There is a prayer we used to pray during the offertory at church—many of you may remember it.

 

“All things come of Thee Oh Lord, and of Thine own have we given thee.”

 

In this prayer, we are reminded that those gifts that we offer back to God, were in fact received from God to begin with.

 

Our Gospel lesson today speaks to this truth.

 

When reading a passage of scripture, I often find myself looking for two things—the first is the good news that this passage proclaims. What does it tell me about the Kingdom of God? What does it tell me about the love of our Lord? Where is the liberation or the beauty or the healing proclaimed?

 

The second is the challenge — how is God using this word to challenge us to new things? To grow in our faith or to repent or to live more fully?

 

As you heard me sharing with the children earlier, I see such good news in this story, despite its rather somber overtones.

 

The good news I see is that God, God’s self is the Creator of this, our vineyard—and he tends us with care and provides a wall of protection and a watchtower to keep us safe, and in the winepress, God provides a way for the fruit of our labors to be used for such joy. 

 

As I walk through my garden each day I feel a connection with each plant and tree. I long to see each one thriving and becoming its fullest self. And I imagine God seeing each of us in that same way. This is Good News.

 

But what about the challenge:

 

In this gospel reading today, Jesus is recollecting a familiar parable the people have heard before—from the scroll of Isaiah.

 

In Isaiah the story begins this way:

 

I will sing for the one I love a song about his vineyard: My loved one had a vineyard on a fertile hillside.


He dug it up and cleared it of stones and planted it with the choicest vines. He built a watchtower in it and cut out a winepress as well.

 

Then Jesus takes a turn. In the Isaiah passage the story is about the grapes themselves and why it is that they are not yielding fruit true to their nature—why they are sour, when they should be sweet, why there is bloodshed, where there should be justice, why there are cries of distress, where righteousness should reign.

 

But in today’s Gospel, Jesus turns and directs the focus of the story to the Tenants or the Vinedressers or Stewards of the land.

 

So to whom is it being addressed? Near the end of our Gospel reading it says that the chief priests and the Pharisees understand that Jesus is talking about them in his parable. And often it is preached as the vineyard is going to be taken away from them and given to us.

 

But anytime I hear about the Pharisees—I have learned that I should give a glance to myself as well. After all, the Pharisees were people who studied the Bible religiously as do I. They were people who tried to separate themselves from sinful actions as do I, and they were often leaders among the people as am I. And I dare to say many of these things might be true about you as well.

 

But we resist—the Pharisees are known as being a “Do as I say and not as I do” kind of people. They are known as being hypocrites in their walk of faith, judging others, but failing to look closely at their own failings. They are known for feeling proud when others notice how well they pray or how faithful they are in attendance.

 

I never do any of those things — or do I?

 

You never do any of those things — or do you?

 

In fact, I find it is always a good wake up call to check in my own life whatever the Pharisees are being challenged about.

 

So here goes. The term used in the Greek says that they are the Vinedressers, they are trained and capable stewards of the vineyard. And apparently in the story they are in fact bringing about a harvest of fruit.

 

So we look in our own lives — what gifts have we been given to use? What opportunities has God placed us in? What vineyard has he carefully built up and carved out and placed us in that we might bear much fruit?

 

And yet, like the Vinedressers in our story, we start thinking that we are the one working here. We have put in all this time on this vineyard or this job, We are the one who has invested ourselves in these children or this church. This is really ours — we are the ones who should reap all the benefits. We are the one who should get all the praise and all the credit. 

 

Maybe we will just ignore those servants who have come to remind us that this is actually God’s thing — it’s God’s vineyard, or God’s work, or God’s children or God’s church. Maybe we will find a way to silence them so we can go on believing that it is really all Ours.

 

Maybe that is why the Landowner sent his Son—to remind them and us that it all actually belongs to Him and that God just asks us to tend the part we know how to tend and to listen to the breath of his spirit as he walks through the garden of our lives — to hear his heart rejoice as we bring forth gifts from our labors.

 

When my two-year-old godson is over at the house he loves to go into the garden — he loves to look to see if anything is ripe enough to pick. He giggles with delight when he finds a squash or a bell pepper that he can harvest — and sometimes he just pops them in his mouth and says, “Yum!” And sometimes he wants to run and show them to his moms or us. 

 

He wants to share what he finds. 

He doesn’t want to horde it.

 

He sees it all as gift and he is learning to be a caretaker of the garden. 

 

To be gentle with the new flowers, to return earthworms to their homes,

learning that each plant needs water and light but in different amounts.

He is learning to respect everything — even the things he doesn’t understand. 

 

I want to follow his example.

I want to be that kind of Steward -- the kind of Steward  that rejoices in all that God has entrusted to me and shares it joyously with the world.

 

All things come of Thee oh Lord, and of Thine own have we given Thee.

By Paula Jefferson December 8, 2025
By Tanya Eiserer November 23, 2025
We all look for something to steer for us. My mom often said, “Be careful what you wish for”. She never explained what it meant…she didn’t have to. Often, when we wish for something, there are unintended consequences. I’m an early-adapter with all things technology. When self-driving cars became a thing, it was at the top of my wish list. And then one night, my car downloaded a software update that allowed me to try fully self-driving mode for thirty days. Free. They were speaking my language. Much of the time, that software worked beautifully. But one night I was driving home from the church…through the Fort Worth mix-master. At the best of times, the mix-master is a test of faith. That night, I realized…a little too late…that my car didn’t “see” vehicles merging from my right at highway speeds. A car darted in front of me at 55mph. My car panicked. It slammed on the brakes, forcing everyone behind me to do the same. Tires were squealing and I may have said a few choice words. Then a calm robotic voice came through my speaker: “What just happened?” Without thinking, I answered, “We’re all going to need clean clothes!”—a reminder that trusting the wrong kind of power can create more chaos than good. Three thousand years ago, the Israelites faced a similar challenge. They had judges—and they had Yahweh—but they were not satisfied. The nations around them had kings and queens…and Israel longed for a visible symbol of power: a government that looked strong and invincible to their neighbors. “Give us a king,” they said, “like other nations.” [1] Samuel warned them: “…in that day you will cry out because of your king, whom you have chosen for yourselves; but the Lord will not answer you in that day” [2] Be careful what you wish for. God’s warning is clear: the king you want will take more from you than he gives. And history shows it. Saul and David and their successors ruled. But, human power systems fail…they always have…we are no strangers to that in our own time. After Solomon, the kingdom split into the northern kingdom of Israel and the southern kingdom of Judah. Leaders often sought their own gain instead of tending to the people, especially the most vulnerable. By Jeremiah’s time, Judah itself teetered on collapse. Yet God speaks through the prophet, offering hope, promise, and vision of restoration. “I will gather the remnant of my flock…I will raise up shepherds over them who will shepherd them, and they shall not fear any longer. The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, and he shall reign wisely and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land.” [3] Jeremiah is speaking God’s words here—a promise of a king unlike any human ruler. Not a king who exploits or coerces, but a shepherd who tends the scattered, who watches over the vulnerable, and who leads with justice and care. Luke shows us that shepherd in the most unexpected place: on a cross. Even there, Christ gathers the lost and welcomes the outsider—the very people no one expects to matter. Colossians describes the cosmic dimension of this shepherd—the One who reigns over all creation and reconciles all things through love. This shepherd’s kingdom is not defined by force—but by mercy; not by fear—but by reconciliation; not by scarcity—but by eternal gift. And here is the Advent connection: the King we await is already among us—reigning in ways that the world does not expect—and has never expected. Christ’s reign is not deferred to the end times. It is now. For those who long for a dramatic return of Jesus…scrutinizing hidden messages and timetables…be careful what you wish for. Christ’s reign is not waiting on a cosmic clock. It is already present, entrusted to us --the mystical Body of Christ-- in this world, in this moment. And that realization is sobering. Because if Christ reigns through mercy, reconciliation, and self-giving love, then we—his Body—are called to reign in that way too. In our families, we are called to speak truth in love and care for one another. In our workplaces and communities, we are called to act justly, to lift up the vulnerable, to speak for those without voice, and to forgive the one who has wronged us. In the simple moments of everyday life—offering a kind word, feeding the hungry, welcoming the outsider—we participate in the Shepherd’s reign. Advent invites us to practice that reign, to trust that heart, to embody God’s kingdom in the everyday moments of our lives. We all look for something to steer for us. Christ the King reminds us: the safest driver is not me…or a throne…or even a Tesla. The only true driver is God. In Advent, we learn to let go, trust God, and follow, even when the road ahead is uncertain. Thanks be to God. [1] 1 Samuel 8:5 [2] 1 Samuel 8:10-18 [3] Jeremiah 23:3-5
By Paula Jefferson November 2, 2025
It has only been a few months since we last heard this particular Gospel reading. While I was driving up and down Highway 35 last week, I thought about how we might approach the text differently…especially on All Saints Sunday. This is the day we remember all the faithful people who have gone before us…ordinary and extraordinary folks who lived lives of love, mercy, courage and hope. I began with questions: Who is a saint? Who is not a saint? The second question is much easier to answer. We can all think of people throughout history who would definitely not fit any definition of sainthood. But the other question is harder. It brought to mind a character who wears a red suit, big white beard, moves around in a sleigh pulled by reindeer. Santa Claus is an icon of generosity. But is that the fullness of a saintly life? We often admire people for what shines outwardly: strength, beauty, power, fame, athleticism, traveling the globe on Christmas Eve delivering millions of gifts…because that stuff is easy to see and easy to glorify. But Luke is reminding us that true blessedness looks very different…it is found in the poor, the hungry, those who mourn. Blessed are those who are rejected or marginalized because they embody love…feeding the hungry, forgiving enemies, speaking truth to power. Paraphrasing Jesus: Blessed are you who are living in such a way that your life looks like mine. So what are the signs of a Christ-shaped--or saintly--life? To answer that, I drew from Jesus’s sermon on the Plain and a few well-known saints. 1. Humility —Jesus said, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.” Richard Foster devoted his life to guiding Christians into deeper spiritual formation. He described humility as the freedom to see ourselves truthfully, to rely fully on God, and to serve others without seeking recognition. [1] Humility reflects the blessedness of those who recognize their dependence on God. 2. Courage —Jesus said, “But I say to you who hear: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.” Dietrich Bonhoeffer devoted his life to following Christ faithfully in a world that was in moral and political crisis. He said that moral courage is nurtured in the context of faithful Christian community. Courage is faithfully doing what is right, trusting God’s guidance, even when it costs us. [2] His moral courage exemplifies living faithfully in the face of evil. 3. Joy —Jesus said, “Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied…Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.” Henri Nouwen devoted his life to helping others encounter God’s love through prayer, presence, and compassionate service…especially alongside the most vulnerable among us. He said that joy does not simply happen to us. We have to choose joy and keep choosing it every day. It is a choice based in the knowledge that we belong to God and have found in God our refuge and our safety and that nothing, not even death, can take God away from us. [3] 4. Love and mercy in action — Jesus said, “Do to others as you would have them do to you.” Mother Teresa devoted her life to making Christ’s love tangible through service to the poorest, sickest, and most marginalized people in the world. For her, love was not an abstract idea—it was what you do with your hands and heart every day. She incarnated mercy in action, making tangible the call to bless and serve others. 5. Faithfulness in difficulty —Jesus said, “Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man.” Martin Luther King, Jr. devoted his life to pursuing justice and equality through nonviolence and love rooted in faith and moral conviction. He said, “The ultimate measure of a [person] is not where they stand in moments of comfort and convenience, but where they stand at times of challenge and controversy.” [4] His nonviolent witness and moral perseverance reflect Jesus’ promise of blessing for those who are persecuted and remain steadfast in their faith. There’s something of a paradox here that drew my attention. Each of these Christ-shaped lives emerged in response to real suffering, injustice or need. If Christianity had not moved through a period of superficial evangelism in the 20 th Century, we would not know Richard Foster. Without Adolf Hitler and the evil that surrounded him, we would not know Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s name. He would be a little-known academician teaching systematic theology. Without societies that toss aside people with disabilities, Henri Nouwen would have been a Roman Catholic priest none of us knew. Without human class systems that devalue whole groups of people, Mother Teresa would not be a household name. Without systemic racism, Martin Luther King, Jr. would have been a Baptist preacher in an Atlanta Church. We would not know his name. Each of these people responded to the wounds and injustices they saw in their own time in their own backyard. They took up the cross of love and carried it just a little farther. And I wonder if that quality is the benchmark of sainthood? As I look around this congregation, I see 100 saints: people who walk into classrooms every day, prepared to teach growing minds; people who walk with friends going through difficulties like loss of memory; people who feed the hungry: with meals on wheels, Union Gospel Mission, food pantries in Fort worth, and in leper colonies far away; people who make bed rolls for the homeless; Sunday School teachers who faithfully prepare to help children, youth, and adults grow in faith. People who extend hospitality to us and to St. Matthew’s and to families who gather here to celebrate the lives of their saints. Friends, we live in a very challenging era of American life. Everywhere we look, we see signs of division, misunderstanding, and an inability to work together for the common good. It is, I think, a reflection of a deep dysfunction in our culture….an incapacity to listen well, to negotiate in good faith, and to compromise for the sake of the whole. In times like this, the calling of the Church is extraordinary. We are called to embody the values of God’s reign: faithfulness, humility, courage, joy, and love---showing the world what it means to live differently, even when society struggles to do so. We, too, must take up the cross of love in our own lives, carrying it just a little farther each day. And as we do, we join the great communion of saints who have walked before us, who have borne witness to God’s love in times of trial, and who now cheer us on as we continue the journey. [1] Richard J Foster; Celebration of Discipline: The Path to Spiritual Growth [2] Dietrich Bonhoeffer; Life Together [3] Henri Nouwen; Spirituality & Practice [4] Martin Luther King, Jr; Strength to Love 1963
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