Envious

I'm sitting in the lobby and cafe area of a Durham hotel, snacking on a lite dinner. The only way into this cafe/living space is by card entry or the hotel's front door. A knock at the door was quickly responded to by another guest at a nearby table. After all, it was pouring rain. However, once the family made their way in, it seemed fairly evident they weren't guests. Their conversation was audibly louder than those in the lobby. I could tell the couple who let them in was pondering the same thing. I had been there almost 4 days now and all I had seen were basically working professionals. This motley crew, on the other hand, looked perhaps like a mom, three young children, and a teenager. The meal hostess came out from the kitchen and when she saw them she greeted them warmly and shared hugs all around. They were somehow related or part of her family. "Great," I thought to myself while enjoying a quiet snack. "I bet they showed up just for a free dinner."
Well, It turns out that's exactly what they did. But, almost as soon as I felt that thought escape from my conscience, I felt embarrassed and ashamed. It turns out, I was there for the exact same thing. It was an evening hospitality dinner for hotel guests as a way of making you feel at home. I had not paid for it, nor was I entitled to this pleasant hotel amenity. On top of that, the generous philanthropy of James B. Duke was paying for 80% of my stay.
What is it inside of us that lends us so quickly to rush to jealousy or flirt with entitlement? Luckily, if we take a moment to consider our response, we'll often discover the issue has more to do with grace - a concept we are far from comfortable with. At times, it seems the Church, myself included, considers grace to be a scarce commodity rather than a sustainable resource.
I've always thought the parable of the laborers to be a remarkable gift in the way it pierces our human condition and offers a glimpse of God's nature. "Or is your eye evil, because I am good?" Today it pierced me.