A Special Kind of Blindness

20/9/26

A Special Kind of Blindness.

The folk who compile our lectionary try to offer a common theme between the readings. It’s not always obvious, but it can be discerned with some time, effort and patience.

The common thread in today’s readings could be titled ‘a special kind of blindness.’

Let’s start with the gospel, the parable of the generous employer.

Various people are hired at different times of the day to go and work in the vineyard. There are some that sign on at the crack of dawn whilst others drift in at various times throughout the day.

All are given the understanding that they will be paid a full day’s wages.

The working day comes to a close and the viticulturists, wine makers and bottlers all line up to get paid.

First, those who have only worked a few hours. As agreed, they are paid a full day's wages. So when those who got out of bed with the sparrows come along, they expect significantly more. But not so. They are paid what was agreed. A full day’s wages. Exactly the same as their counterparts who only worked a few hours.

Understandably, they whinge to Benno Seppelt, the owner of the vineyard, who asks them, politely mind, to go back and read their fair work agreement contract.

They grumble because they have fallen into the trap of comparison. They are comparing themselves and the long day they have worked with the 'Jenny and Johnny come latelys'. And at one level I completely understand their rumblings and rumination, but comparing yourself to someone else is not healthy. This is because you can become so fixated on someone else, their good bits and bad bits, that you are distracted from taking a good, honest look at your own bad bits and good bits.

The grumpy labourers are so antsy about their fellow workers that they have forgotten all the remarkable work they have accomplished. They fail to celebrate and rejoice in the things they have achieved in the vineyard on the Northern slopes of Coonawarra.  It’s a very subtle form of spiritual blindness, not easily spotted, but very potent.

So what’s the link or theme with these disgruntled cellar hands and our friends in the Old Testament lesson?

First, the Israelites could cheerfully be labelled as a pack of old whinge-bags. Whilst trekking through the wilderness, they complain about the lack of water, the quality of the water, the biting snakes, the length of time Moses goes up the mountain, the lack of bread and the lack of meat.

So there is a really good homily linking the readings, about the temptation of whinging and how infectious it can be.

But there’s another theme in both readings. The blindness of both groups of people. Time and their new standard of living have blinded the Israelites to all the miraculous things God has done in the past to enable their escape from slavery. And day by day, they always have the pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night. God in fact has not abandoned them, but all the time is leading them on to the promised land. Moses might be fallible, but he does not give up on them. He does not phone the Bishop, type a quick letter of resignation, take his long service leave and annual leave and disappear into the mists of blissful retirement at Miners Rest.

Similarly, by casting aspersions on their boss, the whinging workers in the vineyard have forgotten how blessed they were to have a full day's work and full day's pay.

Both groups fail to see.

There’s another bit of blindness right at the end of the first lesson.

God provides quails… for the Israelites to eat. Yum Yum. But also some bread.

“In the morning there on the surface of the wilderness was a fine flaky substance, as fine as frost on the ground.  When the Israelites saw it, they said to one another, “What is it?” For they did not know what it was. Moses said to them, “It is the bread that the Lord has given you to eat.’

They fail to see what it is right before them. The bread God gives them; and here we have one of the very first references to God giving bread for the nourishment of his people. There will be more, of course, culminating in the bread of life that we receive from the altar at the Eucharist. And there are times when it becomes so familiar that we forget what it is and who it is that we receive. This is my body. Our Lord always chose his words very carefully, and he means what he says. This is my body… this is my blood.

The takeaway this morning is about spiritual blindness. By comparing ourselves to others, we cannot see the marvellous gifts God has given us. We fail to see who it is that is in our hands. We fail to see how gifted and blessed we are and all we have achieved in Our Lord’s vineyard.

Others can see how special we are. God sees how exquisitely remarkable and miraculous we are. And if they can so easily see those sparkling gifts in our very own selves … why can’t I?

Posted in Home Page.