Sisters & brothers, grace to you and peace from our overly-generous God, the counter-intuitive Christ, and the ever-surprising Spirit. Amen.

“Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?” This is the question the vineyard landowner asks the workers who had been hired at daybreak for the usual daily wage. They are miffed, they are ticked, they are … well … you know what they are.

What kind of a business owner is this? Doesn’t he know the basics of incentive and reward? Time plus effort equals production, and production equals pay! The hardest workers who were hired first and who have been hanging around all day deserve to be paid first and most.

The workers hired at daybreak had expectations. They felt entitled to more than those who joined them at 5 PM and only worked one hour. So the owner of the vineyard names their “stuff,” and calls them on their complaining.

Yes, everyone gets paid the same. Everyone gets paid the usual daily wage for work in the vineyard. But “am I now allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?”

And we know what the answer is: Yes, we are envious. Yes, we are ticked off. Yes, we think we have more coming to us.

I think we get what Jesus is trying to teach us in this morning’s little story about how it is with God, how life IS in the reign of God, and we don’t like it one bit.

We who consider ourselves cradle Christians — born, baptized, nurtured in faith, communed, confirmed, and consistently in the courts of the Lord’s house — we think we have a little more coming our way, we think we have earned ourselves a little extra credit “upstairs”, we think we’re all that and a bowl of chips and that God ought to take special notice of us.

Well, God takes special notice of US all right, even as God takes special notice of the one who just pulled in, the one who’s gotten overlooked and passed-up-on all along: the outsiders, the forgotten, the lonely, those whom no else wants (let alone notices), we’re all well within God’s gracious purview, we’re all within God’s caring gaze, we’re all upon God’s loving heart.

But that’s not fair, that’s too generous, and we don’t like it one bit.

“And when (those hired first) received (their daily wage), they grumbled against the landowner, saying “These last worked only one hour, and (here it comes!) you have made them equal to US who have borne the burden…..(borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat).”

We who think we have borne the burden – the burden of keeping the church running, the burden of doing all the work around here, the burden of our baptismal calling to “bear God’s creative and redeeming word to all the world,” find it just a little annoying that God would be just as generous, just as loving, just as forgiving, just as merciful to those who have not borne the burden as much as WE have.

It reminds me of the dining room hostess who called out the name of the perturbed person who had been waiting by themselves for their own table: “Bitter, party of one!”

Sounds like Jonah in this morning’s first reading. “Bitter, party of one, Jonah” is angry that God has changed God’s mind about wiping out the city of Nineveh. Since the people had turned from their evil, God turned from God’s intentions to bring punishment upon them, and that really ticked Jonah off. Jonah is upset with God for deciding to be “gracious, merciful, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love, and READY TO RELENT FROM PUNISHING.” Jonah would rather see a vengeful God, a God who gives people what they deserve, a God who — like Santie Claus — is “makin’ a list, checkin’ it twice, who’s gonna find out who’s naughty or nice” and then send the naughty people straight to H-E-double toothpick.

The words of the prayer of the day remind us that God shows perpetual lovingkindness, grants us his merciful — not vengeful — judgment, and trains us to “embody the generosity” of God’s Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

Embodying the generosity of God in Jesus is always going to be a challenge for us, because we can never do it as well with each other as God does with us. But that’s no excuse for not trying and failing, trying and failing, and trying again and again until we get better at it.

Our hymn of the day, the song we are about to sing, isn’t in the hymnal. It was proposed to be included in the our new worship book, but didn’t make the cut past the “Renewing Worship” songbook, and I’m told by reliable sources that it was felt that it went a little too far in its depiction of the gracious breadth and depth of God’s welcoming embrace of all in Jesus Christ. “Too inclusive, too extravagant, & too universal” was the charge. They were right, and that’s exactly the point.

When we heard the promise of God’s forgiveness as we gathered in worship, the words were not for some, they were for all — whether you have spent a lifetime confessing your sins or asked forgiveness for the very first time.

When you come to the table a few minutes from now to receive a piece of bread and a sip of wine, the distribution is not selective. It is for all who come, with hands outstretched, young and old, deeply contrite or half-sorry, those who come hand-in-hand with their best friend Jesus and those who are barely on speaking terms with him.

Like the owner of the vineyard, God is not worried about how much and how long and how hard you’ve worked. God just wants you in the vineyard and at the table.

There to receive not what you’re owed, not what you deserve, not what you’ve got coming, but what God — in Christ Jesus — wants to give you freely.
This is God’s doing, and like it or not, we’re all invited to God’s ever-widening table of mercy and grace. May we welcome everyone who joins us at the table, even as we have been so generously and extravagantly welcomed.

Amen.