7UP: Envy

Text: Matthew 20:1-16
Theme: “7UP: Envy” (3rd in a series)
14th Sunday After Pentecost
September 18, 2011
First Presbyterian Church
Denton, Texas
Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

IN THE NAME OF JESUS

1 “For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire workers for his vineyard. 2 He agreed to pay them a denarius[a] for the day and sent them into his vineyard.
3 “About nine in the morning he went out and saw others standing in the marketplace doing nothing. 4 He told them, ‘You also go and work in my vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.’ 5 So they went.
“He went out again about noon and about three in the afternoon and did the same thing. 6 About five in the afternoon he went out and found still others standing around. He asked them, ‘Why have you been standing here all day long doing nothing?’
7 “‘Because no one has hired us,’ they answered.
“He said to them, ‘You also go and work in my vineyard.’
8 “When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his foreman, ‘Call the workers and pay them their wages, beginning with the last ones hired and going on to the first.’
9 “The workers who were hired about five in the afternoon came and each received a denarius. 10 So when those came who were hired first, they expected to receive more. But each one of them also received a denarius. 11 When they received it, they began to grumble against the landowner. 12 ‘These who were hired last worked only one hour,’ they said, ‘and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the work and the heat of the day.’
13 “But he answered one of them, ‘I am not being unfair to you, friend. Didn’t you agree to work for a denarius? 14 Take your pay and go. I want to give the one who was hired last the same as I gave you. 15 Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?’
16 “So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”

He got his start on the Oprah show, and his personality and technique caught the attention of the Oprah-watching public – and that’s quite a few people. I speak, of course, of the famous Dr. Phil McGraw who earned, in 1979, his Doctor of Philosophy degree in Clinical Psychology right here in Denton at the University of North Texas. All across the fruited plain, people were entertained with his approach to tackling the problems folks faced – interpersonal or otherwise. He was and is, as they say, “Texas-direct.” He “shoots from the hip”. He was and is blunt with people almost to the point of being mean.

Another psychotherapist was once asked why Dr. Phil, with his “in your face” approach, could garner such a big audience. Certainly, the connection with Oprah helped, but, said the psychotherapist, “People are ready to be told the truth about themselves, even when it hurts, because they know that, without getting the truth, they won’t get life.” We might add that even if we don’t like the truth told to us straight, we get a bang out of it when Dr. Phil does it to someone else.

The landowner in the story Jesus told in today’s Gospel comes off sounding a lot like Dr. Phil. Whether they, the workers, worked the entire eight hour shift or only an hour or so, they all agreed to be paid a day’s wages, which seems somewhat bizarre to begin with. It doesn’t seem as though fairness is part of the equation at all. Of course, it never is with grace! When those who worked the longest noticed that those who worked the least got paid the same amount of money, a whole bunch of belly-aching ensued. It’s not fair; it’s not right; it’s not just; it’s plain wrong. The landowner, ala’ Dr. Phil, fires right back: “Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?”

That was a zinger if there ever was one! It had to hurt those who heard it. Envy was pulled right out into the light of day for everyone to see. Here were these day laborers, coming early to the party and forming something along the lines of a union, demanding their fair share. In the process, their envy is exposed. Envy can hide behind even our most noble purposes.

Envy is one of the seven deadly sins. It’s today’s topic in this series I’ve dubbed “7UP: A ‘Refreshing’ Look at The Seven Deadly Sins.” So lets cut to the chase: Dictionary.com defines envy as ”a feeling of discontent or covetousness with regard to another's advantages, success, possessions, etc. “

If that’s the case, envy is all but in the air we breathe. It’s like a spiritual anthrax spore that pummels our existence with time-released poison. To illustrate a generalized form of envy, let me quote Jack Nicholson’s character, Melvin, in the motion picture As Good As It Gets for which he won an academy award: “Some of us have great stories, pretty stories, that take place at the lakes with boats and friends and noodle salad. (For) a lot of people, that’s their story: Good times! Noodle salad! What makes it so hard is not that you had it bad but that you’re that upset that so many others had it good!”

Envy. There is so much more to talk about. Take politics, for example. Last week I heard one pundit pompously say, envious of Obama voters, “Only the supremely rich and the poorest of the poor have any reason to vote Democrat.” There is envy in terms of race and class and creed. There is surely envy in the upper echelons of academia as professors battle for tenure –- if not the best parking spots. Envy lurks around various skill sets. I remember my piano teacher telling me to never become a professional musician. When I asked her why I shouldn’t, she said “It is because musicians are insanely jealous of one another.” She knew that of which she spoke; she played with Sophie Tucker, Eddie Peabody, and the Dorsey brothers. There is certainly envy in athletics. I have a close friend who is a sitting judge here in Denton County. Like me, he loves golf and he’s very competitive. The trouble is, he makes more putts than I do – and I’m very envious of that. Of course, I hit the tee shot better than he does and I get a sinister delight when he’s out in the woods hunting for his ball while I’m right in the middle of the fairway. That sinister delight is what the German language calls schadenfreude – or a pleasure in someone else’s misfortune. It’s a close – and nasty! -- cousin to envy. You’d think ministers, supposedly the paragons and exemplars of virtue and godly living, know how to handle envy. Baloney, I say! I drive east down University Drive after church nearly every Sunday and I have to wait as the police department actually directs traffic out of Denton Bible Church! You think I’m not envious of that?

There is envy in families. Remember the Hatfields and the McCoy’s! Think of those historical, occasional, and, at times, regular outbreaks of sibling rivalry! Envy prowls around in it all. Envy even meanders into relations with your in-laws. One gentleman said, “I’m happiest when I know I’m making ten dollars more a month than my brother-in-law.” Envy. On it goes. One scholar muses: “Perhaps humanity could have gotten by without envy, but then Eve bore a second son…(and) as Cain found out with Abel, it is very difficult to urge people to be social and fraternal, without also urging them to measure themselves, to define their self-worth on the basis of others.”

Still, you’d think that if there were a level playing field of some sort envy would cease to exist. With all things being equal, what would there be to envy if we all had the same amount of money, or dressed the same, or lived in similar houses, or all drove Chevy Volts? It might not eliminate envy, but it might take the edge off. Would you agree?

One of the things I learned as I studied the history of Christian thought on envy is that some of the earliest wrestlings with our topic came from a surprising place: Christian monasteries. Think of those monks in the middle ages, having taken a vow of poverty, who lived in something of a commune. They wore the same habit and ate the same food. Brother Joe had no more or no less of the accessories of life as did Brother John! They worshipped the same God at the same hours of the day; they said the same prayers and sang the same songs. They slept on identical beds with no thought of what their individualistic “sleep number” might be.

As it turns out, however, with all things being equal, it was a hotbed for envy. It was inevitable. In the midst of all that equality, envy became a way to grope for individual distinction. When envy is quietly going around doing its work, pride stands back and nods its head.

There’s more to this fascinating sin of envy. Among other things, it’s lodged in The Decalogue, the Ten Commandments. “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s this, that, or the other thing,” we read in no uncertain terms. Furthermore, we don’t need a legislative jobs bill to be employed by envy. If ever there was an equal-opportunity employer with a “Help Wanted” sign hung on the front door, it is envy. Envy, to go yet further, has no regard for whether you’re male or female. Men envy what men have or are and women appear to do the same. As another scholar suggested, envy “… begins in the showers after the junior high basketball game.”

With all due respect to the “Mean Green” of the University of North Texas, have you ever heard the expression “green with envy”? The phrase may be Shakespearean. In Merchant of Venice, the character Portia speaks of “green-eyed jealousy.” Whatever the case, it suggests that there is a kind of sickness to envy. Some sins make other people ill, but envy upsets the equilibrium of its host. It seems to be its own punishment. When we envy someone else, we diminish ourselves. When we envy, we are, to use a phrase, “shooting ourselves in the foot.” When it is all said and done, envy ends up being a kind of subtle, deep, quiet, perhaps even pervasive sadness. No wonder that St. Thomas Aquinas described envy as a mode of sadness.

In later messages, I’ll talk about the deadly sins of gluttony and lust. Conceivably, one can enjoy gluttony for a time. A few weeks back, we even cheered it on as one diner sought to set the record for the most Hell Burgers consumed in one sitting at Rooster’s Roadhouse Restaurant in Denton. Lust might carry its momentary pleasure. But what satisfaction do you get from envy? Can you think of any?

“Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?” asked a queen of Disney movie fame. Envy, despite its quiet, subtle ways, will not rest until you conclude that you are the fairest of them all. Of course, that leads to a life of great disappointment. See what I’m getting at?

Singer/Song-writer Howard Jones, perhaps unknowingly, captures the ultimate disappointment in envy:

You can look at the menu, but you just can't eat
You can feel the cushion, but you can't have a seat
You can dip your foot in the pool, but you can't have a swim
You can feel the punishment, but you can't commit the sin.
You can build a mansion, but you just can't live in it
You're the fastest runner but you're not allowed to win
Some break the rules, and live to count the cost
The insecurity is the thing that won't get lost.
You can see the summit but you can't reach it
Its the last piece of the puzzle but you just can't make it fit
Doctor says you're cured but you still feel the pain
Aspirations in the clouds but your hopes go down the drain.

In 1 Corinthians 13, St. Paul declares that love does not envy. Do you think he would have written that if he didn’t think it was a problem in the church? When he speaks of love that does not envy, he does not speak of a self-seeking love but a self-giving love.

Envy, which is one of the most natural realities in our fallen world, can be exposed, refreshingly forgiven, and actually transformed. “By what?” you ask. By Christ’s love for us, I say.

And this love, which is not about equality or fairness, is all about grace.
This is what you and I, by the power of God’s Holy Spirit, are trying to proclaim and share every Sunday and every day and in all kinds of ways here at First Presbyterian Church: the grace of God that has come to us in Jesus Christ.
My friends, that neighbor that we are to love as we are to love ourselves can also be the neighbor that we envy for whatever reason it might be. But God is also the God of that neighbor, and that neighbor shares so many more things in common with us than the envy which drives us apart.

That grace and love of God is not proclaimed on CNN or ESPN. It takes the church and the church’s people to do that. When that proclamation is at its best – that is, when that message is empowered and blessed by the Spirit of God, we should not be surprised to see at least two things happen: disappointment will decrease and joy will increase. How does that sound?

Amen.