Grace

Scandalous

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

     When I was five, I was drafted to play right field for the Cubs in the T-Shirt division of my local Little League. I wasn’t very good, unless you consider picking dandelions in the outfield the makings of a future hall-of-famer. But it really didn’t matter because the Cubs finished first that year. I was even given a trophy that said so. But later, when I was at my best friend’s house after the season was over, I saw that he had a first place trophy, too. Problem is that he was a Dodger. Yep. Turns out everyone got a first place trophy. It was a real kindergarten scandal.
 

     I’ve since gotten over the ordeal, and it didn’t leave me with any permanent scars. But do you remember the time when you studied really hard for that math test? The one that you aced and everyone else bombed? But since the class did so poorly, the teacher gave a re-take and everyone wound up with the same grade as you. Or, maybe it was that time at work when you were assigned a team project. And you were the one who put in the long hours and carried the load. But when it was all finished, the whole team got the same praise and the same raise. Yeah, I know – it’s not fair. Well, if that’s happened to you, listen to this one. It’s a real doozy.

     You see, there was this farmer who went to town early one morning to hire some workers to pick grapes in his vineyard. Now picking grapes in Palestine is hard work; temperatures during harvest can easily exceed 100°. Making matters worse, a grape harvest is a really hectic time of year since there’s a very narrow window of opportunity between bringing in the harvest and the on-set of bad weather. So, in his haste to get the job done quickly, the farmer went back into town at 9:00 a.m. and hired some more workers. He did the same thing at noon, and then again at 3:00 p.m. Finally, at 5:00 p.m., just an hour before quitting time, he hired even more workers! (It helps living close to town)

     Anyway, at 6:00 p.m., the farmer tells his foreman to call it quits for the day and give everyone their pay, starting with the ones who were hired last. Now, this struck the workers as a bit odd since, usually, pay was handed out on a “first-come, first-served” basis. But, hey, who were they to complain? At least they weren’t getting stiffed. So, they watched curiously as the foreman began to hand out the paychecks.

     Well, the guys who had worked only an hour were paid a denarius, i.e., a day’s wage, or about $64.00 in California these days. And that was an unbelievable wage back then. In fact, that was the same wage paid to a Roman soldier, and it was way more than a common day-laborer would ever expect to get paid, even for an entire day's work!

     Now, I’m thinking that the other laborers watching this thing unfold probably didn't mind too much, either. Well, at least not yet. I mean, they were probably flabbergasted at the owner’s generosity – especially the guys who’d been working there since sunrise. These guys likely ran a few calculations through their heads and thought, "Wow, if the guys who only worked an hour got a whole day’s pay, imagine how much I’m gonna make! I’ll be rich!" But when they got to the cashier, they got the same amount in their check: a measly $64.00. Suffice it to say, the boys were steamed and one of them let the farmer have it.

     But the farmer graciously responded by calling him “friend.” He then asked him three questions. (A very Jewish way of carrying on a conversation in those days) The first was, “Didn’t you agree to work for $64.00 a day?” Yep. Strike one. The next was, “Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money?” Uh-huh. Strike two. And the last, “Are you envious because I’m generous?” Uhhh. Caught looking. Strike three; you’re out. And we’re left thinking, “Hey, that’s just like that Little League story.” Or, “That sounds a lot like everyone getting an “A” on a test when I studied the hardest.” Or, “Reminds me of that raise where everyone got the same increase, even though I was the one who put in all the hard work.” It bothers us. A lot.

     It bothers us because when you’re talking about a Little League game, or a grade on a test, or even the workers in the parable, there’s certain rules that apply: one team really does score more runs than the other; one person really does get more questions right than someone else; and one person really does work longer and harder and deserves more pay. But Jesus isn’t talking about earthly rules, or standards; he’s talking about heavenly matters because that’s how he starts the parable, “For the kingdom of heaven is like….” And therein lies the problem.

     The problem is that even when Jesus tells us point-blank what he’s talking about, sometimes we’re too stuck in our own little world to actually get it. Maybe that’s why Jesus ends the parable with the question: “Or are you envious because I’m generous?” Perhaps the real problem’s not so much with God’s generosity, or even his fairness, but with his grace because it exposes our selfishness in making the kingdom of God all about us.

     Just look at the context of the parable itself. Minutes earlier, Peter had said, “We’ve given up everything to follow you. What will we get?” (Matt. 19:27) And then, no sooner had Jesus finished his story than James’ and John’s mommy comes up to Jesus and says, "In your Kingdom, please let my two sons sit in places of honor next to you, one on your right and the other on your left." (Matt. 20:21) It’s no wonder that three verses later Matthew says that the other disciples (which would have included Matt, too) were “indignant.” Maybe that’s why Jesus concludes his discussion by observing that, “those who are last now will be first then, and those who are first will be last.” (Vs. 16) And that offends us.

     I know that sounds absurd, because we love grace, don’t we? I mean, how could grace possibly be offensive? We sing about grace and call it amazing. We say grace and then eat our meals. We even quote scripture that by grace we’ve been saved. And that’s all well and good, so long as grace remains just a nice word we use in church.

     But what if someone hurts you, or offends you. How do you respond? Do you offer grace and forgiveness, or do you find it absurd that God would actually expect you to let them off the hook? I mean, they hurt you, didn’t they? They don’t deserve grace. Or, what if God blesses someone financially while you’re teetering on the brink of bankruptcy. Are you grateful for their success, or are you bitter that it’s not your own? You see, when we actually encounter pure, unadulterated grace, we sometimes find it offensive. In fact, we hardly have a category for it.

     In the early evening of November 13, 2004, a car-load of bored teenagers decided to find some excitement by breaking into a parked car and stealing stuff, including a credit card. From there, they went to a video store and charged $400.00 worth of DVD’s and video games. They then headed to a grocery store where they bought a 20-pound frozen turkey and then sped off down the highway. About this same time, a 44 year old woman was headed home after having attended her niece’s music recital. When asked about it later, Victoria Ruvolo said that she didn’t remember a car approaching her from the east; didn’t remember a teenage boy hanging out the window; and certainly didn’t remember the 20-pound frozen turkey that came crashing through her windshield.

     The turkey struck her directly in the face, breaking every bone it encountered and left Victoria with absolutely no memory of the event. After 8 hours of surgery, titanium plates in her face, an eye reattached by synthetic film, a wired jaw, and a tracheotomy, Victoria began the excruciating process of rehabilitation. Later, friends and family would explain to Victoria that an 18-year-old boy named Ryan Cushing had thrown the 20-pound frozen turkey through the windshield of her car for absolutely no reason whatsoever.

     After nine agonizing months spent in recovery, Victoria finally had the chance to meet Ryan, face-to-face, in the courtroom. She watched intently as Ryan accepted a plea bargain and then receive the sentence for his crimes: 6-months in jail, five years’ probation, some counseling, and a few hours of community service.

    What? You’re kidding me, right? That’s unbelievable! Is that what our justice system has come to? I mean, who thinks that 6-months in jail even begins to come close to paying for permanently destroying someone else’s face? Well, Victoria Ruvolo does because she had previously asked the court to be lenient on the defendant. And after the sentencing, Ryan crossed the courtroom, hugged Victoria and then bawled like a baby. “I forgive you,” she said. “I want your life to be the best it can be.” Now that’s grace!

     But that’s also offensive and an outrage, isn’t it? Aren’t we just a little disturbed that Ryan’s sentence was only six months in jail, probation, some counseling and a wee bit of community service? Where’s the justice in that? But that’s what happens when we encounter grace unleashed – we hardly know what to do with it.

     You see, the problem’s not with grace; the problem’s with our hearts.

     And Jesus reminds us that we’re foolish if grace offends us, because we’re wholly reliant upon it. Even the first workers in the parable were completely dependent upon the owner to give them a job. If he didn’t hire them, they didn’t work. And if they didn’t work, their family didn’t eat. Worse yet, they had no qualifications – nada, nothing, zero, zilch. But he offered to pay them more than they deserved. In other words, even the ones who worked all day, the ones who we think are the most deserving, were still only there because of the owner’s grace.

     The same’s true for me and the Cubbies. We thought we were the best team in the league. But the truth is, by competitive standards, we were horrible. In fact, as far as I know, not a single one of us made it to the Majors. I mean, we had a hard enough time running the bases in the right direction, much less getting the ball to first base. The only reason any of us got a trophy was because of grace. And no matter how religious or spiritual we think we are, we are what we are because of grace. We are utterly, totally dependent upon grace.

     So, be captivated by God’s grace – he pursued you even when you turned your back on him. Be in awe of God’s grace – he forgave you even though you had nothing to offer. And be saved by God’s grace – he loved you so much that he gave his only son to pay for your sins.

     Scandalous, indeed.

Grace,

Randy

Gossip

Gosssssssip

All kinds of animals, birds, reptiles and sea creatures are being tamed and have been tamed by mankind, but no human being can tame the tongue. It’s a restless evil, full of deadly poison. (James 3:7-8)

Gossip – even the word hisses, doesn’t it? I think Rick Warren defined gossip pretty well: it’s talking about a situation with someone who’s neither a part of the problem nor a part of the solution. Gossip’s everywhere. It’s on our mobile phones, it’s in text messages, and it’s even in our e-mails. But gossip’s not some recent, technological phenomenon – it just gets spread faster. Gossip’s been around since the beginning of time, and the list of its victims is endless.

For instance, toward the end of his political career, Winston Churchill attended an official ceremony at the House of Commons. Seated several rows behind him were two Members of Parliament who began to whisper about the aging Prime Minister. "They say he’s getting senile," said one. “I know,” said the other. "They say he should step aside and leave the running of the nation to more dynamic and capable men." When the ceremony was over, Churchill got up, turned to the men and politely said, "Gentlemen, they also say that he’s deaf!"

The book of Proverbs has a lot to say about the subject. For instance, “A gossip goes around telling secrets, but those who are trustworthy can keep a confidence.” (Proverbs 11:13) “A troublemaker plants seeds of strife; gossip separates the best of friends.” (Proverbs 16:28) Also, “The tongue can bring death or life, and those who love to talk will reap the consequences.” (Proverbs 18:21) “A gossip goes around telling secrets, so don’t hang around with chatterers.” (Proverbs 20:19) And this, “Fire goes out without wood, and quarrels disappear when gossip stops.” (Proverbs 26:20)  These are just a few of Proverbs’ many truths.

Interestingly, the Hebrew language used in Proverbs employs two different words for gossip. The first, רָכִיל, pronounced rä·kēl', means “slanderer,” or “informer.” The second, נִרְגָּן, pronounced nēr·gän', means “murmurer,” “whisperer,” or “backbiter.” But both describe the same person: someone who specializes in saying nothing in such a way that it leaves practically nothing left unsaid. But Proverbs isn’t the only book that addresses gossip. Not by a long-shot.

The book of Psalms has a lot to say about gossip, too. The interesting thing about the Psalms, however, is the choice of words used to describe the tongue: words like, “dagger,” “sword,” “poisonous tip,” “arrows,” and “death and destruction,” to name a few. And the inescapable conclusion, when you read the totality of what the Psalms have to say about the subject, is that the tongue has the power to destroy lives. Problem is, words like “dagger,” and “sword” and “poisonous-tipped arrows” are kind of old school, aren’t they? I mean, who thinks in those terms anymore?

So, what if we used current events to describe the carnage that gossip can cause? For instance, how about, “The tongue is like a suicide bomber who blows himself up in a preschool full of innocent children.” Or maybe, “The tongue is like a kid from the lunatic fringe who walks into a school cafeteria and begins spraying bullets all over the place.” Or how about this? “The tongue is like a sniper who uses a silencer and assassinates from a distance so his victim never knows what hit him.” Is that better? Or has the news of suicide bombings, and the Columbines and S.W.A.T. actions become so commonplace that we’re just numb? God help us if that’s true.

Maybe the reason that God used such vivid imagery is that, frankly, we don’t give a lot of thought to the devastation our tongue can leave in its wake. But if you’ve been its victim, you know first-hand of its destructive effects. One of the lengthier passages on the subject was penned by Jesus’ half-brother, James, where he said:

We can make a large horse go wherever we want by means of a small bit in its mouth. And a small rudder makes a huge ship turn wherever the pilot chooses to go, even though the winds are strong. In the same way, the tongue is a small thing that makes grand speeches.

But a tiny spark can set a great forest on fire. And the tongue is a flame of fire. It is a whole world of wickedness, corrupting your entire body. It can set your whole life on fire, for it is set on fire by hell itself.

People can tame all kinds of animals, birds, reptiles, and fish, but no one can tame the tongue. It is restless and evil, full of deadly poison. Sometimes it praises our Lord and Father, and sometimes it curses those who have been made in the image of God. And so blessing and cursing come pouring out of the same mouth. Surely, my brothers and sisters, this is not right! Does a spring of water bubble out with both fresh water and bitter water? Does a fig tree produce olives, or a grapevine produce figs? No, and you can’t draw fresh water from a salty spring. (James 3:3-12)

Living in Ramona, I’ve seen what fires can do. They cause massive destruction, but are usually started by a very small spark – like sparks from a flare, or even a downed power line. And like a movie trailer for a bad horror flick, James says that the tongue is like a fire – a world of wickedness that corrupts a person by setting their life on fire from hell itself. Ughhhhh.

Sadly, gossip wouldn’t get any traction if it didn’t have an audience. So, if we don’t want to be a part of that audience, how do we recognize a gossip? Well, again, if you’re talking about a situation with someone who’s not a part of the problem or a part of the solution, you’re probably talking with a gossip. But, if that’s a little too vague and you’re still having trouble spotting one, here are a few examples.

The first type is the “Prayer Request” gossip. This is the person who, when prayers are requested, says, “You know, poor Don has been on my heart, lately. I saw him last week. I think he was coming out of that adult video place, the F Street Bookstore? And, I just couldn’t believe my eyes. I mean, his family’s falling apart and he’s hooked on cocaine! I think he could really use our prayers right about now.” Touching.

But prayer is supposed to be a time of building our relationship with God and encouraging others to advance His kingdom. Prayer is neither the time nor the place to share information that others don’t need, or even want to know. God knows, and that’s enough.

The next type is the “Bless Their Heart” gossip. This is the person who has something kind of mean to say, but doesn’t want to appear like they’re actually gossiping. So, they punctuate their comments with, "Bless Their Heart." As in, “You know Bill? Well, his wife left him because he ran up their charge cards behind her back. And then, to make matters worse, I heard he got fired from his job and didn’t even bother to tell her! Bless his heart, he's trying as best he can." Don’t be fooled. Using the phrase, “bless their heart,” is just gossip dressed up in the pretense of “concern.” It’s not some sort of pet, religious phrase that magically justifies sin.

A third type is the “Chit-Chat,” or “News Flash” gossip. This is the person who just loves to talk because … well … they just love to talk. It’s kind of like an occupation for them. So, while some people go to work, these gossips talk for a living. They say stuff like, “Did you hear that Frank’s parents are fighting again?” Or, “Do you know about Joanne? Her marriage is really struggling.” Or, “I hear Shawna is pregnant.” They talk about the neighbors; they talk about the grocery store clerks; they talk about the auto mechanic; they talk, talk, talk, talk, talk … Ahhhh! Even worse, the “News Flash” gossip isn’t particularly concerned about accuracy. They just feel that it’s their duty to inform – regardless of whether it’s true.

Last, but not least, is the more macho, “I’m Just Telling You The Truth” gossip. This is the person who says something like, “I’m just telling you the truth. If they didn’t want anybody to know, they wouldn’t have said anything, right? So, I’m just throwin’ it out there.” But just because something’s true isn’t the same as getting permission to share it with others – it’s still potentially harmful, or hurtful. And if the gossip is sharing the information for the purpose of hurting someone, or tainting their reputation, or simply just to be the first to share some “juicy little morsel,” their motives are bad and they shouldn’t be sharing the information. Period.

Apparently, the church in Ephesus had a problem with gossip, and here’s what Paul had to say: “Don’t let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs.” (Ephesians 4:29) In other words, gossip’s not an option here. Questions like, “What does she need?” or, “Where does he hurt?” or, “How can I help?” should be asked, instead. Then, once answered, words of hope and encouragement can be crafted and shared with that person, rather than whispering words of destruction to the curious about that person. Words should be used to build people up; not tear them down. The point is to talk to them, not about them.

So, instead of sharing Don’s dirty laundry through the facade of a prayer request, imagine actually going to Don, finding out about his needs and then speaking words that will build him up. Or, instead of “bless(ing) his heart,” while leaving his reputation in a smoldering ash heap, how ‘bout going to Bill and offering him hope? And, instead of “just telling the truth” about someone, how ‘bout just giving it a rest?!

Imagine if we actually talked to people instead of about people. Although some say that talk’s cheap, it’s not. The fact is that loose talk can change a life forever – and not necessarily for the good. Unfortunately, there are still those who will believe anything if it’s whispered. But the truth is that if it’s not said, it can’t be spread. It’s that simple.

Yiddish folklore recounts a story about a man who had told so many malicious untruths about his local rabbi that, overcome with remorse, he begged the rabbi for forgiveness. "Rabbi, please tell me how I can make amends." The rabbi replied, "Take two pillows to the public square and cut the pillows open. Then, wave them in the air and come back when you’re done."

Figuring the exercise had something to do with forgiveness, the man sprinted for home, got two pillows and a knife, and rushed back to the square. There, he cut the pillows open and waved them wildly in the air. When he had finished, he raced back to the rabbi. "I did just what you asked, Rabbi!" "Good," the rabbi smiled. "Now, to see how much harm gossip causes, go back to the square...." "And?" the man asked breathlessly. "… and collect all the feathers.”

So, the next time you’re listening to someone talk about a situation and you know they’re neither part of the solution nor part of the problem, “T.H.I.N.K.” before you respond, if at all. At least that’s what Alan Redpath recommends in, A Passion for Preaching. In dealing with a congregation that had problems with gossip, he came up with following acrostic:

“T” – is it True? “H” – is it Helpful? “I” – is it Inspiring? “N” – is it Necessary? “K” – is it Kind?

            I’ll leave you with this – it’s called, Who am I?

I have no respect for justice. I maim without killing. I break hearts and ruin lives. I’m cruel and malicious and gather strength with age. The more I am quoted, the more I’m believed. I flourish at every level of society. My victims are helpless. They cannot protect themselves against me because I have no name and no face. To track me down is impossible. The harder you try, the more elusive I become. I'm nobody's friend. Once I tarnish a reputation, it’s never the same. I topple governments and ruin marriages. I destroy careers and cause heartache and sleepless nights. I wreck churches and separate Christians. I spawn suspicion and generate grief, making innocent people cry on their pillows. Even my name hisses. I am gossip. (Unknown)

            Maybe the better question is, “Who are you?”

Grace,

Randy