A homily for the Twenty-Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 27, 2026
Ezekiel 18:25-28, Philippians 2:1-11, Matthew 21:28-32
Sir Isaac Newton’s Third Law of Motion states that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
Or, in the case of youngsters and other immature people, every action that somebody considers unfair is met with a double dose of pouting and stamping feet.
But what’s most unfair is how some of us view fairness.
Last Sunday, our Gospel was the familiar but puzzling parable of the vineyard owner who pays all his workers the same, regardless of how many hours they worked. Many commentaries, sermons, and other analyses of the passage fall back on the final statement from Jesus that the last shall be first and the first shall be last.
That’s just lame.
Sorry.
That shouldn’t be the point.
Please forgive me if you disagree.
But falling back on the first-last-last-first slogan can have the undesired effect of encouraging people to be bad or lazy or otherwise procrastinatory if they think they’ll get the same reward as the industrious. As worker bees.
And worker bees feel the urge to sting when they think somebody received special treatment and they didn’t.
Moreover, in an era when many people are paid by the hour or their salaries are calculated against the length of their workweek, the notion of a full day’s pay for a partial day’s effort is a head-scratcher.
But just looping back to the beginning of that parable, we remember that the workers hired at dawn agreed to a day’s pay for a day’s work. The vineyard owner was correct: They were not cheated. They received a fair wage.
What didn’t happen is: They didn’t mind their own beeswax. And they pouted and stamped their feet.
Building on that passage, this week’s Gospel introduces us to the ancestors of Tommy the Talker and Danny the Doer (I’m vaguely remembering “Highlights for Children”; please hang in there). Danny whines and refuses his father’s request that he do a little work, but in the end sees the light and pitches in around the vineyard. Tommy yesses his dad but does his own thing.
To quote everybody’s mom, actions speak louder than words.
To misquote Newton, bad answers bad. A different bad, but still bad. Unfair counters unfair. Selfish invokes selfishness. We humans can be reflexive, reactive. We feel slighted, even when we really haven’t been, and we push back.
We push back when we need to hold on a moment.
The “Danny” son from the parable exemplifies all the great reasons why we need to think things through before we speak or act. Before we say no or yes when the opposite answer is correct. To take a breath, count to five; whatever technique works best.
Fairness means keeping a civil tongue, and listening to others and to our best selves before making any moves.
It’s not always about us, even if we think we’ve taken a hit of some sort. That we’ve been handed the fuzzy end of the lollipop.
Because fairness, kind and loving and truly fair fairness, exists only when two conditions are met simultaneously. Fairness exists when all God’s children have what they need to live their best lives and when each individual’s unique needs are met. To add another cliché to this cliché-ridden reflection: Fairness means all for one and one for all.
We are called to embrace that.
When we say yes to God’s will — even if it means having to kick ourselves first — we start humankind on the path that leads to fulfillment of both those conditions. That leads to fairness.
It’s a journey worth taking.
Without pouting or stamping of feet. We’ve outgrown those, thank God.
