When they received it, they began to grumble against the landowner. ¹² ‘These who were hired last worked only one hour,’ they said, ‘and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the work and the heat of the day.’

¹³ “But he answered one of them, ‘I am not being unfair to you, friend. Didn’t you agree to work for a denarius? ¹⁴ Take your pay and go. I want to give the one who was hired last the same as I gave you. ¹⁵ Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?’ (Matt 20:11-13)

The Parable of the Vineyard is about envy, because the workers hired first could not accept the apparent injustice of those hired last, receiving the same wage. I have always regarded those privileged workers, the ones hired earlier, as selfish capitalists who did not want to share their toys. Indeed Jesus said in this context that it was difficult for a rich man to enter the Reign of God.

But there are other kinds of wealth, some less obvious. In church circles there are always those most respected, who have what I lack, call it “spiritual prestige.”  These are the prophets, the spiritually gifted, the ones who seem inherently grateful for whatever God has give them.  They are Abel, resented by their brother Cain, the Prodigal Son, resented by his older brother, and the later workers in the Vineyard, resented by the full-timers.

I always thought I was Abel or the late worker in the vineyard, because I grew up in moderate poverty, living on scholarships at school and working hard for everything I owned. Poor me!  I have realized there is ingratitude in this attitude, but envy? How can the less privileged be envious, when they are struggling for their own sustenance?   Hmm, I see the point, I am always resentful of those who have more. My room mate in college said I had a “poor mouth,” a concept that defied reason, because, hey, I was poor!

But not by the standards of actual poverty. I never went hungry or was denied medical services or even prevented from extending my graduate education for a Ph.D.! How does that figure as “poverty”?

There is a more subtle poverty, the kind that only church-goers can claim. Because God also privileges some with spiritual gifts and status within God’s Reign.  And, like a spiritual capitalist, I assumed I deserved to be one of those people.  Even as I write this, I experience envy of those with greater status under the Reign of God.  It almost destroyed me at a dark moment in my life.  Without going into detail that I have shared elsewhere [https://wtucker.edublogs.org/2023/01/14/seven-stories-3-the-worst-year-fall-1985-summer-86/], I have always aspired to be spiritually  “greater” than others. .

A more current example is my struggle with contemplation, a practice I have been taught would make me more spiritual, or at least advance me in the Reign of God.  I have struggled to keep silent and meditative for six minutes–too long. I have been impatient with this practice. I couldn’t join the spiritually elite, so I got more and more frustrated as I tried to become contemplative over forty days. Forty days: that is how long Jesus stayed in the wilderness, battling temptation, how long the Israelites wandered in the wilderness before they could enter the Promised Land. It seemed to me I would qualify for a spiritual badge if I reached this goal.

It was no go. I could not do it the way I had been instructed. I did have a little success praying out loud and then meditating, but it still felt like a struggle. I was not up to the standards of those “more spiritual” than I.  I still struggle to meditate, even with some verbal prayer mixed in.

I have been taught jealousy could be a “consuming sin, ” one that pervaded everything I do.  Envy is different from jealousy, but a close cousin.I acted from motives to be greater in the Reign of God, contrary to everything Jesus taught. It consisted of patience, respect for others, and ultimately gratitude– the sense that I have more than enough. You can’t fake these attitudes, although I have tried.

I have also been taught that the first way to subdue a hidden sin is to expose it. So here I am. I hope the admission gives me humility and not pride that I have taken the first step toward becoming “more spiritual.” It is hard to break a lifetime of competitive spirituality.

Perhaps the first step is to acknowledge I have more than enough.  Which  I do. I have been paid my promised wage, and I should be content, without resenting the ones who came later, but received more.

I have all I need, both financially and spiritually. That should be enough, God helping me.