I was there that day -- the day he told that story. I was there, and I can tell you that many of us were not happy. When we first heard that he was coming to our village, there was a stirring of excitement. There had been rumors about him circulating in the area, and several people had heard him in other places. Of course it didn’t hurt that there seemed to be a rift between him and the religious leaders in Jerusalem. A little controversy goes a long way in creating interest. So on the day he arrived in the center of the village there was a large crowd gathered to greet him.

Things started off well enough. The way Jesus tells a story, it is easy to think it is just nice and sweet and harmless. But it has a way of sneaking up on you when you aren’t looking, until it has somehow gotten under your skin. It is not an altogether pleasant experience.

“Let me tell you about what God is doing in the world,” is what he said. Of course we all wanted to hear about that. It’s always nice when someone tells you that you are on the right track and God is on your side. And since that is exactly what we thought God was doing in our world, we sat back and settled in for a pleasant afternoon of stories. But it was only a matter of moments before that particular illusion was shattered. At first we were just confused. He said he was going to tell us about the kingdom of heaven, but instead he started talking about a vineyard owner with labor problems. Soon, however, our confusion turned to disgust, when it became apparent that he was promoting some sort of outrageous practice of paying everyone the same, regardless of whether they were hard workers or lazy, good-for-nothing slobs. I work hard to feed my family, and I don’t have to sit there while someone tries to tear down the value of honest labor and glorify those who only know how to take advantage of the system. A ripple of grumbling moved through the crowd as people began to hear what he was saying.

But then things got even stranger. Not because Jesus said anything different, but because we began to grasp what he was really talking about. He really was telling us about the kingdom of heaven -- about how God works in the world. And as that realization began to sink in, I wasn’t sure what to think or feel. It was bad enough when I thought he was talking about labor practices, but now it turns out he really thought this is the way God treats us. We had all been Jews our whole lives, as had our parents been and their parents before them, for farther back than anyone could remember. Working hard in God’s vineyard was what we had always done. And now this young preacher was trying to tell us that it didn’t matter -- that even some Gentile could come along at the last minute and get the same treatment from God that we have worked so hard to earn. That just couldn’t be right. Where was the justice in that? It’s not fair! What would be the point of being God’s Chosen People?

I have to tell you, I was angry and defiant and outraged as I walked away that afternoon. I was certain that this Jesus person was just plain wrong, and equally certain that the authorities in Jerusalem were right in being concerned about what he was trying to teach. But they didn’t really have to worry. After all, who would really listen to this sort of teaching anyway? Let’s just say I went home in a pretty cocky sort of mood, ready to just put the whole ugly encounter behind me.

So why did it keep bothering me? I just kept thinking about it. Days later I still couldn’t quite let go of it. As I said, he had a way of sneaking up on you and getting under your skin. There was something about that story that kept nagging at the edges of my thoughts. And then one night I came awake and realized what it was. My wife must have thought I was possess by spirits. I sat up in bed and shouted, “Of course!”

I had spent my whole life thinking about my life in comparison to someone else’s life. Things were fair not only if I got what I thought I deserved, but also if no one else got it unless they deserved it. It was so much a part of the fabric of life I didn’t even realize I thought about it that way. Everyone thought that way. It was just the way things were.

Jesus’ story was pointing to an entirely different way of thinking about what was fair. And to get there, I had to let go of the need to compare. If I had enough to eat, and my family had enough to eat, then what did it matter to me if someone else also got enough to eat, even if they didn’t “earn it” the way I thought they should? It just wasn’t my business. If my life was rich and meaningful, then why should I object if that same joy came to someone else? I had spent so long thinking I was special by also thinking that someone else wasn’t special. What if I could start enjoying my life just because it was a good life, and not because it was somehow a better life than someone else’s?

There was a lot to think about and I still wasn’t sure I liked it. If Jesus was right, then there were a whole lot of things I had just grown up believing that I would need to leave behind -- like earning God’s love and believing in God just so I’d be rewarded and always worrying about what someone else was getting that I wasn’t. But it was worth at least thinking about. It sure got under my skin. Jesus has a way of doing that.