Everyone knows this German description even if they do not know this German word. Schadenfreude. The Oxford dictionary defines it as a feeling of pleasure, joy, or satisfaction at the bad things, troubles, or misfortunes that happen to other people. It combines two German word: schaden (harm) and freude (joy). The Malays have a similar saying, “padan muka” or “serves you right”. It sounds rather unchristian to take joy or pleasure in someone’s misfortunes but I suppose it arises from our instinct for transactional fairness. I mean you would hate it too when going to the fruit seller and coming home with the 2kg of duku which actually weighs 1.7kg. No one appreciates the feeling of being cheated.
We want fairness but the Gospel today reveals to us how God is characteristically unlike us. He measures worth not by output nor by effort spent but by love and presence. Still it is not easy to comprehend the behaviour of the landowner in the manner of payment which leaves a bitter taste in the mouth. But God the landowner was not unkind or unjust. Leaving aside the dissatisfied feeling of being cheated, we see how God was in fact just and merciful. The manner of God’s proceeding was to deal with what was needed and not what was desired. The transaction agreed upon by both the landowner and the original group of workers was that they will receive a living wage at the end of the day. The 1 denarius agreed upon possibly represented the necessary wage, on a daily basis, for a family to survive. At the end of the day, the landowner gave those who worked less what they needed but he was not unjust to those who had worked more because that was agreed upon wage whereas those who came last were mercifully treated by the landowner. Despite their little output, he gave them enough to survive on.
Often our instinct for fairness is tinged with a measure of envy. We feel entitled to what we have worked for and we resent how those who did not work also got what they should have. Perhaps the invitation is to move away from the bitterness of jealousy to the rejoicing of celebration. “I wish I have gotten what you have but I am able to be happy that you have gained so much more”. I am sure you can find it in your own experiences to know how envy and rejoicing work.
When I was younger, certain dynamics simply passed me by; they were outside the ambit of my experience. But the last round of bishops' appointments was eye-opening. I watched how those who believed their time had come, but were passed over, subtly leaked their resentment through passive-aggressive behaviour. It became clear that ecclesiastical robes do not shield the heart from envy. How difficult it is to trade resentment for enjoying someone’s elevation.
Remember the Prodigal Son? We often focus on the relationship between the father and the wayward son. But a main story we might miss out on in the Prodigal Son is the older brother whose resentment did not stem entirely from jealousy or envy. The father’s response to him was telling. “All I have are yours”. Sometimes our resentment comes because we have such a low esteem of ourselves that we resent those who got it better because we do not believe that we are entitled to a good deal.
I remember an incident during my years of studies overseas when I complained to the spiritual director in one of our monthly conversations. It was the Confession thing. I was pointing out how another Jesuit was not living out his vow of poverty. I still remember the “light-bulb” moment as if God was slapping me “You are just jealous that he dared to live while you refused to live”. I remember preaching once about how sometimes we want justice, not because we are just, but because we are envious that the unjust can get away with murder. We may secretly desire the same opportunity to get away with the same crime. It was jealousy but more than that, I learnt one valuable lesson. I should ask for what I want and if I got it, I should be grateful. But if I did not, I would not be jealous that someone got it. I can tell you how spiritually free one becomes when there is no jealousy because my happiness is no longer based on what others got or did not get. Schadenfreude or not, we must never envy God’s generosity.
St Paul is inspiring from this perspective. He has arrived at a point in his life where Christ truly was his centre. Where Jesus is, Paul wants to be. Given a choice, Paul would have wanted to be gone from this life, from all the messiness involved in his ministry. His experience is not different from ours. Even amongst the early Christians there was jealousy or envy. The reason why the order of deacons came to be instituted was to mitigate the breakdown of fair community care due to favouritism and comparison.
St Paul challenges us because for him, labouring for Christ was a privilege and not a chore and definitely not a competition. Petty jealousy often stalls our ministry, kills our momentum and damages the impact of our evangelical witnessing. The beauty of St Paul was that he was not concerned by what he could gain except that life with Christ was the prize he loved most. He was not tracking his achievements but in all things he maximised his love for the Lord. Detached from selfish ambition and human comparison, St Paul was only concerned with glorifying Christ. We should emulate Paul’s example that to live or to die is Christ. Always Christ.
