Are things ever fair? Well, maybe at a carnival, with cotton candy. But in daily interactions there is more lopsidedness than at a three legged race. The variations in body sizes, bank accounts, and physical challenges all reek of unfairness. 

 

But who said it was supposed to be, anyway? 

 

The minister this week retold the story about workers in a vineyard. At different times, he invited children to cut a branch of grapes and carry it to the baskets across the room. For some, this was easy. For others it took both hands. The first crew had been promised a gold coin, while later recruits were simply told they would be paid. In the end, everyone was given the same reward. No one balked, perhaps because children are not as obsessed with money as adults. Now, if he had handed out bigger and smaller cookies, he might have gotten push back.  

 

The parable is a chance to look at our reaction to disparity. People told their own stories about grumbling over the ebbs and flows of abundance that keep us guessing. Heck, the world just spent half a month biting their nails over the Olympics, which are designed to celebrate winners and losers. Well, they don't celebrate the losers so much. 

 

My mind wandered to the affairs at my house which are not, and will never be, fair. Benjamin gets to coast without the sweat of a full time job, while his siblings show up to earn a paycheck. I thought it was God's sense of humor that sent us identical twins after him, those anomalies of life that seem to play into our desire for equanimity. Yet, even after twelve years of identical clothes and schooling, our girls defy sameness. 

 

Then there is death. Some of us lose a loved one after a few years, while others get to luxuriate in a lengthy life. Seems pretty unfair to me. 

 

Yet I have a strong sense that when each of us wakes up in the blinding light of heaven, things like how tall we were, and how fat our pockets were, and even how many wrinkles we had, will matter less than tickets to a fair that left town.