Creekside Church Sermon of August 29, 1999 "Begrudging Generosity" Matthew 20:1-16	Rev. David Bibbee
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I know a pastor who preached this parable one Sunday. Greeting worshippers after the service he heard the usual remarks, "Thank you for a wonderful message." "You offered some stimulating thoughts today." "It was just the message I needed to hear." But a college student didn't feel very good about it. She was new to the church and the Bible and she was angry. "How could you tell a story like that with a straight face? The treatment of the laborers in that sermon was unfair and unjust. If being a Christian means swallowing a story like this without choking, then count me out!"

"But this story isn't mine," he told her. "If you're upset, be upset with Jesus, not me. I'm only repeating what he said. Take it up with him." It struck him that out of all who listened to the sermon that morning, this student who couldn't tell the difference between the doxology and a doormat was the only one who heard the scandal of the parable. She got it. She alone heard the radical message of God's grace.

How about you? As Cheri read it, did a voice inside say, "Something isn't right here,"? If not, you didn't hear it. If the payment of the laborers by the landowner doesn't strike you as odd and unfair, it should.

The kingdom of heaven is like a landowner whose vineyard was ripe with grapes. He went out early and hired workers for an agreed upon fair wage. Seeing that more help was needed, he went out at nine a.m., noon, and again at three p.m. to hire more hands. And even though there was only an hour left in the work day, he hired still more laborers. When the six o'clock whistle blew, the payroll office was instructed to pay the workers beginning with those who showed up last. They were paid one denarius, which was equivalent to a day's income. When those who had been hard at work since six a.m. saw this, they naturally thought they would get more... a fair wage for an honest day's work. But to their disbelief, they also received one denarius. Those who put in one hour and didn't even break a sweat got the same as those who had sweated and strained for twelve hours under the scorching sun. Equal pay for unequal work.

When I was 19, I learned that when your boss gives you a raise, it's not a cause for celebration among your co-workers. I learned that they may even resent you for it. I worked my way through college in a paint and glass shop. I couldn't have asked for a better boss. After not quite a year with the company, I received a nice raise, but when another employee got wind of it, he didn't think it was so nice. He had been with the company 23 years, and he didn't get a raise. It wasn't right. I hadn't worked long enough to get a raise. To register his grievance, he wouldn't speak to me for 6 weeks. This wasn't easy to deal with since much of the day we had to work side by side.

Matthew says the workers who toiled all day grumbled when they received their wages. "This isn't right!" they cried. "You wouldn't get away with this if we belonged to the union!" Then the landowner asked, "What wage did we agree upon?" "A denarius." "What did you get?" "A denarius." "So what's the problem? I did as I promised. Do you begrudge my generosity?" Yes, they did. What they once thought was a fair wage, all of a sudden wasn't a fair wage anymore.

"Do you begrudge my generosity?" No... Not at all... not as long as we are the recipients of it. One day my fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Hazelet, announced that one of us had done better than all the others in improving our grades, our behavior, and in being an all around good student. As she spoke, my posture straightened as I and most of the class poised to hear our name. When Mrs. Hazelet said the student was Jerry McKenzie there was a collective groan throughout the class. "Jerry McKenzie!?" Jerry was a thug. He stole our lunch money. He would steal Twinkies from your sack lunch. If you wouldn't let him cheat off your paper during a test, he would threaten to knock the snot out of you.

Did we begrudge our teacher's generosity? Absolutely! But Mrs. Hazelet had beautiful eyes. She could see things in us we couldn't. No matter who her students were, no matter how likeable or unlikable they were, she poured herself into them to build them up.

Do we identify with the disgruntled workers in the parable? Of course! We talk a lot about God's grace...the unbidden, unmerited, unfathomable gift of God which is the bridge between his love and our resistance and rebellion. Grace, we declare, is what saves us...not what we do but what God does. Every Sunday we come to celebrate God's incredible generosity.

The Bible occupies a special place for us. We believe we'll be better people if we do what the Bible says. We look to the Bible for guidance from right from wrong. But the Bible also assaults our senses and knocks over the limits we place upon God's grace. We search for support in the scriptures for our convictions that actions carry consequences. Deeds do not go unnoticed. They are rewarded or punished. Good comes to those who work hard and play by the rules.

How wondrous is the grace of God...when it works to our advantage. But sometimes ungraciousness comes over us when someone else receives it...someone not like us; someone who has done things we would never do, someone who only works an hour while we have toiled in the vineyard all day. We say we rely on God's generosity, but often we focus on the good WE do. We take credit for the good things that have come our way, but if we take the credit, then who is there to thank?

"Do right by God and God will do right by you," we say. But where is grace in this arrangement? It's like handing God a bill. "This is what I've done for you. When do I get paid?" If this is the way we understand God...grace conferred for services rendered, we have missed it. We put a leash around God's generosity. No wonder we don't spend more time with this parable. It upsets our ideas about the basis of relationship with God. There is no limit to the ways we try to make ourselves acceptable to God and we prescribe to others all the things they must do to get right with God.

This parable casts considerable light on grumblers. I'm sure the elder brother of the prodigal son was at work that day. You know him. He obeyed the rules. He did the right things, he worked hard, not necessarily because he loved his father, but because of what obedience would get him. The righteous Pharisee worked that day as well. You know him. He went to church every Sunday. Dotted every "I" and crossed every "T" of the law. He was glad he wasn't like those lazy unemployed people. Peter was there, too. "Lord we have left everything to follow you, so what will we get?" The disciples worked that morning, "Lord, we want to sit at your right and left in the kingdom." The gang's all here...you and me included...the conscientious ones begrudging God's scandalous generosity, given equally to all, no matter who shows up. No matter when they show up. Rules, regulations, and pay scales do not matter to God. What matters most is knowing and believing and living in the love God has for us. As one theologian put it, "Faith begins in accepting the fact that you are accepted."

Thee Seekers class is currently studying the best book on God's grace that I think has ever been written. It's called What Is So Amazing About Grace? In it, Philip Yancey offers this marvelous definition of God's grace:

Grace means there's nothing we can do to make God love us more... no spiritual calisthenics or renunciation, no knowledge or crusading for righteous causes. And grace means there's nothing we can do to make God love us less...no amount of racism, pride, pornography, or adultery or even murder. God already loves us as much as God can possibly love.

How different life would be if we allowed God's gracious generosity to grasp us. We would be less concerned with fairness and maintaining good standing with God, and be far more effective in drawing others with the generosity of the grace of God in our lives.

At the beginning of his book, Yancey tells a story which suggests what life is like when grace is at the center. It is called Babette's Feast.

It takes place among an austere Lutheran sect. The members all wore black and lived on a diet of boiled cod and gruel. Their hymns spoke of joy, but no joy lived within the members because they had become slaves to dead traditions and rituals. After their stern leader died, the community began to fracture. There was fighting and accusations of sexual affairs. Very few members bothered to come to worship anymore. Then came Babette, a refugee who had lost her family in the French civil war and who was now fleeing for her own life. A letter of commendation accompanying her said she could cook. She was admitted to the community, although very reluctantly, and did chores for room and board. For twelve years Babette worked for the two sisters who struggled to keep the community intact. They showed her how to make cod and gruel. She thought it was atrocious, but never questioned her assignment.

Over the years she brought new life to the community.

Then one day Babette learned that she had won ten thousand francs. She then made a request. "In twelve years I've asked nothing of you, but now I have one request. I want to cook the community a real French meal." The sisters cautiously consented. Weeks later, ships unloaded provisions for Babette's kitchen. Crates of game birds, vegetables, fish, champagne, and even a huge tortoise. The sect thought it wasn't right to indulge exotic taste, but they didn't want to hurt Babette. They would come, but they made a promise to make no comment nor express enjoyment of the food.

On the day of the feast the people walked into the dining room which Babette had decorated with china, crystal, candles and evergreens. A decorated General was a guest, and only he remarked on the food and drink. The others ate the delicacies without expression, but as each course was served, the General raved over it. Then, little by little, the people began to warm up. They talked of the old days when the community was at its peak. Those who hadn't spoken to one another in years engaged in warm conversation. Others confessed their wrongs and reconciliation occurred. One woman burped, and another responded, "Halelujah!" The General said there was only one place he had had such fine food...in a Paris café renowned for its woman chef.

The story ends with two scenes. Outside, the community joined hands around the fountain singing the songs of faith. Their past sins were washed away and they experienced a wonderful communion with God and each other. Inside, Babette sat exhausted in a kitchen piled high with dirty dishes, pots, empty bottles, and bones and carapaces. "It was a nice dinner," one of the sisters said. Babette replied, "I was the cook at the café the General spoke of..." Then the sisters said, "We will remember tonight long after you have returned to Paris." But Babette replied, "I won't be going back to Paris. It will be too expensive." "But you have ten thousand francs." Then the shocking revelation. Babette had spent every last franc on the feast which she offered in love to the community.

The meal cost Babette everything. It cost the guests nothing. On the house. Her incredible generosity transformed the people and wakened them to their need of God's grace.

Everything was the cost God incurred in giving the world Jesus. It cost us nothing. On the house. Grace that is grater than all our sin. Grace that does for us what we can't do alone.

Nothing we do will make God love us more. Nothing we do will make Fod love us less. It's an amazing grace given to all.

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