In danger of despising grace at the end

Sermon for Septuagesima

1 Corinthians 9:24-10:5  +  Matthew 20:1-16

The saying goes, Well begun is half done. If you make a good beginning at something, with a good plan and a clear purpose, that’s half the work. And that’s all good and well. But if you fail to finish what you started, then it was all a big waste of time. In our Epistle today, St. Paul spells out the real danger that confronts all Christians, including him, as we run this race: the danger of disqualification, as was the case for thousands of Israelites who began well with Moses, but then allowed themselves to be derailed. It’s not enough just to begin well.

Jesus describes a similar danger in the Gospel. It’s the danger of despising grace in the end, of starting out well in the Christian faith, but eventually coming to hate the God who stands there at the finish line to hand you the prize. The ones who are in the most danger of despising grace in the end are those who have worked the longest and the hardest in God’s kingdom. The first shall be last, and the last first. Let’s learn the lesson Jesus has taught.

Going over the parable once more, The kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. The kingdom of heaven is the Christian Church. What is the Church like? A landowner goes out early in the morning to call workers into His vineyard for the day. He finds some. They agree to work all day till sunset, about an 11 or 12-hour day, for one denarius—the average daily pay for a field worker. That was at the first hour. At about the third hour, the landowner goes out and calls some more workers, and, without specifying an amount, He tells them, “Whatever is right, I will give you,” and they agree. He does the same thing at the sixth hour and again at the ninth hour and finally at the eleventh hour, with only one hour left in the workday. At the end of the day, he orders the workers to be paid, starting with those who were hired last, and He gives one denarius to each. The first workers have been watching all these other workers getting paid a full day’s wage. So when they come up to be paid, they’re sure he’ll pay them more, but he doesn’t. He pays them one denarius, just as they had agreed at the beginning of the day.

Now, the landowner hasn’t short-changed anyone. He’s shown special generosity toward those who worked less than a full day, but he hasn’t given anyone less than he said he would. And yet the first workers were upset. They grumbled against the landowner. How dare he give the same pay to those who had worked less and suffered less under the heat of the sun—in some cases, much less? But He replies to one of them, ‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong. Did you not agree with me for a denarius? Take what is yours and go your way. I wish to give to this last man the same as to you. Is it not lawful for me to do what I wish with my own things? Or is your eye evil because I am good?’

How is this like the kingdom of heaven—like the Church? All the members of the Church, like all the workers in the parable, share certain things in common. All are called by God individually to come into His kingdom on earth, the Church. He goes out personally and finds them and calls them into His vineyard. God is the one who does it, but He does it through means. He does it through the mouths of His ministers. Repent and believe the good news! Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved! That’s the word of the Gospel that goes out. The call goes out to all, and those who believe enter the visible gathering of the Church through Holy Baptism, which takes a person off the streets, as it were, and places him in God’s vineyard, in God’s service, in God’s house.

This is a call of pure grace, because the landowner sees nothing good in the workers He finds, even as He saw nothing good in any of us. On the contrary, He found much evil in us. So out of pure grace, He offered us the blood of His own Son to cleanse us from all our sins. Forgiveness for the sake of Christ is the doorway into the Lord’s vineyard. That and that alone is what made us fit to enter His kingdom. That’s something we have in common with every member of the Christian Church.

Something else all have in common: All who are called by the landowner are expected to work in the vineyard. We’re not called to keep standing around idly, doing nothing, or serving ourselves, serving our own interests, living for this world. All who are called into the kingdom of God are called to work at putting to death the sinful flesh, to practice saying ‘no’ to sin and ‘yes’ to righteousness. Whether a person spends his or her whole life in the kingdom of God, or only the very last part of it, all are called to work, with love toward God and love toward our neighbor.

Finally, all are paid equally at the end of the day. All receive the same, no matter how much they work or how long they work or how much they suffer under the sun. All are given the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost. Equally. Because in God’s vineyard, God’s grace and generosity cannot be earned or deserved by sinners. It could only be earned by the Son of God in the sinner’s place. That’s the grace that’s offered to all.

But the longer and harder you work in the Church, the easier it is to start seeing yourself differently—not as a poor, miserable sinner who has been saved by God’s free favor, but as someone who’s actually a pretty decent person, who has done a lot of good things and suffered plenty of bad things for the sake of the kingdom, as a person who may well confess being a sinner before God, but deep down, doesn’t really mean it.

We can see how this despising of grace happened to the Jewish people. They had worked hard under the Law of Moses. They had suffered much. The Pharisees especially had worked hard at keeping the Law. Then along comes Jesus and calls prostitutes and thieves and swindlers and Romans and Greeks into His kingdom, and offers eternal life to them all, free of charge. You know how the Jews reacted: those who knew that they were sinners received Jesus with joy and thanksgiving. But most of them, led by the Pharisees, hated Jesus, hated the very God who had brought them into His vineyard. “This man receives sinners and eats with them.” They grew to despise His grace.

But, as St. Paul reminds the Corinthians in today’s Epistle, the people of Israel stand as a permanent example for Christians, highlighting the dangers that lie in our path, the pitfalls into which Israel fell, so that we don’t repeat their mistakes.

In the words leading up to our Gospel, Peter asked the question of Jesus, See, we have left all and followed You. Therefore what shall we have? So Jesus said to them, “Assuredly I say to you, that in the regeneration, when the Son of Man sits 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 wife or children or lands, for My name’s sake, shall receive a hundredfold, and inherit eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last first. And then He goes on to tell today’s parable.

In other words, you and all who have worked long and hard and suffered and sacrificed much for My sake will most certainly receive your reward at the end, and it will be far greater than what you gave up. But be careful that you don’t start focusing on how hard you’ve worked and how much you’ve given up, as if you were buying your way into God’s grace, or else you’ll grow to despise grace in the end, which means you’ll grow to despise God. And then He will turn you out of His vineyard, no matter how hard you’ve worked along the way.

Yes, this can happen to any of us, and the danger is greater the longer you’ve spent in the Christian Church. You begin to think, I’ve worked so hard. I’ve given up so much. Will God really give me the same grace as He gives to the believer who spent most of his or her life indulging the sinful flesh, who didn’t have to sacrifice nearly as much, and has only recently come into the Church, maybe even at the end of his or her life? Where’s the justice in that? And that, of course, is the problem. If you want to turn God’s kingdom into a kingdom of justice, a kingdom of Law, a kingdom of wages and works, then you’ve pushed grace out the door, and faith along with it. And Jesus? Why do you need Him if you want God to judge you based on your own deeds?

That’s the danger. Today’s Gospel is the remedy, to pull you back from the brink of self-righteousness and to send you fleeing in faith again to the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. Claim His merits, not your own. Cling to Him, not to yourself. Receive His body and blood in the Sacrament for the forgiveness of sins, not as something you’ve worked hard for, but as His free gift to you, a poor sinner who has been made His child and heir by grace alone, through faith alone, for the sake of Christ alone.

Today’s Epistle is also part of the remedy against the danger of despising grace, both in the negative example of the people of Israel, who fell from grace in the wilderness, and in the positive example of the Apostle Paul, who recognized his own need to discipline his body, to bring it into subjection, lest he himself—the great Apostle to the Gentiles—should become disqualified, lest he himself should grow to despise God’s grace. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.

The season of Lent is coming up, and Christians have traditionally used this season to discipline the body, to bring the flesh into subjection, either by some private form of voluntary fasting, or by extra time spent around God’s Word and the Catechism, or both. You’ve made a good beginning. But you still have to finish the race. Think about what forms of discipline you will use this Lenten season, as a kind of training for running the race of the Christian life. We strive to obtain an imperishable crown. Keep striving! But as you strive, focus, not on yourself and your striving, but on Christ Jesus, the Throne of Grace, whose grace you will never need less, no matter how hard you strive. Amen.