A Reflection for the Memorial of Saint Pius X, Pope
Find today’s readings here.
“Are you envious because I am generous?” Mt 20:15
I mistakenly thought I was in for an easy A.
At some point during my sophomore year at Loyola University Chicago, I signed up for “Intro to Roman Catholicism.” I was a theology major, and more than that, I had been Catholic since I had been baptized at St. Mary of the Snows when I was one year old. Surely I would be able to coast through an introduction to my own religious tradition. Besides, I had all of Chicago to explore, friendships to deepen! It wouldn’t be a big deal if I slacked in one class.
There was only one thing standing between me and my visions of academic languor: a Jesuit with nearly half the alphabet after his name. Peter J. Bernardi, S.J., PhD, Fr., was teaching that section of Intro to Roman Catholicism. The students ranged in experience with Catholicism from deep familiarity to truly knowing nothing. It was a difficult task to figure out how to teach a class with that makeup, but Father Bernardi is one of those old school Jesuit professors who holds you to incredibly high standards.
One day in class, while we were discussing the church’s teaching on salvation and sin, Father Bernardi was telling the story of an infamous sinner (it doesn’t matter who, or which sins) who had gone on to convert to Catholicism quite late in life. A student in the front row was incredulous: “Seriously? So all that horrible stuff he did is just forgiven?” She was angry. “I don’t agree with that at all.”
In that moment, the mask slipped. He wasn’t a professor any more. With the same unbridled joy of a child who is told that yes, we are going for ice cream after dinner, he cracked a wide smile, waved his arms around and shouted, “THAT’S THE POINT!”
In the Kingdom of God, even the worst procrastinators that you know can slip in the back door. The least helpful member of a group project shares in the good grade awarded. It was a scandalous message for my classmate, just as it was for a few characters in today’s Gospel.
Jesus tells us another parable to help us understand what the Kingdom of God is like. We hear about a landowner who needs to hire some labor to help in his vineyard. Throughout the day, workers are brought in shifts. When it’s nearly the end of the day, he goes out for even more workers, and finds them waiting:
‘Why do you stand here idle all day?’
They answered, ‘Because no one has hired us.’
He said to them, ‘You too go into my vineyard.’
When the day is done, and it’s time to pay the laborers, everyone is stunned to learn that they’ll all be receiving the same wage.
This is what the kingdom of heaven is like. God is not calculating, measuring our work or our devotedness and dolling out love and grace accordingly. The worker who only deserves a fraction of the pay is given far in excess of that. Moreover, every worker is given a full day’s wage, that is, given enough.
As in any great parable, there is something for everyone to consider. Maybe you identify with the workers who have been waiting around idle throughout the day, waiting for an invitation and beyond grateful when it finally comes. Perhaps you identify with the ones who have worked all day and feel a bit cheated. Or maybe, like me, your ears perk up at the mention of a vineyard and you begin thinking about the wine that will come from all of this labor.
Dianne Bergent, a Scripture scholar and America’s “The Word” columnist in 2005, succinctly explained the theological significance of this scandal:
Divine generosity is always a scandal to people who believe that it should only be granted to those who deserve it. And it is in this conviction that their error is laid bare, for no one deserves the generosity of God. It is a free gift, given to all who will accept it. If we think we deserve it, we will resent those who in our judgment do not. It is arrogant to think that we have earned it; it is selfish to want to hug it to ourselves.
The landowner’s response to the grumbling of the workers is a question for all of us: “Are you envious because I am generous?”
Like the older brother in the parable of the prodigal son, envy blinds us to our own daily wage, our neighbor’s good fortune, the feast happening in the other room. Where are the places in my life where my own envy, or complaining, has robbed me of the joy from celebrating with my loved ones?
And by the way, despite the difficulty of that semester, I signed up for another course with Father Bernardi my senior year: soteriology, the theology of salvation.
