|A vineyard near Taize|
all this talk of vineyards,
and disastrous tenants!
It's more than I can take in this Sunday.
So I simplify:
It's we who are your vineyard.
You plant us where you want us,
fence us in with your love,
build a watchtower
so you can keep an eye on us,
and dig a wine press
for the harvest of our sorrows and joys.
You, our Tender God, attend to us
with the greatest of care,
and no matter how we produce,
you are jealous for us
because you love us.
In the Song of Songs you say
"Come, my beloved,
let us go forth into the fields,
and lodge in the villages;
let us go out early to the vineyards,
and see whether the vines have budded,
whether the grape blossoms have opened
and the pomegranates are in bloom.
There I will give you my love."
In the face of your tenderness,
how can we help but give our all for you?