MATTHEW 20:1-6

A sermon given on Sunday, September 20, 2026
by the Rev. Canon Heather Blais
Saints, it is good to be with you today.
I serve as Canon to the Ordinary in our diocese.
If you are wondering what that means,
the Bishop is the Ordinary,
because she ordains,
and my work is supporting her ministry.
One of the ways I do that, is by walking
with our churches as they navigate transition.
It’s been a privilege to begin working with
your Senior Warden Becky
as you prepare to call your next priest -
but more on that at the potluck.
On behalf of the Bishop’s office,
I want to express our gratitude.
Thank you your deep love of God,
for the many ways you follow Christ,
for your faithful listening to the Spirit,
for loving one another,
and especially, for loving your neighbors.
Thank you for being the Church, here in Easthampton
at this time and place.
Thank you, for all the ways
you are sharing God’s love with a hungry world.
Today’s gospel lesson stirs up the question of fairness.
A question that weaves through our daily lives in small ways.
Why do they get more?
Why did I have to work harder?
Why do I have to help?
In our text, Jesus is telling a parable
about a landowner operating a vineyard.
Early in the morning,
the landowner goes to the marketplace
and hires laborers,
assuring them they’ll receive the usual daily wage.
In other words - they will receive
what society had deemed fair.
This sounds like a good deal to them,
and off they go to work.
Meanwhile, the landowner keeps noticing
idle workers at the marketplace.
Each time, he stops, hiring more laborers,
offering to ‘pay what is right.’
The landowner hires additional laborers at
9 a.m., noon, 3 p.m. and 5 p.m.
Each time making the same promise.
These laborers had to trust
that their employer walked with integrity.
But the ambiguity of ‘paying what is right’
opened up the possibility
they could be taken advantage of.
Many of us know the experience of taking on a job
only to find out the pay is grossly inadequate.
It is both awkward and frustrating,
and we have to weigh whether it is worth staying.
When it is a matter of survival,
some income to buy daily bread
is better than none at all.
In our parable when evening arrives,
the landowner has his manager
call the laborers in to be paid.
Starting with those hired towards the end of the day,
and ending with those hired early in the morning.
For those hired later in the day,
this is a moment of truth.
How does this landowner
understand ‘paying what is right’?
When the manager offers them their pay,
they are given the usual daily wage.
Irrelevant of what is right by societal norms,
this landowner is guided by another set of principals
that seem to be at odds with the ways of the world.
Each laborer hired to work a partial shift,
is given a full day’s pay.
What an incredible gift;
and something most would have appreciated
knowing they’d not worked for that full wage.
It is easy to understand why those who had
put in a full day’s work in the scorching heat
began to wonder
what their payment might be.
The text does not tell us what they were assuming,
whether it was time and a half, double pay, or something else.
And I don’t know about you,
but I follow their logic.
Assuming my pay might be a whole lot more
since I’d been working all day,
and those hired for an hour
had made the amount
we were initially promised.
And like them, I would have felt a mixture
of frustration and injustice.
It just all seemed so unfair.
Matthew tells us the laborers ‘grumbled’ against the landowner.
Grumbling is such a human response.
When we feel we’ve been wronged -
whether the perceived wrong be small or big -
there is an urgent need
for this wrong to be seen and acknowledged,
if not altogether fixed.
So we grumble.
Can you believe it?
Who do they think they are?
What are they thinking?
If we are showing all our cards,
we can be really good at it.
We know how to grumble in every conceivable way -
in person or by text or phone,
by email or snail mail.
The anonymity of the internet
has enhanced our capacity for grumbling.
Allowing us to gripe
in the shadows behind pseudonyms.
Taking no ownership,
but rather pointing our fingers
towards all conceivable wrongs
challenging someone in power to fix it.
While commiserating might bring a momentary relief,
the overarching feeling of something being unfair continues.
If we are not mindful
about considering the issue from all sides,
that sense of wrong will only build
into something much larger than it is.
In this parable,
the landowner has to decide how to respond.
Will he ignore the grumblings,
putting distance between himself and them,
letting it fester outside of view?
Will he deflect,
shift the blame,
manipulate the laborers
or abuse his power?
No.
Instead, we see the actions of a healthy,
well-differentiated, emotionally intelligent leader.
The landowner is honest,
responding to the concerns directly
so they do not remain in the shadows.
The landowner says:
‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?’
While it is easy for us to get worked up about what is fair,
we can just as easily lose sight
of the fact that fairness is different from equity.
Fairness assumes we are all starting on the same level field,
ignoring real disadvantages.
Equity accounts for these disadvantages,
and aims to help us all arrive at the same place.
While this gospel stirs up our desire for
the allusion of fairness,
it offers us something so much more.
We witness the gifts of grace, mercy, and generosity.
The laborers received payment for something they had not earned.
They did not beg or ask for it. It was freely given,
as an act of mercy, striving towards equity.
These laborers received such grace,
all because of the generosity of this landowner,
who is operating out of abundance.
We are the recipients of so much generosity and grace:
Loved ones unearned patience and understanding.
Friends unearned forgiveness.
Parishioners covering responsibilities that were on our list when life happened, to help support what is best for the whole.
When we step back and take in the bigger picture,
when we pause to consider an issue from all sides
we often can find an abundance of grace and generosity.
This is the love of God.
An unearned, unwavering love
that is all consuming and transforming.
Here at St. Philip’s, you have a warning sign -
Be careful! If you come here, you will grow.
It not only sums up your shared common life,
but a life in relationship with God.
If you enter into a relationship with God,
you will grow.
We will be changed in ways we may find inconceivable,
and it is only later that we realize just how much of an impact
God’s unstoppable love has had on our lives
and on who we are still becoming.
It does not matter whether
we have been in relationship with God
since we were born,
since we were six,
since we were twenty-six
or eighty-six.
In God’s eyes it is our desire to be in a relationship that truly matters.
While it is fun to share who is a longtime Christian
or in the Cradle Episcopal club,
none of that matters in the eyes of God.
It is not how long we labor for the movement of God’s love.
It is that we are here,
that we choose to labor for this movement.
That choice is the great equalizer.
When we move past fairness,
we can see the invitation of this text.
Which is really two choices we get to make,
and repeat countless times throughout each day.
In relationship with God,
will we choose to acknowledge all we have received,
recognizing we, too,
are recipients of God’s grace and mercy?
And in turn, will we choose to live as God lives,
generously offering grace and mercy?
As we prepare to head back out into the world today, I would invite us to continue reflecting on this text in the week ahead.
When have we been the recipients of unmerited kindness? How did that affect us?
When have we chosen to show others kindness, even knowing it comes with a personal cost?
What if instead of mentally noting grumblings this week, we were intentional about instead choosing generosity and gratitude?
In particular, at this moment in your shared common life at St. Philip’s:
What graces have you experienced in this transition?
Where have you seen parishioners choose grace and generosity?
What are you especially grateful for that you want to hold onto in the weeks and months ahead?
Amen.

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