Thursday, March 11, 2010

Truly, the Master Knows What's Best

Recently, I've been hearing a lot about the parable of the prodigal son. I've read it in books (specifically, The Return of the Prodigal Son by Nouwen and Surrender to Love by Benner), heard it in radio dramas (the AIO episode The Prodigal, Jimmy), and I'm sure heard it mentioned in a sermon or two.

Inevitably, hearing the story of the prodigal son leads me to reflect on the parable of the workers in the vineyard. Because I've always identified myself more with the jealous older son, the former parable brings up all the resentment and unfulfilled need for justice (specifically fairness) that lurks inside me. And, without fail, it reminds me of the jealous, "unfairly" treated first shift of workers in the latter parable.

I have an acute sense of "fair" and "unfair" as the world sees it. Right and wrong, black and white. That's how I naturally view the world on most occasions. In the case of what the Master does in His Kingdom, it definitely diverts my attention from the story He wants to craft. I'm overwhelmingly likely to be the one "grumbling against the landowner" because I didn't get more than what I originally agreed to--truthfully, more than what I deserve. (The whole idea of deserving at all was cleverly, creatively, and pretty thoroughly explored by my friend Chandler and since it's mostly a divergence from the actual topic of this post, I thought I'd just mention it as a "for further reading" type of thing.)

As I was discussing the above mentioned book, Surrender to Love with a pastor, I was able to delve a bit deeper into this parable than I ever have before. Two major points stood out to me about the correct response to the wages distributed:

1. The Master's Generosity
He specifically calls out the jealous workers for resenting His generosity. Now, I realize this parable is usually applied to "eleventh hour conversions" and such, but I think it holds a much deeper meaning for everyday life. Many people feel their sinful pasts form a barrier between them and God and how much God will use them. For those of us on the other side of the fence, we see God using those with sinful pasts and are prone to become the jealous workers: "How come God uses them in that way when I've never done xyz and they have?" In truth, we should be able to look upon the Landowner's generosity and say, "My Master is so merciful and so generous," and stand in awe of Him as well as allowing Him to move us toward that same compassionate generosity.

2. The Master's Intimate Knowledge
Something I feel is much more subtly alluded to in this story is how the Landowner knows the workers. He knew that even though the men had only worked for an hour, they'd miss a day's work--not because of laziness, but because no one had hired them--and still, in all probability, needed a day's wages. The Master knew what each needed.

But I believe this call goes much deeper than just trusting that He knows what we need. I think it's a draw for us to admire God's work in others. At it's maturation, it's celebrating others even when we feel we're entitled to what they're celebrating or keenly feel a need for what they're celebrating (such as a thirty-five-year-old single girl celebrating her little sister's marriage or someone who's been on a year-long job hunt celebrating a best friend getting his dream job, etc.).

Perhaps I'm seeing something that's not actually in the passage, but regardless, it's a good reminder of a profound truth: the Master knows what He's doing with each one of us and He's constantly drawing us into His story--for ourselves and for others.