My Evil Eye
Last week I visited the Pittsburgh Zoo with Pam and our two grandchildren. We came midafternoon, and the zoo closed at 5:30, so after buying our tickets—which weren’t cheap—we decided to hop on the tram instead of walking. Nope. Not without a ticket. We go to the ticket counter—it’s five bucks apiece. That’s twenty dollars on top of the entry fee. We shilly shallied for a minute, but in order to maximize our tour, we ponied up and a nice lady put bright green bands on our wrists—our ticket to ride.
We rode to the African Savanna and got off. Over the next few hours we looked for the tram to take us to the Jungle Odyssey or the Aquarium, but one never came by. So we walked.
Along about 5:15, though, we were all tired, overheated, and a long way from the parking lot. Luckily, a tram came around the bend and we hopped on. I was glad I’d gotten those tickets, if only for this last ride home.
Not fifty feet later the tram driver stopped for a couple who asked if they could get on. They did not, however, have a green wrist band. I elbowed Pam, pointed to my properly banded wrist, then (discreetly) at the freeloaders.
A minute later, we came upon two men who waved down the driver. They wanted a ride too. I was getting peeved. Then the men called to two older women who had trouble walking. I felt a little better about letting them on, but not the men. I mean, nobody had a green wrist band!
I could see that the tram driver was trying to help people clear the zoo before closing time, but finally I turned to Pam and said, “What was the point of buying the ticket if everyone gets a ride anyway?” I didn’t say it, but I fantasized about going back to the ticket counter and saying to the nice lady, “What kind of a tram service are you running here? I want my twenty dollars back!”
At that moment I started to laugh. “Can you believe it?” I said to Pam. “I’m literally reliving Jesus’ parable of the Laborers in the Vineyard!” That’s the crazy-making story about the vineyard owner who hires workers all day long. The workers hired at 8:00 am agree to a day’s wage of a denarius. But then the owner hires laborers at 10:00 and simply promises to pay “whatever is right.” And again at 2:00, and then 4:00.
At 5:30 everybody lines up for their money, starting with the last workers. When the eight o’clockers see that the four o’clockers are getting a denarius, they start doing the math, anticipating what they must now fairly receive. But when they put out their hands, the owner gives them only the denarius—and they go nuts. The owner simply replies, “Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for a denarius? . . . I choose to give to this last as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I want with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?” (Matt 20: 1-16). That was me. I got exactly what I paid for, but I was indignant when others got it without paying.
Sitting in that tram, the last line of that story rang in my head. The owner’s words, “Are you envious because I am generous?” are translated literally as, “Is your eye evil, because I myself am good?” The “evil eye” is a Hebrew expression of jealousy and envy. Someone with an evil eye will not only feel no joy when others prosper—they feel actual distress. They only feel real joy when other people suffer and they don’t.
“First” people are the ones who come in for judgment in this parable. If you think you’re first, you’re special, you’re righteous, you’ve paid your way—Jesus wonders if your eye is evil. I like to think I see every person as worthy and rewarded, no matter what they’ve done, what they’ve earned or paid. But the hilarious incident on the Pittsburgh Zoo tram made me admit it: I’m a Firster with an eye problem. And Jesus ends that parable with those famous words that drive people like me crazy: “So the last will be first, and the first last.”
Instead of feeling judged and “demoted” to last place (Firsters are really good at judging others and themselves), I could nurture my good eye and see that in Jesus’ kingdom the first and last are reversed, but we’re all on the heavenly tram and it’s ok if you have a green wrist band, and it’s ok if you don’t. In this kingdom, nobody cares.
Thanks, David. My friend, Elizabeth, calls this First tendency and overdeveloped sense of justice…
I like that “overdeveloped sense of justice.” For rule-followers like me, that’s a daily struggle!
Don’t you just love it when, from out of nowhere, BAM! The Gospel hits you right upside the head?
Happened to me the other day when I ran smack dab into a quote from Bishop William Barber about hope. “I’m not an optimist,” he said, “no, no. I’m full of Christian hope.”
I read that a few days ago, that quote. Love that man. He’ so embodies the Gospel.
Oh, brother David, I really had a good chuckle on this one. One practical comment- there is a network of national zoos and most major zoos are a part of it. As Grandparents, we found it best to join one (in our case, Philadelphia, the oldest and best zoo- my bias as a native) and have enjoyed discounts in parking, free trams, free carousels, and a lot of “freebies” that are typically extra. Of course, you need to do the math and the homework to make sure all the zoos you can conceive of visiting are in network, and that you will indeed go more than once in a year. If both boxes check, this is a great way to go. With special events at holidays (Halloween, Christmas etc.) it typically works to your advantage. That should calm your Evil Eye. One spiritual comment- very often, probably too often, I am that guy flagging down the figurative tram at the end of the day- maybe even slipping the facilitator an extra couple bucks to look the other way. Fortunately, I usually have Kyle along to keep me straight, but in the end, I am truly thankful we have a generous, loving God who through the blood of the Son, has seen fit to extend that generosity over many more than just “wrist band” transgressions. Miss you brother. Keep on writing.
Thanks for the practical suggestion–will look into that–and the final reflection, that vision of yourself flagging down the tram. We all encounter this parable of truth in our wonderfully different ways–and then…we’re all together on that bus.
I was on that tram, and I admit to a stink eye too! I like your image of the heavenly tram. Some of us got on early with a green wristband, others got a complimentary ride at the very last minute, but we’re all on the tram!
This was a helpful reading to bring an awareness of my needs to God. I too am a “Firster with an eye problem“. That is so human.
This was the gospel one Sunday when I was teaching fourth through sixth graders. One girl was perplexed by, “the first shall be last and the last shall be first”. She declared one hand “the first” and the other hand “the last”, and kept switching their positions. She noted that, when the last became first, then they were first so they had to become last. Then when they were last, they would become first again and so there was no way to stay in either position, first or last. Forgot there is no hierarchy. There is only equality. As we go about our days in checkout lines, and with other advantages or systems, we subconsciously move further away from God’s view. Thank you for opening my eyes, beyond the worldly human point of view.
Love that wisdom from a child. With her sense of the endless cycle of the last first…and then having to be last again–she intuited that those words are a classic koan. It dissolves our sense of hierarchy and just deserts. It’s trying to tell us that all our accounting and ranking is pointless!
Correction:
For God, there is no hierarchy.
There is only Equality.
David – the action of the train engineer is the difference between justice & mercy.