[The land owner said] “Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?” Matthew 20:14-15

The story we have heard in this morning’s Gospel is a disturbing one…actually, many of Jesus’ parables are disturbing, disruptive; they were for those who heard him in person, and they are for us today, as long as we can really listen to them with fresh ears, peeling back the varnish of familiarity and layers of interpretation. The parables are designed to give us pause, to bring us up short. So what is it this time?

In telling this story of the land owner and the workers in the vineyard, our fundamental assumptions about what is fair gets turned upside down – in fact, fairness doesn’t even enter into it!

The land owner goes to the central market where the day laborers gather and makes an agreement with the people he hires, and off they go to work. Four more times throughout the day the land owner does the same thing – at 9 am, at noon, at 3 pm and at 5 pm. And at the end of the work day, at 6 pm, when the wages are paid, each worker gets the same amount of money…and boy, does the first group of workers complain! “You meant to tell me that even though those guys worked only one hour they are getting the same as us, who slaved away in the hot sun all day?”

You can understand why they are upset, it doesn’t seem fair or right; and yet the land owner chides them: “Why are you upset? I paid you what I told you I would; I’ve been honest with you. I can choose to make a different arrangement with other people. Or is the real reason for your anger your resentment of my generosity?” As Americans, fairness is ingrained in us; our Declaration of Independence states that “all men are created equal,” and that is a wonderful premise upon which to build a nation and our political institutions.

However, Jesus tells this parable – which we might best title “The Parable of the Landowner’s Generosity” – in order to describe to us what the kingdom of God is like, what God’s nature and character are, and how we who are part of God’s Kingdom are called to act.

"For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard…and [at the end of the day] said, “Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?”

Generosity is not about fairness, or who has earned what, or who deserves what, or whether everyone is tor gets the same. Generosity is about an unexpected gift that has no strings attached, that can’t and shouldn’t be paid back, or reciprocated, or that should create a feeling of indebtedness, or even be “paid forward.”

Generosity is about the nature and character of the giver; it is, Jesus tells us, part of who God is, and that divine character overflows in God’s action and relationship with us, God’s creatures – that’s what grace is all about. And because we are made in God’s image, we are to share God’s character; because we have been baptized into Christ, the grace of God lives and grows in us as we grow in faith.

Generosity isn’t measured in what is given, but in how it is given; it’s not about writing an enormous check and then getting a gold-plated “thank you.” Instead, generosity is about approaching life with an open heart and an open hand, knowing full well that it can make us vulnerable to being hurt, being taken advantage of. Generosity is about entering the world with the eyes of God, and actively imagining with God the goodness that can be created and called forth in the lives of other people, and then doing what you can to make that happen.

This is what the Kingdom of heaven is all about, and it’s what Jesus is holding up as a model for Christian action; since God is generous, and we are to be like God, we should also be generous – whatever that may mean in our particular circumstances and in the lives of those who cross our path.

Yesterday was our annual Rummage Sale. It is our largest fund-raiser of the year, and each year everyone’s hard work and dedication pays off, and I am very glad for that. I wouldn’t be telling the truth if I said that the income from the sale doesn’t matter to funding the operations of the church’s ministries. But if that was the only reason for having the Rummage Sale, then we might as well open a campaign with Go Fund Me or any of the other on-line crowd funding websites and be done with it.

Instead, the Rummage Sale gives us an opportunity to practice generosity on many different levels.

First there is the generosity of all the items that are donated. Now in some cases donors are just glad to have all that stuff out of their house and can’t get rid of it fast enough; but in other cases, people have made hard decisions as they have down-sized or made room in their lives for the next stage, and so getting rid of kid’s toys, or a particular piece of furniture, or a picture, or set of dishes is hard because it represents letting go of something dear to you. Offering it to the Rummage Sale can be a way of giving thanks for what has been, and letting the Spirit do with those memories and possessions whatever God will do next. And so we who work with the donors can be gentle with those memories, and gracious in our response, even when we have to say “No, I’m sorry, we don’t take books and clothes” or “That piece of equipment needs to be cleaned before we can accept it.”

We have an opportunity to practice generosity in the way we interact with our shoppers, treating them with dignity, kindness and respect – even if they are being cranky and difficult, not to allow ourselves to be taken advantage of, but at least making our default position being one of open-heartedness. You never know – a kind and helpful word or deed extended to a rummage sale visitor may be the only thing that’s gone right for them that day; you can make difference.

Another way in which the Rummage Sale gives us an opportunity to practice God’s generosity is the way it helps to build community – not just among us as parishioners, but in our neighborhood and in our town. Having the tents up, being outside, creating a festive atmosphere where people can enjoy mixing with one another and being together says: this is what human community should be like, regardless of financial ability, race, age, social class or any of the other usual social dividers; we all gather under the tents and on the church lawns, All Saints’ providing a container for it all.

And finally, we practice God’s generosity in the way we share ourselves. It’s far more than “service with a smile”; it’s about being open to seeing and hearing what God is doing in the world all around you, all the time. The Rummage Sale brings people to our doorstep, and you never know: maybe someone comes to the sale thinking that they are looking for a frying pan or a bureau, but deep down they are actually looking for God.

Or even more to the point, perhaps the person who comes to you for help in trying to figure out the price of a bedspread says to you – in the course of your discussion – the very thing that God knew you needed to hear. Your act of generosity opens the door for the Holy Spirit to bless you, as much as you might bless someone else.

We have no need to be envious of God’s generosity, thinking back to the parable; it is abundant, un-looked for, and surprising. As faithful disciples, then, we need to practice generosity, day by day, bit by bit, in whatever ways we are able to.

Let us pray.

Gracious God,
You call us to work for you, and you surprise us with your generosity; make our hearts and souls to be a reflection of your character and goodness; and help us to make our actions and presence in the world a gift, and not a demand; a blessing, and not a curse, that your holy Name may be glorified, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Church, Millington, NJ
Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost
September 21, 2014

St. Paul said: Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Romans 12:13-14

I don’t know about you, but I’ve found the news this summer very hard to take: the threatening action of the Russian government towards Ukraine; the crisis of children in Central America running from targeted gang violence and coercion and seeking refuge across our border; the intermittent shelling between Israel and Gaza; the documented rise of anti-Semitism in Europe; the increasing atrocities and hostilities of the Islamic State group towards anyone who gets in their way – be they Christian, Yazidi, Shi’ite Muslim, or those who will not support and welcome them.

At some point I got so that I didn’t want to hear any more; it was too much. Then we went on our family vacation to Rhode Island where we had no television or internet, and we didn’t even buy a newspaper. It was a welcome respite.

But when we returned home a week later, the news was full of the protests and racial tensions and military vehicles and weapons in Ferguson, MO that were the aftermath of the killing of a black teenager by a white police officer.

And all of this was happening against the backdrop of two important anniversaries. The first was the fiftieth anniversary of the passage on July 2, 1964 of the Civil Rights Act and the massive effort of civil rights workers throughout the South to register black citizens to vote.

The second anniversary was the centenary of the start of World War I, and in particular, Britain’s entrance into the war on August 4, 1914; that which was supposed to be the war to end all wars.

And yet here we are, in the United States in 2014, with fear, distrust and injustice still so often being the first and primary response of leaders and institutions toward American citizens whose skin is dark. And that same fear, distrust, desire for control and revenge is getting played out over and over again all over the world.

On one level, this is nothing new; it is the result of unredeemed human nature – the desire to have what I want, when I want it, for me and my group, everyone else be damned, and I’m afraid that if someone else gets something then I’ll get nothing. This has been going on ever since Cain and Abel way back at the beginning of humankind, and to some extent we are just hearing about discord and violence much more quickly and loudly than we have in the past because of our technology; fighting starts in a far-away place, and it show up in the news feed on our phone or i-pad almost instantaneously. And so we feel the emotional impact right away.

But I think we are also in an objectively unstable, tenuous, and difficult time in the world for reasons that are as old as Cain and Abel, as old as the Sunni/Shia divide in 680 AD, as old as the expulsion of Jews from England and certain parts of Europe throughout the Middle Ages, as old as the four hundred years of the African slave trade in the Americas, as old as the re-drawing of the national maps in Europe and the Middle East after World War I…as well as factors that have developed over the last thirty, twenty, ten years.

The world is difficult and dangerous right now; we feel that, we are aware of it, and so what do we do about it? What do we, who follow Jesus, who have committed ourselves to living the love of God and neighbor in the world – what do we do when faced with so much violence and fear?

It would be foolish and naïve to act as if it doesn’t exist, or that somehow we might not be touched by it.

In the Gospel today Jesus tells the disciples that he will have to undergo great suffering and death, and he rebukes Peter for trying to convince him otherwise. Jesus tells the disciples that if they are to really be his followers then they must take up their own cross, just as he does, and follow after him. But what does that actually mean, what does it look like?

St. Paul, in his letter to the Roman Christians, gives us a pretty clear answer – what you might call the marks of a true Christian. He says “Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good… Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers.

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them.”

That’s a pretty tall order; it requires wisdom and courage to hold fast to what is good, and to not only hate what is evil, but refuse to cooperate with it; to bless our persecutors and leave the revenge to God. It means that we have to trust the Holy Spirit to help us not be consumed with fear and anger and hatred – even in the face of spreading violence and the power of those who wish to do us harm.

If we let ourselves get caught up in fear and hatred, in the endless spiral of violence, then we have given up some of our freedom in Christ, and have become captive to the spiritually and psychologically dark streams that can poison our relations with other people and with God.

There’s a difference between making a strong defense where needed and the desire for vengeance; and giving in to vengeance will just eat you alive.

Jesus is both the Prince of Peace and the just and holy Judge before whom the rulers of nations and peoples will one day need to give an accounting of their actions on behalf of the people they lead and serve.We can be confident that Jesus is doing his job, on earth as it is heaven, even though we don’t always see it, even if that seems very hazy right now. So we can let Jesus do his job, and concentrate on doing ours.

God calls us to live hospitably in the world – not in the sense of giving the perfect dinner party or having an immaculately clean house – but God’s hospitality requires that we make room for people who show up in our lives, and that we live with an expectation of celebration – not because “it’s five o’clock somewhere”, but because God’s goodness and mercy is greater than any fear or hatred.

Living hospitably means that we embrace the Holy Spirit’s surprises, that we come alongside people who may be quite different from us, ready to learn some of the ways God has been revealed to them and through them, willing to let down our guard and share our own stories of God’s grace and blessing and healing. Living Christian hospitality means being spiritually humble and knowing that we need to give constant energy to prayer if we are not to get burned out, if we are not to succumb to the frantic pace of the world, and the false promises it makes. And living hospitably means finding ways to respond to the real needs of real people – friend and enemy alike; needs for food, clothing, shelter, medical care, education, peace, friendship, justice and love.

I am going to give you some homework this week.

Please take the lectionary sheet home with you, and once a day (at least) read through this section of Romans until it strikes a chord for you – a feeling, a realization, a light-bulb moment: Is your love genuine? Are you holding fast to the good, or being consumed by evil? Are you celebrating your hope? Do you need to persevere in prayer? Are you clinging to revenge? Where do you see nobility in those around you?... whatever that chord might be for you.

Ask God to show you where you might need to make a change in your attitude or behavior, or the strength to make that change, or perhaps give thanks for something you have learned, or how much you have grown spiritually. Over the course of the week really live with this passage and whatever  the Holy Spirit is saying to you through it, and then take the news of the world or the news of your own life and see how the Scriptures speak to your concerns, your fears, your worries, your anger, your pain, your joy, your hope. That way you can be ready to live hospitably in God’s world, making space for God to come and work with you and through you for good.

Let us pray.
Gracious God, help us to let go of fear, anger, hate, prejudice, evil-intent and the desire for revenge. In the place of all those dark and dangerous streams, help us to stand on the firm rock which is your peace and justice and truth and hope, so that we may live following Jesus with openness and gladness in this world you have made. Amen.

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Church, Millington, NJ
Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost
August 31, 2014