Matthew 20: 1-16
In December 2010, a joint Harvard University/Google study found that the English language contained over 1,022,000 words and was expanding at a rate of about 8,500 words per year. That may be true, but I know for a fact that the English language does not have enough words to describe the concept of justice.
For example, think about this: the indigenous people of the arctic have 28 different words for "snow." The Inuit language has words to describe snow in almost infinite variety. The words for snow describe its characteristics, its structure, its viscosity, the ability to mold or form it, its reaction to a person's weight to describe just a few.
So, why do the Inuit-Yupik people have so many different words to describe snow? The main reason is that snow is incredibly important in their lives. Survival depends upon their ability to understand the nuances of their environment.
The Inuit-Yupik people are not the only ones. Skiers it seems to me have at least ten words to describe snow. There is powder, deep powder, champagne powder, packed powder, packed, hard pack, wind pack, crust, breakable crust, corn, slush, crud and mashed potatoes. Why do skiers have so many words for snow? It is important, for example in determining technique, equipment, and whether they even want to go out that day.
All of us non-skiers may thinking, "Who cares?" And those of us who live in southern Texas may care less the various names for snow. Rain freezes and turns white. It just doesn't matter. We only need one word for snow.
What's the point of all this talk about snow? Simple, it seems to suggest an important point; the more important a concept it is the more words we will have to describe it. That's why I think there should be more words to describe justice. And why do I know that our English vocabulary is lacking, look at our gospel.
In the parable told in this week's gospel text, Jesus provides an ironic glimpse, an allegory of the difference between God's designs and human desires. Jesus' parable opens a tiny portal of light into the Divine as Jesus incarnates the genuine kingdom of God --- the kingdom of heaven --- by engaging us in his story.
The landowner's generosity is bestowed on these last-hired laborers for a reason known only to him. He does not explain or apologize for the accounting system that lavishes the same wage on everyone hired, regardless of the amount of time logged on the job. The only response the landowner has to the disgruntled first-hired workers is "Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me?"
In the Kingdom of God, isn't God allowed to do what God chooses with what belongs to God? It's true -- sometimes. Sometimes we are in charge, it's our responsibility, and the buck stops squarely in front of us. And although we may grump and grouse about those times, most of us kind of like knowing that we are in control of what is going on and what is coming up next. In fact, we like it so much that we tend to try to take over the reins of control when we are clearly no longer qualified to be running the show. We are constantly tempted to "play God."
So at first glance, our gospel is reminding us that God will not be trivialized down to human-sized aspirations. God will not be domesticated to our fads and fancies. God has purposes and ways that are far beyond us and our reckonings. But that seems obvious, even though we don't always act it. But there is something else in our gospel, besides spirituality 101.
Jesus in this parable is expanding our language for justice. First, justice includes a word we do not often associate with justice --- the word "covet." The parable of the laborers in the vineyard is about the 9th and 10th of the Ten Commandments. While "do not covet" may not seem the most obvious word choices to describe justice, coveting lies at the heart of this parable in a couple of ways.
We covet what God chooses to give to others. And in a relationship covetousness is a problem. The point here isn't necessarily that other folks receive blessings from God that we don't -- that they get more or better or lovelier gifts from God. The problem is that they get the same as us; and they don't deserve it, do they? They are less worthy, or later arrivals, or just plain worse sinners. They don't deserve the same as we get, do they? Not nothing maybe, but certainly not the same. We have a tendency, as the parable aptly illustrates, to covet and to be resentful of what others receive from God.
Second, the additional word to describe justice are actually two words "first" and "last." Notice the flow of the parable as the workers are compensated for their labors: 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. 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.'"
The last are literally first in that they are paid first. And the first, who have worked the longest, must also wait the longest to get theirs. But notice as well that the first who are now last do not receive nothing or less, they receive the same, as the laborers themselves say, "you have made them equal to us...." So perhaps it should be said that the last shall be first, and the first shall receive justice.
This parable expands our narrow understanding --- our narrow vocabulary of justice --- reminding us that although we are all equal recipients of God's gifts, we are often covetous, jealous and twisted as to first and last when God's gifts of forgiveness and life are given to others in equal measure.
Why do we need to expand our vocabulary of justice? Just like the Inuit people we live in an environment --- a world that has definitions of justice --- but definitions that are far from the Kingdom of God. If you don't believe me think about what we have come to associate with justice. Justice is whatever is of-my-cause or of-my-understanding. Justice is of-my-nation or of-my-experience. Justice is of-my-body or sex or of-my-species. Justice is to be of-my-generation or of-my-race. Justice is of-my-gender or of-my-class.
Today's gospel is a profound reminder that even in the face of all these other things we associate justice, there is one word in God's reign that outstrips all the others. It is a vocabulary word that lives on in full sight of all the ugliness and evil that lurks among the beauty of creation. The greatest word of all, the ultimate mystery of God's sovereign rule, is the amazing "grace" of God. The main reason the Inuit have a variety of words for snow is that it is incredibly important in their lives. Survival depends upon their ability to understand the nuances of their environment. It is the same for us. Survival depends upon our ability to understand and live out "grace" --- God's justice --- in our lives. Amen.

