A friend of mine describes coming to terms as a little girl with the sad thought that she would never be God’s favorite. Knowing that God had so many children, knowing that good fathers love equally, she knew her hope of being the favorite was never going to pan out.

When I first heard her say this, I smiled at the idea of a little girl worrying so seriously about God’s fairness and how it affected her. God is much more often accused of being un-fair. But the more I thought about my friend’s disappointment, the more I think this is exactly the difficulty most of us have with God—although most of us will never admit it. The unguarded sincerity of a child voices what we do not: If we are being honest, no one really wants to be seen as equal to all others.

The desire to be someone’s favorite, to the best at something, to exceed the expectations of those around us, or to be known for being better than most—at anything—has been fostered within us since birth. New mothers happily report when their toddlers are in the highest percentile in motor, social, or language skills. A child delights in winning the spelling bee; employees strive to get ahead, to be noticed, to be superior. At every turn, we are as horrified by equality as we are at mediocrity. Even if the desires remain unvoiced, we want to be the best at something. We long to be someone’s—anyone’s—favorite.

For souls in tune with this quality, there is one story Jesus tells that probably disturbs us more than others. In this parable, Jesus describes a landowner who went out in the morning and hired workers for his vineyard. All agreed upon a wage of a denarius, they were sent to the vineyard, and the work began. A few hours later, the master went out and hired more laborers for his vineyard. A few hours after this, again a few hours later, and yet again after this, he hired some more. When evening came, the owner of the vineyard called the workers forward to collect their wages, beginning with the last ones hired and going on to the first. Jesus explains, “The workers who were hired about the eleventh hour came and each received a denarius. So when those came who were hired first, they expected to receive more. But each one of them also received a denarius. When they received it, they began to grumble against the landowner. ‘These men who were hired last worked only one hour,’ they said, ‘and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the work and the heat of the day’” (Matthew 20:9-12).

Equality in this story is nothing short of offensive. Those who have worked harder and longer want only to be recognized, favored for their work, commended for their superiority over the others. But the landowner only responds with words that further offend: “‘Friend, I am not being unfair to you. Didn’t you agree to work for a denarius? Take your pay and go. I want to give the man who was hired last the same as I gave you. Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?’” (vv. 13-15).

In this difficult parable, Jesus gives us a clear look at our definitions of injustice, our sense of superiority, and our hatred of God’s fairness when it fails to favor us. When generosity is showered on someone else, when equality shatters our sense of being on top, God’s goodness often elicits not goodness, but envy, hostility, disappointment, and anger. But the master reminds his disgruntled workers that he did exactly what was promised. It was only when they compared themselves to the others that they began to feel slighted.

Jesus proclaims the coming of a kingdom that turns this world as we know it on its head and requires a complete reframing of perspective. God’s grace is not meant to be a source of disappointment nor is God’s kingdom meant to be a hierarchy of skill and favoritism. On the contrary, God reminds us that greatness comes in ways that shock and disorient our many rules and systems. For God’s grace bestowed at any hour is generous and confrontational, the power of the Cross is scandalous and underserved, the love of the Father always boldly given and lavished. Receiving the generosity of the master, we are united with the Son in whom God is well-pleased. In his economy, we are made heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ himself. And there is no greater favoritism.

Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.