The
scholars of the Jesus Seminar suggest that the part of this story that talks
about the 3 slaves of the owner, and then the son of the owner are additions to
the parable. Added, perhaps, by the early church to make sure that the links
between the persecution of Jesus and the prophets before him by the Israelites
are understood by the listener.
That,
of course, is arguable by fans and foes of the Jesus Seminar. What no one
questions is the notion of the chosen people as tenant farmers in a vineyard.
And that is what I would like to explore today.
Our
culture considers tenant farming to be one social notch above migrant workers
as a profession. Rags to riches stories abound telling of the determined young
man or woman, raised by tenant farmers, finding true success through hard work,
sacrifice and rising to a place far beyond their humble beginnings. We clearly
do not equate success with tenant farming.
In
fact, its almost un-American to think that tenant farming is an acceptable way
of life, let alone one to be aspired to. The American dream is to own
something….anything….but most of all your business or land. In fact, ownership has taken an odd turn in
our culture – it is a two edged sword. One edge is ownership as responsibility
– it is a stewardship model. The other is pride of ownership – for evidence of
that, you only need to check out the new truck or furniture ads.
So,
who would want to be a tenant farmer in the vineyards of the Lord ?
Then
we need to consider what it means to work in the vineyards. Not the
metaphorical vineyards, but the real thing. The growing of grapes is a long
term commitment. And vineyards were very important to the people of Jesus’
time.
Growing
grapes is not like…say…..planting onions or corn. Those you plant, weed, and
harvest. Save the seed, plant again. It’s a good year or a bad one, depending
on the weather, but both can be stored against the bad year.
Grapes
grow for many years, and do not bear fruit immediately. Corn is grown, grapes
are tended. The vines are trained, and trimmed. The leaves are watched for
signs of fungus infection and must be pruned immediately when it is seen. The plants must be carefully manured; the new
starts rooted; the old vines removed when they no longer bear. The fruit is gathered
at exactly the right time, and processed into juice and wine. All in all,
tending a vineyard is very labor intensive. It requires what a Buddhist would
recognize as “mindfulness”. Day in and day out, one must be aware.
When
I think of a modern day example of tending the vineyard, the community of
Benedictine sisters I know comes to mind. The work of the group is put before
individual needs and wants, but there always seems to be enough space for
individuals. Many of the community work outside; in hospitals, nursing homes,
administration, retreat work, teaching. If you remember Sr. Barbara Jean, who
gave a workshop for us a year or two ago; she is an outside contributor to the
work of the monastery. For every one who works “in the world”, there are at
least three who rotate through the laundry, the infirmary, the kitchen, the
gardens – even the forest. Sr. Carol is the monastery forester. And Sr. Wilma,
at 80+ years, puts in the huge monastery garden. This is what I think of when I
think of tenant farmers in the Lord’s vineyard. And these farmers are peaceful,
prayerful and live to a very ripe old age. Indeed, the sisters who work in the
world have a higher rate of illness than those who work at home. And people who
would never dream of being tenant farmers, flock to spend a week at the
monastery; to study, be on retreat, to help harvest the gardens, to be quiet.
The current retreat mistress claims that it takes visitors at least 36 hours to
unwind and approach the pace of monastic life. Mostly, Sr. Lillian says, “you
need to sleep !” I have never slept better, on a worse camp cot, than I do at
the monastery.
But
our lives here are neither the vineyards of Palestine nor the monastery. We
live squarely in the middle of American culture, with its compulsion to own,
control and demand. We may have to work out our own way of reflecting the call
to be tenants on the farm, or just on the earth.
Clearly,
choosing to serve full time in the vineyard is a counter culture choice. It
demands mindfulness, attention to the little things. It boasts of no ownership,
it is dependent on the weather and the intentions of the landlord.
Why
would any red-blooded American reframe their life as a tenant farmer ? Why
would one give up grand notions of taking control of your life, dreaming larger
and larger dreams, aspiring to great wealth; all to labor elbow to elbow with
others of the community, - even this community, - for the fulfillment of the
gospel ?
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