Open our hearts, O Lord
Some thoughts around the readings this weekend.
He sent them into his vineyard
The landowner hires his workers, negotiates a daily wage, and sends them into the field. He returns to the marketplace several times throughout the mid-day and afternoon to hire and send. At the end of the day he calls them for payment. They watch as the ones who had only worked for an hour got the full day’s payment. Surely, they think, this means we’re getting more. They do not get more. They get the same as the the latecomers. This is, one of them points out, manifestly unfair. We bore the day’s burden and heat and yet you made them our equals in terms of payment.
Unfair? asks the landowner. Did we not negotiate terms before you began? All has been done justly - the worker has received his promised wage before the day’s end. Nothing has been withheld. I am free, reminds the landowner, to do what I want with my own money.
As high as the heavens
One of the two most common ways of reading this passage is to pencil in “The People of Israel” for the all-day crew and the “the Gentiles” for the latecomers. Our Lord uses this parable to show that the Kingdom of God is, radically, open to all, and not just the Jews, who have ‘born the day’s burden’ one way or another since Sinai.
The second way is to regard the day’s labor as a human lifespan. Converting to God can happen at any time throughout a life, and the reward is the same: eternal life. What’s important isn’t when the worker arrives, but rather that the worker arrives, having answered the call in the marketplace. He is, as the Psalmist reminds us, near to all who call him.
Isaiah reminds us to Seek the Lord while he may be found. Do not wait. Seek. Actively search, even up to the final moment of life on this side of the veil. He will meet you, and restore you to your place.
Does this scandalize us? I think sometimes it does. It feels manifestly unfair that one who commits heinous crimes in life can, on a deathbed, experience the grace of true conversion. Why should we bother living a good life at all if we can just turn it all over at the last second? We do the right things because we were told to and because, with God’s grace - and only with God’s grace - they turn out to not be so burdensome after all. We do it to form the habits, to develop the muscle memory needed to open ourselves to more of the grace which them drives us to the work, and so on. We hold out hope for the worst of sinners so we do not despair of ourselves, especially as we call that as He is Mercy, so is He also Justice. Mercy will be given, and Justice will be done, to all of us.
Caught between the two
What would things look like if the parable were turned inside out, if the first workers rejoiced every time new laborers entered the field and they gathered to congratulate the latecomers on their good fortune. If instead of grumbling, there was rejoicing in the generosity of the landowner? Look at what you have received, says the morning crew. The same as us! Isn’t it wonderful?
It sounds fantastic but it’s honestly what goes on every year in OCIA. People from all stations of life: young, old, married, single. They come with questions and the workers - our catechists - rejoice and share everything they have with an eye towards the fullness of faith, communion, the Eucharist. Adults come to OCIA with adult questions and they bring their experiences of life with them. They’re met by other adults who are at work in the vineyard. They’re welcomes, “shown the ropes,” and folded into the community. What they receive is far more than any wage, and we really can’t say that any of us have ‘earned’ it as such. The analogy gets a bit wobbly, but I think the point still stands: no one is begrudged a late arrival, and everyone shares the joy of God’s grace, drawing them to the field in answer to a call, a summons. You, too go into my vineyard.
Near to all who call
No one in their right mind would be upset to see neophytes approaching the altar, saying “Unfair! Why do they get to? We’ve been here for years!” We’d laugh them out of the room, and rightfully so. When you receive Christ, you receive everything. No receives more for having gotten there early; no one receives less for arriving late in the day.
There’s no more or less of God. There’s not even too early, though it’s possible to be too late. Crossing the threshold and all that. Paul urges us to magnify Christ in life or death. In life by fruitful labor; in death by gaining Christ, but we must fix our wills on Him now while we can.
It is never too late in life to do so in answer to His call. Conversion is a process, not a destination. Every day we can turn again towards the vineyard and go to work.
The master is generous and waits for our response.