Radical Socialism, Capitalism, and Grace - Reflections on Mt 20:1-16, 17th Sunday after Pentecost

by John C. Holbert on Wednesday, June 24, 2026

         I am well aware that the use of the term “socialism” in connection with anything biblical constitutes for many “fightin’ words.” Despite the face that avowed socialists are mayors in two major USA cities (New York and Seattle), with another one in the running for mayor of my city, Los Angeles, one would think that the days of confusing the economic approach named socialism with communism and concentration camps are over, but more than a few right-wingers still get this completely wrong. Modern socialism in the USA has to do with a broad concern for the economic equality of all persons, an equal access for all to the goods and services of society, as opposed to an economy that caters predominantly to the wealthy few. Given that simple definition, I would surely consider myself a socialist, and am very suspicious of an unbridled and unregulated capitalism, a system that has led us to be mired in a culture where too few have too much, and too many have too little. Yet, this story from Matthew calls us to evaluate all of our created systems in its surprising light.

         That leads me to Mt.20, one of the Gospel’s greatest statements of seeing the world anew, coupled with the wonders of God’s amazing grace. This story is nothing less than mind-blowing, and calls into the sharpest question the ways we have ordered our society in the 21st century. Matthew’s Jesus tells the tale as a way to describe the “realm of heaven,” that condition where God actually names the world that God wishes to come into existence here and now. Matthew here does not speak of what happens after one dies, but urges us to live lives in the light of God through Jesus that takes seriously the reign and rule of God right here and right now. 

         The story begins simply enough. A landowner, a man of some means, possessor of a large vineyard, a sign of significant power and wealth in the first century, seeks to hire some day laborers to work the harvest of his vineyard. He goes out very early in the morning to find workers; the first group hired agrees to work for one denarius for a day’s work. This piece of the story has lead many readers to assume that that was the usual day’s wage at the time, but since this is the only story that suggests that reality, we finally cannot know if that wage is in fact the true one for a day’s labor. However, the agreement on the part of these hired workers to work in the vineyard for that sum is very important for the ongoing plot of the narrative.

         Apparently, the harvest was significant, for the owner heads back to the marketplace for more workers. He sees some “standing in the marketplace without work,” and says to them, “Go into the vineyard too, and whatever is just I will give you.” This is a crucial note. No exact sum is promised to this second group of workers, but only what is “just.” The Greek is the much used “dikaios,” a word that can mean “to show justice,” “to do justice to someone,” “to act uprightly,” among many other meanings, all having to do with equal and fair treatment. We cannot presume to know what these second-chosen workers might have expected from this landowner, but since they were hired at “the third hour,”  and promised a “just wage,” in the common expectation of the time, or perhaps any time, they can hardly imagine that they will receive a full day’s wage. After all, “just” could well mean what is fair, as they understand the term.

         The harvest is perhaps larger than the owner imagined, so he goes back to the marketplace at both the sixth and the ninth hour, and hires more workers. Finally, at the eleventh hour, just as the sun begins to set, he returns to the hiring place, and “found others standing around,” and asks, “why have you stood here all day without work?” “No one has hired us,” they say, and the owner tells them, “you go into the vineyard too” (Mt.20:6-7). He says nothing to this last group about payment.

         The sun sets, and it is time for the owner to pay his workers, so he summons his steward, and tells him to “call the workers and give them pay, beginning from the last up to the first” (Mt.20:8). The eleventh-hour workers, having worked for about one hour, having not broken a sweat, are handed one denarius, a whole day’s wage. Of course, they are thrilled with the owner’s unexpected largesse, and no doubt head to their homes filled with gratitude if not a large measure of wonder at the owner’s completely astonishing, if not slightly loopy, freedom in his use of his money. Those who were hired first look at this amazing reality of a full denarius for one hour’s work, and “they thought that they would receive more” (Mt.20:10). Well, it is only fair, is it not? One hour’s work earns one denarius; why should twelve hour’s work not receive at least twelve denarii? They imagine themselves free to take some time off, to visit some friends, to stop the ceaseless round of daily labor for a time. 

         But when the steward hands them also a denarius, they “murmured against the householder” (Mt.20:11). The Greek “murmured” or “grumbled” finds its background in the infamous “grumbling” tradition of the Israelites in the wilderness (see Exodus 16:7; Num.14:27), a sign of extreme discontent with God’s and Moses’ actions. So, here the Greek, gogguzo, indicates anger at the interpretation of the “justice” of the landowner. In addition, the word sounds very much like what it implies; it is thus an onomatopoeic word. The first-hired workers are angry and indignant at the way the owner has acted. “These last ones worked one hour, and you made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the heat” (Mt.20:12. The response of these workers is revelatory. “You have made them equal to us,” they say, but they clearly are not. Is this fair? Is this just? It is not! And it must be said, the reply of the owner to this complaint is less than helpful. “Friend, I did you no injustice. Did you not agree with me for a denarius? Take what is yours and go! I choose to give to these last ones as to you. Is it not allowed to me to do what I wish with my own?” (Mt.20:13-15). 

         Here is the crux of the tale. The owner has the right to do what he wants with what is his, has the right to parcel out his goods as he pleases. But, the sweaty first workers shout, is that just, fair? Is not our exhaustion a sign that we deserve more than these well-rested one-hour workers? Is that finally what is fair? But the last line of the tale is the real kicker: “Is your eye evil because I am good?” That is the literal Greek text, and makes the point better than any more modern reading. The owner’s goodness trumps the worker’s understanding of what is fair and just. In short, the story offers a radical reinterpretation of what finally is just. You do not want to tell this story to the National Labor Relations Board, whose idea of justice includes appropriate pay for an appropriate time of work. Not here! The grace of God pours out freely on all, and if I am angered by that reality, then my “evil eye” does not blink in the face of God’s astonishing goodness.

         Matthew is here reworking our long-held idea of what is fair and just. The realm of heaven is simply not like the world as we have conceived it. It is ruled by God’s grace who chooses to give as God chooses to give. It is my refusal to accept that fact, my “evil eye,” that cannot imagine a world different from the one I have always known. God does not operate as we do; God’s justice is not seen as our justice. All economic and social systems, whether socialist or capitalist, must be evaluated in the light of a God who chooses to give grace to all, no matter what the circumstances. This is a radical word indeed!