PENTECOST| 9.20.2026| “Merit or Mercy?” In the name of the our God who loves without limits, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen. When I was a cook in the Army, I noticed that it didn’t take long for Soldiers to begin cutting corners in the dining facility. The hours were gruesome. The work was exhausting. Most people don’t appreciate the hard work and dedication of Army cooks. We worked holidays while other Soldiers were able to spend time with their families and local festivities. While most Soldiers were spending their weekends resting or having fun, cooks were in the dining facility from sunup to sundown to feed the very people who overlooked their misery. Here is the kicker, in the Military Soldiers with the same rank regardless of the job description, make the same amount of money on the 1st and 15th of the month. So, when my leadership would make us scrub the dining facility floors on the weekends, scraping the grease from every grout line in the kitchen, I would become angry because I knew another private first class on base was in their dorm room playing Xbox after eating the food that I helped cook. Only for them to be dismissive of my importance. Life in the Army just didn’t seem fair to me. How can others make the same amount of money as me if they don’t work near the hours? In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells the disciples a parable that made me reflect on this period of my life that just didn’t seem fair. I found myself challenged by his words as he began teaching the disciples about the reality of the Kingdom of Heaven. I now see God’s mercy in a fresh way. Similarly, the first lesson is about Jonah, who became angry because God was merciful to the people of Nineveh. He felt that they were so wicked that they did not deserve the goodness of God. They were destitute, and undeserving of grace. Jonah said, “this is why I fled to Tarshish at the beginning; for I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and ready to relent from punishing. And now, O Lord, please take my life from me, for it is better for me to die than to live.” Let that sink in. Those words triggered me as I reflected on the first lesson because when I was a pastor of an Assemblies of God congregation in the deep south of South Carolina, we hosted a Back to School bash for our local community. One of the deacons of the church scolded a person of the community who had come to retrieve what we offered for the event. They person and her child showed up a minute before the close of the event. The deacon turned her away. In her Carolina twain, she said, “I am not going to serve her and her child because all she is doing is mooching off of this church. Over my dead body.” In other words, she would rather die, than to serve the people the event agreed to serve. Oh how both Jonah and the disciples need a lesson about the kingdom of heaven. A member from my congregation who refused that her daughter be taught by a school teacher who wore a hijab because of her faith. The deacon who said “over my dead body.” But before I start pointing fingers, this handsome Army chaplain needed to hear the parable too. I didn’t think Jesus was being fair. Through the scripture I can feel God’s breath, teaching me that the Kingdom of Heaven requires humility. It requires one to bow at the mercy of God and to be thankful for the limitless love of God. In the Gospel, Jesus is making the point, whether it be rebels in Nineveh, or a group of grumbling disciples (specifically Peter), that God’s mercy is not ours to ration. We don’t get to decide who deserves it, how much they should receive, or how long they should have to work for it. God sees beyond our calculations of merit and worthiness. His generosity is boundless. So, boundless that sometimes it doesn’t seem fair. Is it fair that a person can live a lifetime doing deeds that hurt others, yet in a single instant of God’s kindness find repentance? For those of us who have been following Christ for a while, serving his church and his people, should we get a little more out of the deal? Think about the person who has spent twenty years in prison. They did what they were accused of doing. They hurt somebody. They lost years of their life because of it. And then one day the gates open. They come home and receive housing assistance. Somebody gives them a job. A church helps them buy clothes. A nonprofit helps them go to college. Their record is expunged. Somebody gives them a second chance. And somewhere, somebody who has never been arrested says, “Wait a minute. I’ve worked my whole life. I stayed out of trouble. Nobody gave me anything.” And there it is. As Jesus challenged in the parable: “Are you envious because I am generous?” Referencing the parable, the landowner doesn’t cheat the laborers. He pays them what they agreed upon. Therefore, the landowner is just in his actions. Jesus is teaching his disciples that God is just in his actions. Also, I think the landowner saw the un-hired laborers with eyes of mercy and compassion. They said, “no one would hire us!” Can you imagine not being able to find a job so that you can pay for basic daily sustenance. Imagine one of the laborers who can’t feed their families because landowners would not hire them, and even if they did, would not pay them fairly. We live in an American culture that says, if you can’t keep up, you get left behind. Less fortunate people often get pushed to the margins of society, excluded from being able to enjoy the common blessings of this life. I’m all for merit. I think people should put their best foot forward, to be their best selves. To work and earn. However, it would be foolish of me to ignore the adlibs of life. When things we cannot control happen to be in control. When Life doesn’t allow for a big house, big family, kids running in the yard chasing cats and dogs, with a white picket fence. We call it the American dream. And that’s a big dream while some are dreaming for a job, food, or diapers. I believe in merit, but I surrender to mercy. I wonder how many of us understand that the Kingdom of Heaven is not of this world. That the Kingdom of America and other earthly kingdoms, operate on a different government and economy. In the Kingdom of Heaven, Christ sits as the head of government. Everyone else must follow. His economy operates on grace, not gold. In the previous chapter, Jesus told the rich young ruler, “it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the Kingdom of God.” Then Peter replied to Jesus, “Look, we have left everything and followed you. What then will we have?” (19:27). That’s almost exactly the attitude of the first-hour workers: We’ve been here longer. What do we get? What was their benefits package for leaving everything behind to follow him? I don’t blame Peter for asking. Jesus had just told the rich young ruler how difficult it was for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven. Peter was shook to his core, questioning the purpose and the benefit of everything they had sacrificed—especially if the disciples were supposed to have a special place in the government of the kingdom of heaven. Maybe a few Senate seats. Surely, somebody was getting a position in Jesus’ cabinet. As mentioned before, the kingdom of Heaven doesn’t have the same government and kingdoms of the earth. So on many occasions to include the gospel reading today, “the first will be last, and the last will be first.” This is the entire point Matthew is making as he shares Jesus’ parable. Let’s reflect on the grace of God in the sacraments. Consider the eucharist. We celebrate and share in the eternal sacrifice of Christ through his body and his blood. We didn’t earn this blessing. We sure didn’t fathom it into existence. As we share in the broken body of Jesus and his blood, as we say in the introduction to the sanctus, “joining our voices with angels and archangels and with all the company of heaven.” When we come to the Lord’s table, we enter the courts of God’s presence joining, worshipping, and singing with all the company of heaven. At the altar rail, there is no first-hour Christian and eleventh-hour Christian. The lifelong Episcopalian kneels beside the newly baptized. The person who prayed the Daily Office all week kneels beside the person who barely prayed. The person with a clean reputation kneels beside the person carrying a past nobody else knows about. And the priest doesn’t walk down the rail saying: You earned more Jesus. You get a little less Jesus. You’ve been here forty years, double portion for you. Everybody opens empty hands. “The Body of Christ, the bread of heaven.” Same Christ. That’s my friends is the parable. That is what the Kingdom of Heaven is like. Not Merit. But Mercy! Amen. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit steepedinfaith.substack.com
