Homily – “The Vineyard Is the Kingdom, Not the Marketplace”

Brothers and sisters, today’s readings could not be more different on the surface — a parable about trees in Judges, and a parable about workers in a vineyard in Matthew — yet they both uncover a deep truth: God’s Kingdom is not run by the logic of the world.

In Judges 9, the people of Shechem choose Abimelech, a son of Gideon by a concubine, to be their king. But instead of a noble leader, they end up with a man who gains power through bloodshed and ambition.

The parable Jotham tells is striking: the fruitful olive tree, the sweet fig tree, and the flourishing vine all refuse to become king, because their calling is to give their fruit — not to dominate. In the end, the bramble offers to “rule” them — a plant with no real fruit, just thorns, offering shade it cannot provide.

It’s a warning: reject the fruitful ways of God, and you’ll be ruled by the brambles — the empty, the destructive, the false.

In the Gospel, Jesus tells a parable that turns human ideas of fairness upside down. A vineyard owner hires workers at different times of the day — some at dawn, some at mid-morning, some at noon, others at the last hour. But at the end of the day, He pays them all the same wage.

From a worldly point of view, that’s unfair. But from the Kingdom’s point of view, it’s grace.

The point is not how long you’ve worked, but that you have answered the Master’s call and entered His vineyard.

For us Catholics, the vineyard is not an abstract image — it’s the Church herself.

The “first hired” could be those born into Catholic families, baptized as infants, nurtured by the sacraments all their life.

The “last hired” could be converts — some who come to the Church only at the very end of life, perhaps even through a deathbed confession.

The wage? Eternal life — not earned by hours worked, but given by the generosity of God. We cannot save ourselves by “putting in the hours” of good works apart from grace. Salvation comes through Christ, in the Church, by grace — whether we came at dawn or in the final hour.

Today we also honour St. Bernard of Clairvaux, Doctor of the Church and one of the great spiritual masters of the Middle Ages.

St. Bernard knew well that the vineyard is not a workplace of drudgery, but of love. He once wrote: “The measure of our love for God is to love without measure.”

For Bernard, to work in the vineyard meant to live in such love of Christ that even the smallest task — prayer, study, service — becomes a way of loving Him back. And he reminds us: we don’t enter the vineyard because we’re “useful” to God, but because God wants to draw us into His life. The pay at the end of the day is not money — it’s Himself.

The danger for cradle Catholics — the “first hired” — is to look at latecomers with resentment. But the Master’s words are for us: “Are you envious because I am generous?”

We must rejoice when anyone enters the vineyard — whether they are the neighbour who just returned to Confession after decades, or a public sinner who has repented. If we truly believe the Church is the ark of salvation, then the more souls inside before the flood, the better.

For those thinking, “I’ll join at the last minute” — beware.
The parable shows God’s generosity, but it doesn’t promise how much time you have. The last hour could be today.

That’s why the Church calls us now — through her preaching, through the sacraments — to enter the vineyard without delay.

Judges shows us what happens when people choose leadership apart from God’s will — they end up under brambles.
Matthew shows us what happens when we accept God’s invitation — we end up in His vineyard, under His care, sharing His reward.

The choice is stark: bramble or vine; the world’s rule or God’s Kingdom.

• Don’t delay your entry into the vineyard — respond to Christ’s call now.
• Don’t resent those who arrive late — rejoice that they have found the way.
• Don’t settle for the brambles — live under the shelter of the true vine, Christ, in His Church.

Because in the Kingdom, the reward is not a wage you earn — it’s a gift you receive. And that gift, when given in the Eucharist, is already a taste of eternal life.