A generous God and a welcoming parish

 

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.