GRACE FROM THE VINEYARD

Sermon for the Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost (Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time)
Sunday, September 24, 2023

Matthew 20.1-16

‘For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire labourers for his vineyard. 2After agreeing with the labourers for the usual daily wage, he sent them into his vineyard. 3When he went out about nine o’clock, he saw others standing idle in the market-place; 4and he said to them, “You also go into the vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.” So they went. 5When he went out again about noon and about three o’clock, he did the same. 6And about five o’clock he went out and found others standing around; and he said to them, “Why are you standing here idle all day?” 7They said to him, “Because no one has hired us.” He said to them, “You also go into the vineyard.” 8When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his manager, “Call the labourers and give them their pay, beginning with the last and then going to the first.” 9When those hired about five o’clock came, each of them received the usual daily wage. 10Now when the first came, they thought they would receive more; but each of them also received the usual daily wage. 11And when they received it, they grumbled against the landowner, 12saying, “These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.” 13But he replied to one of them, “Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? 14Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. 15Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?” 16So the last will be first, and the first will be last.’

[THE GREEK TEXT MAY BE FOUND AT THE END OF THE SERMON.]

GRACE FROM THE VINEYARD

+ In nomine Domini. Amen.

The first time I saw a vineyard, it was on the farm in the front yard of my Grandparent’s house. There were 6 mature large Concord grape vines. Every Spring we watched them begin to produce little tiny green round beads that would by Autumn turn into lovely bunches of tasty blue grapes. I assisted my Grandfather in the harvest of these magnificent berries, gathering them into as many bushel baskets as were required to contain the bounty. My Grandmother made them into jams and juice, the latter poured into half-pint mason jars complete with lids and stored on a shelf in the cellar of the farmhouse.

The next late-Spring on a random early afternoon, just after lunch, my Grandmother would climb down the rather treacherous steps into the cellar and bring up two or three jars of her prize Grape juice. My Grandfather and I were seated outside the kitchen on metal patio chairs. She came to the door, opened it and handed a jar to us saying,

“Here, try the Grape Juice from last Fall.”

My Grandfather took the glass container of the precious liquid, and said, “Be still my heart!” Taking a long sip of the grape-juice he proclaimed, “Sweet essence of Ambrosia, Nectar of the Gods!”

Handing me the jar he said, “Quick, take a drink.” Inside the kitchen we heard a shriek; it was my Grandmother, “ACH! It’s spoiled again!” She hurried to the kitchen door and grabbed the jar seconds after my Grandfather took a long draught.

We heard her back at the kitchen sink pouring all the jars of her grape-juice down the drain. Each jar had, of course, not spoiled but turned to delicious wine.

My Grandfather put his finger to his lips whispering, “Don’t say anything,” and smiled broadly and gently shaking with held-in laughter.

It was a ritual that was repeated each Spring as long as I was living at home. I have tasted some of the finest wines there are to be had, but nothing compares to the annual sips of my Grandmother’s spoiled grape-juice. Ever.

The only fermented drink my Grandmother (who was raised as a Quaker) and my Grandfather ever took was at Holy Communion — beyond that, they were teetotalers, but on the farm that meant at breakfast and at dinner a cup of very strong TEA. My Grandfather joked with his friends that when his doctor advised him to cut down on the twenty or so cups of coffee he drank every day, he switched back to tea (his Irish mother’s beverage of choice) and announced, “But, for the first two months, I put two tea bags in every cup!” I grew up sitting at meals with my Grandparents drinking the strongest tea (no milk, no sugar) in the world, and loved it.

Tea was a staple; my Grandmother even cleaned her eyeglasses by first dipping them into her tea, then wiping them with a cloth napkin.¹

Secretly, I think my Grandmother knew exactly what had happened to her grape-juice. She just enjoyed immensely the ritual of what I call Grace from the Vineyard.

+++

What this story has to do with the appointed Gospel Reading for this Sunday is certainly questionable. I simply know that whenever I hear or whenever I have read aloud from the pulpit this part of Matthew’s Story of the Life and Times of Jesus of Nazareth, it always brings to mind this lovely memory of my Grandmother turning juice into wine. The scene plays out in my head complete with feeling again the warmth of afternoon sunlight, the smell of life on the farm, the sound of my Grandmother stirring in the kitchen, the presence of my Grandfather, the taste on my lips. It brings me great joy and happiness, and in the worst of times, overwhelming comfort.

Perhaps what comes from the story in Matthew is that the generosity of grace and kindness are what should define our human existence. Conflict, competition, and corruption — the big “Cs” of which we hear too much these days — simple evaporate as the Story is read and told again.

And I suppose that is enough. It is surely the Good News for this day. And let us say: Amen.

Deo Gratias (+)
The Rev. Benjamin Larzelere III, Retired

1This true fact is provided by my Sister, who thankfully remembers things about our life on the farm that I have forgotten.

1Ὁμοία γάρ ἐστιν ἡ βασιλεία τῶν οὐρανῶν ἀνθρώπῳ οἰκοδεσπότῃ ὅστις ἐξῆλθεν ἅμα πρωῒ μισθώσασθαι ἐργάτας εἰς τὸν ἀμπελῶνα αὐτοῦ: 2συμφωνήσας δὲ μετὰ τῶν ἐργατῶν ἐκ δηναρίου τὴν ἡμέραν ἀπέστειλεν αὐτοὺς εἰς τὸν ἀμπελῶνα αὐτοῦ. 3καὶ ἐξελθὼν περὶ τρίτην ὥραν εἶδεν ἄλλους ἑστῶτας ἐν τῇ ἀγορᾷ ἀργούς: 4καὶ ἐκείνοις εἶπεν, Ὑπάγετε καὶ ὑμεῖς εἰς τὸν ἀμπελῶνα, καὶ ὃ ἐὰν ᾖ δίκαιον δώσω ὑμῖν. 5οἱ δὲ ἀπῆλθον. πάλιν [δὲ] ἐξελθὼν περὶ ἕκτην καὶ ἐνάτην ὥραν ἐποίησεν ὡσαύτως. 6περὶ δὲ τὴν ἑνδεκάτην ἐξελθὼν εὗρεν ἄλλους ἑστῶτας, καὶ λέγει αὐτοῖς, Τί ὧδε ἑστήκατε ὅλην τὴν ἡμέραν ἀργοί; 7λέγουσιν αὐτῷ, Οτι οὐδεὶς ἡμᾶς ἐμισθώσατο. λέγει αὐτοῖς, Ὑπάγετε καὶ ὑμεῖς εἰς τὸν ἀμπελῶνα. 8ὀψίας δὲ γενομένης λέγει ὁ κύριος τοῦ ἀμπελῶνος τῷ ἐπιτρόπῳ αὐτοῦ, Κάλεσον τοὺς ἐργάτας καὶ ἀπόδος αὐτοῖς τὸν μισθὸν ἀρξάμενος ἀπὸ τῶν ἐσχάτων ἕως τῶν πρώτων. 9καὶ ἐλθόντες οἱ περὶ τὴν ἑνδεκάτην ὥραν ἔλαβον ἀνὰ δηνάριον. 10καὶ ἐλθόντες οἱ πρῶτοι ἐνόμισαν ὅτι πλεῖον λήμψονται: καὶ ἔλαβον [τὸ] ἀνὰ δηνάριον καὶ αὐτοί. 11λαβόντες δὲ ἐγόγγυζον κατὰ τοῦ οἰκοδεσπότου 12λέγοντες, Οὗτοι οἱ ἔσχατοι μίαν ὥραν ἐποίησαν, καὶ ἴσους ἡμῖν αὐτοὺς ἐποίησας τοῖς βαστάσασι τὸ βάρος τῆς ἡμέρας καὶ τὸν καύσωνα. 13ὁ δὲ ἀποκριθεὶς ἑνὶ αὐτῶν εἶπεν, Ἑταῖρε, οὐκ ἀδικῶ σε: οὐχὶ δηναρίου συνεφώνησάς μοι; 14ἆρον τὸ σὸν καὶ ὕπαγε: θέλω δὲ τούτῳ τῷ ἐσχάτῳ δοῦναι ὡς καὶ σοί. 15[ἢ] οὐκ ἔξεστίν μοι ὃ θέλω ποιῆσαι ἐν τοῖς ἐμοῖς; ἢ ὁ ὀφθαλμός σου πονηρός ἐστιν ὅτι ἐγὼ ἀγαθός εἰμι; 16Οὕτως ἔσονται οἱ ἔσχατοι πρῶτοι καὶ οἱ πρῶτοι ἔσχατ