Growing up in a large, traditional, farming family has its advantages. When the crop is ready for harvest, the whole family is out in the field working together. They do not work at the same pace. Dad and big brother would be in the field very early while little sister is still asleep. Mom and little sister would join them in the farm later. You see, dad and big brother go to work without breakfast but little sister would not go anywhere without breakfast. When she finally arrives in the farm she is more interested in asking silly questions and distracting the workers than in the work itself. At the end of the day all go home happy together. Supper is prepared and served. Does anyone suggest that you eat as much as you have worked? Not at all! Often the same little sister who did the least work is pampered with the best food. Yet no one complains, no one is jealous, and everyone is happy.

In today's gospel we hear of a harvest in which some workers put in more work than others. When pay time comes, they are all treated equally and the early birds among them begin to complain and grumble. Why do the workers in the vineyard complain and grumble whereas the workers in the family farm do not? The answer is simple. One group of workers is made up of family members and the other of unrelated individuals drawn from the wider society. The norms of behaviour, of contribution and reward, in a family are different from those in the wider society. The big question that the parable poses to us in the church today is, “Do we see ourselves as family with a common purpose or do we see ourselves as a bunch of individuals, each with their own agenda? We call ourselves brothers and sisters. Why then do we often see and treat one another as rivals and competitors?

For the early-bird workers who ended up being reprimanded by the landowner it was all a business affair. Their working in the vineyard was preceded by a well spelt-out contract regarding their wages: a full day’s work for a full day’s pay. The latecomers were less legalistic in their approach. They took the job trusting in the landowner’s word of honour. “He said to them, ‘You go into the vineyard too, and whatever is right I will give you.’ So they went” (Matthew 20:4). In fact, those employed in the sixth, ninth and eleventh hours were told nothing whatsoever about payment. “He said to them, ‘Why do you stand here idle all day?’ They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You go into the vineyard too’” (verses 6-7). There is no employer-employee contract here. Everything is based on trust. The Johnny-come-lately workers approached the work with a family spirit. Who makes contracts before they can work in a family business?

Matthew probably addressed this parable to his fellow Jewish Christians. God called them a long time ago to build the kingdom of God. Now, at an apparently late hour, God was calling the Gentiles to work with them in building up the same divine kingdom. It would be wrong for the early-bird Jewish people to see the Johnny-come-lately Gentiles as deserving of a lower status than themselves “who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat” (verse 12). Probably the problem of Matthew's Jewish audience was their difficulty in seeing that God was intent on building, in Christ, a kingdom where all peoples -- Jews and Gentiles -- would be family.

The notion of the kingdom of God as family is central to understanding this parable. The kingdom of God is a family more than a society. A society is characterised by we-and-them, by rivalry and survival of the fittest. A family, on the other hand, is all we and no them. It is characterised by a spirit of co-operation rather than competition. If the latecomers were family members of the early birds, the early birds would have rejoiced with them at their good fortune rather than grumbling. Today we are called upon to review our all too legalistic notion of the kingdom of God and see it more as a family where we are happy to expect from everyone according to their means and give to each according to their need -- as God our Father does.