I Love to Work

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling Cathedral Church of St. Paul

Exodus 16: 2-15 Philippians 1: 21-20 Matthew 20: 1-16

I have a confession to make. I love to work. I always have, I do right now, and I imagine I will until the day I die. And I am well aware that many people are not like me. Some of you may also like to work but are ready for a break, re-direction, or a change of venue. Or maybe you’re looking for work, and are frustrated with the lack of opportunities available to you. Perhaps you hate work, and would prefer to be a couch potato, or a well-kept man at home. The bottom line, however, is that we are all working, all the time, whether we’re paid for it or not. In fact, we work every day just to stay alive.

Over the course of my lifetime, my work has taken on many faces and gone through various transitions. For starters, in elementary school, I worked hard to earn my mother’s love. I raked the leaves on our yard on my own without being asked; I worked hard in school, and I followed the rules. Later, in middle school, I became a candy-striper, volunteering my time in the hospital, offering reading materials and snacks to patients. I liked their appreciation, and I enjoyed wearing a uniform that identified who I was. Funny, today, I’m still wearing a uniform.

In high school, my work ethic continued despite changes in my location. Before my junior year, my family had moved from the deep south into the north, and I discovered a whole new culture. My work became very different. I was the campaign manager for the president of our student government. I lobbied for a smoking lounge in our high school. I put on a cheerleading uniform, field hockey, basketball, and softball jerseys; and I stopped working so hard in school. I took on unhealthy habits because I wanted to fit in with the “cool kids” and I was angry with my parents. Truth be told, the culture became more important to me than my faith or my family.

As a teenager, I also began to work for money; and because I love to work, I did. At first, I was a waitress in Lord and Taylor’s tea room, offering small bite-sized sandwiches to customers who wanted a break from their shopping. Later, I was one of the cooks at the Howard Johnson’s on I-95. Fish fry Friday’s were particularly busy at work, and so I loved them. While my best friend worked as the glamorous hostess who seated people, I liked being out of sight in the kitchen. I still had a uniform: a white apron, a hairnet, and fingers that were caked with batter.

Aside from work, I also love food, and so perhaps you have begun to see a pattern here. In college, I immediately got a job at Brigham’s Ice Cream, serving candy, because at that time, women weren’t allowed to scoop ice cream. I also had a work study job, which was working in the kitchen at breakfast in the dining hall. When my grades began to slip, I was encouraged to stop working for money and put more work into my studies; and so, sadly, I did.

Upon graduation I couldn’t wait to start working again: first, at a summer camp program, for inner city kids and then on to more permanent work here at Filene’s in Boston. I did a lot of grunt work, putting clothes on hangers, cleaning up after customers, and responding to their requests. When I switched to banking, thinking it would be kinder and gentler, I did a lot of the same work, exchanging the sale of clothing for the laundering of money.  And then I became a parent: two babies within two years time. Like I said, I continued my work of putting clothes on hangers, cleaning up after people, and responding to a lot of requests. In my opinion, however, there is no harder work than being a parent; and no greater joy.

Before seminary, I helped create affordable housing and spent a year working in a hospital as a chaplain, which was intense, challenging, and wonderful at the same time. After seminary, I couldn’t wait to get back to work. I thought work in the church might be different. You know, kinder and gentler. No complaints or grumbling. No hanging of clothes, lots of people helping to clean up, and although I knew there would be plenty of requests, I thought they wouldn’t come to me, but to God. And so upon graduation, I couldn’t wait to put on my new uniform, and start working in the vineyard of God.

Human life, despite our diversity, is often similar, no matter where we live, or work, or study, or have our being. God’s vineyard, despite our location in time or place, seems to have similar workers. The Israelites complained when they worked as slaves in Egypt, and then complained again when Moses led them to freedom. When they grumbled that bread wasn’t enough for their daily food, God gave them meat. Comparing themselves to other laborers in the vineyard, some workers grumbled against the landowner, despite their original covenant with him. With envy, they compared themselves to their fellow human laborers rather than being grateful for what they had. Did they not have enough? Or did they just want less for their neighbor? And more for themselves?

In a book entitled Extraordinary Relationships, a New Way of Thinking about Human Relationships, Dr. Roberta Gilbert wrote, “Places of work, like families, also go through periods of unusual stress, which tend to cause relationship patterns and postures to be more in evidence than usual. Periods of unusual stress might include a transitional time around changing of leaders, a period of economic change, or a company reorganization. At these times, it is more difficult for each individual to stay on course in the organization; that is, it becomes harder to stay out of triangles or out of polarized positions with or against factions that develop. But a goal during (these times) is to retain competent (work), by working for emotional calm, and by staying in emotionally neutral contact with everyone in the system, regardless of their positions or factions.”

This was no less true for the Israelites fleeing Egypt, or for the people following Jesus, than it is today in our world, in our country, and here in our Church. We are all laborers, and yet we are often tempted to be pulled into critical factions, which grumble and complain, rather than becoming more generous and productive workers. Jesus is fond of telling parables to make certain points; and a friend of mine argues that this parable is a bad one. She claims that because we get so caught up in the unfairness of the landowner, we miss the generosity of God.

Jesus uses parables to subvert, to shatter, and to expand our world views, and to challenge the cultural and religious assumptions we have about life and about people. Jesus encourages us to change. Yes, life is unfair; and yet such inequity may be God’s invitation for us to get to work!

This parable isn’t just about us, however, it’s also about God. Distracted by our anger, we don’t see our God, who is the Good Shepherd and the Liberator, our God who is the generous landowner, our God who provides not only daily bread and meat, but also a Eucharistic feast of His own Body and Blood.

It’s not fair that Jesus died on the cross. It’s not fair that each and every one of us is forgiven our daily sins against God and our neighbor. It’s not fair that the drug-dealers on our steps make more money than our sextons, who routinely clean up after them, risk their own health and safety on our behalf. It’s not fair that pop stars and sports heroes make more money than health care workers and teachers.

Fortunately for us, God’s grace is free and unmerited. We didn’t earn it, and we don’t deserve it. God’s grace is also unexpected. It comes like a thief in the night, or at the end of a parable. God’s grace is new every morning; and in the end, it doesn’t much matter how hard I’ve worked, or how much money I’ve made, or how much suffering I have endured. In the end, all that matters to me is that I have picked up my cross, and followed Jesus.

In today’s culture, we think being idle means hanging out on the streets, looking for excitement, or mischief, or just time to be a couch potato, resting from our day’s labor. In today’s gospel, however, those who were idle were actually looking for work. The market-place was their labour exchange, a place where vineyard owners would go when they were looking for people who wanted to work.

God chooses generosity. God loves us equally; and yet our human needs will vary. In the Caribbean, in Florida, Texas, and most recently in Mexico, the needs of God’s people are greater than other parts of God’s vineyard; and they are no more or less loved than we are. God calls us to work, to help others, to strive by side for the faith of the gospel, however we can, and wherever we can. Shall we stand idle while others suffer? Or will we work together for building up the kingdom of God, no matter the hour in which we are called, and no matter the wages that we are promised.

In the end, and every day until then, I believe that I have been saved by grace, and not by my works. In the end, I also believe that as common laborers in God’s vineyard, we’ll all be paid the same: that is our salvation and eternal life. For me, “living is Christ and dying is gain. If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor.” And if “I depart and be with Christ, that is far better.” For as we proclaim in our burial rite, “happy from now on are those who die in the Lord! So it is, says the Spirit, for they rest from their labors”. Yes, life is unfair, but now and together, let’s celebrate the feast that God has provided for us, and then labour on, for the best is yet to come. Amen.