My name is ... and I'm unemployed but I used to be an electrician." "Used to be?" What does he mean "used to be"? Can you hear it? Life is a contract, and someone screwed his up. He's not wanted. Not worthy. At least that's how he feels. You keep going around the circle. And you come to a woman who looks up and nervously says, "Well, my name's ... I'm single. I've got no family." No one even wanted to sign her contract. Didn't want her. Didn't think she was worthy. At least that's how she feels.

Now I want you to do something. Imagine that today you are the parent of three children - three, six and nine years of age. Now, you love the nine-year-old three times as much as the three-year-old, because, of course, the nine-year-old has been three times as much help around the house, right? "Of course not," you say, "that's ridiculous. We're family." Exactly, this is family. So's the story. When Jesus was walking about the kingdom of heaven, he wasn't talking about a business contract; he was talking about a family covenant. Receiving a new family. Receiving a new father.

And do you know where that vineyard owner, that father, is this very minute? Back down at the job centre, at the WINZ office, looking to see if there's anyone else who feels unwanted, anyone else who has not yet heard his invitation. Even the least worthy - "the last" in terms of worthiness - he is inviting. No one is excluded.

So you see it doesn't really matter whether the invitation comes at seven, or nine, or noon, or three, or five, or two minutes to six. Whether you're first or last, to be invited into the vineyard is to be invited home. And who could ask for anything more?