Homily: September 20, 2026, Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Come to my Vineyard)

 “Why do you stand here idle all day?” They answered him, “Because no one has hired us.”

There is something very sad in those words: “No one has hired us.”

These men were not necessarily lazy. They had been standing there waiting. Perhaps they were not as young or as strong as the others. Perhaps when employers came looking for workers, they looked at them and chose somebody else.

And perhaps some of us know something about that feeling.

Someone tells you, “We don’t need you anymore.” You lose a job. A relationship ends. Someone you loved decides that they no longer want to walk with you. You are overlooked while somebody else is chosen.

There is a particular pain in feeling that nobody wants you.

And in the time of Jesus, these workers were not simply looking for something to occupy their day. A day’s wage could mean food on the table for their families. If nobody hired them, they might return home that evening with nothing.

But then comes this landowner.

He goes out early in the morning and hires workers. Then he goes out again at nine. He goes again at noon. Again at three. And amazingly, with only one hour left in the working day, he goes out again.

That is what strikes me about this Gospel.

He keeps going back.

He is not tired of looking for people.

And Jesus tells us that this is what the Kingdom of Heaven is like.

God keeps coming back for His children.

Some of us hear His call very early in life. Some hear it later. Some wander away and come back. Some may spend years standing at a distance from God. And perhaps some hear His invitation only in the final hours of their lives.

But God keeps coming.

He does not look at anyone and say, “It is too late for you. I don't need you anymore.”

Then we come to the part of the Gospel that troubles us.

At the end of the day, those who worked only one hour receive the same daily wage as those who worked from the morning through the heat of the day.

And immediately something inside us says, “That is not fair!”

Those who worked all day say the same thing.

And this is where today's first reading becomes so important:

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord.”

Jesus is not giving us a lesson in business management. He is revealing something about the generosity of God.

And it raises an interesting question.

What about someone who has loved God faithfully throughout an entire lifetime and someone who turns to God only at the end?

Think about St. Joseph. He gave his life to Jesus. He protected Him, provided for Him, took Mary and Jesus into Egypt, worked for them, suffered for them, and remained faithful.

Then think about the Good Thief.

His conversion comes while he is dying on a cross. And Jesus tells him, “Today you will be with me in Paradise.”

Does that mean there is no difference?

Does that mean we should say, “Then why bother following Christ now? I will wait until the last hour”?

St. Thérèse of Lisieux gives us a beautiful way of understanding this.

When Thérèse was a little girl, she struggled with the idea that there could be different degrees of glory in heaven and yet everyone could be perfectly happy.

Her sister Pauline took a large glass and Thérèse’s little thimble and filled both with water to the brim.

Then she asked Thérèse, “Which one is fuller?”

The answer is: neither.

Both are completely full.

The glass holds much more than the thimble, but the thimble is not missing anything. It is completely full according to its capacity.

And Thérèse understood.

In heaven, no one will be walking around disappointed. No one will look at St. Joseph, St. Francis, St. Thérèse, or the Blessed Mother and say, “Why did God give them more than He gave me?”

There is no jealousy in heaven.

Every soul will be completely filled with God.

Completely filled with joy.

Completely filled with peace.

Completely filled with love.

And yet, during this life, we allow God to enlarge our capacity for Him.

Every time we pray when we don't feel like praying, the heart becomes a little larger.

Every time we forgive when forgiveness is difficult, the heart becomes a little larger.

Every time we choose generosity instead of selfishness, the heart becomes a little larger.

Every time we carry a cross faithfully, serve another person, come back to confession, receive the Eucharist, or say yes to God's will, grace stretches the heart.

That is why we do not wait until the last hour.

We follow Christ now because life with Christ is already a gift.

St. Paul says beautifully in today's second reading:

“For to me life is Christ, and death is gain.”

Paul is not merely waiting to get into heaven someday. Christ has already become his life.

That is the invitation of today's Gospel.

God wants us.

God is looking for us.

He goes out in the morning. He goes out at noon. He goes out in the afternoon. And even at the last hour, He is still looking.

Maybe you have felt overlooked by others.

Maybe someone has made you feel that you are no longer needed.

Maybe you have wandered far from God and wonder whether it is too late to return.

Listen to the landowner in today's Gospel:

“You too go into my vineyard.”

There is a place for you.

There is work for you.

There is grace for you.

There is still time.

Our God is generous. He does not want anyone standing outside believing that nobody wants them.

So let us not stand idle.

Let us enter His vineyard. Let us work for His Kingdom. Let us allow His grace, day after day, to enlarge our hearts.

Because one day, by His mercy, when our work is finished, God desires to fill those hearts completely—

with Himself.