The Worker

Yakov silently begged his arthritic fingers to tie the knots in his sandal in the predawn darkness. A moment later, he struggled up from the simple pallet that made his bed, muttering a quite prayer of thanks to God for the distant cousin who let him use this barely habitable room for a pittance. He offered another thanks for the patience of the cousin in collecting the overdue pittance. He gave yet more thanks for the chilly morning air that woke him early enough to let him leave the house before his cousin came around looking for that pittance from Yakov and the others who crammed themselves into the flophouse at night.

Listening carefully for snores of the other sleepers in the blackness of the one room hovel, he made his way to the door, stepping forward with his good left leg and swinging his crooked right leg, the one broken by an angry ox, behind. Once outside and sure there was no one else on the empty street, he felt for the small pouch inside his threadbare tunic. It didn’t take him long to count the one coin inside. A single penny to get through a day? A week? A month? How long could he make a small loaf of bread last?

Eying the lightening horizon, he shuffled to the market as fast as his uneven gait allowed. The clatter of early merchants opening up their stalls, the crows of the roosters, the hurrying passerby heralded another day in the week, the last before Sabbath.

By the time he hobbled into the market square, other day laborers hoping for a little more work before the end of the grape harvest were filtering in. Yakov sighed. He hoped against hope the harvest would have tired some of the fitter workers who found steady enough work to save a coin or two, but no, they looked like they were turning up just the same. He chided himself for his optimism, knowing everyone would take what work they could while it lasted. He did the same as a young man.

Yakov passed the few vendors already opening up. All turned away from him as he approached, knowing the question that would come. Knowing the question they didn’t want to answer. Maybe as closing time drew near, they would have a scrap of food left over that they couldn’t sell. He ignored the smell of searing meat and baking bread, the fresh fruits and vegetables being set out, and the rumbling of his stomach. Ignoring the younger workers, workers who found work all week long, buying their breakfast took far more effort. He kept his gaze focused on the center of the square, looking for the arrival of any of the vineyard overseers. With the Sabbath coming this evening, they would all want an early start. With the day of rest tomorrow, they would want as much of the crop harvested today as they could manage. Sure enough, he spotted Simon, a former regular employer, already making his way through the growing crowd of laborers. Yakov made his way towards the overseer, watching him pick workers quickly.

As he drew near, he caught Simon’s eye. Simon waved him off.

“Sorry, Yakov. New owner and he’s a crony of Herod’s. He almost fired me last time I picked a charity case.” The excuse felt flimsy. Yakov simply moved on, presenting himself to each overseer as they entered the square, watching each leave with a work gang of the young and fit.

A hush grew over the market. Yakov felt, more than saw, the morning crowd parting. Someone notable in the market! That never happened this early in the morning. Most would be sleeping off last night’s indulgences still or indulging in the luxury of going to the temple for morning prayer. To Yakov’s surprise, the crowd of laborers began to open up right in front of him. A middle aged man dressed in common clothes entered the middle of the square. His bearing and the gold ring on his hand put the lie to his clothing. Yakov racked his brain, wondering who this was while trying to avoid the man’s gaze. It never was a good thing to attract the attention of the rich lest. More than one laborer ended up a slave or worse because they’d crossed a noble in some minor way.

Joshua! That’s his name. He owned the largest farms in the area. His vineyards alone measured larger than most landlords’ entire holdings. Yakov could no longer look away as this man, the wealthiest around, started picking out workers to work for him for the day. Unheard of! Hiring was the task of a common overseer, not the owner! Where was his overseer, Matthew?

Yakov left the thought unfinished and edged forward to make sure Joshua would pass him. Yakov stood tall and kept his chin up despite seeing that the man only picked the strongest workers.

“Come, work for me and I’ll pay you the day’s wage,” was all Joshua would say and another strong worker joined crew.

Someone jostled Yakov aside. Eleazar! The young man Yakov had sold his tools to when times first got rough. Yakov stumbled, almost falling into the stall behind him.

He heard, “Come, work for me and I’ll pay you the day’s wage.” Yakov got his hopes up, but by the time he regained his feet, Eleazar was marching off with the man, headed for the vineyard. A few others begged the man for a job, he just waved them off. “Maybe next time,” was all he would say to them.

“You alright, Yakov?” Yakov turned to look at the merchant whose stall he’d nearly crashed into. He sighed a small sigh of relief. A friendly face at least.

“Yes. Thank you, Samuel.”

“I think that was it for the day.” Yakov turned to look. He saw a large group of laborers still waiting, but no overseers to hire them.

“Light harvest, I guess.” Yakov turned back to the merchant. “I don’t suppose you need any help. I haven’t eaten anything fresh all week.”

Samuel looked him up and down, and sighed. “It’s a tough week. Maybe tomorrow night after Sabbath.”

“Well, maybe one of the overseers will need more help.”

“Maybe.” Samuel’s tone shifted. “But there’s a lot of young guys left.”

Yakov looked around, gave Samuel a resigned nod, and moved to the next merchant to ask if any help was needed. He stayed at it even when he saw other laborers asking the same question to other merchants, even when he’d circuited the market and found himself back at Samuel’s stall. He kept his query short. Never annoy someone you’re asking for help, he reminded himself.

After enough days waiting to see if he could get work, Yakov knew the tempo of the market. With the vineyards done hiring for the day, the visitors to the market would shift to servants buying ingredients and other goods for their masters’ households. Laborers would hang around, asking the new group of visitors for work. A few of the fit got hired, but in much smaller numbers.

Most of the early rejects still crowded the square when Joshua returned. As before, he made his way among the laborers. To those he picked, the fittest of those remaining, he again just said “Come, work for me and I’ll pay you what is right,” and moved on to the next worker. When he came to Yakov, he only smiled and moved on.

With as large a group as earlier in the morning following behind him, Joshua left the market place once again. One young man — was his name Jonathan? — standing near Yakov looked at him. “Well, I guess that’s going to be that. No point hanging around anymore.”

“I suppose you had work all week?” asked Yakov as Jonathan started to walk off.

“Yes. It’s not a great year for grapes, but the rest of the crops are looking good this year. I’ll bet it’s extra pay come late summer.” He waved and turned away, “See you after Sabbath.”

Yakov returned to his rounds, asking all the merchants, all the visitors, if they needed help that day. The rejections no longer stung but his stomach grumbled all the same. Servants gave way to craftspeople as the morning cool started to turn to the heat of the afternoon. Still, quite a few laborers still hustled along side Yakov for work. All looked hungry, balancing trying to find what shade they could in the full force of the sun with continuing to ask for work. Few found work. Most found some shade.

Around noon, Joshua returned. Again, he made his way among the laborers with his offer, “Come work for me and I’ll pay you what is right.”

Again, the youngest remaining went off. Yakov found himself receiving only a smile. Joshua returned mid afternoon and again left without Yakov.

“Why is Joshua doing the hiring? What happened to Matthew?” Joshua asked Samuel when he came around to his booth again.

“Nothing as far as I know,” replied the merchant. “It’s strange. You going to still hang around? There’s not much day left. You’re not going to make much even if someone does come in to hire you.”

“I know.” Joshua shrugged and continued limping through his rounds. Feet sore from walking all day trying to find work added to the misery he tried to ignore. The smell of food in the market began grow along with the number of people entering the market to buy a meal before sundown began the Sabbath. The crowd before Sabbath began was only outdone by the crowd in the evening following the sun going down on Sabbath day. The day of rest always brought out a festive mood.

With the sun dropping towards the horizon, Yakov started wondering about his reliable sources of handouts. Who had he bothered this week? Who was likely to have food they would not be able to sell or eat? Should he give in and spend the last coin on food? On Once Sabbath started, there would be no place to buy food until sundown. He eyed the few remaining desperate laborers in the square. All had some old injury or were just plain old. They all eyed him in turn. No one here this late looking for work had an option.  With Sabbath starting at sundown, they only would get a tiny bit of a day’s pay, even if …

Joshua returned to the square. The few miserable, broken, rejected workers remaining lined up. He walked through the small group. Each and every one heard the same thing.

“Come work for me and I’ll pay you what is right.”

Elated, Yakov joined the half dozen laborers hobbling after Joshua toward the vineyard. Barely an hour remained in the day when they met overseer Matthew. He directed them to start sorting through the harvested grapes, to separate good from bad. Yakov and the others attacked the task, doing their best to make the case to be hired again. Even with food right in front of them, they all stayed honest, despite Joshua and Matthew not even keeping an eye on them.

The hour came and when and the first sounding of the horn called the end to the day’s work. The workers all lined up in front of Matthew, waiting for their pay. Yakov joined his fellow rejects, standing last in the pay line, assuming they’d be paid last.

Joshua walked to Matthew and whispered something in his ear. Matthew, with a large pouch in hand, surprised everyone by walking to the end of the line. He pressed a single coin into Yakov’s hand. Yakov’s heart began to sink. Only a single bronze coin. Barely enough for a small loaf of bread. He looked down at the coin, then nearly dropped it. A silver denarius sat in his palm. A full day’s wage! The man next to him, Nathaniel, held his coin up in one hand, tapping it with the rough stick he used as his cane. His mouth moved but no words came out. Smiles rippled down the line as Matthew pressed a silver coin into each worker’s hand.

Eleazar stood at the head of the line, grinning as he waited. The other workers hired in the morning muttered among themselves in excitement. Then their faces fell as Matthew pressed one silver coin into each hand. As Matthew reached Joshua, Eleazar called out.

“What’s this? We work all day and get the same pay? We sweat all day through the summer heat and get as much as those who stood around chatting all day in the market?”

Yakov looked at his coin, thinking of the number of times he circled the market, the number of people he asked for work, the number of rejections, the number of times his stomach grumbled. He heard Nathaniel take in a breath, clearly about to say something to Eleazar. Yakov nudged him with his elbow.

“Don’t. It’s not worth it,” he whispered. “Eleazar’s a bully.”

Nathaniel looked at him, nodded, then looked back to the front of the line, hearing Joshua speak.

“I promised you a day’s wage. Did I cheat you?” Joshua’s voice remained forceful but even as he walked towards the back of the line. He made a point of looking at Nathaniel’s cane, then waved at the worn out, injured, and broken workers.

“Do you envy them because I am generous? Are you upset because the last, those who waited all day, were first? Are you upset because you, who were picked first, were last?”

As he limped away, Yakov held the silver coin tight and whispered a prayer of thanks to God for the generosity of Joshua and the meals to come.

Author’s Note: While this story uses the general structure of the Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard (Matthew 20:1-16), it is not a retelling of that parable from the point of view of one of the workers. There are at least two subtle deviations from the text of that parable that are found in the final dialog. In the end, this is more of a meditation on the parable and on the question "what really is work? is it just being paid?"