25th Sunday of Ordinary Time: Just and Fair

I remember reading about a man named Dutch Schultz, a mobster during the prohibition era. The son of poor Jewish immigrants, he found himself on the wrong side of the law at an early age. From there things got worse. Through a mixture of audacity and brutality, including murder, he worked his way up to the top as a prominent mob leader.[1]

Eventually, he died as he lived, in a hail of bullets, as he emerged from a restaurant on October 23, 1935. But before he expired, he was taken to a hospital where a priest, Father Cornelius McInerney, came to him and explained the tenants of the Christian faith. Dutch Schultz repented of his sins and asked to be baptized. Father McInerney baptized him immediately and soon after he died.[2]

Only he and God know of the genuineness of his repentance, but Catholic teaching, based on the repentant criminal crucified next to Jesus[3], holds that anyone who dies immediately after baptism goes straight to heaven. As you can imagine, instead of joy from the faithful, that a sinner had been saved, there was a public outcry. People were outraged that a man who had spent his life in crime, a murderer, should go immediately to heaven while they had to continue grinding through a life of sacrifice, as our faith demands. It seemed totally unfair and caused many to question the justice of God.[4]

In light of today’s Gospel, as well as thinking about Dutch Schultz and the priest, I’m drawn to consider a particular Dutch priest. Father Henri Nouwen, who died in 1996, once said that whenever we face our losses—large or small, real or imagined—we have only two options: resentment or gratitude. Just like those who grumbled to the owner of the vineyard of today’s Gospel, the first option is tempting. Father Nouwen wrote: “When we are hit by one loss after another, it’s very easy to become disillusioned, angry, bitter, and increasingly resentful. The older we become, the greater the temptation to say: ‘Life has cheated me. There is no future for me, nothing to hope for. The only thing to do is to defend the little I have left, so that I won't lose it all’”. The fact is, resentment can be one of the most destructive forces in our lives.[5]

It's easy to relate to the grumblers in today’s Gospel. Everyone of us has been short-changed at some point. Maybe it’s our sibling who was rewarded more or treated better. Maybe it’s the person at work who receives preferential treatment from the boss. Maybe it’s the reading a deceased family member’s will, where awkwardly, you were not given an equal share.

Even more, we’ve all heard testimonies of people who said they were not given a fair shake because they’re a person of color. At same time, we’ve also heard people say that despite being best suited for a particular job, they were not given the opportunity because affirmative action required that a person of color be selected. There is no shortage of ways in which life seems to be unfair.

For sure, we must aspire for a more just society, one that more closely reflects the Kingdom of Heaven, but even then, not all things will be parceled out entirely according what any one of us regards as fair. And even if all people desire fairness and justice, we will never all agree on what qualifies as fair and just. 

We might wonder why Jesus told this parable to his disciples and furthermore, what this parable would have meant to early Christians. As Jesus befriended those who were despised within his society, but also as his movement, comprised originally of Jews, began to include godless pagans, undoubtedly it challenged his followers, who saw these outsiders taking the easy route to being children of God and to salvation—it’s unfair!

Indeed, I believe Jesus told this parable in order to raise our eyes above mere worldly justice, to something higher: God’s distribution of grace, afforded to all, regardless of whether you’ve succeeded as living a holy and virtuous life or instead, miss the mark over and over again, while some small part deep within desires to truly follow Jesus.

On some level, this altar is the great equalizer. From it, each of us gets the same gift, paid for by Jesus’ Precious Blood, and freely given to us in order to bring about the same good effect for each of us: life with God in heaven. Again, what God gives is equal distribution, but what we receive—this generous and grace-filled gift—is up to us. It’s contingent upon us being open to what He gives and desiring to be transformed by it.

I suspect that the more do that, the less that we will give harbor to the destructive seed of resentment; the more we will see the causes for gratitude, the blessings poured over us; the more we will be truer agents of a just and fair world.

[1] Edward T. Dowling, SJ; Have You Heard the Good News: Reflections on the Sunday Gospels, Cycle A

[2] Ibid.

[3] Luke 23

[4] Ibid.

[5] Robert P. Waznak, SS; Lift Up Your Hearts: Homilies for the A Cycle