The Good News of a Great Deal

Deacon Douglas McManaman

In the parable of the two sons, the one agrees to work in the vineyard but chooses not to in the end, the other refuses to do so but in time chooses to do as his father asked. The meaning of the parable hinges on the answer to the question: What is the will of the father of the two sons? On the surface, the answer is that they work in the vineyard. But what does that mean exactly? Such work is carried out for the sake of making wine, and according to Psalm 104, God made wine to cheer the heart of man. Hence, wine is a symbol of joy. At the wedding feast of Cana, they ran out of wine, which is a borderline disaster for a Jewish wedding. Jesus’ first miracle was to rectify that situation, which says a great deal about Jesus’ attitude towards throwing a good party. In fact, one of the parables compares the kingdom of God to a king who prepares a wedding banquet for his son, a feast of rich foods and the finest wine. Heaven is going to be one large eternal party, and everyone is invited to feast on rich foods and choice wines (Is 25, 6). But as you know from the parable, not everyone accepts the invitation. Most of the invited have what in their minds amounts to more important matters, business, farming, etc, not necessarily evil things, but on the contrary, the pursuit of goods; they are just not interested in the invitation to the banquet. So the servants were ordered to go out into the streets and to gather all they found, bad and good alike, and the hall was filled with guests. 

This world can be divided into two groups: those who accept the invitation, and those who do not but who are set on managing their own lives. In the first century, the religious leaders, the Pharisees and the Sadducees, represent the son who said yes but did not go to work in the vineyard, while the tax collectors, prostitutes, the rejects, the liturgically unclean, represent the son who at first refused but then went to work. But what do tax collectors and prostitutes have to do with wine production? They accepted the invitation to the joyful celebration. In other words, they believed Jesus. And that is precisely the will of the father; for Jesus himself said it: “For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who sees the Son and believes in him may have eternal life, and I shall raise him on the last day” (Jn 6, 40).

The tax collectors, prostitutes, the outcasts, etc., believed in him. But what did Jesus do that required so much faith? The straightforward answer is that he forgave sins. If you recall the paralytic who was lowered through the roof on a stretcher (Mk 2, 1-12). Jesus said to him: “Child, your sins are forgiven”. But the scribes reacted, saying: “He is blaspheming. Who but God alone can forgive sins?” He then went on to heal the paralytic, which was the evidence that his sins were indeed forgiven, because in the minds of the Jews, sickness, poverty, blindness, paralysis, etc., were signs that a person was forsaken by God and paying either for his own sins or the sins of his ancestors.  

What did the paralytic do to deserve paralysis? Nothing, of course, just as the blind man did nothing to deserve his blindness (Jn 9, 1-4). But what did the paralytic do to deserve the forgiveness of sins? Nothing. What did the woman caught in adultery do to merit forgiveness? Nothing. What did Lazarus or the 12 year old girl do to merit being raised from the dead. Nothing at all. This was all pure gift, and when someone receives an undeserved gift of extremely high value, the result is joy, symbolized by wine, which is produced in a vineyard. 

What all this points to is the utter generosity of divine grace. Christ’s death and resurrection is our redemption, our reconciliation with God the Father. Our debt has been cancelled. Why? Not on account of anything we did. The only requirement on our part is a trusting faith. Jesus said: “Whoever believes in me believes not only in me but also in the one who sent me, and whoever sees me sees the one who sent me. I came into the world as light, so that everyone who believes in me might not remain in darkness” (Jn 12, 44-46).

The good news of the gospel does not bring darkness; it brings light. Imagine committing a very serious felony, and you’ve been charged, and you are most certainly going to be convicted and sent to prison for the rest of your life, because you cannot by any means pay the debt that your crime has created. And you’ve been waiting a long time behind bars for your trial to begin. Then one day you receive a visit from the Prosecutor. All charges have been dropped. The prison bars are opened. You are free to go.  And somehow, in a way that you cannot yet understand, the harm your crime caused others has been transformed such that your victims come out victorious, fully restored and of radiant life. You don’t understand how that’s possible, but you are assured that is the case. Think of the joy that would be yours, after living in deep darkness caused by anxiety and dread. It would very much be comparable to opening a bottle of the best wine and drinking till your hearts content. 

But what about you, who committed the crime? Does your life go on without any transformation? Are you just the same person as before? No, you are changed, because you experience great joy, while those who refuse to work in the vineyard can be compared to a felon who refuses to believe the charges have been dropped and the prison bars have been opened, and so he stays put, sits right there in the prison cell and doesn’t move. He does not celebrate, because he doesn’t believe he’s free; he doesn’t believe he’s won the lottery, for that’s simply too good to be true. In his mind this is a fairytale.

But that’s our situation. To believe that, however, is one of the most difficult things for human beings. In my ministry as a Deacon to the sick, I’ve encountered people who were tormented by anxiety, dread, guilt and fear of judgment for things they did in the past, and it is very hard to convince them that their debt has been cancelled. And then, just when I think they’re beginning to get it, they begin to reveal things about themselves. They assure me with great pride that they will never forgive this person or that person in their past, as long as they live, for something he or she did years and years ago. When I discover this, it feels as if I’ve been punched in the face with a boxing glove. It’s the parable of the unforgiving debtor all over again. I just finished assuring you that this debt hanging over your head, that has been causing you dreadful worry and fear of judgment, has been cancelled, that the prison bars have been opened and that you just won the lottery, and yet you are now telling me that you are going to keep this relative of yours forever in his or her own prison of guilt and regret, without end, for something he did in a moment of weakness when he was was barely a teenager? Is that what I’m hearing? 

And that is precisely why they experience dread and worry in the first place, for they know subconsciously that the amount we measure out will be the amount we receive. How often has Jesus implied that unless we forgive, we won’t be forgiven? And to persist in such unforgiveness means that such a person doesn’t really believe in the good news of his own salvation.

Finally, consider the woman in Simon’s house.  Jesus says to Simon: 

Two people were in debt to a certain creditor; one owed five hundred days’ wages and the other owed fifty. Since they were unable to repay the debt, he forgave it for both. Which of them will love him more?” 

Simon said in reply, “The one, I suppose, whose larger debt was forgiven.” He said to him, “You have judged rightly.” Then he turned to the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? When I entered your house, you did not give me water for my feet, but she has bathed them with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but she has not ceased kissing my feet since the time I entered. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she anointed my feet with ointment. So I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven; hence, she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.” He said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.”

The others at table said to themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?” But he said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.” 

Notice the order: her sins have been forgiven, hence, she has shown great love. It was not her good acts that saved her, but her faith in his forgiveness, which was followed by love. That is the good news of the gospel in a nutshell. We very often put the cart before the horse by thinking that forgiveness results from the decision to reform our lives, to get our act together. This is false. She loved much because she was forgiven much, and she believed it. The greatest winners in the end were the greatest losers to begin with. Some of us might remember as children getting ready to play baseball, or soccer, or football with neighborhood friends; the two captains would each take turns picking a player, one at a time, to form two teams in the end, and they’d always pick the best players first, leaving the worst players to be chosen last. The strange thing about Jesus is that he picks losers first, not winners, the least, the last, the lost, and it is those who have the privilege of playing on the side that will enjoy an eternal victory.