The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ

Difficult Stories

Not long afterwards, Jesus told another story that seemed to Christ unfair. Nor was he the only listener to react like that: many people could not understand it at all, and discussed it with one another afterwards. Someone had asked Jesus what the Kingdom of heaven would be like, and he said:

‘It’s like a farmer who went out early in the morning to hire labourers for his vineyard. He struck a deal with them for the usual daily wage, and they set to work. A couple of hours later he was passing through the market place and he saw some other workers standing idle, and he said, “You want a job? Go to my vineyard and I’ll pay you whatever’s fair.” Off they went, and he went on his way, and then came past again at noon, and then once more halfway through the afternoon, and each time saw some other men standing about, and said the same to them.

‘Finally, about five o’clock, he came through the market one more time, saw another group there, and said, “Why are you standing idle all day long?”

‘“No one has hired us,” they said. So he hired them on the same terms.

‘When it was evening, he said to his manager, “Call the men to come and get their pay, starting with the last, and then going back to the first.”

‘When the five o’clock workers came, he gave them each a full day’s wage, as he did to all the others. The workers who had been hired in the early morning grumbled about this, and said, “You’re giving these men, who’ve only worked for one hour, the same as us, who’ve been labouring all day in the scorching heat?”

‘The farmer said, “My friend, you agreed to accept a day’s wages for a day’s work, and that’s exactly what you’ve got. Take what you’ve earned, and go. Aren’t I entitled to do whatever I choose with what belongs to me? Because I choose to be good-natured, should that make you ill-natured?”’

Another story that Jesus told was even harder for his listeners to understand, but Christ wrote it down for the stranger in the hope that he could explain it.

‘There was a rich farmer who had a manager to look after his business, and complaints began to come to him about the way this man was dealing with his affairs. So he called the manager to come and see him, and said, “I’ve been hearing things about you that I don’t like. I’m going to dismiss you, but first I want a full account of everything that’s owed to me.”

‘And the manager thought, “What in the world am I going to do now? I’m not strong enough for manual labour, and I’m ashamed to beg… ” So he came up with a plan to ensure that other people would look after him when he was out of work.

‘He called his employer’s debtors to him one by one. He asked the first one, “How much do you owe my employer?” and the man said, “A hundred jars of oil.” “Sit down quickly,” said the manager, “take your account, and write fifty instead.”

‘To the next one he said, “How much do you owe?” “A hundred bushels of wheat.” “Here’s your account. Cross out a hundred, and make it eighty.”

‘And he did the same with the rest of the debtors. Now, what did the master say when he heard about this? Whatever you think, you’re wrong. What he did was to commend the dishonest manager for his shrewdness.’

What Jesus seemed to be saying with these stories, Christ thought, was something horrible: that God’s love was arbitrary and undeserved, almost like a lottery. Jesus’s friendship with tax-collectors and prostitutes and other undesirable characters must also have been part of this radical attitude; he seemed to have a real scorn for what was commonly thought of as virtue. He once told a story about two men, a Pharisee and a tax-collector, who both went to the temple to pray. The Pharisee stood by himself looking up to heaven and said, ‘God, I thank you that I’m not like other men, a thief, an adulterer, a swindler, or like that tax-collector over there. I fast twice a week, and I give away a tenth of my income.’ But the tax-collector didn’t dare to look up; he kept his eyes down and beat his breast, saying, ‘God, I beg you, be merciful to me, a sinner.’ And this, and not the other, Jesus told his listeners, was the man who would enter the Kingdom.

It was a popular message, no doubt; the common people delighted to hear about men and women such as themselves winning undeserved success. But it troubled Christ, and he longed to ask the stranger about it.