Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Gospel: Matthew 22:1–14

Question: Father, something seems unfair in today’s Gospel. The king tells his servants to go into the streets and invite everyone they can find—“bad and good alike.” Then he sees one man without a wedding garment and throws him out!  If the man was invited at the last minute, why punish him for wearing the wrong clothes? And what exactly is this mysterious “wedding garment”?

Answer: At first glance, it does sound unfair.

Imagine someone suddenly stopping you on the street: “Come quickly! The king is having a wedding banquet!”

You arrive—and then get thrown out because you are not dressed properly?

But Jesus is not really giving us a lesson in wedding etiquette. The wedding garment is a spiritual image.

The garment represents the repentance and change of heart that must continue in a life of good deeds.

That changes everything.

Notice what happens first. The king tells his servants: “Invite to the feast whomever you find.” And they gather “bad and good alike.”

That is a beautiful picture of grace.

God does not say, “Clean yourself up first, become perfect, and then perhaps I will invite you.” The invitation comes first. ❤️ Sinners are invited. The unworthy are invited. People with complicated pasts are invited.

In fact, Christianity begins not with our worthiness, but with God’s invitation.

But here comes the challenging part: Although the invitation is freely given, Jesus does not say that we should remain unchanged after accepting it.

That is the wedding garment.

Interestingly, the Catholic Church even connects this imagery with Baptism. The Catechism explains that the baptismal white garment symbolizes that the newly baptized person has “put on Christ” (CCC 1243), and then calls the baptized person one who is “clothed with the wedding garment” and admitted to the marriage supper (CCC 1244).

Think about that!

At Baptism, we are not merely invited into a building or added to a membership list. We are clothed with Christ. But Baptism is supposed to become a life.

That is why simply saying, “Well, I’m baptized. I’m Catholic. I go to Mass,” cannot mean that nothing else matters.

Jesus Himself warns elsewhere: “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father.” (Matthew 7:21)

The wedding garment therefore protects us from two opposite mistakes.

The first says: “I must make myself worthy before God will invite me.”

No. Grace invites us first.

The second says: “Since God invited me, how I live no longer matters.”

Again, no. Grace is meant to transform us.

God welcomes us as we are—but loves us too much to leave us exactly as we are.

Perhaps that is why the garment is such a powerful image.

You can enter the banquet carrying a messy past. You can enter with sins that need forgiveness. You can enter after years away from God. But once the King welcomes you, allow Him to clothe you with Christ.

The invitation is free.

But the invitation is meant to change what we wear—and eventually, who we become. ❤️✝️

Twenty-Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

Gospel: Matthew 21:33–43

Question: Father, Jesus could simply have said, “A man planted a vineyard.” Instead, He gives us three very specific details: the landowner “put a hedge around it, dug a wine press in it, and built a tower.” Why does Jesus bother mentioning all three? Is there something hidden in the hedge, the winepress, and the tower? ✝️

Answer: If you walked into the vineyard in today’s Gospel, three things would immediately catch your attention: A hedge around you.  A tower above you.  A winepress waiting nearby. None of them is accidental.

Jesus is borrowing this imagery from Isaiah 5, where God describes His people as a vineyard He lovingly prepared. Isaiah says that the owner planted choice vines, “built a watchtower, and hewed out a wine press.” Later, God speaks of removing its hedge when the vineyard fails to produce good fruit.

So what do these three objects tell us?

First, the hedge.

A hedge marked off and protected the vineyard. The vines were valuable, so the owner did not simply leave them exposed.

That gives us a beautiful way to understand God’s commandments.

We sometimes look at a commandment and see a restriction. God sees something worth protecting.

“Do not commit adultery” protects marriage and fidelity. “Do not bear false witness” protects truth and another person’s good name. “Keep holy the Sabbath” protects our relationship with God.

The hedge is not there because the vineyard is worthless. The hedge is there precisely because the vineyard is precious.

Then there is the tower.

Isaiah actually calls it a watchtower.

From a tower, someone could watch over the vineyard. It is an image of vigilance and care.

And that is exactly what God does throughout salvation history. He does not plant His people and then forget them. He sends His servants, the prophets, to call them back. Finally, as Jesus says in the parable, He sends His Son.

God watches over what belongs to Him.

And finally, there is the winepress.

Why build a winepress before the grapes have even been harvested?

Because the owner expects fruit.

That may be the most challenging object of all.

God has given us Baptism, Scripture, the Eucharist, Confession, His commandments, and the life of the Church. But these are not religious decorations.

God expects His grace to bear fruit. The Eucharist should make us more charitable. Confession should lead us toward conversion. Prayer should change our hearts. Faith should become a life of holiness.

That is why Jesus concludes: “The Kingdom of God will be…given to a people that will produce its fruit.”

The hedge, tower, and winepress tell the whole story.

God protects.
 God watches over.
 God expects fruit.

And perhaps there is one more beautiful detail.

Before the tenants ever produced a single grape, the Owner had already done the work of preparing the vineyard.

Grace always comes first.

God planted.

God protected.

God provided.

And then He asked for fruit.

So when God looks at the vineyard of my life, perhaps the question is not only: “What has God given me?” But also: “After everything He has given me, what fruit am I giving back to Him?” ❤️✝️

Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Gospel: Matthew 21:28–32

Question: Father, Christians often say that we are saved by faith and not by our works. But in today’s Gospel, Jesus seems very interested in what the two sons actually did. One son says “yes” to his father but never goes to the vineyard; the other says “no” but eventually goes. So which matters for salvation— faith or works? And can someone really claim to believe in Jesus while refusing to obey Him? ✝️

Answer: There may be only a few inches between your mouth and your heart—but spiritually, that can sometimes be a very long distance! 

Today Jesus tells a remarkably simple story.

A father tells his first son: “Son, go out and work in the vineyard today.” The son answers: “I will not.” Not exactly Son of the Year!

But afterward, something happens inside him. He changes his mind and goes.

The father approaches the second son with exactly the same command. This one gives the perfect religious answer: “Yes, sir.” 

Wonderful! Except…he never goes.

Then Jesus asks: “Which of the two did his father’s will?”

Notice Jesus’ question. He does not ask, “Which son gave the better answer?”

He asks: Which one actually did the Father’s will?

And this helps us understand one of the most misunderstood Catholic teachings: faith and works.

The Catholic Church does not teach that we earn Heaven by being good enough. Scripture is clear: salvation is a gift of God’s grace. St. Paul says we are saved “by grace…through faith” and that this is “the gift of God” (Ephesians 2:8).

But keep reading!

Only one verse later, Paul says that we are created in Christ Jesus “for the good works that God has prepared in advance.” (Ephesians 2:10)

So Catholic teaching is not: Faith OR works. It is a living faith that works through love (Galatians 5:6). ❤️

Our works do not cause God to owe us salvation. Rather, when we receive His grace, that grace is supposed to change the way we live.

That is why the second son is such a powerful warning. He has the right words but not the corresponding life.

And Jesus makes the point even more shocking: “Tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God before you.” 

Jesus is not celebrating prostitution, corruption, or sin. He is celebrating repentance.

The tax collectors and prostitutes had said “no” to God through their sins. But when John the Baptist called them to repentance, some believed and changed.

Meanwhile, some deeply religious people heard the same message, knew the right words, looked respectable—and refused to change.

That should make every practicing Catholic think.

It is possible to know when to stand, sit, and kneel. To know the prayers. To receive ashes every Lent. To have Catholic statues in our homes. To say, “Yes, Lord!” And still refuse to enter the vineyard.

Catholicism is not merely something we say we are. It is a life of grace that must continually lead us to conversion.

And perhaps the most hopeful person in the whole parable is actually the son who first said “No.” Because his first answer did not become his final answer.

Maybe we have said “no” to God through sin. Maybe we have been away from Confession for years. Maybe there is one part of our life where we know exactly what God is asking—and we have resisted Him.

Today’s Gospel tells us: You can still change your answer.

God would rather receive an imperfect sinner who finally walks into the vineyard than hear a beautiful “yes”that never leaves our lips.

Because genuine faith does not end with “Yes, Lord.”

Eventually, our feet have to move toward the vineyard. ✝️

Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Gospel: Matthew 20:1–16a

Question: Father, I have to admit: the landowner in today’s Gospel doesn’t seem very fair!  Some workers labor in the vineyard all day under the hot sun, while others work for only one hour—and everyone receives the same pay. Is Jesus saying that someone who follows God faithfully for an entire lifetime receives the same salvation as someone who turns to God at the very end? If so, why bother trying to live a holy life now? 

Answer: If you owned a business, today’s Gospel might make you a little nervous.

Imagine hiring someone at 9:00 a.m. Another at noon. Another at 3:00 p.m. Then, at 5:00 p.m., with only an hour left in the workday, you hire one more person.

At closing time, you hand every one of them the same paycheck.

Your payroll department might have some questions! And so do the workers.

Those who worked all day complain: “You have made them equal to us, who bore the day’s burden and the heat.”

At first glance, they have a point. But there is an important detail. The landowner never cheats them. He had agreed with the first workers on “the usual daily wage,” and that is exactly what he pays them.

Their problem begins when they look at what someone else received. Suddenly, what had seemed fair that morning feels unfair that evening.

And that is where this parable becomes an extraordinary lesson about grace.

Jesus is not giving employers instructions about payroll. He begins by saying, “The Kingdom of heaven is like…”

The vineyard is about God’s Kingdom, and the landowner’s generosity teaches us something essential: Salvation is not a paycheck God owes us. It is a gift of grace. ✝️

The Catechism teaches that our justification comes from the grace of God and that grace is “free and undeserved help” (CCC 1996). That means we cannot stand before God and say: “I prayed this many Rosaries. I attended this many Masses. I served the parish for this many years. Therefore, God, You owe me Heaven.”

God owes us nothing. Everything begins with grace.

Does that mean our good works do not matter? Absolutely not.

Catholic teaching is not “works don’t matter.” Once God gives us His grace, He invites us to cooperate with it. Our acts of faith, charity, sacrifice, repentance, and perseverance truly matter. Scripture even speaks of God rewarding each person according to his works (Romans 2:6; Matthew 16:27). But even our ability to respond to God is already supported by His grace.

Think of the workers in the vineyard: none of them would be working there unless the landowner first came looking for them.

That is beautiful.

The workers did not discover the vineyard and hire themselves. The landowner went out to find them. He went out early in the morning. Then again at nine. Again at noon. Again at three. And incredibly, with the day almost over, he went out again.

Why? Because there were still people standing there.

That tells us something about God.

As long as there is life, God has not stopped calling.

Perhaps someone has loved Christ since childhood. Another returns to the Church after thirty years. Another enters Confession after decades away. Another, like the Good Thief beside Jesus, turns toward Christ when the day is almost over.

Can God really give eternal life even to the person who comes at the last hour? Yes.

That is not injustice. That is mercy. ❤️

And perhaps the most revealing moment comes when the landowner asks the complaining worker: “Are you envious because I am generous?”

Literally, the Greek speaks of the “evil eye”—an ancient expression for envy or begrudging another person’s good fortune. ️

The first workers received everything they were promised. Their sadness began only when they saw someone else receiving generosity.

And perhaps that is the real warning for those of us who have been in the vineyard for a long time. We should never look at someone returning to God and think: “After everything they have done, how can God forgive them so easily?”

Because Heaven is not filled with people who successfully earned their admission. Heaven is filled with sinners who were saved by grace.

Some entered the vineyard early. Some arrived at noon. Some came when the sun was almost setting.

But every one of us is there for the same reason: The Landowner came looking for us first. ❤️✝️