Where Is God in the World Today? Bearing Fruit as God’s Vineyard

 27 Sunday OT

Jesus’ parable of the vineyard reminds us that one of the primary ways God is present in the world is through his people, who are called to bear the fruits of God’s kingdom. The strong prophetic tone of the Gospel highlights both the privilege and the responsibility of making God’s truth, goodness, peace, and love visible through our lives. St. Francis of Assisi offers a powerful example of what happens when a life bears this good fruit and becomes a living sign of God’s presence in the world.

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Where is God in the world today? How do we come to see where God is present?

I was once in a prayer group where we were asked to consider that question and share our responses. Many of the members were either new to the Church or were returning after some time away. It is a common question in prayer groups, but it is also a very important one: Where is God in the world today? There are, of course, many ways we could answer. In today’s Gospel, however, Jesus gives us one important answer. One way God is present in the world today is through us, through the community of believers, through the Church.

In the Gospel, Jesus tells the parable of the vineyard. In doing so, he draws on imagery that is very important in the Old Testament, as we hear in the first reading. God’s people are his vineyard. First Israel, and now the community of Christ’s disciples, is called to bear fruit in the world. Through his people, God blesses the world.

There is a familiar story that illustrates this well. A great flood had come, and the waters kept rising until a man was trapped in his house. Eventually, he climbed out of an upstairs window and made his way onto the roof. A man in a rowboat came by and called to him, “Come down into the boat. I’ll take you to safety.” But the man replied, “I’m fine. I’ve prayed, and God is going to save me.”

The water continued to rise. Soon someone came by in a speedboat and shouted, “You have to hurry! The water is rising and the current is getting stronger. Get into the boat, and I’ll bring you to safety.” Again, the man replied, “I’m fine. I prayed to God, and God is going to save me.” Finally, when the water was almost at the peak of the roof, a helicopter arrived. The pilot called down, “I’m lowering a ladder. Hold on, and I’ll bring you to safety.” Once again, the man refused. “Thank you, but I prayed to God, and God is going to save me.”

The waters rose, the man drowned, and he came before God. He asked, “I prayed to you. Why didn’t you save me?” God replied, “I sent you a rowboat, a speedboat, and a helicopter. What else did you expect me to do?”

The story expresses something important about how God works in the world. God so often acts through people. We, God’s children, are called to make his presence visible. Through our acts of goodness, our gifts and talents, our kindness, and our service, we can make Christ present to those around us. We are God’s vineyard, called to produce good fruit in the world.

That is an incredible privilege, but it is also an incredible responsibility. This is where the strong language of today’s Gospel becomes important. I remember some years ago doing a Bible study with a group of high school teachers. We were discussing this Gospel and asking what struck them about the passage. Almost everyone responded in the same way: “Jesus sounds so harsh. This doesn’t quite sound like the Jesus I know.”

Jesus does sound severe in this parable. But we find this elsewhere in the Gospels, particularly when Jesus wants to wake us up to the importance of what he is saying. In this sense, Jesus speaks like one of the Old Testament prophets. The prophets sometimes used very strong language because they wanted to shake people out of complacency. They called people to recognize the seriousness of their responsibilities before God. That is one reason prophets were so often rejected.

The parable itself recalls this history. God sends servants to the vineyard, but they are rejected. Jesus takes up this prophetic tradition, not because he wants us to be terrified of God, but because he wants us to understand the importance of the mission we have been given. We really are called to bear God’s fruit in the world. If we fail to do so, something of God’s light and love will be missing from the lives of those around us.

Each of us has a role to play. When we live as God’s vineyard and bear good fruit, we help make the world a better place, a world more filled with justice, peace, goodness, and love. The image of the vineyard is particularly beautiful. Grapes were an important part of daily life in Jesus’ time. They were eaten as food and made into wine. They were something valuable, nourishing, and life-giving. In the same way, our lives are meant to produce something good for the world around us.

St. Paul describes this good fruit beautifully in the second reading from his Letter to the Philippians: whatever is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, we are called to fill our minds and our lives with these things. These are the fruits of God’s kingdom. We are called to bring truth, goodness, and beauty into the world. When we do so, God’s light shines through us.

Tomorrow the Church celebrates the feast of St. Francis of Assisi, perhaps one of the best-known and most loved saints, even among people outside the Church. There is a good reason for this. St. Francis, who lived in the thirteenth century, followed Jesus in a beautiful and compelling way. The fruits of the kingdom were visible in his life, and people were drawn to them.

Francis was a peacemaker. He sought reconciliation and unity in the Church and in society, and he famously reached across religious divisions in a time of conflict. He cared deeply for the poor and went out to those who were sick, excluded, or pushed to the margins. He desired to show them the love and peace of Christ. Francis is also remembered for his extraordinary love of creation. He recognized the goodness of God reflected in the natural world, which is why today he is so closely associated with care for creation and is known as the patron saint of animals.

In St. Francis, we see what it looks like when someone truly bears good fruit for the kingdom of God. His life became one answer to the question, “Where is God in the world today?” People could encounter something of God’s goodness through him.

Let us pray that we can hear Christ’s message in today’s Gospel in the same way. We do not need to be frightened by his prophetic tone. Rather, we can allow it to do what prophetic words are meant to do: wake us up. Jesus reminds us of both the incredible gift and the incredible responsibility we have received. Each of us has gifts and talents. Each of us has people we are called to love and serve. May we bear good fruit in this world and truly become God’s vineyard for those around us.

How Christ Transforms Our Suffering | Philippians 2 and Life Is Beautiful

 26 Sunday OT, Year A

Suffering can change the way we see ourselves, others, and even God, but St. Paul offers a different way of understanding it in his Letter to the Philippians. In Christ, God does not remain distant from human pain but empties himself, enters into our suffering, and brings the hope of resurrection. Like the cracks Leonard Cohen writes about, our wounds can become places where God's light enters us and then shines through us for others.

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I think many of you will have seen the now classic movie Life Is Beautiful, directed by Roberto Benigni and released in 1997. It is an incredibly moving film, but also a painful one to watch at times. The story centres on a man named Guido, who marries in Italy shortly before the Second World War and has a young son with his wife. Guido is Jewish, and during the war he and his family are eventually taken to a concentration camp.

Guido finds himself there with his young son, who is too little to understand fully the horrors unfolding around him. He cannot comprehend the violence, the suffering, and the terror taking place day after day. Guido, as a father, wants somehow to spare his son from this pain and preserve his innocence. So he convinces him that everything happening around them is part of an elaborate game. The soldiers, the forced labour, the rules of the camp, all of it becomes part of the story Guido creates for his son.

The film is so striking because of the contrast between the brutality surrounding them and the extraordinary love of this father. Guido goes to incredible lengths to protect his son and to teach him, through his actions, that hatred does not have the final word. He wants his son to believe that goodness and love are ultimately stronger. In the end, Guido gives his own life while continuing to protect his son, showing him, in the most painful circumstances imaginable, that life can still be beautiful.

I was thinking about this film as I reflected on the second reading we heard at Mass today from St. Paul's Letter to the Philippians. Paul speaks about what Jesus has done for us, about the descent and humility of Christ so that we might have life. In doing so, Paul touches on something universal: the reality of suffering.

Each one of us carries disappointments, struggles, and pain. For some, it may be the death of someone we love. For others, it may be a serious illness, difficulty finding work, struggles with mental health, family problems, or the uncertainty of an immigration process. We all carry suffering of one kind or another. And if we are not careful, that suffering can begin to change the way we see our lives, the people around us, and even God.

St. Paul writes to the Philippians precisely to give hope to people who are struggling. This is an extraordinarily hopeful letter, and that becomes even more remarkable when we remember Paul's own circumstances. He is writing from prison, facing an uncertain future. Yet one of the most famous lines in the entire letter is: "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice." Paul himself is suffering, and the Christian community in Philippi is experiencing its own difficulties, tensions, and opposition. Yet Paul can still speak about joy.

How can he do that?

The answer comes in the passage we heard today. Paul points the Philippians toward Christ. He gives us this beautiful hymn, often called the kenotic hymn, from the Greek word kenosis, meaning "self-emptying." Though Christ was in the form of God, he emptied himself. Jesus is God, and yet he becomes human. And he goes further still. He does not enter human life as someone wealthy or powerful. He takes the form of a servant. He humbles himself and becomes obedient even to the point of death on a cross.

Jesus is, in a sense, the true obedient Son. He listens to the Father and actually does the Father's will. His humility leads ultimately to exaltation. His path passes through suffering and death, but suffering and death do not have the final word.

This is Paul's message to the Philippians, and it is his message to us. Christ comes very close to us in our suffering. That is at the heart of the Good News. God does not promise that we will be spared every difficulty. Jesus does not simply remove suffering from human life. Instead, he enters into it. He walks with us through it. In his self-emptying love, Christ comes close to us precisely where we are wounded.

And because Christ is with us there, suffering does not have to remain meaningless. Just as Christ's suffering and death are transformed through the Resurrection, he can also transform the suffering and struggles we carry. This does not mean that suffering suddenly becomes good, or that we should pretend pain does not hurt. It means that even suffering can become a place where God's grace is at work.

That is a challenge for us, just as it was for the Philippian community. Can we really believe that Jesus is close to us in our suffering? Can we believe something even more difficult, that the wounds and struggles in our lives can become places where God's goodness enters not only our lives but also the lives of others?

Leonard Cohen expressed something of this in his song Anthem when he wrote about the cracks through which light enters. All of us are, in one way or another, cracked by what we have experienced. We carry wounds from disappointment, grief, failure, illness, or loss. Those wounds can make us turn inward. They can make us bitter or afraid. But when Christ is present in our lives, those same wounds can become openings through which God's light enters.

And there is something more. The places where we have been wounded can sometimes become the very places through which God's light shines out toward others.

Perhaps you have had this experience. You went through something difficult and, at the time, you could not understand why it was happening. Then, years later, you encountered someone going through something very similar. Because of what you had experienced, you were able to listen differently. You could understand their pain in a way someone else perhaps could not. You were able to offer a word of encouragement, patience, or compassion. Your own wound had somehow become a source of healing for another person.

Perhaps only then did part of your own suffering begin to make a little more sense.

Today, then, let us bring before God the struggles and wounds we carry. Let us ask the Holy Spirit not to allow our pain simply to become something that closes us in on ourselves. Instead, may Christ meet us in those wounded places. May the cracks in our lives become places where his light enters us, heals us, and then shines through us to bring hope to those around us.

It Is Never Too Late to Follow Jesus: Grace, Generosity, and the Workers in the Vineyard

 25 Sunday of Ordinary Time

God’s grace is a gift that cannot be earned, and comparison with others can prevent us from recognizing his generosity in our own lives. God calls every person to take part in the mission of Christ because everyone has gifts that are needed in the Church. No matter our age, history, or stage of life, it is never too late to begin again, draw closer to God, and find a new way to serve.

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There is a charming story often told about Pope John XXIII, the pope who convened the Second Vatican Council. He was known for being a bit rotund and for having a very good sense of humour. One day, someone was visiting him and making his way through the Vatican. Seeing all the different staff working there, the visitor was surprised and asked, “Holy Father, how many people work here at the Vatican?” Pope John XXIII responded, “About half.”

Today’s parable is a bit troubling for us. It leaves us uncomfortable, because it has to do with work and those who seem not to have worked very much at all. Jesus tells us about a landowner, who stands in the place of God, going out at different times of the day to find people to work in his vineyard. The real kicker comes at the end, when those who have been labouring in the hot sun all day receive exactly the same pay as those who worked for only an hour. It doesn’t seem fair. It is unsettling. And perhaps that is precisely the point. Frequently in his parables, Jesus wants to make us feel a little uncomfortable. He wants to shake us out of our usual way of thinking so that we can see a deeper spiritual truth that we might otherwise miss.

What, then, is Jesus trying to help us realize in this parable? I would like to suggest three little lessons that Christ might be teaching us through this story that can initially seem so frustrating. The first is that what we receive from God—what we call grace—is something we can never earn. It is given to us entirely as a gift. All we can do is receive it with gratitude and respond to it. Some of the workers in the parable are offended by the generosity of the landowner, but the landowner reminds them that he has been generous to them and is free to be generous to others as well. God is like that with us. Grace is God’s life given to us. By definition, grace is a gift. It is unmerited, and our proper response is gratitude.

The problem comes when we begin comparing ourselves with other people. Then, instead of rejoicing in what God has given us, we can become bitter like the workers in the parable. There is a story told about Andrew Carnegie, who was one of the wealthiest men of his time and became famous for giving enormous sums of money to libraries and other public institutions. After his death, one relative discovered that Carnegie had left him a very large inheritance. At first, he was delighted. But when he learned how much Carnegie had given away to charitable causes, suddenly his own gift seemed small, and he became resentful. Nothing about his gift had changed. What changed was that he began comparing it with what others had received.

We can do the same thing with God. When we compare our lives, our gifts, our opportunities, or our blessings with those of others, we can lose sight of what has actually been given to us. Everything is gift. God has given himself to us. He has given us his Son and his very life. God is generous to all his children, and God has enough for all of us. Our task is not to compare, but to receive his grace with gratitude.

The second lesson is that God wants all of us to participate in his family and in his mission. All of us are important. All of us are needed. In the parable, the landowner keeps going out looking for more workers. He finds some in the morning, but that is not enough. He goes out again and again because he does not want anyone standing idle. He wants everyone participating in the work of the vineyard. In the same way, Jesus wants all of us to be part of his Body, the Church. St. Paul speaks about this so beautifully: we are the Body of Christ. Every person matters. Every person has a place.

Pope Francis expressed this beautifully at World Youth Day in Lisbon when he said that in the Church there is room for everyone. Then he repeated it: “Todos, todos, todos”—everyone, everyone, everyone. The Church is for everyone. There is a place for everyone. God wants all of us to participate. That is another beautiful message hidden in this parable. The landowner, who represents God, wants everyone in the vineyard. If someone is missing, something is missing. Each of us has been given particular gifts, and we are called to use those gifts in the service of Christ’s mission.

Finally, this parable is tremendously hopeful because it teaches us that it is never too late to follow Jesus. Those who came to the vineyard at the very last hour received the same generosity as those who had been there from the beginning. There is no better time to follow Christ than the present. Perhaps we have not prayed for a long time, and we become discouraged. We might think that it is too late to begin again. This parable tells us that now is the time. Now is the time to begin praying again and drawing closer to God.

Perhaps we have gone through much of our life without finding a way to serve in the Church or in the community, and we think, “I could never start now.” This parable tells us that now is exactly the time to begin. Perhaps we are entering a different stage of life—retirement, or simply winding down from the work we used to do—and we wonder whether there is still something God is asking of us. There always is. Regardless of where we are in life, God has a particular mission for us. We can encourage someone who is struggling, call someone who is lonely, visit someone in hospital or in a nursing home, pray for others, or use the gifts we have been given in some new way. There is a mission in the Church for everyone, and it is never too late to begin.

In the end, today’s parable may strike us on the surface as uncomfortable or even unfair. But Jesus is trying to wake us up to the fact that things work differently in the Kingdom of God. God is a Father who is generous to all of us. His grace is given freely to each one of us, and our task is to receive that gift, recognize it, and be grateful for it. Let us remind ourselves today that God is always calling us to participate, perhaps in a new way, in the mission of Jesus. And let us take hope from this wonderful truth: it is never too late to begin following Christ.