The penny wasn’t actually the problem.
The men weren’t angry that they were paid less than they had been promised. They got exactly what they had agreed to. The penny only became a problem when they saw what somebody else received.
Matthew 20 begins with Jesus telling his disciples about a man who owned a vineyard. He needed work done one day and went out to hire help. “He agreed with the labourers for a penny a day,” and sent them into the vineyard. These first workers knew exactly what they were working for—one penny for the day’s work. As the parable goes on, the householder hires more and more workers; some at the third hour, some at the sixth and ninth hours, and even more are hired at the eleventh hour. And to each group of men, the householder agrees to pay “whatsoever is right.” (Matthew 20:4, 7)
At the end of the day, the workers hired at first have put in a full day’s work. Those hired at the eleventh hour have barely worked a full hour when evening comes.
You can imagine those ‘first-hour’ hires: they’re tired, sweaty, dirty, but happy to have put in a full day of hard work.
The end of the day comes and it’s now time to settle up and pay out the wages. Jesus describes the scene for us— ‘call the men and pay them,’ the master says to his steward, ‘and pay them out last to first.’
At the front of the line stood men who had worked only an hour. Yet when they stepped forward to receive their wages—they each received a penny.
Now imagine watching that from the back of the line after putting in a full day’s work. As the line progresses, they see that every man in front of them is receiving a penny.
Finally, it comes to the end of the line and time for the first-hour hires to be paid. And the Bible says, “they supposed that they should have received more.” (Matthew 20:10)
They supposed.
They thought they would have been given more. Why? Had the householder made a new promise with them? Had their original agreement changed? No.
We don’t know whether the other men complained. But those who did complain were the very men with whom the householder had kept his agreement.
I have some questions for those men. Because apparently a penny would have been sufficient. They agreed, from the very beginning, to work all day for a penny.
Nothing about that penny had changed.
The only difference was that now they knew what somebody else received.
And I wonder, would they have been content if they had never known what those eleventh-hour workers had received? What if the steward had paid the first-hour hires first and then allowed them to go home and prop up their feet after a long day’s work?
Would they have complained if they hadn’t known?
The penny was enough to hire them. It was enough as they were working hard. I don’t see where anyone quit halfway through the day because a penny wasn’t enough. It’s not like somebody sent Jerry to organize the local United Vineyard Workers and renegotiate the contract.
The penny was enough until they looked.
What happens when we look?
Imagine you just bought your first home—sure, it’s small, but it’s yours. You’ve painted it, decorated it, planted flowers and thanked God for it... Until you walked into hers. Then you began counting bedrooms. Then you began noticing what your house doesn’t have. But wait—what about your house has changed? Nothing.
Maybe it’s not the house. Finish your own thought—
I was pleased with my progress until I saw...I was encouraged by my child’s accomplishment until I learned...I was thankful for my opportunity until I realized...
Would you still consider your portion small if you couldn’t see hers?
And there is something more underneath this story.
When we keep reading, we find the complaint of the first-hour workers: “These last have wrought but one hour, and thou hast made them equal unto us, which have borne the burden and heat of the day.” (Matthew 20:12)
Thou hast made them equal unto us.
That’s really the complaint here, isn’t it?
They weren’t complaining that the last workers received more. They were complaining that the last workers received the same.
We worked longer. We worked harder. We toiled in the heat of the day. Surely that should set us apart. Surely my work should count for more.
If they receive the same penny without all the same hard work, without the callouses and sweat—does that mean that my work wasn’t as valuable as I thought?
But friend, did you want the penny, or did you want proof of your worth?
Do we want the blessings or do we want what we think the blessing will prove about ourselves?
Then look how the master responds— “Friend, I do thee no wrong: didst not thou agree with me for a penny?” (Matthew 20:13)
The workers are holding up their penny and measuring it against someone else’s. But the master pulls them away from that comparison and asks, ‘have I wronged you?’
What if we asked ourselves that question? Has God wronged me?
Why does God’s goodness to someone else suddenly cancel out His goodness to me?
“Is thine eye evil, because I am good?” the master asks. (Matthew 20:15)
He was good to the first-hour workers. He hired them. He honored his agreement. He paid them exactly what he promised.
Was he good to the eleventh-hour workers also? Yes, he was.
The master’s character didn’t change. The agreement didn’t change. The value of the penny didn’t change.
Maybe the problem wasn’t the penny. Maybe it’s where they were looking.
...but they measuring themselves by themselves, and comparing themselves among themselves, are not wise. — 2 Corinthians 10:12
I keep coming back to this verse in my thoughts lately. It feels nigh impossible to go through a day and not be pulled away by seeing someone or something that causes me to compare my own life and feel inadequate sometimes. But comparison is not wise!
Another woman is a faulty measuring instrument for my own life.
Sometimes I fear we walk around with these invisible scorecards. We look at our possessions, our successes and think, ‘+1 me.’ But then we see someone doing better than us and our minds think, ‘+1 her and -1 me.’
I think we give ourselves imaginary points for sacrificing more. For working longer. I’ve paid my dues. Surely that should mean something. Surely that should distinguish me somehow.
Why do we do that? Why do we fuel envy and strife? The blessings that God gives another woman is not proof that He has withheld something good from me.
Her +1 does not equal my -1.
Her success is not my failure.
And here’s the thing—our scorecards may never be equal. The answer to the comparison trap isn’t pretending our lives are equal. They’re not. She may really be blessed abundantly and I may really have to suffer loss.
But I don’t need her scorecard to interpret my own.
I don’t need to count her pennies to receive the blessing of the pennies I’ve been given.
And if I stopped counting her pennies, I could receive mine gladly.
I could rejoice in small blessings. I could stop checking numbers or keeping score. I could stop requiring someone else’s life to tell me what mine means.
The penny was enough until they looked.
What has God given you that was enough—until you looked?
