You and I, each one of us, is a consolidation, a mix tape, a coming together of many varied things. These include our experiences, our lessons learned, our traumas, our aspirations, our relationships, our joys, our hopes, our tendencies, and our sufferings. Time goes by and we collect all these up and carry them along with us. Some we’ll shed along the way because we want to, some we can’t as easily. Sometimes we reach for and successfully take hold of new things that we desire, sometimes we grasp, but fail. Taken together, these become our story, our wear and tear, our identity, the lens through which we see the world, and they define our comfort zones. And what I’ve gathered up along my way will be different from what you do. What’s in my shopping cart won’t be the same as what’s in yours. But hey, that’s life. It’s what makes me… me… and you… you.

If you recall the old cartoon character, Popeye, the spinach eating sailor man, you’ll remember his favorite expression: “I am what I am!”

I am what I am.

After all, how could I possibly be anything else?

Whenever I encounter something new, I rely on what’s in my shopping cart to help me make sense of it all. For example, I have worked for something like 40 years in various business and management positions and when I hear today’s Gospel story about the workers who were hired at different times during the day, I can absolutely relate to the complaint of those who started early and who were paid the same as those who only worked an hour. That’s no way to run an operation. What company would institute that kind of compensation policy? You’re going to generate perverse incentives that way, diminish the work ethic of your staff, create disengaged employees, and frankly… the whole thing is going to turn into a gigantic dumpster fire.

Nice story, Jesus… but, c’mon… clearly you don’t have an MBA like I do!

This is the way I think. Based on my lens, my shopping cart, my comfort zone, and the simple fact that… I am what I am.

In how many Gospel stories, however, especially lately, have we heard examples of Jesus asking his followers to not think as they were accustomed to but rather to try… to really try… to think as he did? For example, when Peter told Jesus that there was no way that anything bad was going to happen to him, the teacher scolded him and asked him to try to see it differently.

Jesus asked him to think as he does, not as we do. 

I believe that this is the central goal of our faith life… that while we are naturally inclined to rely on our way of seeing things… we are being strongly called to try to see things through the eyes of Jesus instead.

Now, I am not suggesting that we should diminish ourselves in this process. We are not being asked to forget all we’ve learned and experienced, all we’ve gathered up in our shopping carts, but rather to try to… elevate. 

To elevate.

Much in the same way that Jesus’ divinity perfected his mother’s DNA. Much in the same way that ordinary bread and wine are transformed into something far greater. And much in the same way that our eternal and beautiful souls uplift the otherwise unremarkable skin and bones that carry us through our lives.

In short, Jesus’ mission seems to have been a triumphant proclamation that Popeye was dead wrong: we are, in fact, far more than we seem… and if we follow this teacher, he will take us to places we never could on our own.

My lens tells me that the workers in the story from today were right to be annoyed. But Jesus’ lens suggests that salvation can come to those who work the field from early on as well as to those who come in just under the wire. My lens wants a good and fair reward for an honest life’s work, Jesus’ lens wants to pull us all together… whether we started from early on on the trail or headed out later, even much later.

Again, let’s not diminish who we are based on our stories, our wear and tear, our identities, the lens through which we see the world, and our comfort zones. But let’s be open, let’s be willing, let’s be humble, and let’s try… really try… to see through the eyes of Christ. 

If we can do that, we might come to understand that loving our enemies is more than just rising above our frustration with them and instead seeing that they are our enemies mostly because they are pushing shopping carts filled with hurt.

If we can do that, perhaps we can relate better to those who don’t look like us or do what we do and realize that they want nothing more than to be accepted so they can walk alongside us and try to see the face of Jesus.

If we can do that, perhaps we can be a Church that, even when we stumble, works hard to be a true beacon for all… including those who have been here from dawn and for those who just got here.

This is how we should see.

And this is how we elevate.