Twenty-Fifth Sunday
in Ordinary Time
A generous God and
a welcoming parish
The Same Work, but
Different Reasons
Most of us know
that the same job can mean very different things to different people. Imagine
three street cleaners having a cup of tea at the end of the day. Someone asks
them, ‘Why do you do this work?’
The first says, ‘It
pays the bills and gives me enough to enjoy life. I am saving for a surfing
trip to Bali.’ The second says, ‘I do it for my family. I want food on the
table and a good education for my children.’ The third says, ‘I want our town
to be a good place to live. I like meeting the people along the way, hearing
their stories, and helping our streets feel cared for.’
All three are doing
the same work. All three are doing something worthwhile. But each one sees the
work through a different window.
God’s Generosity Is
Greater Than Our Measure
That is close to
what Jesus places before us in today’s Gospel. Workers are called into the
vineyard at different hours. Some arrive early and carry the burden of the day.
Others come much later. At the end, the landowner gives each one the same wage.
We can understand why those who started early grumble. We might have felt the
same. ‘Surely, after all these hours, we deserve more.’
But Jesus is not
giving us a lesson in payroll. He is showing us the heart of God. The vineyard
belongs to God, the invitation comes from God, and the reward is God’s gift. No
one earns a larger share of God’s love by having arrived first.
The Parish Is God’s
Vineyard
That speaks
directly to us as a parish, especially as we celebrate fifty years of parish
life. Some people here remember their early days. You helped establish the
community, organize the first gatherings, teach children faith, care for the
grounds, prepare the liturgy, visit the sick, raise funds, and make sure there
was always a cup of tea and someone to welcome a newcomer. Much of that
faithful work was quiet and unseen, but it laid good foundations.
Others have joined
the parish more recently. Some have moved into the area. Some have returned to
Mass after many years. Some may still be wondering whether this is truly home. I
have arrived rather late in the parish story, perhaps at the eleventh hour. Yet
the Gospel says that every one of us is called into the same vineyard and
welcomed by the same generous God.
Holding the Gate
Open for Others
So, our jubilee is
not only a time to look back with gratitude. It is also time to ask what kind
of parish we are becoming. Are we a community where the long-standing
parishioner and the person at Mass for the first time can stand beside one
another? Are we ready to make room for the family that arrives late, the person
who does not know when to sit or stand, the child who makes a little noise, the
grieving person, the lonely person, or the person who is simply trying to find
their way back to God?
Sometimes in parish
life we can begin to think, ‘I have been here longer. I have done more. I know
how things are done.’ Experience is a gift, and faithful service deserves our
gratitude. But experience becomes even more beautiful when it helps another person
find a place. The best way to honour those who built our parish is not to close
the gate behind them. It is to hold the gate open for the next person whom God
is inviting in.
Making Christ
Visible in Our Parish
Saint Paul gives us
another simple measure. He says, ‘For me to live is Christ,’ and he asks that
our everyday lives be worthy of the Gospel. In parish terms, that means Christ
should be visible not only at the altar, but also at the church door, in the car
park, in our meetings, at morning tea, in the parish office, in our care for
the sick, and in the way we speak about one another when we disagree.
The Ordinary Work
of the Kingdom
The work of the
vineyard is often very ordinary. It is learning someone’s name. It is noticing
who is standing alone. It is making a phone call. It is bringing a meal. It is
forgiving an old hurt. It is inviting a young family to become involved. It is
thanking the person who quietly does the same task week after week. These small
acts may not look dramatic, but they make the Kingdom of God visible among us.
The prophet Isaiah
reminds us to seek the Lord while he is still near and to return to the God who
is rich in forgiving. Perhaps today the Lord is near to us in the person
sitting a few seats away. Perhaps the invitation to return is meant for someone
who has felt on the edge of parish life. Perhaps God is asking each of us to
put aside comparison and rediscover gratitude.
A Parish with the
Generous Heart of God
As we celebrate the
years behind us and look towards the years ahead, let us remember this: the
parish is not ours to possess. It is God’s vineyard, and we are blessed to work
in it together. Some began early. Some came later. Others are still on the road.
But the Lord continues to go out, hour after hour, calling people in.
May we become a
parish with the same generous heart as God, grateful for those who have
laboured faithfully, ready to welcome those who arrive at the eleventh hour,
and willing to use our hearts, our heads and our hands so that every person may
discover a home here and encounter the love of Christ.