This Sunday’s parable places us in the old town square. We see a group of laborers waiting all day for work, but we need someone to hire them.
The vineyard owner tirelessly scouted for workers since dawn, relentlessly between the field and the square until nightfall. The owner is a consoling image in our spiritual life: He is our Lord.
So, at the end of the day, the left-behind workers are no longer needed; no one calls them.
As I observe the day, I empathize with those left behind – the individuals who sit in the square with their trade tools scattered around them, feeling defeated in their attempt to provide sustenance for themselves and their loved ones.
The call comes unexpectedly, illogical, but enough to procure a single morsel. The group eagerly embraces the offer, showing their trust and willingness despite the low expectations at dusk.
The owner’s words: “Come work in my vineyard,” sound like fine poetry, like comfort in uncertainty, a sound announcing that God has opened a space in his vineyard for us.
God resounds with his consoling voice when all seems lost: “There is room for you!”
Without deserving it, a denarius becomes gold. God’s ways are inscrutable, from despair to hope, but hiring at night? This is undoubtedly the all-merciful God.
Are you bothered that I am good? No, Lord, I don’t mind at all. I’m the last laborer; now I know you’ll go out looking for the broken, even in the last light.