Brief synopsis of the readings: We read in the prophet Isaiah that God should be sought. “Let the scoundrel forsake his way, and the wicked his thoughts; let him turn to the LORD for mercy; to our God, who is generous in forgiving.” God then tells us that his thoughts and ways are not like ours. In Matthew’s Gospel Jesus tells a parable about a vineyard owner. At harvest time he hired some workers for a set pay. At hours three, six, nine and eleven he went out and hired other workers promising them fair wages. At the end of the day he paid the last workers first and gave them the full day’s wages. Those who worked longer then expected they would be given more than they were told and were disappointed when they were given only what they agreed. When they complained the vineyard owner replied that they should not be jealous of his generosity. “Thus, the last will be first, and the first will be last.”

I sometimes wonder what the world would look like if God were fair, if he treated all of us the same. The idea of fairness comes to us early in life and we carry it with us long into adulthood. We admire the wisdom of the mother who splits an apple between 2 children: one slices the apple in half and the other chooses (thereby insuring that the 1st child will cut with absolute precision). I have a friend who grew up with one other sibling. Their grandparents would give them several Christmas presents; at the end they would total up the cost of the presents and write a check to the one who got the least to “even things up.”

In my time in hospice I had occasion to see how children in their 50s reacted badly to their parents’ will. There were times when they would go into excruciating detail over how they didn’t get their fair share. At some point it became obvious that they felt their share reflected how loved they were, and frankly it could be painful to watch.

And so given our obsession with fairness, how are we to judge the vineyard owner? When he was generous with the last workers shouldn’t he have also been equally generous to those who worked the full day? How did the part timers rate?

Well, truthfully, we are told in Isaiah that our ways are not God’s ways. It’s right there in black and white. It’s not comfortable to think about this but God treats us with justice and mercy, even if it doesn’t always seem fair. Justice and mercy aren’t simply “fairness on steroids,” it’s a whole different thing, and thank God for that.

The late writer Fr. Andrew Greeley often commented that the only promise God ever broke was the promise to destroy us if we didn’t remain faithful. Time and again we’ve ignored God’s call to faithfulness and time and time again God forgave us. While we’re on the subject, if God were simply fair, if we got what we deserved, how would we ever be given the Eucharist? Or eternal life? What was fair to the apostles who abandoned Jesus on Good Friday?

If fairness finds its roots in sameness (treating everyone the same), justice and mercy find their roots in love. And while fairness requires little on our part, if we are to treat others with justice and mercy we need to know who they are and what they need. This may sound like a strange analogy but bear with me. I once met a man who was a pitching coach in major league baseball. When the pitcher is in a jam but it’s not time to take him out of the game the pitching coach will often visit pitcher’s mound. With some pitchers he gives words of encouragement, telling the pitcher that he can get out of this jam with one pitch. With others he reminds them that if they’re not interested in putting in the work they can find another pitcher who would be happy to come into the game.

Why the difference? He explained that different pitchers have different needs and while he is looking for the same result he uses different methods to get them there. He told me that while he needed to understand the mechanics of pitching he also needed to know his pitchers. He needed to put in the time to get to know who they were and what they needed. Was it love? Perhaps not but it was certainly on that road; he certainly spoke of them with affection.

I worry sometimes that our obsession with fairness allows us to avoid the hard work of learning to care about and love one another. Whether we’re dealing with our children our employees or our peer group there are no shortcuts to learning about them. That process will allow us to see them as individuals. Obviously this is a gross simplification: we (hopefully) already love our children and we do love our friends but not necessarily our employees. But when Jesus speaks of love he speaks more globally and the road to understanding other leads eventually to love.

And of our day workers in the vineyard? Other than the fact that they needed to work we know nothing of them. And I think if we’re being honest we assume they’ve been just hanging around, or at least don’t have the work ethic of those who worked all day. But what if it’s not? What if the vineyard owner knew that some of them elderly and could no longer work a full day? Or had a family member needed more care? Perhaps they spent part of the day at a smaller vineyard where the owner couldn’t afford to pay them for the whole day.

Finally, speaking only for myself, I’m glad that since God knows all my thoughts and actions he isn’t always fair with me.