We start today the reading of the fifth and
last book of Matthew’s gospel, which is about the approaching advent of the
kingdom of heaven. The events narrated in this part take place in Judea and in
Jerusalem, just before Jesus’ passion. The parable of the workers in the
vineyard is peculiar to Matthew; we do not find it in the other gospels. Since
this evangelist writes his gospel for the Jews who had become Christian, his
concern is to explain them how come God, who had chosen Israel as his people,
now is turning to the pagans.
We can find different layers of meaning in this
parable. Maybe, at its origin, Jesus addressed it to the Pharisees, who could
be considered the workers of the first hour and complained that Jesus used to
welcome and eat with sinners—the workers of the last hour. In Matthew’s gospel,
the parable takes a wider meaning, and so in the first laborers we can see the
Jews, and the last workers could be considered the image of the pagans. We, in
our turn, could see ourselves in the first comers; and in the laborers who came
last, we could recognize those people who convert themselves after a life of
sin. Now we will consider the parable as it is in the gospel. Then each one can
make different applications by himself.
The master calls to work into his vineyard five
groups of laborers: at dawn, at nine, at noon, at three and at five. The way he
summons them is different: with the workers called at dawn the master makes an
agreement, that they accept: he will give them “the usual daily wage”
(literally, “a denarius”); with those hired at nine, at noon and at three, he
just makes a promise: “I will give you what is just (quod iustum fuerit, dabo vobis),” without specifying how
much he will give them; those called at five—the master limits himself to send
them to work into his vineyard, saying nothing about their pay; they trust the
master and go without demanding guarantees. At the end of the day, the laborers
are paid all in the same way: all of them receive the usual daily wage—a
denarius. In a sense, the last arrivals are rewarded for their confidence; and,
after working only one hour, are payed with the wage for a workday. Of course,
the first called grumble against the landowner because, according to them, it is
not fair to give the same pay to those who have worked only one hour and to
them, who have borne “the day’s burden and the heat.” For them, justice means
to give each one according to their merit: if you work twelve hours, you
deserve twelve times what the one, who has worked one hour, receives. But the
master has a different idea of justice: I have made an agreement with you; and
I keep that agreement, giving you a denarius; I would be unfair, if I did not
give you what agreed. If then I want to give the same wage to others, who have
worked less than you, first, it is not your business; second, this has nothing
to do with justice, it just depends on my generosity; third, you cannot interfere
with my generosity. And, as if that was not enough, the master unmasks the true
reason of the first comers’ complaint: their resentment does not come from
justice, but from envy.
There is a final point to consider. The workers
of the first hour, while grumbling about the alleged injustice suffered, forget
that they also have been favored by the master when he called them to work into
his vineyard. The master was not bound to choose them; it was a privilege to be
hired. Now they remember only “the day’s burden and the heat,” but they do not
consider that they could still stand idle in the marketplace. Of course, work
is tiring; but, without work, they could not live. They should consider
themselves lucky to have been chosen and thank the master for that. We too
often complain that being Christian is a burden, and envy those who are not,
because they would be freer than us. But we forget that having been called to
serve the Lord from dawn is a priceless honor, which exceeds whatever trouble
we could experience.
Q
