Year A, Pentecost 16
Good Shepherd on the Hill—Austin, TX
Jonathan Hanneman
September 24, 2017
“So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”
After reading today’s Gospel passage, I had grand ideas for a sermon about selfishness and how God would like us to rejoice when good things happen to other people. The parable of the generous gentleman seems like a perfect setting for that, and it’s a message I often need to hear. At some point in the future, I probably will preach that sermon. But this week, once I opened my Bible to start studying our passage, something else struck my eye and started digging in my brain: the verse immediately before today’s Gospel used almost the exact same phrasing as the one at the end of our reading.
“…many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.”
This semester in Bible class, we’re studying the Hebrew prophets. One of the things our professors have told us to watch out for is the repetition of a phrase at the beginning and end of a scripture passage. Biblical writers often use repetition to emphasize or clarify a point. I did some searching and realized this particular phrase may have been one of Jesus’ favorite riddles. It appears once each in both Mark and Luke, although in slightly different settings. In the book of Revelation, Jesus refers to himself as “the first and the last” using the same underlying Greek words while also saying he’s bringing a reward with him. Since our phrase shows up a few different places in the Bible and in a few different contexts, there must be some particular meaning or solution to it. What is it about the last being first and the first being last that our scripture writers wanted their fellow believers to understand? Or a better question, how did they think the riddle of the first and the last would help us live out the Gospel?
Growing up in church, I heard the first/last-last/first saying frequently, though as I think back, no one ever really bothered to explain it. Our common, never-quite-voiced understanding was that if you were humble enough or holy enough, God would end up giving you a nice reward. At least, that’s how I understood it. Basically, if you won at being the most humble person, you would earn some sort of cosmic prize that would show everybody just how much better than them you really were.
Thinking about it though, that explanation doesn’t make much sense. If I were the absolute best at being humble, technically that would mean that I took first place in humility. But if I took first in humility, then I would be in last place at “Most Humble Award” time. Wouldn’t it make more sense to try to be bad at humility so I could get the grand prize? But if I’m trying to be bad at something, that means I’m actually pretty darn good at it; otherwise I wouldn’t have to try to do a bad job. Adding to the complexity, if God judges by character, God would know that despite appearing to be a self-centered braggart, I was actually amazingly humble. So in God’s eyes I’d still come in pretty high on the humility chart and would ultimately end up being pushed down toward last place while the people who were genuinely selfish jerks would get the best prizes.
Well that sucks: it’s win-win for the bad guys and lose-lose for the good guys (aka: me). Sadly, it does sound a lot like the reality of my high school experience.
So does the first being last and the last being first mean that those who put in a good faith effort lose while the slackers win? That doesn’t seem right. I certainly hope it’s not right—I’ve put a lot of effort into trying over the last forty years. And from what I’ve read elsewhere in the Bible, we as believers are supposed to “strive” and “press forward,” to “take up [our] cross[es]” and “bear one another’s burdens.” That certainly sounds like trying to me.
Maybe our Bible passage can give us some help.
“For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner...”
Hmm. My teachers have effectively implanted yet another alarm in my head: if your Bible passage starts with the word “for,” you need to back up at least a few verses to get some context. Okay, let’s do that. The larger context of the passage is the story of a man who asked Jesus how to get eternal life. Jesus told him to sell all his possessions, but the man leaves sad because he has a lot of stuff. Jesus comments that it can be hard for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven, so the disciples are like, “Hey, we’re poor! What do we get?” We’ll pick up the reading again there.
Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, at the renewal of all things, when the Son of Man is seated on the throne of his glory, you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel. And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields, for my name’s sake, will receive a hundredfold, and will inherit eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.
“For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. After agreeing with the laborers for the usual daily wage, he sent them into his vineyard. When he went out about nine o’clock, he saw others standing idle in the marketplace; and he said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.’ So they went. When he went out again about noon and about three o’clock, he did the same. And about five o’clock he went out and found others standing around; and he said to them, ‘Why are you standing here idle all day?’ They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard.’ When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his manager, ‘Call the laborers and give them their pay, beginning with the last and then going to the first.’ When those hired about five o’clock came, each of them received the usual daily wage. Now when the first came, they thought they would receive more; but each of them also received the usual daily wage. And when they received it, they grumbled against the landowner, saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ But he replied to one of them, ‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?’ So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”
The “for” at the beginning of the passage tells us that Jesus is trying to explain something with his parable. And by starting his last sentence with “so,” Jesus is reminding us again what exactly he’s trying to say:
“…many who are first will be last, and the last will be first. For….” [insert parable here] “So the last will be first and the first will be last.”
Structurally, Matthew is telling us exactly what’s going on: through the story, Jesus is trying to explain his first/last-last/first riddle, the one we never really talked about in my childhood church community.
Unfortunately, one problem with parables is that they’re also essentially riddles. Explaining a riddle with another riddle doesn’t necessarily lead to clarity. Frankly, it seems a bit like cheating. But Jesus did what he did, and our role today is to do our best to figure it out.
We can draw a variety of lessons from the parable: be content, wait patiently for God’s call, and know that God is generous. I’m sure you can think of some others. But while all of those are good lessons, none of them really seems like an answer to the larger riddle. Maybe there is no answer. Or maybe we’re trying too hard.
In fact, I would suggest “trying too hard” is exactly it. Earlier I worried about how all my trying to be humble would mess up my reward for humility. How much humility is enough, and how much more humble than everyone else do I need to try to be? Therein lies our solution. When I’m trying to be humble, where is my focus? Is it on my work? Is it on God? Is it on helping others? No, it’s on me. Not only is it on me, but it sets me up in a competitive mode: I need to beat everyone else at humility. Because I want the best reward, I will make myself into the most humble person in the history of planet Earth!
I think what’s going on here is that we’re all sitting at a game playing competitively against each other. “He’s rich and will have trouble getting into heaven. But I’m poor, so what do I get?” “That guy didn’t work nearly as hard as I did—I deserve even more than what I agreed to!” Jesus comes along and more or less flips our table. It turns out we didn’t even look at the game’s instructions. We’re all here fighting for power and our assumed rights, but that isn’t the point of the game. The actual game is cooperative. We’re all trying to reach the end, but the only way we get there is together.
“…many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.”
The Kingdom of Heaven isn’t competitive. Yes, Jesus is indeed telling us to be content, to wait on God, and to trust God’s generosity. But the point of life isn’t to be first. Mostly Jesus is saying that your position doesn’t count—we’re all in this together. Did you work hard all day? Good for you, you’ve earned your reward. If someone else worked less but God wants to give them the same reward (which God apparently does), good for them. Don’t worry about your neighbor and whether or not you’re doing better than them. If you’re “winning” and they’re losing, you missed the point of the game. God’s economy is about the generous sharing of plenty. Has God been kind to you? Great! Spread that kindness to those around you. Are you in need? Keep waiting for God, but let your needs be known so your Christian family can help you. In God’s kingdom, no one finishes ahead of anyone else. We’re all in this together. Look to your own relationship with God and be faithful. When you look to your neighbor, don’t compete or compare. Instead, see how you can help.
“So the last will be first and the first will be last.”