Fairness

[Our readings today are Jonah 3:10-4:11, Psalm 145:1-8, Philippians 1:21-30, and Matthew 20:1-16.]

Anyone who has more than one child or anyone who wasn’t an only child has more than a passing relationship with “fairness.” My mother used to tell a story of how, after my younger sister was born, my sister and I didn’t always see eye-to-eye, to say the least. At her wits’ end, my mother went to our pediatrician and asked what was wrong with us. His reply surprised her: “Mrs. Davison, you were an only child, weren’t you?” And, of course, she was!

We are very concerned with “fairness” and “justice” in life, especially when we feel that we have gotten the short end of the stick. Most people don’t raise issues of fairness when they are favored. I heard a story about a poster that had three fish on it—a large fish, a medium fish and a small fish. The large fish is thinking, “There is justice in the world!” as it’s about to eat the medium fish. The medium fish is thinking, “There is some justice in the world!” as it’s about to eat the small fish. The small fish is thinking, “There is no justice in the world!” I guess it’s all a matter of perspective.

In the parable we read today, the landowner pays the same daily wage to everyone whether they came at the beginning and worked all day or came at the end of the day. How outrageous! How unfair! Shouldn’t the ones who work longest and hardest get more as they clearly deserve? Don’t we say “the early bird gets the worm” and “God helps those who help themselves”?

But God isn’t “fair,” at least not by our standards. As a priest said about this text, “I am so glad that God isn’t fair. If God were fair and gave me what I truly deserve, I would be tortured slowly before being consigned to hell forever.”

In Charles Dickens’ wonderful story, A Christmas Carol, the Ghost of Christmas Past takes Scrooge back to a Christmas party thrown by his employer in his younger days, Mr. Fezziwig. The Ghost notes Scrooge’s pleasure at the festivity, and comments, “A small matter to make these silly folks so full of gratitude.” When Scrooge protests that it isn’t small, the Ghost reminds him, “Why! Is it not! He has spent but a few pounds of your mortal money: three or four perhaps. Is that so much that he deserves this praise?” Scrooge responds, more like his former self than the cold mean thing he has become, “The happiness he gives is quite as great as if it cost a fortune.” And even as he says the words, he realizes how much he has changed since those happy days, before money became an idol to worship.

Our landowner is a man very much like Mr. Fezziwig—eager to employ people, but also generous even to those employed only for a fraction of the day. He never claimed to be fair; he says he is generous. Generosity isn’t about giving someone what he or she deserves; it’s about the freedom of the giver to give out of his abundance to whomever he chooses—not because he is paying a debt, but because he wishes to freely give.

God’s generosity was also shown in the reading from Jonah. Jonah is angry with God because God didn’t act “fairly” towards the wicked people of Nineveh. God has forgiven them, when Jonah wants God to be tough and judgmental—towards them, of course, like the early workers want the landowner to be towards the latecomers.

God is fair; he doesn’t give us what we deserve. None of us deserve salvation; God doesn’t owe it to us. But He gives it to us anyway. He treats us infinitely better than we deserve. God is like the landowner who pays the daily wage to all the workers and like Mr. Fezziwig who brings joy without counting the cost.

And what is that daily wage? Entry into the Kingdom of Heaven.

Once there was a man who died and came to the pearly gates where Saint Peter greeted him. Peter, in addition in to carrying the keys, had a clipboard in hand. He said to the man, “Before we let you into heaven there are a few questions you have to answer and I have to fill out this form. We work on a point system here in heaven—maybe you’ve heard something about it. You tell me all the good things you’ve done and I’ll score your points—and when you reach a hundred points I’ll let you into heaven. OK?” The man thought for minute and then began to recite all his good deeds. “Well, I was married for over 50 years and I never cheated on my wife all that time; I never even looked at another woman with lust in my heart.” Saint Peter said, “Very good; better than most, in fact; that’s worth three points.” The man was a little surprised at the score, but continued, “I was very active in my church—I went every Sunday and I was a longtime member of the men’s group.” Peter said, “Excellent; that’s another point!” Exasperated, the man said, “My goodness, at this rate I’ll never get into heaven based on what I’ve done. I can only throw myself on God’s mercy.” And Peter said, “Oh, that’s a hundred points right there. Welcome to heaven.”

We get there on God’s mercy; not what we have done ourselves.

God’s economy doesn’t work as we seem to wish it would, rewarding those who work harder. Instead, God’s economy values us far more than our worth. Shouldn’t we try to follow His example?