Sour Grapes are made into whine

What’s up with the Scripture readings for the past three weeks? Now I recognize that two weeks ago a special feast with its own proper readings fell on a Sunday, but those readings, last week’s, and today’s really hit us where it hurts: the ego! That’s God’s Word for you: our heavenly Father and holy Mother Church upholding a united front of discipline—not so much punishment as the raw exposure to the consequences of our thoughts. We’re not even talking actions here: God’s Word lays bare our very thoughts and feelings, calling the thinkers of those thoughts and the feelers of those feelings to repentance and conversion. Where else do our actions originate, if not in our thoughts? That is why, at every turn, the biblical authors invite us to “put on the mind of Christ”; if we do that, we will conduct ourselves as He does.

Two weeks ago, we heard the wearied Israelites complaining about their journey in the desert. Understandably so: what started as a kind of “three-hour tour” ended up as a forty-year ordeal, the hare losing to the tortoise. Only after a snakebite epidemic hit them did they recognize their fault. Last week, the prophet Isaiah reminded us that our thoughts and ways are not God’s; the disparity between them calls us to forsake our fashion and align with the divine. The vineyard owner pays what He will, the last-minute laborer enjoying the same treatment as the one who happened to be out all day.

Today we return to the vineyard, whether another parable finds us making whine from sour grapes. That’s w-h-i-n-e. Jesus calls the chief priests and elders hiding in the trench of entitlement. They expose themselves to be God’s “yes-men,” the sons who agreed to work in the morning but failed to follow through on their pious promise. Contrast them with the lifelong sinner who genuinely recognizes his errors in the eleventh hour: while there may be considerable human wreckage to repair, our generous God guarantees that a truly contrite heart will not be crushed for good. Praise God that the light dawned when it did—far better for repentant tax-collectors and prostitutes than for chief priests and elders who think that their early-morning “yes” will carry them through the day. Theologian Hans Von Balthasar puts it this way: “A late conversion is better than the self-righteous delusion that one needs no conversion.”

Maybe we heard God’s command in the morning, but said No: but if a shred of honesty remains in us, we can’t finish the day without hearing that command echo in our hollow hearts. “Get to work.” If the Scriptures, the Church, and the informed conscience have one purpose, it’s to ruin the pleasure of sinning for us. “You say, ‘The Lord’s way is not fair!’ Hear now, house of Israel—hear now, new Israel called the Church—is it my way that is unfair, or rather, are not your ways unfair?” But we can’t lament the unfairness of God’s ways unless we’ve first heard them: that’s why the Church unceasingly speaks the voice of truth as she does. If it sounds like a big No in a Yes-happy world, so be it. We’ll thank God when we grow up; we won’t finish the day of our lives before turning around—converting—and doing what our Father asked us to do in the first place.

Saint Paul urges the Philippians of old and the Christians of new to “have…the same attitude that is also in Christ Jesus.” Above all, it is a posture of obedience, an inclined ear and willing hands, unity of mind and body with the lawgiver. Not just “do as I say,” but rather, “think as I think.” If we accuse the Church of attempting mind-control, we’ve so missed the point. The Church does not forbid certain things because “I’m the Mother,” nor does she discourage us from seeking to understand the reasons behind the prohibition of, for example, artificial contraception or same-sex activity. In order to help us understand what we believe and how we must live, Paul sets forth a spiritual program of action. The obedient person does “nothing out of selfishness or out of vainglory”; he humbly regards others as more important than himself; she willingly looks out for others’ interests before her own. We take our cue from the Crucified and Glorified Christ, who had every reason in heaven, on earth, and under the earth to be defiant—but couldn’t even think about it.

So who’s fair? Who cares? What difference does it make? Do the right actions, the Lord tells us, and the feelings will follow. And if they don’t follow, well, a Yes with obedience in the bank is better than a Yes without it.