Follow the Teaching and the Tradition Passed Down to Us

Homily for the Twenty-Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

This week’s readings are certainly not easy to apply. There is always the temptation to see the parable of Isaiah about the vineyard and the parable of Jesus about the vine-growers as referring to the people of Israel and the leaders of Israel who did not recognize Jesus as the Christ, the Messiah. That way it all works out neatly: the vineyard which is Israel is left unprotected and the nation is dispersed, as happened historically, and the vine-growers who are Israel’s chief priests and Pharisees have no office in the “New Dispensation” which is the Church. There is no doubt that this was originally intended, and indeed St. Matthew’s Gospel assures us that the chief priests and Pharisees well knew the reference was to them and wanted to arrest Jesus.

However, the Scriptures and the lectionary for the liturgy do not incorporate texts unless they have a meaning for Christians of every age. So, we must rather reflect further about what these parables mean in relation to our own lives, although the imagery tends to be remote for most of us. However. my uncle, David Cooper, had a grapevine in the backyard of his home. Whenever we came to visit, Uncle Dave would take great pride in his vines and the grapes they produced. He never tired of cultivating those vines and in sharing the experience with us.

This experience has somehow brought the parables of Isaiah and of Jesus much closer for me. Just as my Uncle Dave cared for his vines, I read the parable as telling me that God really cares for the Church and all of humankind, and will not be thwarted. Just as my uncle was constant in faithfully tending his vines, it reminds me about the indefatigable fidelity of God. These parables also seem to suggest that the difference between the two parables is important. Isaiah speaks of the vineyard itself and the bitter disappointment of the owner of the vineyard who has tended it. Though Isaiah speaks of justice and righteousness denied and of cries of distress, he does not actually distinguish between the people at large and the responsible leaders. Jesus does. His parable refers to the vine-dressers, to those responsible for the state of the vineyard and the rendering of its fruits

One can read Jesus’ account and his judgment as sad, or as angry, or even as coaxing. One can read it as a judgment upon church authorities in our own times. One can read it as a challenge and a cautionary tale about one’s own responsibilities. One can even read it as an explanation of the social character of human freedom and the consequent social devastation of sin in human history. History does not in all respects repeat itself; the change brought about by the son’s death in Jesus’ parable is final and, strangely enough, redemptive.

As though anticipating that all of this would not make sense by our accustomed logic, the liturgy also gives us a reading from St. Paul which speaks of the peace of God which is beyond the utmost understanding. Assured of the intimate presence of the Risen Lord, St. Paul is convinced that there is no ground for anxiety but only for hopeful petitions in prayer, springing from overflowing gratitude. St. Paul, who has been intimately aligned with the killing of the son, and intimately affected by the vineyard owner’s transfer of authority to other vine-dressers, is full of hope. Everything has changed by the death of Jesus, not vindictively but redemptively – not for the worse, but immeasurably for the better. That is why St. Paul has no hesitation in counseling a certain serenity, asking his friends to focus their attention on what is noble, just, pure, lovable, gracious, excellent, and admirable. With Christ’s final coming hovering near before his eyes, St. Paul seems carried away with the possibilities that this offers. His advice is confident: follow the teaching and the tradition passed on, and the God of peace will be with us. That advice stands just as importantly for us as it did for the Philippians.