The following is an edited version of a sermon I preached on November 17, 2018 at the Azure Hills Seventh-day Adventist Church in Grand Terrace, California. That means, among other things, that this is rather long winded for a blog. You have been warned! – Mike Leno

“So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”

That’s the punchline for one of Jesus’ most famous and most difficult stories—the story of the workers in the vineyard in Matthew 20. And the previous chapter, ends with an almost identical saying: “But many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first.” That’s the punchline to the Rich Young Ruler story.

Any time an author includes two stories back to back with identical conclusions, we can safely assume they are dealing with the same type of lesson or subject. But knowing the punchline in this case, is not the same as knowing the moral or point of the story. What does Jesus mean that “the first will be last and the last will be first?” Maybe he means that in entering the kingdom, those who appearto be last, will in the end, actually be first.

Stage 13, 2018 Tour de France, Photo Finish

Stage 13 of the last Tour de France had a very competitive sprint to the finish. Peter Sagan, in his green points leader jersey, looked like he was going to miss out this time since he was behind a number of riders coming down the stretch. If you watch cycling, however, you know that’s a usual tactic for Sagan. He always hangs back until just the right moment. In this case, he covered the last few meters in third place, surged at the last possible moment, threw his bike toward the line, and won the stage. The photo finish revealed that he had won by less than the diameter of his wheel.

So here’s my question. Is this a good illustration of what Jesus was talking about when he said the last will be first? Sagan appeared to be losing. But in the end, he was actually in first place at the finish line. So last, in his case, only appeared to be last. Which is why a closer look revealed that he was first.

But here’s the difficult truth. This cannot be the meaning Jesus had in mind. Even if appearances are deceiving at first, a photo finish still affirms that first is first, second is second, and last is still last. What Jesus is saying is much more radical and uncomfortable. He says that first is last, not just in appearance but in reality. And last is really first, not because of a last minute super human effort but because last really is first—at least in the kingdom of heaven.

What kind of logic is this? How does this make sense? And how does the parable of the workers in the vineyard help? If anything, it seems to make the problem worse. What the land owner does at the end of the day may be nice for some. But it’s not as nice for others. It’s just not fair.

A land owner, says Jesus, hired workers at the beginning of the day, mid-morning, at noon, midafternoon, and then an hour before quitting time. But then comes the uncomfortable part. He paid them all the same exact wage. Our innate sense of justice screams out, “It’s just not fair!”

There’s actually an old rabbinic story much like this in which a King hires people to work all day. But after they start working the king takes a liking to the most productive worker. So he takes him for a walk instead of making him work. The two of them have a nice walk throughout the rest of the day. But at the end of the day the king pays everyone the same, which of course causes the other workers to protest. But here’s the punchline to that story as written in the Talmud.

The king said to them, “This one accomplished more in two hours than you did in a whole day!” (y. Ber. 2:8, I.2.Q)

So the rabbinic story actually resolves the tension. Since the one who worked only two hours accomplished more, the last in this case was actually first—because he was best. Everything turns out to be fair and reasonable after all.

But Jesus does not resolve the tension in his story. Instead, he emphasizes it as the main feature of the plot. He gives no hint that the workers hired late in the day were somehow worth more than the other workers. And the landowner in the story does not dispute that he is being uneven in the way he pays the workers. He even pays the last ones first in sight of the others making inequity obvious and jealousy inevitable.

There is one moment just before the punch line when the landowner says in Matthew 20:15, “Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?”

And here is the introduction of grace in the story—the landowner’s generosity. But notice that this does not resolve the tension. It only identifies where the tension comes from.

The tension we feel at the end of the story comes from our innate sense of justice. In the life that you and I live—as well as that of Jesus’ listeners—we think people should get what they deserve. So when people get more than they deserve, especially when they get more grace, more forgiveness, more charity, or more rewards than we do, our natural tendency is to be envious and even angry that the land owner, or even God is not being fair.

I think that’s why our human tendency is to make grace fair instead of generous. We find ways to qualify people for grace—it’s those who get the best grades but have the least money; it’s those who work harder; it’s those who won’t use our charity for drugs or alcohol.

Our impulse to make grace fair instead of generous is also what makes us refuse help. “I don’t believe in taking charity,” I might say. I would rather suffer than accept something I didn’t work for. I want to deserve what is given to me.

So we compromise with grace. We make it something to be deserved. We turn it into payment for services rendered. That also explains why during the holidays we’re likely to exchange gifts rather than give them. We want grace to be fair.

A young man approached me recently in a grocery store parking lot. He said he needed money for food because he had lost his job and his parents had kicked him out of the house. He didn’t really look desperate, but I gave him $20 and continued toward the grocery story. Suddenly I was gripped with a sense of shame and regret. That kid probably didn’t deserve the $20 I just gave him. He had probably conned me with a sob story that wasn’t even true. And he was probably going to buy alcohol or drugs and then party with his friends, I thought.

I was not sorry I gave away $20. I was sorry that I didn’t give it to someone more deserving. But here’s my situation. I have limited resources. My grace is limited. I’m only human—and certainly not rich by any stretch of the imagination. I can’t afford to help every hardship case that comes along. So naturally I’d like to be choosey about who I help. But Jesus seems to be telling us that the kingdom of grace is radically different. Unlike me, God has unlimited resources. Like the land owner, he can give grace generously to whoever he wants to, and whenever he wants to. God’s grace never runs out. And in his kingdom, receiving grace is not based on how much you need or deserve it!

The kingdom of heaven is turning out to be very strange indeed! No wonder it makes us feel uneasy. And Jesus is not ready to resolve the tension for us. In fact, with a twinkle in his eye, he’s poking and prodding us a little—trying to provoke us into thinking outside of our boxed-in assumptions. After his explanation of generosity and doing “what I want with my own money,” he gives us that famous punchline. “So the last will be first, and the first will be last.” “You figure it out!” he seems to be saying.

Jesus seems to be getting at something more profound and all-encompassing than just the generosity of grace. That grace is a gift is just a start. There’s something very subversive about this reoccurring punch line; the first is last and the last is first. Taken literally it’s quite troubling, and perhaps meaningless.

Let’s back up now and ask ourselves some basic questions about the story. Let’s treat this as a great piece of literature by which Jesus is leading us not only to think certain things but to feel certain things as well. What emotions does Jesus want us to feel?

First, we feel sympathy for those who worked all day. They worked hard and long for what they earned. We can identify with them and feel their pain, their fatigue, and even their sense of fairness.

Second, we feel envy regarding those who worked just one hour. Maybe we’d like to identify with them. But that would make us feel guilty since we already feel sympathy for those who worked all day. Those hired at the end of the day lucked out somehow. We should all be so lucky! But we’re not. Envy is the green-eyed monster eating us alive from the inside out.

Third, we feelanger at the land owner for being inconsistent, unfair, and a bad example as a businessman. Guess what’s going to happen on day two when he goes back to find more workers? No one will be ready to work until the end of the day! The whole situation feels like a mixture of injustice and bad business practices. And the fact that the landowner can do what he wants to and discriminate however he wants to only makes it worse.

I really doubt that most of us have allowed ourselves to feel these emotions. After all, this is Jesus telling the story. We’re not about to admit that he’s making us jealous and angry. But I’ve come to realize that Jesus wants us to feel this story as well as know the details of the plot. Acknowledging our negative emotions may teach us more than if we treat this as a purely intellectual exercise. Good literature does that.

Our negative emotions are triggered because the story violates a couple of our most basic assumptions: One, that life is supposed to work out in the long run. There may be hardship, pain, and suffering along the way. But in the end, everything is supposed to work out for the best. And two, that everyone gets what they deserve in the end. Life is unfair. That’s obvious. But in the end its all supposed to even out. The scales of justice will be balanced. And everyone will get exactly what they deserve; no more, no less.

And these assumptions are based on one basic reality of life: Making a living for most of us means competition for limited resources. It is the reality of scarcity or lack. In real life, there’s a limit to our resources. So we are careful to be fair and reward only the deserving. It’s quid pro quo—you scratch my back; I’ll scratch yours. Balance, equity, and fairness in the context of scarcity.

There’s a lack of jobs. And often there is a lack of good workers. So of course, we encourage competition. That way we can hire the best and most qualified. And we pay people according to their market value. People are worth what the competitive market says they are worth. In our world, this is not right or wrong. It just is. It’s our reality.

Have you ever wondered why professional basketball players make so much more than kindergarten teachers? It’s their market value. It’s not how much good they do for the world. It’s what the market says they are worth. We will pay huge sums of money to watch basketball. Kindergarten teachers? Not so much—even though I imagine coaching egotistical basketball players may be similar in some respects to teaching kindergarteners! The value of basketball is determined by the market. And the market is based on open competition for the consumer’s money. As long as we think the competition in the public market place is fair, we’re ok with the outcome.

Our lives remain embedded in a context of competition. And in a competition, there are winners, and there are losers. Jesus, however, brings us into a completely different kind of kingdom in which competition is unnecessary and counterproductive. And that doesn’t always set well with us.

The kingdom of grace is subversive. It undermines the very foundation of our worldly kingdoms. Notice how this works out in the sequence of stories beginning with Jesus blessing the children.

In Matthew 19, Jesus blesses the children. The implied question of the story is this: Who has the greatest status in the kingdom? The answer is: There is no such thing as a hierarchy of status in the kingdom since kids are just as important as adults. Of such is the kingdom of heaven.

In the same chapter Matthew tells about the Rich Young Ruler. The implied question of the story is this: Who is most qualified to be in the kingdom? Answer: The kingdom is not something you qualify for. The most spiritual and successful person can fail to get in. The best candidate went away sorrowfully.

In Chapter 20 we find the story of the workers in the vineyard: The implied question of the story: Who gets rewarded the most in the kingdom? Answer: There is no competition for rewards in the kingdom because our generous God has limitless resources of grace.

The kingdom has no hierarchy, requires no qualifications, and succeeds without competition. No wonder we just don’t get it sometimes. No wonder we often try to turn the kingdom of heaven into a hierarchical competitive enterprise. That’s the only kind of kingdom we understand! And that’s why Jesus told a story that is uncomfortable for competitive, market driven, aggressive but fair business people like us!

The disciples, of course, didn’t get it. They loved the kingdom of heaven. They even loved the fact that it was a different sort of kingdom—more compassionate, more attainable, and more fair than the kingdoms of the world. But they still thought in terms of getting ahead; of winners and losers. So after telling about the workers in the vineyard, Matthew includes the following story:

Two of Jesus’ closest friends, James and John, came to him one day and requested the highest positions in the future kingdom—which expressed in terms of the day was to sit on the right and on the left of Jesus. And just to make sure they got in line first they had their mother intercede for them and do the asking. The Implied question of this story: Does having a closer relationship with Jesus give you an advantage in the kingdom? We might want to think about that question for a moment before getting to the answer.

My Adventist upbringing in this regard has been a little confusing. Whereas my church has a very legalistic history—not long ago we thought we were saved by keeping the Sabbath and all the other rules. And focusing on a relationship with Jesus was a great leap forward from the old legalism. Bu it seems that we still have some way to go in understanding grace.

I have heard it said that I can have a saving relationship with Jesus. Although that seems true in some sense, I wonder if there’s a danger of making my relationship with Jesus into a type of work; a way to qualify for grace and a way to get ahead in the kingdom. Have you ever heard someone exclaim, “That person is so close to God. If anyone is ready for the kingdom, it’s them!” I’ve said such things. The implication is (or can be) that a devout person, one for whom thinking and talking about spiritual things seems to come naturally (or they work harder at it), has an advantage in the kingdom of heaven.

I think we’re all tempted to think that way. James and John certainly were. And they figured it was only smart to get in line first and cash in on their advantage. They were part of the inner circle. And if Jesus wouldn’t listen to them, maybe their mother could lobby even more effectively than they could by themselves.

It was as if James and John had forgotten everything Jesus had just taught them. They put all their questions, insecurities, and ambitions about the kingdom together and asked Jesus to put his blessing on them. Who has status? Who is most qualified, and who will get rewarded the most? All those questions would be resolved if Jesus would just grant them the two highest positions in the kingdom. It’s not what you know. It’s who you know that counts the most. Right? Jesus’ answer: Not in the kingdom of heaven.

What does the kingdom of heaven look like in real life? Is it even possible to have an organization that aspires to be part of the kingdom? The idea that there has to be winners and losers dies hard. It’s called a zero-sum game—the assumption that in order to win, someone has to lose. It’s also the assumption that elevating someone puts someone else down. It’s the assumption that you have to leverage whatever assets you have—whether it’s a relationship with Jesus, a talent for leadership, or even great biblical understanding—in order to get ahead in the kingdom.

But living in the kingdom of heaven is not a zero-sum game. There’s not some secret sauce that makes our spiritual life perfect. There’s no secret handshake or prophetic timeline that gives us an edge. Grace is free by definition. And that makes it radical and subversive to all of our old worldly kingdoms.

Jesus finally called his disciples together and gave them the straight truth about the kingdom:

So Jesus called them to him and said, “You know that in the world, rulers lord it over their subjects, and the great men make them feel the weight of authority; but it shall not be so with you. Among you, whoever wants to be great must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be the willing slave of all—like the Son of Man; he did not come to be served, but to serve and to give up his life as a ransom for many.” Matthew 20:25-28 NEB

So what shall we make of all this? First, God’s grace is subversive. It undermines the normal system of competition for rewards that we are so used to. But grace, which is the expression of God’s love, is what makes life truly meaningful. It’s not getting ahead that matters. Its loving and being loved unselfishly that gives life purpose and meaning.

Second, living by grace is radical. It’s all or nothing. It means giving, receiving, and serving without the need of hierarchy and quid pro quo. You can’t compromise with grace. If you do, it’s not grace!

Generosity—grace—love, that is what energizes the spiritual life and all relationships. Status, accomplishments, and even my relationship status with God are no competitive edge in the kingdom. They may be the results of grace and gifts of the kingdom. But they are not the means of gaining the kingdom and are certainly not signs of superiority. It’s just not that kind of kingdom!

Entering the kingdom of heaven is not like winning a bike race. There is not now, and never will be, any kind of hierarchy, advantage, or status ranking in the kingdom of heaven. It’s all grace. As Jesus put it, even the Son of Man came to serve. As Paul put it, it is by grace you have been saved.