Do you have an evil eye?

In our Gospel today (Matthew 20:1-16a), a landowner goes out at dawn, nine o’clock, noon, three o’clock, and five o’clock to hire day laborers for his vineyard. That’s already very strange. Why doesn’t the landowner delegate this task to his foreman? (We know he has one because later in the story, a foreman does enter the scene.) Stranger still is how all the laborers get the exact same pay no matter how long they worked.

A lady I study the Bible with commented, “If you do this in the corporate world, you are asking for trouble.” She’s right… but this Gospel passage isn’t meant to be a blueprint for HR policy. This is a parable about the Kingdom of Heaven. Even so, this can challenge us to make our workplaces look a little more like God’s reign.

Many corporations in the S&P 500 index have CEO-to-worker pay ratios in the hundreds—and even thousands—to one. Based on publicly available data which S&P firms are required to file, one restaurant leader earned 31 million dollars in 2025 while a median employee received only around 17 thousand dollars. (I leave it up to you to search the Internet to find out what company this is and who its CEO is.) To put that into perspective, for every dollar a member of the frontline staff was compensated, the top executive got $1,794. And that’s not the worst figure. One automotive manufacturer has a pay gap in the millions to one. (You can probably guess what car company this is.)

Now, I can understand why a CEO is given a higher salary. The responsibility is immense, the pressure is constant, and there is competition for talent. But paying somebody in the corner office thousands—or even millions—of times more than those who keep the business running daily feels scandalous. The more that flows to the top, the less remains for those at the bottom.  

I mentioned S&P above. A bit of trivia that would be funny if it weren’t so tragic: S&P stands for Standard and Poor.

The economic landscape I just described was not the situation during Jesus’ time, but the reality back then was no less dire. There were day laborers standing at street corners, enduring the blistering sun, and worrying about getting work. If no one hired them, they would have no food for their families that night.

Why did the vineyard owner in our parable pay everyone the full daily wage regardless of how many hours they toiled? It was because no matter how long they labored, they and their families still needed to eat. The master was not measuring their output; he was providing for their daily bread.

The early-morning crew grumbled against both the owner and the late arrivals. To paraphrase their grievance: “How are we equal to those who put in only a single hour? We bore the day’s burden and heat!”

But the landowner recognized that each person he called was equal in need. Another member of my Bible study group realized, “I would rather be under the sun working than under the sun but not working.” I couldn’t agree more. Those left waiting until five o’clock might not have been carrying heavy baskets of grapes, but they bore an even heavier burden: the agonizing anxiety of having no food to bring home that night. They weren’t lounging around lazily the whole day. In my imagination, they were pacing up and down the street, desperate to offer their strength, if only someone would give them a chance.

Now, wouldn’t the vineyard owner have avoided trouble if he had paid those he hired at dawn first? They would have left after getting their wages and would have never known how much the others were paid. But the master wanted them to see what he was doing because he was also a teacher.

What did the landowner want these workers to learn?

The version of the story we hear at Mass has the master asking the disgruntled laborers, “Are you envious because I am generous?” A more literal translation of the original Greek can be, “Is your eye evil because I am good?” The “evil eye” was a Jewish idiom about feeling envious or begrudging another person’s good fortune. Why weren’t the early-morning hires happy for the late arrivals? Why didn’t they just say, “Thank God you and your families will eat tonight!”

Envy begins when you see what others have. Behind envy lurks the insidious attitude of “I deserve more.” The “evil eye” is also an eye that blinds. It prevents you from seeing what you have. It blocks you from realizing what others need. We see the same “evil eye” rolling in resentment in the parable of the prodigal son (see Luke 15: 11-32) when the older son confronted his father angrily, “Look, all these years I served you and not once did I disobey your orders; yet you never gave me even a young goat to feast on with my friends.” The older son couldn’t see what he already had. The father had to remind him, “My son, you are here with me always.” The older son couldn’t see what the younger son needed after being hungry for so long—not just a fattened calf but a reassurance of the father’s love.

The “evil eye” of the grumbling workers couldn’t see that they had already received what they were promised. The “evil eye” focused more on what they thought they were entitled to. The “evil eye” was blind to the hunger of the other workers.

Our parable today ends with the vineyard owner telling the disgruntled laborers, “Take what is yours and go.” But in my mind’s eye, the next day, the master himself, not just any foreman, will call them again at dawn. Why not a foreman? A foreman looks for labor, but the master seeks relationships. He will hope that they come to him at once and see that being with the master is already a reward in itself. The longer you are with him, the more blessed you are. If they refuse—because they have realized they can come later and still get the same pay—the master will try to call them again at nine o’clock, at noon… and so on…. The master will try to call them not just five times, but, as we learned last week, seventy-seven times. My proof for this: When the ungrateful workers grumbled against the master, how did the master address them? “My friend.”

Your prayer assignment this week:

The original audience of the Gospel according to Matthew were Jews who had long lived under the Law and borne the responsibility of keeping the covenant. They probably saw themselves as the workers who started laboring at dawn. The workers hired at the “eleventh hour” represented the Gentiles who were entering the Kingdom late. But no matter when they were called to the vineyard, now they were all saved. No one was “more saved” than another. There are no first class or economy seats in the Kingdom. There are no tiers in Heaven.

You probably just guessed our reflection song this week: Eric Clapton’s “Tears in Heaven”. But change “tears” to “tiers.”

Now, imagine the people you have yet to forgive: ex-friends who have hurt you and abused your trust or even politicians who have stolen your taxes and betrayed public trust. If they repent, because of God’s mercy, they can be welcomed into Heaven. Imagine meeting them there.

Imagine them asking you now:

Would you hold my hand
If I saw you in Heaven?
Would you help me stand
If I saw you in Heaven?

If you cross paths then choose to turn away or ignore each other, I think that is not yet Heaven. Why?

Beyond the door
There's peace, I'm sure
And I know there'll be no more
Tiers in Heaven.