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That’s Not Fair! 

Matthew 20:1-16 

There is a particular kind of tiredness that comes from being the person who has been there all day.  

You know what I mean. You were the first person to arrive. You unlocked the door. You made the coffee. You set up the tables. You figured out what nobody remembered to bring. And then you worked. You carried things. You did the jobs nobody else wanted to do.  

Eventually, you reach that point in the day when you are sweaty and tired and your feet hurt and you are beginning to wonder why you volunteered for this in the first place.  

And then someone walks through the door.  

They are fresh. They are cheerful.T hey say, “Hi! Sorry I’m late! What can I do?” And because you are a Christian, you say, “Oh, we’re so glad you’re here!” But somewhere, deep within your sanctified heart, there may be another response. 

Oh. How lovely of you to join us. 

Because you have been here all day.  

And here’s where things get dangerous. Imagine that when the work is finally finished, someone comes around with an envelope for everyone who helped. The person who arrived ten minutes ago opens theirs. You open yours. Same amount.  

Now tell me the truth. Are you really thinking “isn’t it great that we were all treated equally?!” Probably not. You’re thinking:  

That’s not fair.  

And if that’s your reaction, congratulations. You are ready for today’s parable.  

Jesus says that a landowner goes out early in the morning looking for people to work in his vineyard. He finds a group of laborers, agrees to pay them the usual daily wage, and sends them to work. A few hours later, he goes out again and finds more people standing around. He sends them into the vineyard too. Then he does it again at noon. Again at three. And finally, at five o’clock, when there is barely any workday left, he finds another group and sends them into the vineyard. So by the end of the day, there are people in that vineyard who have been working since sunrise standing next to people who have barely broken a sweat. 

Then comes payday. The landowner tells his manager to pay the workers, beginning with the people who arrived last. And the people who worked only one hour receive a full day’s wage. Now imagine that you are one of the people who arrived first. You see that envelope handed to the five-o’clock crew. You see what is inside. And immediately, you start doing the math. If they got a full day’s wage for one hour of work… What am I getting? 

Jesus even tells us that this is what they expected. They assumed they would receive more. Of course they did. They have been working since early that morning. Jesus says they have “borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.” 

They are tired. 

They are sweaty. 

Their backs hurt. 

And some guy who showed up at five o’clock is standing there holding a full day’s pay. 

But then their turn comes. They receive the same amount. And suddenly the vineyard has a morale problem. They begin grumbling against the landowner. “These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.” And I understand why. Because most of us have a pretty deeply ingrained understanding of fairness. 

If you work more, you should receive more. If you contribute more, you should be recognized for it. If you have been waiting longer, it should be your turn first. We learn those rules early because, for the most part, they are good rules. They help communities function. They help workplaces function. They help families function. 

And when those rules are violated, something inside us immediately notices. 

That’s not fair. 

But notice something important about the workers’ complaint. They aren't complaining because the landowner failed to pay them what he promised. He promised them a day’s wage. And they received a day’s wage. Their problem begins when they see what somebody else received. 

Before the five-o’clock workers were paid, a day’s wage was perfectly acceptable. Afterward, the exact same wage suddenly feels like an insult. Nothing about what they received changed. What changed was the comparison. And I suspect we know something about that too. It is entirely possible to be grateful for what we have right up until we notice what somebody else has. We can be perfectly content with our place in line until somebody gets ahead of us. 

And that is when Jesus begins asking a much harder question. 

Is the problem that the landowner has been unfair to the workers who came first? 

Or is the problem that he has been generous to the workers who came last? 

The latter is a much harder question. Because now this isn't really a story about wages anymore. It is a story about what happens inside us when generosity reaches someone we don't think has earned it. And suddenly, Jesus isn't just talking about workers in a vineyard. 

He's talking about grace. 

And grace is where our ordinary understanding of fairness begins to fall apart. Because grace, by definition, is not something we earn. It is a gift. And gifts become very difficult to calculate. The workers who arrived first seem to have forgotten that they were invited into the vineyard too. The landowner went looking for them. He offered them work. He promised them enough for the day. And he kept that promise. 

Their mistake was beginning to believe that their long hours gave them a greater claim on the landowner’s generosity. And if we are not careful, we can do the same thing with God. 

We can begin keeping track. 

I have been a Christian my whole life. 

I have been a member of this church for fifty years. 

I have served on committees. 

I have taught Sunday school. 

I have sung in the choir. 

I have given faithfully. 

I have shown up. 

And those things matter. 

Please hear me say that. 

A lifetime of faithfulness matters. 

The prayers you have prayed matter. The meals you have delivered matter. The children you have taught matter. The checks you have written matter. 

The hours you have spent setting up tables, washing dishes, attending meetings, visiting people who were lonely, caring for this building, and keeping ministries alive matter. 

God sees that faithfulness. And your church has been blessed by it. But none of it puts God in our debt. That is the uncomfortable part. We can spend so much time working in the vineyard that eventually we begin to forget that we were invited here by grace too. 

And then somebody else shows up at five o’clock. Maybe they haven't been to church in thirty years. Maybe they don't know when to stand up or sit down. Maybe they don't know the Lord’s Prayer. Maybe their life is messy. Maybe they have made choices we would never have made. Maybe they arrive carrying a history that makes us wonder where they have been all this time. 

And God says: 

Come into the vineyard. 

Not after they have accumulated enough hours. 

Come now. 

And if we have spent our whole lives trying to be faithful, there can be a little voice inside us that says: 

Wait a minute. They just got here. That is the voice Jesus is exposing in this parable. Because the scandal isn't that God fails to value the people who came early. The scandal is that God refuses to value the people who came late any less. 

The landowner says, “Are you envious because I am generous?” 

That question reaches far beyond a vineyard. Can I rejoice when God is good to someone else? Can I celebrate when mercy reaches someone whose life looks nothing like mine? Can I welcome someone into the community without first requiring them to prove that they deserve to be here? Can I trust that God's generosity toward another person does not diminish God's goodness toward me? 

Because grace is not a pie. Someone else receiving a bigger piece does not leave less for us. God does not run out of mercy. God does not have a limited supply of forgiveness. There are no shortages in the kingdom of God. And perhaps that is why Jesus tells a story that feels so unfair. He wants us to stop thinking about grace as though it were wages. 

Because if grace were wages, then we would spend our lives keeping track. 

Who worked longest. 

Who sacrificed most. 

Who behaved best. 

Who deserves more. 

Who deserves less. 

But Jesus says the kingdom of heaven is not like a payroll department. It is like a landowner who keeps going back into town. Nine o’clock. Noon. Three o’clock. Five o’clock. 

Still looking. 

Still inviting. 

Still saying: 

There is room for you too. 

And thank God for that. 

Because sooner or later, every one of us discovers that we are not the worker who has earned a full day’s wage. Sooner or later, every one of us needs something we cannot earn. 

Forgiveness. Mercy. Another chance. Hope when we have run out of it. Life when death has had the final word. And in that moment, we will not want God to pull out our timesheet. 

We will want grace. 

Maybe that is why this parable bothers us so much. We hear about those workers who arrived at five o’clock, worked for an hour, and walked home with a full day’s wage, and something inside us still wants to say: That’s not fair. And maybe Jesus would say: You’re right. Grace isn't fair. Grace is generous. Grace gives us more than we have earned. Grace welcomes people who arrived late. Grace forgives people who should have known better. Grace offers another chance when we have already used up the chances we thought we deserved. Grace keeps going back into the marketplace, hour after hour, looking for people who are still standing there and saying: 

You too. There is room for you too. 

At the beginning, we imagined ourselves as the person who had been there all day. The one who arrived early. The one who did the work. The one who was tired and sweaty and maybe just a little annoyed when somebody else wandered in at the last minute. 

And sometimes, we are that person. 

But sooner or later, we are also the person who arrives late. Sooner or later, we are the one who needs mercy we haven't earned. We are the one who needs forgiveness we cannot repay. We are the one standing there with empty hands, hoping that there is still a place for us. And the good news of the gospel is that God is still coming to find us. Even at five o’clock. Even when the day is almost over. Even when we have nothing left to prove. 

God comes looking for us and says: 

Come. There is room for you. 

And when the day is finished, we discover that God's generosity was never something we could earn in the first place. 

It was always grace. So maybe when we look at the outrageous generosity of God and say, 

“That’s not fair!” We are absolutely right. 

And thank God for that. 

Amen.