St. John’s Lutheran Church
Albany, New York
20 September 2026 + The Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost
Proper 20 / Lectionary 25a
Matthew 20:1-16; Jonah 3:10–4:11
The Rev. Josh Evans

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It’s September –
a mere two days away from fall proper –
and that can only mean one thing:
It’s time for Josh’s annual rewatching
of Gilmore Girls.

Rory Gilmore’s future is bright
when she gets accepted
into the prestigious Chilton Preparatory School in Hartford,
but it’s clear that her humble upbringing in nearby (fictional) Stars Hollow,
despite her own mother coming from money,
is no match for her entitled classmates
who question her belonging:
What’s she doing here?
Who does she think she is?
It’s not right.
It’s not fair.

It’s not fair.

What is it with our preoccupation
with “fairness”?

I worked hard for what I have!
Why are they getting a handout?

I did everything I was supposed to!
Why should they get a free pass?

We worked all day!
Why should they get the same pay as we do?

It’s not fair.

You know it’s a good parable
when it makes people mad.

It seems simple enough:
The landowner goes out “early in the morning,”
hires some laborers,
and agrees to pay them a set wage –
which is exactly what they end up receiving.
Fair enough.

But then,
the landowner also goes back out
at nine o’clock,
and again at noon,
and again at three o’clock,
and again at five o’clock,
and does the same thing.

Why didn’t the second, third, fourth, and fifth shifts
get there earlier?
Our minds race to conclusions:
They overslept. They’re lazy.
They didn’t work hard enough.

But the story doesn’t tell us any of that –
only “no one has hired us.”
We have just as much reason to suspect
they were there just as early as the others,
but somehow overlooked,
ready to work
but simply not chosen –
until they are,
and then as eager to work
as the others.

Finally,
everyone clocks out for the day,
and they all line up to receive their pay.

“He’s starting with the fifth shift?”
the first shift grumbles…
until they notice they’re getting a denarius too,
“Maybe we’ll get even more!”
they eagerly anticipate.

It had to feel like a slap in the face.
“We have borne the burden of the day
and the scorching heat!”
We deserve more.
It’s not fair!

You know it’s a good parable
when it makes people mad.

It defies our expectations.
It upsets the status quo.
It’s absurd,
and it’s infuriating.
It’s not fair.

“It’s like I didn’t even need to go to Nineveh!”
Jonah protests,
in his pissy little pity party.
“Isn’t this what I said before?
For I knew that you are a gracious and merciful God!
Couldn’t you have made that point
without dragging me into this mess?”
It’s not fair.

Jonah knew –
in theory –
and now Jonah knows:

God’s grace and mercy
supersede our pettiness
and subvert our expectations
of what is “fair.”

I suspect that Jonah actually needed to go to Nineveh
more than Nineveh needed to hear Jonah’s message.

Because Jonah’s problem
isn’t simply that God is merciful.

It’s that God is merciful
to them,
to those people.

Like the laborers’ problem
isn’t simply that the others get paid.

It’s that they get paid
the same –
that those people
get the same wage.

The kingdom of heaven
is like a landowner…
who isn’t “fair,”
as we would conceive it,
but generous,
whose persistence
sends him out,
again and again,
over the course of the day
to make sure everyone has a chance to get what they need.

Everyone gets what they need.
Everyone has a day’s wages to bring home.
Everyone has enough,
and no one goes without.

That should be good news,
but: “You have made them equal to us.”
Translation: “We worked harder, ergo we should get more!”
It’s not fair!
And suddenly, we’ve turned this into a game of merit,
about what we have done,
about what we have earned,
about how hard we worked.

But that’s not how God’s kingdom operates.
That’s not how grace works.

In God’s kingdom,
the last are first,
and the first are last –
turning expectations upside down.

In God’s kingdom,
generosity
and abundance
get the last word –
ensuring everyone has enough,
regardless of who they are
or what they have done
(or not done).

As Jesus has been explaining all along:

Like when he reminds his disciples,
only verses before,
for the second time in as many chapters,
that it is to children that the kingdom of heaven belongs –
those easily overlooked not only for their physical stature
but also for their social standing and perceived lack of value.

And just before this parable,
when he tells the rich young man
who asks him, “What good deed must I do to have eternal life?”
“Go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor” –
reminding us that abundance is not something to be hoarded
but is meant to be shared with others,
so that everyone is cared for
and everyone has enough.

Grace isn’t “fair.”
It is abundant,
and generous,
and persistent.

Grace is for those who think they’re worthy
and those who don’t.

Grace is for those we think “deserve” it
and those we don’t.

Grace is for all.
Grace is for us.

It’s not fair –
thank God.