Reflection on Matthew 20:1-16

Something stood out to me in today’s Gospel (Matthew 20:1-16) that I don’t think I had ever really noticed before.

We all know the parable. A landowner goes out early in the morning and hires men to work in his vineyard. Then he goes back out at nine, noon, three, and finally around five o’clock and hires more workers.

I think I have always made an assumption about those last guys.

I assumed they were lazy.

In my head, I pictured the first group getting up early, showing up ready to work, and putting in a full day. Then I pictured those last guys wandering in sometime late in the afternoon. Well, of course nobody hired them. They showed up late.

So when everybody gets paid the same amount at the end of the day, I could understand why the men who worked all day were aggravated.

I probably would have been too.

But that isn’t what the Gospel says.

When the landowner finds that last group, he asks:

“Why do you stand here idle all day?”

And they answer:

“Because no one has hired us.”

They had been there all day.

That is what I couldn’t get past this morning.

For some reason, I don’t think I had ever really noticed it before. These guys didn’t necessarily show up late. They may have been standing there just as long as everybody else.

They just hadn’t been picked.

That led me into a little contemplative prayer this morning. Scripture doesn’t tell us much about these men or why some were chosen before others, so I am not saying this is what actually happened. But I started trying to picture that marketplace.

Maybe there were twenty guys standing there when the landowner showed up that morning. Maybe the first workers weren’t necessarily better, stronger, or harder working. Maybe they were. We don’t know.

Or maybe they were just standing closest to the landowner when he walked up.

Maybe one guy gets picked and another guy doesn’t.

And I started wondering what that would do to me if I were the one who got picked.

I could see myself walking off toward the vineyard thinking, even if I never said it out loud, Well, he picked me instead of them. There must be a reason.

Maybe I looked stronger. Maybe I looked more dependable. Maybe I looked like a harder worker.

And somewhere along the way, being picked could start to feel like proof that I deserved to be picked.

That thought made me start looking at my own life.

Maybe part of the reason this stood out to me is that a couple nights ago I had the luxury of attending a gala for St. Vincent de Paul.

Even writing that sentence puts things in perspective.

I had the luxury of going to a gala to support an organization whose mission is to serve people who don’t have many of the things I probably take for granted every day.

Then I read this Gospel about men standing around all day because nobody hired them.

It made me think about the haves and the have nots a little differently.

I have been incredibly blessed. I have a family who loves me. I have a home. I have food. I have an education and a career. I have friends. I have people I can call when I need help. I have had people believe in me, teach me, open doors for me, and give me opportunities.

And yes, I have worked hard.

I don’t want to pretend that doesn’t matter. The first workers really did work all day. Jesus even has them say that they bore “the day’s burden and the heat.”

Their work was real.

But they were also picked.

And so was I.

How much of what I have today started with something I didn’t control?

The family I was born into. The abilities God gave me. The people who taught me. Somebody taking a chance on me. An opportunity showing up at the right time.

I worked with what I was given, but I was still given an awful lot to work with.

That made me think about how easily I can look at somebody who has less and assume I know why.

Maybe they didn’t work hard enough.

Maybe they made bad choices.

Maybe they should have done something differently.

And sometimes that may even be true. Choices matter. Hard work matters. Sin matters.

But today’s Gospel made me realize something pretty simple:

I don’t know how long they have been standing there.

Maybe they have been there all day too.

Maybe nobody picked them.

And I don’t think that only means somebody who is poor financially. Somebody can be poor in opportunity. Poor in education. Poor in family support. Poor in friendship. Poor in health. Poor in hope. Poor in faith.

Maybe they just haven’t had many people in their life look at them and say, Come with me. I have something for you.

Then the landowner goes back out.

He finds them.

He brings them into the vineyard.

And at the end of the day he gives them the same wage as the men who had been working since morning.

That is when the first workers start grumbling.

The landowner asks them:

“Are you envious because I am generous?”

There is that word.

Generous.

Nothing had been taken away from the first workers. They got exactly what they had agreed to receive.

They were upset because somebody else received more than they thought he deserved.

And that made me turn the whole thing back on myself again.

It is pretty easy for me to call what I have a blessing when I am the one receiving it.

What happens when God starts blessing somebody else?

Especially somebody I have already judged.

And I don’t think this is only about material blessings.

Maybe I look at somebody caught up in sin and think, Man, how did you get yourself into that mess? You should know better.

Then God goes out and finds him.

He receives mercy. He comes into the vineyard. His life starts changing. Maybe he starts praying. Maybe he starts serving. Maybe he starts loving people differently.

Maybe the guy I was judging becomes holier than me.

What happens in my heart then?

Am I happy that God went out and found him?

Or am I suddenly comparing again?

That is where today’s first reading (Isaiah 55:6-9) really connected for me:

“Let him turn to the LORD for mercy; to our God, who is generous in forgiving.”

There is that word again.

Generous.

The landowner is generous.

God is generous in forgiving.

Maybe that is the part I need to remember. God’s generosity toward somebody else doesn’t cost me anything. There isn’t some limited supply of grace and mercy that we all have to fight over.

God being generous with somebody else doesn’t mean He has less for me.

Then St. Paul gives me a pretty simple instruction in the second reading (Philippians 1:20c-24, 27a):

“Only, conduct yourselves in a way worthy of the gospel of Christ.”

Maybe that is the answer to all of my comparing.

Quit keeping score.

My job isn’t to figure out why the other guy was still standing there at five o’clock. My job isn’t to decide whether he deserves what God gives him.

My job is to conduct myself in a way worthy of the Gospel.

That means I should fight the pride. Fight the judgment. Be grateful for what I have been given. Work hard with it. Be a good steward of it. And when God is generous with somebody else, rejoice with them.

That is the standard.

And when I recognize that I haven’t lived up to it, Isaiah tells me what to do.

Turn back to the Lord for mercy.

Not because my pride or judgment doesn’t matter.

Because God is generous in forgiving, and His mercy gives me the grace to get back up and keep trying.

So maybe there is a challenge in today’s readings for each of us.

Who have I looked down on because I figured they had less because they didn’t work as hard, when maybe they just never got the same chance I did?

That is a tough question for me because I probably don’t consciously think that way. Pride is usually a little quieter than that.

Maybe instead of looking first at what somebody else doesn’t have, I need to spend a little time looking at everything I have been given.

Because when I do, I see a whole bunch of people who picked me along the way.

People who loved me. Taught me. Encouraged me. Opened doors for me.
Forgave my mistakes. Took chances on me.

And behind all of them is God.

Yes, I worked hard.

But I was also picked.

And that leads me to the second question:

What blessings in my life have I slowly started treating as proof of what I earned instead of gifts I was blessed to receive?

I don’t think the answer is to feel guilty about being blessed.

I think the answer is gratitude.

Use what God gave me. Work hard. Be a good steward of it. Give some of it away. And hopefully let being blessed make me more charitable toward the guy who is still standing there waiting instead of more judgmental of him.

Because I don’t know how long he has been standing there.

I just know that, by the grace of God, someone came for me.

Lord, thank You for coming for me and for all the blessings You have given me. Give me the humility to see them as gifts, the charity to never look down on those who have less, and the grace to rejoice in Your generosity to others. When I fall short, Lord, have mercy on me and help me begin again. Amen.