St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD
September 20, 2026
Year A, Proper 20: The Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost
Jonah 3:10-4:11
Psalm 145:1-8
Philippians 1:21-30
Matthew 20:1-16
Well, fortunately, we had a "somewhat" less intense week here at St. Thomas’.
Yesterday afternoon, we celebrated the third and final of our September weddings. Gordie Schroeder and Maggie Winkler exchanged some big promises, pledging to give one another joy, vowing to be there for each other in times prosperity and adversity, always, no matter what.
It was a particularly sweet wedding – Gordie was so excited, so joyful, that he broke with tradition and kissed his bride right at the start of the service, rather than waiting for my invitation at the end!
And, you know, why not?
And, last week, as most of you know, I announced my long-planned sabbatical – a time of rest and renewal that, believe me, I recognize is quite a gift and privilege – I know it’s not something that most people get to experience.
I’m very grateful – and I’ll have more to say about that next week.
But, of course, much of the week was spent absorbing the death of Jim Wolgamott.
I’ve sat with my own grief – Jim was both a parishioner and also a good friend.
And I’ve talked with some of you as you have reflected on Jim’s beautiful life of love and generosity.
And, no surprise, during this past week many of you have surrounded John with so much love and support.
I’ve also been especially touched by the grief in our Afghan community.
Jim gave countless hours to helping our Afghan friends – driving them to appointments, helping them navigate American bureaucracy, sharing his wisdom, giving driving lessons, celebrating joyful events, and consoling them in times of fear and disappointment.
This work meant the world to Jim – he couldn’t talk about our Afghan friends without tearing up.
And now these people who have endured so much upheaval, so much suffering and loss, but have somehow remained so grateful, kind, and generous – in fact, one family has provided delicious food for today’s fellowship – these people who could have grown understandably callous and coldhearted – they are deeply mourning Jim – and they’ve been sharing the most beautiful tributes.
Here’s just one example:
“This world has lost a truly humble, caring, kind, and beautiful human being. Jim, the love you shared with everyone will never be forgotten. We will continue to follow your path and carry your legacy in our hearts. Rest in peace, Jim. Love you always.”
So beautiful, right?
How generous of God to dream up Jim and share him with us for a time.
How generous God is to us.
And how generous God is to others – how generous God is to others, including people we might think do not deserve God’s generosity – you know, the people who do bad things, the people perceived to be our enemies, the people who sure seem to be getting way more than they deserve.
You know, those people.
Which brings us to today’s Bible lessons.
Today we heard two of my favorite Bible passages: the first is the end of the Book of Jonah.
In case you’ve forgotten the Jonah story – in case all you remember is the whale (or, actually, the “big fish”), here’s a quick recap:
God had called Jonah to preach repentance to the people of the city of Nineveh, the capital of the Assyrian Empire – and, God says, if the people of Nineveh don’t change their ways, God would destroy the city.
But the Assyrian Empire was an enemy of the people of Israel and, frankly, Jonah doesn’t want to go there, and he certainly doesn’t want to convince them to repent.
Jonah has no problem at all with God wiping out the people of Nineveh.
Please, Lord, go right ahead - let them die!
So, to avoid God’s call to Nineveh, Jonah gets himself on a boat heading in the opposite direction.
But God is nothing if not persistent, so God kicks up a fierce storm, and long story made short, Jonah gets thrown overboard and, in the most famous part of the story, Jonah is swallowed by a big fish.
Now, I’m pretty sure that three days and nights in the belly of a big fish will get you rethinking your life choices - and so, no surprise, Jonah prays for salvation, which our generous God gives him.
Given a second chance, Jonah now goes to Nineveh and reluctantly calls the people of the great city to repent before it’s too late.
And sure enough, everyone from the king on down puts on sackcloth and ashes – they repent – and God spares the city.
But Jonah, he is none too pleased.
Jonah is not pleased, but he’s not surprised.
Jonah knows that God is gracious, merciful, loving – he knew that God is “unreasonably” generous – generous enough to release him from the belly of the big fish, generous enough to spare our enemy, generous towards the people we like the least, even the people we hate.
And it’s interesting that the end of the Book of Jonah is not neat and tidy.
God asks Jonah a rhetorical question, “Should I not be concerned about Nineveh, that great city?”
And that’s the end.
We never hear Jonah’s answer – though maybe we can imagine it.
And maybe we can imagine our answer, too.
What do we do with God’s “unreasonable” generosity towards people we don’t like or trust, the people who’ve done wrong, who’ve gotten away with something, the people we think don’t deserve God’s generosity?
I love today’s parable – often called the Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard, but maybe it should be called the Parable of the Generous Landowner.
I love this parable because I am absolutely sure that our reaction is exactly the same as people 2000 years ago.
We sympathize with – we identify with - the workers who have been out in the vineyard all day – I mean, that’s some hard work – they’ve been out there under the sun, bent over the vines, and, wait for it, they get paid the same as workers who got hired in the middle of the afternoon or even those hired at the end of the day!
Yes, OK, it’s true that the early morning workers are getting exactly what they were promised, but still, whether it’s the first century or the twenty-first, we cry out:
“Not fair!”
“Not fair!”
It’s not fair.
But, God is not fair.
God is better than fair.
God is “unreasonably” generous – and sometimes we don’t like that at all!
We all know that we are living in a time of many troubles:
War, environmental catastrophes, rising prices.
A time of dividing and tearing down rather than uniting and building up.
There are troubles right here in our own community: illnesses, broken relationships, fear, regret, and, of course, grief.
This past week, as I’ve talked with people about Jim’s death, some have said it’s not fair that we lost such a good man, not fair because there are so many not-good-at-all, not-loving-at-all, not-generous-at-all people who continue to walk the earth, doing so much damage.
I get it, of course.
And I confess that the same thought has crossed my mind.
And it is sorely tempting to be bitter like Jonah and resentful like the morning laborers.
That cry of “Not fair!” might even feel good - for a little while, anyway
But we know that bitterness, resentment, and anger will only harden our hearts.
This is not the way.
Like our Afghan friends who have endured so much, the way for us is gratitude - gratitude that God is “unreasonably” generous.
Gratitude for young love like Gordie and Maggie’s, love that just can’t wait for a kiss.
Gratitude that we are part of this beautiful community where we hold one another close, especially in times of fear, pain, and grief.
Gratitude that God never abandons us in the belly of the beast.
Gratitude that God gave us Jim Wolgamott.
Gratitude that Jim’s life embodies the Way, points us to the Way:
The Way of love, forgiveness, generosity, and gratitude –– the Way of Jesus – the Way of our “unreasonably” generous God – the Way that always leads us to new life.
Amen.

