A Sermon for the Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 20, Year A)
September 20, 2026
Text: Matthew 20:1-16
Now, O Lord, take my lips, and speak through them. Take our minds, and think through them. Take our hearts, and set them on fire. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
There are some parables of Jesus that are easier for us to hear than others. We understand what Jesus is trying to teach us, and we’re right there with him.
And then there are parables like the one we hear this morning that make us a little uncomfortable.
Because if we’re being honest, there’s something about this story that doesn’t seem quite fair.
Jesus tells his disciples about a landowner who goes out early in the morning to hire people to work in his vineyard. He finds some workers, agrees to pay them the usual daily wage, and sends them out to work.
A few hours later—around nine o’clock—he goes out again and finds more people who need work. So he sends them into the vineyard, too.
Then he goes out again at noon.
And again at three.
And then again—around five o’clock—he goes out when there’s hardly any time left in the work day.
Each time he goes out, he finds people who haven’t been hired yet, and he says basically the same thing: “You also go into the vineyard.”
Then, at the end of the day, the landowner gathers all the workers together and pays them.
And that’s when things get interesting.
The people who arrived at five o’clock—who had only worked for about an hour—receive a full day’s wage.
So naturally, the people who’ve been there the longest get excited. They probably think to themselves, “If they got that much, imagine what we’re going to get.”
But when their turn comes, they receive the same amount as everyone else. And they’re not happy about it.
And I have to admit, I understand where they’re coming from.
They worked all day. They did most of the work. And these other people showed up at the last minute and received exactly the same thing.
It doesn’t seem fair, does it?
But I wonder if sometimes we get so focused on the workers in this story—who worked the longest and who received what—that we miss out on the person Jesus really wants us to notice.
That’s the landowner.
There’s something remarkable going on with the landowner.
He doesn’t just go out once looking for workers.
He goes out again and again looking for people to work in the vineyard.
And if we see the landowner as an image of God, then maybe Jesus is trying to tell us something important about who God is.
God never stops calling people into the vineyard. God never stops calling people to follow the way of Jesus and to work for the building up of his kingdom.
That invitation began a long time ago.
Jesus called disciples like Peter and Andrew and James and John.
“Follow me,” he said, and they did.
Then eventually, others joined them.
Then more came after that.
And through the centuries, generations of Christians have followed.
Until finally—somewhere along the way—someone told us about Jesus and invited us to follow.
The same thing is true about St. Mary’s.
None of us started this church. None of us started the work that God has been doing here since the 1940s.
Generations of people were worshiping and praying and loving their neighbors through this parish long before most of us ever walked through those doors.
Some of you have been part of St. Mary’s for decades.
Others have only been here a short time.
But every one of us stepped into something that was already happening long before we arrived.
And one day, our chapter in the story of St. Mary’s will be over.
Someone else will sit in our pew.
Someone else will serve at the altar.
Someone else will prepare the meals and teach the children and visit the sick and sing in the choir and serve on the vestry and do all the other things that make up the life and ministry of this parish.
Because, like I mentioned in my sermon last week, this church doesn’t belong to us.
It belongs to God.
And part of our responsibility here is to make room for the people who will come after us—to invite others to join us in ministry.
As your priest, I see it all the time.
I’ve watched people come into this community who were new and weren’t quite sure where they fit in or what they had to offer.
And then someone invited them to get involved.
Maybe they stopped at a table during a Ministry Fair. Or maybe they had a conversation with someone who was already involved in a ministry and that person said, “Come and join us.”
And they started to notice that they had gifts to offer as well.
They found things they enjoyed doing and formed relationships with new friends.
And before long, they weren’t simply attending St. Mary’s anymore.
They had become part of the ministry of this church.
Sometimes all it takes is an invitation.
That’s what the landowner does in our parable this morning.
He goes out. He meets people who are looking for work. And he says: “You also go into the vineyard.”
There’s a place for you here.
I think that’s something we all need to hear.
Because sometimes we assume ministry is for other people.
It’s for the people who’ve been here the longest or the people who already know how everything works.
Or maybe we think ministry is only for the people who have their lives figured out or people who are more faithful than we are.
But if you don’t hear anything else from my sermon this morning, please hear this: there is no pre-requisite for serving God.
God meets us where we are and calls us all to work in the vineyard.
Whether you’ve been here thirty years or thirty minutes, there’s a place for you at St. Mary’s to discover how God is calling you to serve.
But, of course, that still leaves us with the uncomfortable part of Jesus’ story. Because at the end of the day, everyone gets paid the same.
And the people who’ve worked the longest don’t like it.
But we should remember something about the beginning of the story. The landowner hasn’t cheated anyone.
He gives them exactly what he promised. Their problem isn’t really with what they received. It’s what everyone else received.
They see the landowner’s generosity toward those who arrived later, and suddenly what seemed fair that morning no longer seems fair at all.
In this story, Jesus isn’t talking about wages. He’s talking about grace.
Because grace isn’t something God gives us according to how much we deserve or how much we try to earn.
Grace isn’t a paycheck for doing hard work.
It’s a gift.
We don’t accumulate more of God’s love because we’ve been Christians longer or because we’ve served on more committees or volunteered more of our time or given more money.
God’s grace is freely given.
And that means the work we do can never be transactional.
We don’t serve God so that God will love us more. We serve because God already loves us more than we can possibly imagine.
We don’t serve in order to earn God’s grace. We serve because we’ve already received it.
That’s why everything we do in service to God and others—whether it’s volunteering our time at Rice and Beans or serving in worship on Sunday morning—should be done with a spirit of gratitude and thanksgiving.
Later this morning, after worship, we’ll be having our annual Ministry Fair.
When you walk into the Parish Hall, you’ll see tables and displays set up around the room representing many of the different ministries that make up the life of our church.
And yes, there will be opportunities to sign up and volunteer.
But what I hope you’ll see this morning at the Ministry Fair is something more than just a recruitment drive.
I hope you’ll see it as a sign that ministry is happening all the time here at church, and there are so many opportunities to serve.
Because church is more than just what happens here on Sunday mornings. We don’t come here one a week, spend an hour with God, and then put our faith away until next Sunday.
What we do here prepares us for what we do out there.
We hear the Word of God. We pray. We confess our sins. We gather around the table and receive the Body and Blood of Christ. And then we’re sent out.
Ministry doesn’t end on Sunday mornings. It’s where ministry begins.
There are plenty of ways to serve God during worship, and all of that’s important. But the ministry of this church continues throughout the week.
It happens when hungry people are fed or when someone who is sick or homebound receives a visit.
It happens when children and young people learn about the love of God and are reminded that God is always with them.
Ministry happens when someone prepares a meal or washes dishes.
It happens when people gather to make prayer shawls or when people donate coats and blankets for those in need.
All of that is ministry.
So when you walk into the Parish Hall this morning and see all those tables set up, I want you to think about our Gospel lesson for this morning.
Every table—every display—represents some little corner of the vineyard that God is calling us to tend.
And the invitation is open to everyone: “Come and join us.”
Come and see what God is doing in and through this church.
Come and discover the gifts God has given you.
Come and find your place in ministry.
Or maybe you’re already involved in several ministries and your call for today is to invite someone new to join us in the work that God has given us to do.
That’s what the landowner does.
Early in the morning, he goes out and looks for people to tend the vineyard. And then again and again, he goes out. Still looking, still inviting.
Because there’s still work to be done.
There are still people to be welcomed.
There are still gifts waiting to be discovered.
That invitation began long before us and will continue long after we’re gone.
But for this moment, this is our part of the vineyard—our part of God’s Kingdom—to tend.
So whether you’ve been here for decades or you’re brand new to our church, hear the invitation again:
God is calling people to work in the vineyard.
And there’s room for you, too.
Amen.
The Rev. Eric Mancil 