***
There’s a diner nearby that I used to frequent with a friend.
Nearly every time we went, we’d drive past a group of middle-aged men standing on a nearby street corner.
I often wondered, “These guys look like fathers, husbands, and grandfathers. Why are they standing idly in the middle of the day?”
Then it hit me: they’re waiting for work.
It seemed like a strange idea to me, that someone would have wait for work. But it’s an age-old practice, one Jesus himself may have witnessed.
***
In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells a parable about laborers standing idly in a marketplace. I imagine them waiting for work, just like the men I saw on the street corner.
One by one, the landowners pass them by, looking for the strongest, the youngest, the most able-bodied.
As the day progresses, others are chosen. But by 5 o’clock some are still left behind.
Why weren’t they chosen?
Perhaps they were the oldest, the scrawniest, the unskilled, the loser. Still, they showed up looking for work, even if their chances of being picked were slim.
What else were they to do?
They were the lowest rung in society. But like every other human being, they needed to eat. Some were also dads and husbands. They had mouths to feed, children to clothe, a family to provide for.
Imagine the hope they must’ve felt when they saw that generous landowner entering the marketplace a final time. “Will he pick me?” They might’ve wondered.
He picked them all. And he paid everyone equally.
It seems unfair that those who worked all day were paid the same as those who did little. But the landowner’s concern was making sure the sun didn’t set on an empty stomach.
He gave them, in Jesus’ words, “their daily bread.”
***
If we apply this parable to America, who are the people chosen first? Are we among them?
***
And who’s chosen last?
***
This is where the Lord is directing our attention this week: to the weak, the unskilled, the poor.
Those chosen last.
I’m not just referring to those born into cyclical poverty, but also those whose lives have been turned upside down by recent natural disasters.
Entire towns have been incinerated by the wildfires out West. Beach communities have been submerged under water by hurricanes in the South.
Millions around the country remain unemployed, underemployed, or infected by COVID.
While many might’ve been capable of providing for their families before these disasters struck, now they’re dependent upon the generosity of others.
Do we have an obligation to help them? Or, using biblical language, “Are we our brother’s keeper?”
***
***
“Whatever you do to the least of these, my brothers and sisters,” Jesus says, “you do to me.”
This is why the Lord invites us to act like the landowner.
In the morning, he employs the able-bodied, because there’s an inherent dignity to work. Those who can work should work.
But by evening, he makes sure that everyone is given a living wage – even those who did almost nothing – so that no one goes home hungry.
This landowner gives freely from the goodness of his heart.
Shouldn’t we?
****
But what, concretely, can we do? How can we provide for those temporarily in need?
***
Let me offer just a few suggestions:
Some of us have started dining out again. Tip well. There’s a good chance your server has been unemployed – or underemployed – for the last few months.
A few extra dollars may go a long away.
Look through your wardrobe. After six months of quarantine, we may have some extra clothing that can be donated. Remember, some families just lost everything.
Teach your children and grandchildren about the importance of service. Take them to a soup kitchen; allow them to interact with the less fortunate. It may broaden their perspective.
Young people are the leaders of tomorrow.
And it may be a little too early to start thinking about the holidays, but when you do, earmark extra for the poor. Give them their daily bread.
***
“For whatever you do to these, the least of my brothers and sisters,” Jesus says, “you do to me.”
