A homily for the Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 24, 2023
Is 55:6-9, Phil 1:20c-24, 27a, Mt 20:1-16a
You’ve probably heard a rumor that I enjoy an occasional cup of coffee every now and then. I’d like to set the record straight.
I drink many cups of coffee almost constantly, and I’ve done so for decades.
In fact, I even subscribe to a service that sends me enough recyclable and compostable pods to make 90 cups a month. Which I supplement with, yes, trips to Wawa, where they know my face if not my name.
Every now and then, because I’m a good customer, the coffee subscription company tosses something extra into the box, usually a mug or a travel cup or at least a thank you note.
Sort of a baker’s dozen, like when you get 13 doughnuts or bagels for the price of 12.
And we all look for the bonus, don’t we? The cereal or the detergent in the 40 percent more package. The BOGO, buy one get one free, or at least half off.
One night not long ago, I stopped in to Mr. Pizza Slice in Red Bank and asked for two slices. They gave me three while charging me for only two because it was almost closing time, and they didn’t want to throw the leftovers away.
Life is full of baker’s dozens.
And they’re an absolute joy whenever we receive them.
But we should never expect them.
I admit that whenever the coffee box arrives, I act like the big drooly dog in the Chewy commercial who gets all excited that the peanut butter box is here. Is there a mug or some other gift in the box besides my monthly supply of caffeine?
And, I also admit, when there isn’t, I feel a little let down, even though I did receive everything I ordered and paid for. There’s no reason to feel cheated, but I bet we all do, maybe a little, when something like that happens.
Part of what Jesus is telling us in today’s Gospel is how to manage expectations, and how to be satisfied and happy. To recognize when life is being fair, and when it’s not. To do our absolute best in trying to make life fair for everyone we encounter.
In his parable, Jesus wisely has the landowner pay the laborers in reverse order of how long they worked. Each worker receives the wages he was promised; a deal’s a deal. A day’s pay for a day’s work, regardless of how you define the workday: a minute, an hour, eight hours, sunrise to sunset.
The laborers who grumbled were not cheated; far from it. They received the usual and customary pay for the work they did. They held up their ends of the bargain, and the landowner, his. If somehow the shorter-shift workers had drained the landowner’s purse before he could pay those who worked longer, then that would have been grossly unfair.
But that didn’t happen. The full-day people were paid fairly.
Fairness is one of those concepts that trip us up pretty often.
It’s something we’re supposed to learn as children, but playing fair can be a hard lesson. Little kids find it easier to holler “Unfair!” than to let their sibling have the last cookie when they’ve already had more than their share.
And yet, fairness really is simple and clear.
Fairness means everyone receives what they need when they need it, and that means what’s fair for one person isn’t necessarily fair for another. One size does not fit all when it comes to fairness. What’s fair now may not be fair some other time, because needs change and situations change.
And fairness is not measured exclusively in material things. It cannot be.
Fair wages, yes. But also equal rights. Equal opportunities for all of God’s children, the opportunity to learn, to live free of fear, free of war, free of disease, free of hunger, free of pollution and pestilence.
Fairness isn’t magical; it doesn’t merely happen. It’s not a POOF! wave of a wand from Hogwarts. Fairness grows when all of us, especially people in authority, act justly and charitably, without discrimination or prejudice toward any human being created in God’s image and likeness.
If we act through a well-formed conscience, with our moral compasses pointing to our North Star, Emmanuel, then each of us will know how our gifts and talents can add to a fair and equitable life on Earth.
And that “the last shall be first” part? Many scholars suggest that Jesus is calling us all to lives of humility, and that’s true. One aspect of humility is the bumper-sticker theology of “Live simply so others may simply live.” So simply powerful.
But let’s also remember that God’s love, God’s enduring love, is a patient love. So, if someone takes a figurative full day — much if not all of their lifetime — to accept the invitation to come into God’s vineyard, then God will reward that person the same full reward he showered on those who followed The Way from their first breaths.
And because God’s purse of love is infinite, the rewards are fair. Pure and fair. For everyone, every child of God.
