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fair, fairness, generosity, generous, God's way, Gospel, Jesus, justice, Philippians, St. Paul, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, vineyard, worker
The parables of Jesus often find us scratching our heads or grumbling about the outcome of the stories. This weekend’s gospel is one of the more familiar distressing examples. It’s that perplexing story of the workers in the vineyard who were paid what had been agreed upon at the beginning of the day. Fine, right? No, not really, since those who had been hired just an hour before the end of the workday, because no one had offered them work until then, got the same pay as those who had worked all day.
How are we able to make this a story of justice? It’s impossible really, but here’s where the reading from Isaiah comes in: “My thoughts are not your thoughts”, God says, “nor are my ways your ways.” We think everything should be fair. The person who cuts the pie must do so judiciously so that no one gets a bigger piece than anyone else. But sometimes some of the people don’t even get a bite, never mind a smaller piece! The workers who had been hired for the last hour were also probably standing out in the hot sun, hoping for someone to come and hire them so they could feed their family that day. And so God’s way prevailed.
So what is fair? Does it always mean everyone gets the exact same treatment or remuneration for the same circumstance? Or could it be that each person, being a unique reflection of the divine, should be considered individually according to need? We have been amazingly generous as a country over the past several weeks, reaching out to those affected by hurricanes or fires. People have given their time, their talent and their treasure to assure that anyone in need can receive as much help as can be given.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if, all the time, we might be willing to fling open our hearts to those in need without stinting – as if everyone had a right to as much as everyone else? Isn’t that how we would always want God to treat us? Paul’s last line to the Philippians today calls them to “conduct yourselves in a way worthy of the gospel.” Perhaps we ought to try to remember that challenge ourselves as we listen to Jesus in the gospel today asking us, “Are you envious because I am generous?”
Although we are moving through the season of harvest here in our country now, the gospel for today reminds us of the necessity of sowing seeds on good ground. (LK 8:4-15) The disciples of Jesus didn’t understand the parable in which his message was “hidden” so he did something that rarely appears in these gospel texts. He explained the meaning! As he spoke of the different kinds of “soil” in which the word of God might be sown, they heard the pitfalls of life in how the yield of what was sown might be more or less. In the end, we find that as for the seed that fell on rich soil, they are the ones who, when they have heard the word, embrace it with a generous and good heart, and bear fruit through perseverance. (vs.15)
Today is the feast of St. Dominic, another of the great founders of religious communities. Dominic’s religious order is called the Dominicans but the formal title is “Order of Preachers,” thus the sometimes puzzling designation “O.P.” after their names. Dominic was a contemporary of St. Francis of Assisi and much like Francis in his asceticism and his desire to spread the Gospel. Reminiscent of the love Francis had for the poor, Dominic sold all of his books to help his neighbors who had survived a great famine. Like Francis, Dominic saw the need for a new type of religious organization, one whose members did not stay behind the cloistered walls of the monastery but rather traveled among the people, in the way of the first apostles, to spread the good news.
Over the past 48 hours I have had the opportunity to spend time with two women whose fathers died this past summer. Last night my own father appeared in a dream which I only remember for his passing presence and the appearance of his wedding ring – not on his hand but clearly his – a strong symbol in his life and the lives of our family.
It’s always fascinating to learn something new when I am reflecting on the named feasts of Christianity. Today, as I read the familiar story of the appearance of the Blessed Virgin Mary under the title of Our Lady of Guadalupe, I was surprised to learn that the main character was a convert to Christianity and was given the name Juan Diego at the time of his baptism. A poor native living in a small village near Mexico City, his Indian name was Cuauhtlatohuac (“Singing Eagle”). I suppose this isn’t an earth-shattering revelation and it certainly is easier to spell and pronounce a name that means “John James” rather than his Indian name, but for me it emphasizes what is written in the reflection for today from franciscanmedia.org. Fr. Don Miller says that Mary’s appearance to Juan Diego as one of his people is a powerful reminder that Mary and the God who sent her accept all people. In the context of the sometimes rude and cruel treatment of the Indians by the Spaniards, the apparition was a rebuke to the Spaniards and an event of vast significance for Native Americans.
It is often said that “life imitates art.” This morning’s gospel reminded me in a nearly perfect analogous situation that sometimes “life imitates gospel.” We had in our yard a beautiful hibiscus tree, a memorial to my father, that was moved early in the spring of this year out of necessity. As the year progressed I was concerned to see that it produced no flowers – even no leaves – so it seemed doomed. When our handyman asked if he should cut it down I used almost the exact words of the gospel, saying: Leave it for this year. I shall cultivate the ground around it; it may flower in the future. (LK 13:8-9) I must admit that my hope was not strong but, miraculously, just last month we saw a bit of green on a couple of branches and even a few buds. Two weeks ago, during a Wisdom School at our retreat center, I asked a participant from Maine who is an expert on all things natural and agrarian to look at it. She assured me energetically that the tree would survive and even thrive next year, telling me what nourishment would help if I’d just dig around the base and add what she wrote down for me. I don’t know what happened to the poor fig tree in the gospel but I do trust that I will see the beauty of hibiscus again next year.
