“Last and First”
September 20, 2026
Rev. Rebecca Migliore
Let’s remind ourselves of what Jesus has been talking about in the gospel of Matthew. Especially, I want to focus on his parables of the kin[g]dom of heaven. In chapter 13, Jesus tells seven of these parables—often called the parables of the sower, the weeds and the wheat, the mustard seed, the yeast, the hidden treasure, the pearl of great price, and the net. And then we add last week’s parable (the parable of the unforgiving servants) and this week’s parable (the laborers in the vineyard). It is obvious that Jesus is pointing us in this one direction, this one way—towards the kin[g]dom of heaven that has already broken into our world.
What have we learned about this kin[g]dom of heaven, this reign on earth as it is in heaven? It is something that we should really, really want. Something that so precious that we would give anything to be apart of it. It is something that is partially hidden, unless you know where to look. It might be small right now, but it will grow to encompass everything. It is based on things like God’s extravagant spreading of the seed (the word, the gospel). It is so inclusive that it allows what seems to be weeds to grow right alongside the wheat (maybe in hope that the weeds will turn out to be wheat, just a different kind). It is subversive, acting like yeast, changing what once was to what will be. And it isn’t just for some, the net is cast wide.
It requires a lot from us as well. Last week we wrestled with the idea that we need to forgive others as we have been forgiven. And this week, we see a scenario where there is grumbling about what is fair when not all the workers put in the same amount of work. Now I could talk about the fact that the workers who got there first had agreed to the one denarius per day. I could point to the generosity of the landowner to those who came later. We could talk about how Jesus would have expected his hearers to see this as a parable about God and God’s people—since prophets and psalmists and writers in their Scriptures often portrayed God as the landowner (since God was the creator)—and Israel was the vineyard itself, or the workers within it.
But I wanted to take a little different view on this parable. Because, face it—we are the workers who have been there from the beginning of the day, or at least have been working a long time in the vineyard. We are the ones who would be grumbling because we were first and not last. And we might even say to ourselves, (as some have done), well, why don’t I just wait until I’m almost at my end, and then jump into the labor—I’ll get paid the same amount, and I’ll have gamed the system—gotten my cake and eaten it as well.
As I mused on this parable this week, what jumped out at me was the way Jesus started it—for the kin[g]dom of heaven is like…
So I started to think—what if the vineyard IS the kin[g]dom of heaven? What if we saw that landowner going out to pick up laborers as God calling us to work in the church, in the world, in our own lives? What were these people doing when they were working in the vineyard?
One of the wonderful things about the place that we disappear to as often as we can, the Finger Lakes region, is that it has vineyards galore. And we even have a friend who works in a vineyard. There are so many things to do there, so many different things: planting, pruning, watering, weeding, harvesting, squishing (to make the wine), bottling, selling. It is physically demanding work. Messy work, sometimes dirty work, work that puts you near to the earth, work that proceeds regardless of the weather. And you are often hiring other workers, especially at harvest time.
I also know that although some of the work is individual, much of it is done as a team, a community. You are in the fields together. You know when someone needs help, and you lend a hand. You have a common goal—to produce the best crop you can this year (with all the variables that you can’t control: rainfall, sunshine, early frost, pests, type of soil.)
As I thought about this laboring in the vineyard, I thought, this is a great picture of what life is like. Messy, dirty, coming at you in all kinds of weather. Requiring doing a lot of tasks to the best of your ability. It is easier when you are part of a community. More fulfilling when you have a vision, a goal to head towards (regardless of all those things you can’t foresee or change).
The more I thought about it, the more I thought that we sometimes only focus on the money, the payment, that those laborers were getting. But what about all the time in the vineyard? What about all the fellowship in the rows, during lunch break, sharing the back-breaking job, just sharing the joys and disappointments too? If we think of the vineyard itself as the kin[g]dom of heaven, wouldn’t we want to be the absolute first in line to be asked by God to come and work?
Wouldn’t we want to be there for whatever it takes to help build and nurture and tend and harvest and enjoy? Yes, it requires something of us, but think of all that the laborers who came late to the party missed!
Jesus has made this parable one day, but what about the vineyard over a lifetime—whatever days we are given by God. The landowner is gracious with payment for “services rendered.” But the call of God is bigger than us receiving payment for a job well done, or at least showing up for the job.
The last shall be first and the first shall be last could have so many meanings. It could be a way of reminding us that God always looks out for the vulnerable, the poor, those who have lost their way, those who have missed out. Those last will be first in receiving what God pours out for all of us. Those last will receive the abundance of God’s mercy and grace and love, just like those who were first.
The last shall be first and the first shall be last could have another meaning. Because who is the most important? The last or the first? We often list “who wins” first prize (maybe those are the only ones we list). But watching the Emmy’s last Sunday, it is apparent that they wait to give the really big prizes—Best Comedy, Best Drama, etc. when? First? No, Last. The most important awards come at the end of the night.
Jesus is telling us that we need to think of ourselves as early tech adopters. Yes, if you get in at the beginning, you will have to deal with bugs and upgrades, with changing looks. You might even be involved in helping the whole thing evolve. That’s part of the fun, part of the “ride.” You were there from the beginning, through all the false starts and dead ends and missteps. You complained to others who were there at the beginning too.
You shared easter eggs and cool things you found you could do. And you appreciated together where you were headed, and how you might get there.
In other words, there is much more to gain from life, and especially what we do with our life, than money. (Don’t get me wrong, I understand that money is one of those essentials—and notice that everyone, whether they worked all day, or only an hour, got a day’s wage—which they could take home to buy food, or pay taxes or spend on needed things.) Along with the fact that the landowner had the right to spend his money as he wished (being generous to those who hadn’t “earned” a full day’s pay), there are the intangibles. Did those who only worked an hour really “get one over on the owner?” Was there an injustice? Was it unfair to the laborers who had been there all along?
Only if we see laboring in the vineyard as something onerous, as something that doesn’t give us anything of value past the money. What did those who were last miss? Not just hard work, but living in the kin[g]dom for much of the day. They missed hanging out in community. They missed having meaningful work, God’s work, to do, with others, in the presence of God.
I was listening to STAR 99.1 the other day. And one of the hosts was talking to the listeners. He said something like this, “I know that sometimes it seems like we just have a job. And we go to work and at the end of the week we get a paycheck. But you need to remember that God has asked us to work as well. It doesn’t matter if you flip burgers, or teach kids, or trade on the Stock Market. You are going to be in contact with others. Do you give them a smile? Do you say a kind word? Do you look them in the eye and try to see Jesus?
Do you try to be of service in your own way? That’s why whatever you do isn’t just a job. It’s a way of being in this world, it’s a way of serving others and God. That’s what we are asked to do.”
So it’s not about first or last. It’s not about the payment at the end. Our lives are about living, working, being in the vineyard that the landowner, God has invited us into. Whenever we get the invitation, if we choose to answer it—we will be there at the end of the day. To hear God’s words, “job well done.” And in the meantime, for those of us who are already in the fields, let’s revel in the experience. Let’s tell stories together. Let’s eat and drink and lift praise to God. Let’s do our part in building up the vineyard, in planting new plants, in widening the borders, in keeping it growing. That is all we can be expected to do. And let us marvel in the fact that we are getting to spend our time in the unfolding vision, the greatest treasure that there is, the place Jesus wanted to cement in our minds, and called us to participate in—the kin[g]dom of heaven.
First or Last, God invites us to come and join the family. May we do so joyfully and gratefully. May it be so, Alleluia, Amen.
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