This sermon was preached at St. John Evangelical Lutheran Church in Charles City, Iowa on September 20, 2026.
Matthew 20:1-16
“For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. 2 After agreeing with the laborers for a denarius for the day, he sent them into his vineyard. 3 When he went out about nine o’clock, he saw others standing idle in the marketplace, 4 and he said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.’ So they went. 5 When he went out again about noon and about three o’clock, he did the same. 6 And about five o’clock he went out and found others standing around, and he said to them, ‘Why are you standing here idle all day?’ 7 They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard.’ 8 When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his manager, ‘Call the laborers and give them their pay, beginning with the last and then going to the first.’ 9 When those hired about five o’clock came, each of them received a denarius. 10 Now when the first came, they thought they would receive more; but each of them also received a denarius. 11 And when they received it, they grumbled against the landowner, 12 saying, ‘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.’ 13 But he replied to one of them, ‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for a denarius? 14 Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. 15 Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?’[a] 16 So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”
Beloved of God, grace and peace to you in the name of Jesus.
Thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. In other words, this kingdom of heaven that Jesus is talking about all the time in the gospel of Matthew, including in our gospel reading for this morning–we’re praying for this kingdom to become fully realized here and now. But what if we woke up tomorrow and the kingdom had come in all its fullness? Would we be rejoicing? Or would we be grumbling? I imagine that might depend, in part, on where we see ourselves in this parable that Jesus tells his disciples.
I’m guessing there are some of us who relate most easily to those workers who waited all day to be hired. We know what it’s like to be without work, to be unable to work, to not be chosen first when the captains are choosing their teammates for that proverbial game of kickball. We know the stress of not knowing how we’re going to pay our bills or provide for our families. We know how it feels when others see us as somehow “less than” just because our route through life looks different than theirs. We know how it feels to be perceived as lazy, or unwilling to help, when really, we’re mired in depression, or consumed by addiction, or struggling to show up because we just don’t think we’re good enough.
We identify with the laborers in the vineyard who are last hired but first in line to be paid. And when they step up to the manager, they are given not what they should have earned for one hour of work but instead a full day’s wage. And though Jesus doesn’t tell us what their response is to this incredible generosity, we can imagine the profound joy and relief they would have experienced. Finally, someone who saw them as worthy of working in the vineyard and who honored them by providing them with all that they needed for that day.
I’m also guessing that for many of us, and for the disciples themselves as they were hearing Jesus tell this story, we would see ourselves as those chosen first to work in the vineyard, those who toiled all day long, those who bore the burden of the day and the scorching heat. Those who work hard, those who are responsible, and committed, and diligent in doing what we’ve been asked to do. Those who are here in church on Sunday morning, and volunteer to serve on the altar guild, or the call committee, or the council, or as Sunday School teachers, or as ushers and readers and acolytes. Those who show up and do what needs to be done.
We identify with the laborers in the vineyard who begin to grumble and complain when others, who have not worked nearly as hard as they have, earn the same reward. Because it’s just not fair. It’s not right.
I see it all the time in my workplace; I’ve seen it in the church; I see it in myself–resentment by some that others aren’t working as hard as they are.
He gets paid the same salary as me, but I’m the one who’s always here working after hours, and he’s always taking off early.
She doesn’t do a thing to volunteer around here–she doesn’t even come to church–but she expects the church to show up for her now?
They haven’t lifted a finger to help with our group project; it’s not fair they’re going to get an A when we’ve done all the work.
And on. And on. And on. It’s so easy to become resentful when we feel like others aren’t doing their fair share.
It’s small comfort to know that human beings aren’t the only ones caught up in fairness. As I was writing this sermon, I read about a study done with capuchin monkeys. The monkeys generally prefer grapes to cucumbers. Same here. Anyway, the monkeys were placed in adjacent cages and were trained to exchange a rock with a researcher for a food reward. When both monkeys were given cucumbers for their effort, they were content to complete the task. But when one monkey received a grape for the same task, while the other received a cucumber, the monkey receiving the cucumber became outraged. The monkey receiving the “unfair” reward would refuse the cucumber, throw it back at the researcher, and shake its cage in protest.
Capuchin monkey fairness experiment
Interesting; right? Those workers hired at the start of the day likely would have been content with that denarius if they didn’t see the last workers (who barely worked at all) get that same wage. Even though they got what had been promised them, now they perceived their compensation as unfair.
Right before Jesus tells his disciples this parable, Peter asks Jesus, “Hey, what’s in this for us? We’ve left everything to follow you. What are we going to get for our sacrifice?” And Jesus assures Peter and the other disciples that everyone who follows him will inherit eternal life. But then Jesus tells this parable, as if to point out that Peter’s not asking the right question. This isn’t how the kingdom of God operates. It’s not about what anyone gets for following Jesus, as though we can earn God’s love. It’s not about what we do (or don’t do) at all.
Instead, it’s about the landowner choosing to do whatever the landowner wants; it’s about the creator’s relationship with the creature; it’s about God, who scatters seed willy nilly, and throws parties for prodigal sons, and leaves behind 99 to go after 1 lost sheep. It’s about God, who gives all of creation not what we’ve earned, but what God chooses to give us–our daily bread, undeserved forgiveness, unconditional love, abundant life, grace upon grace upon grace.
The kingdom of heaven turns our world upside down, upending our notions of fairness. Will we rejoice when it comes in all its fullness or will we grumble, muttering under our breath about God’s economy? How will we respond when God asks us, “Are you envious because I am generous?”
Martin Luther, in his explanation of the Lord’s prayer, wrote, “In fact, God’s kingdom comes on its own without our prayer, but we ask in this prayer that it may also come to us.” The kingdom is coming. We’ve already seen it in Jesus–extravagant, boundless, incomprehensible, undeserved grace for all creation. But we pray that it may also come to us, that it might live in us, that it might transform our hearts and minds. And we pray that we might rejoice, acknowledge God’s goodness in our life, and respond with lives of wholehearted gratitude.
God’s grace may not be fair, but it is amazing. It finds us, saves us, relieves our fears, and leads us home to God’s embrace. Thanks be to God!