25th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A (September 20, 2026)

“It’s not fair!”

That might be our first reaction to today’s Gospel. Jesus tells the parable of a landowner who goes out at dawn to hire laborers for his vineyard. He returns at 9:00, Noon, 3:00, and even 5:00, near the end of the workday, and hires still more workers.

At paytime, those hired last receive a full day’s wage. You can almost see the dawn crew rubbing their hands in eager expectation. After all, they toiled in the hot sun all day! Surely they will receive more.

But they don’t. Everyone receives the same wage.

Naturally, the dawn workers grumble. The landowner replies:

“My friend, I am not cheating you. Did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? What if I wish to give this last one the same as you? . . . Are you envious because I am generous?”

And then Jesus concludes:

“Thus, the last will be first, and the first will be last.” 

This parable probably threw Matthew’s community for a loop. Matthew was writing for a Christian community with strong Jewish roots at a time when the Church was expanding to embrace Gentiles and others who had only recently come to faith. Some might understandably have wondered: We have been faithful all this time. Don’t we deserve something more? 

Jesus turns the question around. 

The Kingdom of God is not something we earn according to how many hours we have worked. It is a gift. God’s generosity cannot be measured by our human calculations of who deserves what. 

The First Reading from Isaiah prepares us beautifully for this teaching:

“Let the scoundrel forsake his way . . . Let him turn to the LORD for mercy; to our God, who is generous in forgiving.”

Generous in forgiving. 

That is the God Jesus reveals in the vineyard: a God who keeps going out, hour after hour, looking for more people to invite in.

Perhaps that is the real surprise of this parable. The landowner never stops looking for workers. Dawn. Nine o’clock. Noon. Three o’clock. Five o’clock. There is always room for one more.

And that says something important about our Christian communities. I think of youth groups and choirs who have been together for a long time. It is easy to become comfortable with familiar friends and familiar ways of doing things. Without intending to, we can begin acting as though the vineyard belongs to us.

But it doesn’t.

By the very nature of Christian ministry, we are always called to welcome new people, with new gifts and talents that our community may very much need. 

Some of us arrived at dawn. Others came at Noon. Still others may be walking into the vineyard at five o’clock.

God rejoices that they came at all.

And so should we.