Brief synopsis of the readings: Isaiah speaks of his friend who owns a vineyard. He planted choice vines and cared well for the vineyard but it yielded wild (or sour) grapes. Now speaking in the owner’s voice he decrees that he will abandon the vineyard. “The vineyard of the LORD of hosts is the house of Israel, and the people of Judah are his cherished plant; he looked for judgment, but see, bloodshed! for justice, but hark, the outcry!” Matthew’ Gospel describes a parable of Jesus to the chief priests and elders. He also described a landowner who planted a vineyard, leased it to tenants, and left town. On his return he sent servants to collect from the tenants. But the tenants beat one servant, killed one, and stoned the third. The owner then sent more servants with the same result. The owner then sent his own son, expecting a better outcome, but the tenants killed him in hopes of claiming his inheritance. Jesus then asked the chief priests and elders what the landowner would do and they responded that those tenants would be put to death and new tenants would be hired. Jesus agreed and then told them that the stone the builders rejected will become the cornerstone and what was given to them will be taken away and given to those who will bring fruit.

We are coming to the end of the liturgical year and we will see the readings becoming more and more apocryphal, that is, more and more about God’s future actions. And at first blush, these readings appear pretty straightforward. They both describe a vineyard owner who plants a vineyard, does everything right, and sees things fall apart. If we see the vineyard owner as God it’s easy to assume that the fault lies with the grapes (1st reading) and the tenants (Gospel) who will be punished for their wickedness.

And for as long as I can remember we’ve all been cast as the wild grapes or the evil tenants. Because of their apocalyptic nature these readings come as a warning to straighten up or suffer the consequences. Pope John XXIII served in the middle of the last century; when asked what people should do if they found Jesus was on his way he replied: “Look busy.”

But here’s the age old problem: it doesn’t work. In the thousands of years since Isaiah and Matthew put quill to papyrus we’ve seen bad things happen to the faithful and good things happen to the unfaithful. And to the extent that we are all sinners there are times when we all are unfaithful. Many Christians of the last few centuries have developed a belief in the rapture, that there will come a time of God’s choosing when all the good people will be taken immediately to Heaven. This event will come with no warning and no second chances. At that point any repentance will be too late.

I understand the popularity of this belief, and as a former hospice chaplain I well understand the attraction of believing that those raptured will not experience death. But I find it hard to believe that something written that long ago was passed from generation to generation to give “fair warning” to us. And yes, nearly everyone I know who believes this also believes that will happen within the next few years.

But what if we look anew at these readings?

In both readings the vineyard owners hold great affection for their work and put real effort into making them successful. And through no fault of their own things don’t work out. They lose out on the money the grapes would have brought in and the owner in the Gospel lose not only employees but his own son. It’s hard to imagine either of them recovering from this. And since we don’t know the rest of the stories we don’t know what happened to them.

We do know, however, this about God: forgiveness is infinite and it’s never too late to repent. Now matter how craven, or blatant, or stupid. How about a shout out to the the tenants who killed the owner’s son on the belief that murder would lead them to ownership.

Now obviously we are called avoid being sour grapes or kill the owner’s son. But is avoidance of punishment the only reason for doing the right thing? That may work with children but we’re not children. I think we are called to be sweet grapes and faithful servants simply because that’s the right thing to do. Though he wasn’t a Jew or a Christian, the Greek philosopher Aristotle argued this point. He contended that we humans are designed in such a way that doing the right thing provides the only path to happiness. He’s on to something: sour grapes and murderous servants may experience momentary satisfaction but never true happiness.

When I was growing up I had a classmate who lived up the street. He was one of those kids you could only play with once in a while because he was always complaining that he was being treated unfairly. One day I made the mistake of playing Monopoly with him. If you remember the game had strict rules about how much money you could start with (2 $500 bills, 2 $100 bills, etc.). He decided that wasn’t fair and took five of each the denominations. Not to brag but I took the correct amount, much less than him, and still beat him. We never played Monopoly again and I think it really bothered him that he cheated and still lost. But even had he won, what would it have given him? He knew he cheated and any victory would have been hollow.

Finally there are times when we are the vineyard owner. Even when we care for our vineyard and our grapes there will be times when things don’t work out for us. But if we keep our eyes on God and recognize that doing the right thing is the only path to God and true happiness, we will do well.

And ultimately it won’t matter if our grapes turn sour or our servants turn murderous. We will still be us.