Exodus 16:2-15; Matthew 20:1-16
Rev. Laura J. Collins
September 22, 2002
When Ric and I had been married one year, we decided to quit our jobs and become live-in house parents to a bunch of ex-offenders. We moved into the transitional house for guys coming out of prison, which was part of the Prison ministry of Ric's Catholic parish. Our job there was to get to know the guys, transport them to work, 12-step meetings, therapy and church, to share with them in weekly group meetings, manage the household budget, enforce the house rules and organize the household chores which we all shared. The guys took turns making supper and put items on the grocery list that they needed for their dinner. I did the grocery shopping.
On our first week in the house Jesse was planning to make stuffing and pork chops for his meal. I had gone to the stores and, being frugal with the house grocery money, bought the generic brand of stuffing. Jesse came down on his evening to being cooking and soon discovered that I had not gotten Stove-Top Stuffing, as he had specified. He began to shout and curse.
I hurried to the kitchen and asked, "What seems to be the problem, Jesse?"
Now let me just mention that Jesse, who stood about 6'2" had done time for several counts of aggravated assault and during his years in prison he'd had plenty of time to lift weights, if you catch my drift.
"Does this look like Stove-Top Stuffing to you?"
"No, that's the less expensive brand of the same thing."
"I asked for Stove-Top Stuffing. Can't you read? It's your job to buy the groceries we need."
By now, Jesse was in my face and I had gathered up my entire 5'5" frame to stare him right back down. Before you know it, we were in a shouting match. The other guys hovered at the door, uncertain how to proceed. All except my husband. He'd been in shouting matches with me before and he knew to stand clear.
To Jesse's credit, I'm sure he had a sore tongue before the matter was resolved, bitten to keep from calling me what names he might be able to think of for a bossy little white woman who didn't know the first thing about what it felt like to get out of prison and still have to answer to somebody; especially somebody who didn't know him, didn't know what it felt like to walk in his shoes, didn't understand the hardships he'd been through. Besides which, cooking a dinner that the other guys enjoyed was a matter of pride in the house, so getting the wrong ingredients was a felony offense on my part.
But I confess that I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying, "You ungrateful lug! At least you're not eating prison food or out on the streets scraping for yourself!"
Gratitude. We always desire it in others, but sometimes it's hard to muster in ourselves. Even in a country where we have choices beyond comprehension for most of the world and what we consider standard is really luxurious. Each of our Biblical stories today speaks of lack of gratitude in the face of God's generosity. In the Exodus story, the people who have been liberated from slavery begin to long to return to oppression, just so they could be assured a meal. In their present frustration and hunger, slavery sounds better than freedom if it means food in their bellies.
Moses has just busted his behind to get them out of harm's way and all he hears are complaints. It kind of reminds me how I felt standing next to Jesse. "You want to go back to prison to eat? Fine, go back. Forget about all the people who've worked with you to get you a job, a home, this ministry, this food. Go on back and see if you like it better!"
What Moses said to the Israelites was: "Don't complain to me, complain to God. I'm just doing what God told me, so if you don't like the plan, take the complaints straight to the head planning office." They did. And God, as it turns out, was more gracious than either Moses or me. God listened with compassion and then provided what was needed. Quails for meat at night and manna in the morning.
In God's economy, the response to ingratitude is graciousness. The response to complaint is compassion.
The parable that Jesus tells of day laborers in the vineyard is another example of God's economy. In it, the vineyard owner goes out early in the morning to hire workers and agrees to pay them a fair day's wage. Then he returns at noon and three and again at five to collect more workers to go out in the vineyard. At the end of the day, the first workers get exactly what had been promised, while the last workers, who had worked for only one hour, received the same.
Naturally, the ones who put in a 12-hour shift felt cheated. How unfair! These last guys only worked one hour and got as much as those who worked all day! But the owner reminds them, "I paid you what I promised. I didn't cheat you. So if I choose to be generous with these others, why should you complain? Are you envious because I am generous?"
We don't have to go far to understand this economy of day laborers. Only drive down University Ave. and see the crowds gathered to wait for a chance to work. Almost 200 show up at Casa de Maryland on a typical day. Even late into the day I see clumps of men, huddled, hoping; dependent on the contractors and bosses who may or may not drive by that day, who may or may not need one more worker.
It is easy to imagine how the first workers felt: there were up bright and early, ready to work a long, hard day. Where were these other slackers when the first truck came? Why didn't they get hired before noon or three?
But I wonder how the latecomers felt. Maybe they didn't make it to the corner by 5 a.m. because a sick child kept them home an extra hour, while they scrambled to find a neighbor who could baby-sit for the day. Or maybe they worked a late shift the night before and couldn't move as quickly in the morning. Maybe at three they had already done one shift and were hoping for a second job.
Then again, maybe they were there when the first truck came, but didn't get picked. Were they not loud enough, pushy enough? Did they not understand the questions shouted in English? Who knows? Do we know when we see these neighbors of our on the corner of our streets? The only reason given in the Biblical story is that nobody has offered to hire them yet. It is a plausible answer. Unemployment is a reality every day.
Imagine for a moment that you are that day laborer standing over on University. You've been there all day - truck after truck has come, but there are just too many people for every job. Your desperation is growing. An anxious knot gnaws at your stomach. Your children are depending on the money you will make today. Even if you can only make a few bucks, that will be better than none. You continue to wait. Finally, at 5:00 a truck slows down. You take the job, hoping you might make an impression on the boss so that you can be among the first picked tomorrow, since today's wage will hardly be worth the time.
Then imagine your surprise when the boss calls you to get paid at 6:00 and hands you a full day's check. What joy! What a blessing!
Perhaps spiritually some of us feel like the workers who've been at it since dawn. Quietly, we expect God to reward us with just a little extra blessing. Not that life has been unfair to us ... but shouldn't we get a bonus for our years of devotion?
Some of us here may feel more like the latecomer. Surprised by joy. Surprised to discover the generous blessings of grace alter in life.
Some of us may feel more like the Israelites in the desert, wandering in search of answers, wondering if this journey with God is really worth the long, dry times. Wishing our spiritual leader could make it easier, faster, more worth the effort we're expending.
And some of us are Moses: "God, why did you give me these belly-aching souls? Can't I just go back to watching sheep?"
Wherever we are, we are part of God's economy. In God's economy, the response to complaint is compassion. In God's economy, the response to ingratitude is graciousness. And in God's economy, there is no unemployment.
Webmaster : Brian C. Monsell