25th Sunday of Ordinary Time (A) : Homily / Sermon

“Why be envious because I am generous?” (Mt 20:16)

 

How to understand this story from the Gospels? 

On the face of it, it looks like something to do with employment rights, with politics and economics.

 

On the one hand, we might read it and think that it about the rights of the employer, the vineyard owner, the boss. It is his business, his vineyard, his money. The workers work at his behest. He hires as he wills, and he can pay as much, or as little as he wants. The workers have no rights, and rely upon the good disposition of the man who is really in charge. It is a parable for the rich!

 

Yet on the other hand, we could read it very differently. The vineyard owner comes to an agreement with the men (they are all men, of course) as to what is a fair day’s pay for a fair day’s work. One denarius a day is the living wage. And those who are unable to work for a full day, should not be deprived of a living income because of this. Even if someone is unable to work, so the parable seems to indicate, their basic human dignity means that they should not be deprived of what they need to live. It is a parable for the poor! 

 

Well whether these views of society are right or wrong - and we may all have our own opinions - this is a very bad way to read the Gospel. All too often people will take Scripture as a sort of peg to hang their own opinions upon, picking the odd verse out of context, reading a text in a way in which it was never meant to be read, expounding one passage yet ignoring many others. 

 

No - this Gospel isn’t about workers rights, or employers power, about red tape or the welfare state. It is much more fundamental than that. It is clearly, very clearly, about the boundless generosity of God, and the way in which we respond to it. 

 

“Why be envious because I am generous?” (Mt 20:16)

 

It was Pope Francis, who in his wonderful letter “Gospel of Joy” wrote that too often Christians emerge from Church looking as if it was always Lent but never Easter. (It reminded me of the statement in CS Lewis’ The Lion the Witch and the Warderobe that in Narnia it was always Winter but never Christmas). 

It’s true: We find petition so much easier than thanksgiving, asking for something we need, rather than being grateful for something we already have. We are very aware of what we haven’t got, yet we take for granted, we don’t even notice, what we do have. We become, if we are not careful, the Church of the Half Empty Glass, always thirsting for what is missing - rather than savouring what is right before our eyes. 

 

And yet - and yet. When we see what we have, when we identify What God has given us,  When we appreciate it - then we are transformed not with envy … but with joy, for the person who is truly happy is not the one who has everything he wants, but who is grateful for everything he has. 

 

Last week, we were taught that the mercy which God shows to us, should be find its expression in our own readiness to forgive. And this week - a very similar point - the boundless generosity of God should be expressed in our gratitude, and because of that in our own generosity to others. 

 

For his generosity is indeed boundless. It is limitless. The sun and rain fall on the rich and poor alike. There are no favourites in his kingdom, no places of honour. No pride of place for the rich, or the cradle catholic, or the person of status. No back of the queue, for the first shall be last and the last shall be first. The blessings of his love and his forgiveness are unending. 

 

“Why be envious because I am generous?” (Mt 20:16)

 

No: his generosity should not be met with our envy but with our gratitude, and because of our gratitude, then our generosity, our happiness, our welcome too. The gladness of our gratitude does not close our hearts with envy, but opens our arms with joy.

24th Sunday of the Year : Homily / Sermon

‘Lord, how often must I forgive my brother if he wrongs me? As often as seven times?’ Jesus answered, ‘Not seven, I tell you, but seventy-seven times.’ (Matthew 18:21)

 

Is there any sin which cannot be forgiven? Or more to the point - is there someone who you just cannot forgive for what they have done to you or to someone you care about? It is not unusual, in families, and after the breakdown of relationships, for people to claim that there is no way that they could possibly forgive someone for what they have done. 

 

I remember many years ago at an RCIA/Journey in Faith group the parish priest was speaking about this very subject. God, he said, can and will forgive any sin, however great, if the sinner is truly sorry, truly contrite. One group member was a bit alarmed by this: “What?” He said. Do you mean that he will even forgive Hitler?” It wasn’t the question which the priest was expecting, but nonetheless he said “Yes, God can even forgive Hitler”. “Well,” the man replied to the whole group, “if I meet him in heaven, I won’t talk to him!”

 

It is a similar sort of question which Peter asks Jesus at the beginning of today’s Gospel: “How often must I forgive someone? As many as Seven times?”

 

And, not for the first time, nor even the last, Jesus replies with a story which turns our usual expectations on their heads. You see, the man in the story, the “unjust servant”, far from being unusual, or particularly wicked, is just like the rest of us. He is very good at repenting but absolutely hopeless at forgiving. 

 

We teach our children to say sorry if they have done wrong. We know that we must be genuinely contrite to receive absolution. We know that when we have done wrong we should apologise. We only find it hard to say sorry - if we do - if we find it hard to accept what we have done was wrong. But we do know that when people do bad things they must apologise. And Nowadays we even expect politicians and leaders of institutions to apologise for things done many years ago by those they now represent. 

 

And this means that we think of forgiveness only as a response not as an initiative, something that we might give or withhold, not something that we would ever want to offer. 

 

If we have been hurt our natural response might be to get our own back, to seek revenge, a form of justice, or just some nastiness that we think will make us feel a bit better. This all seems very natural. And even sensible. We see it on the world scene, especially in the way the US threatens North Korea - sow the wind, Trump says, and you will reap the whirlwind. It has a logic to it. We apply it also to our own lives, often without thinking. It just seems right. 

We taught our children not to fight - not even to hit back - because Jesus said we should turn the other cheek. Nevertheless, our oldest son got into a fight with one of his friends. When he took his to task, he said in protest “But he hit me back first!”

 

Ah well “Revenge is a dish best served cold,” (http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/revenge-is-a-dish-best-served-cold.html)  as the saying goes. 

 

But there is another saying, which more closely follows the teaching of Jesus “an eye for an eye leaves everyone blind”. (https://quoteinvestigator.com/2010/12/27/eye-for-eye-blind)

 

In fact, Jesus does not so much disagree with the “an eye for an eye”, but instead radically shifts our perspective. His focus is not upon faults, but on forgiveness - not on the sin, but upon the reconciliation - he puts the initiative not with the one who has done wrong, but on the one who has been hurt. What is most important is not contrition, but conversion. 

 

We see this not just in this parable, but throughout his teaching, and indeed his life. 

 

In today’s Gospel, he says We should forgive, because we have been forgiven. In Sermon on the Mount, he warns us against seeing the speck in other peoples’ eyes, but not the log in our own. As we have already noted, he tells us to “turn the other cheek”, and in the prayer which he taught us to say, we say so frequently “Forgive us our trespasses - as we forgive those who trespass against us.” And of course, from the cross, he declares in the moments of his sacrifice: “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.”

 

No - we should think not about how and why we may refuse forgiveness, but seek instead ways we can offer it.