TWENTY-SIXTH SUNDAY OF YEAR "A"

TWENTY-SIXTH SUNDAY OF YEAR   I

Mt. 21, 28 - 32: The Two Sons

The Nobel Prize laureate Archbishop Desmond Tutu of South Africa sums up the situation with a flourish:  “Christians should be an audio-visual aid to teach other people how to live.”  Today’s parable was one of the three parables that Christ spoke in the last days of his life.  They are known as the Parables of Rejection.  Today’s Gospel is the shortest of the melancholy set of three, and is about the Better of the Two Bad Sons.

Let us first deal with the smooth one.  When asked by his father to go and work in his vineyard, he clicks his heels and answers, “Yes sir,” but does not go.  This son stands for the religious authorities of the day, who were long on mouth and short on deeds. When the Son of God came into this world, these ostensibly pious folk were indecently anxious to kill him.

Now let’s consider the other son, who first said “No” to his old man but thought better of it and went to do what was asked.  This fellow seemed rough and not so ready.  Despite his lack of polish, there was gold in his heart.  He had an integrity, the lack of which is sometimes disguised beneath a civilised exterior. This rough-looking boy was a type for major-league sinners. When they ran into Jesus of Nazareth, they changed their lives. In the time of Jesus, the publicans and harlots were, literally, untouchable; they were pariahs and outcasts.  They may have seemed wealthy and comfortable, but they were hurt by life.  Despite their sinfulness, their hurts and wounds made them open to the Gospel with a generosity of which the so-called holy people were incapable. These publicans and sinners threw in their lot with Jesus.  Matthew, today’s author, was such a character, and so was writing from first hand experience.

We too say “yes” and “no” to God, and it’s more complicated than it looks. It’s hard to see the picture of our own lives, let alone anyone else’s.  It is wiser to leave that to God who sees the whole picture.  It is only by actions that we establish whether we are lovers or frauds.  Actions speak louder than words. A crusty old farmer said,  “Words aren’t worth a barrel of spit.” In the first days, the Church was called “the new way” (Acts 9.2).  If you followed the Teacher, it was never simply a question of memorising the Catechism or mouthing the Ten Commandments.  Rather, your way of life would establish whether you possessed the right stuff.  In the rules laid down by Jesus, the mouth can never be a substitute for performance.  Africa’s Dr. Albert Schweitzer has said: “Personal example is not the most important thing. It is the only thing.”

This parable is not merely a casual failure to do a service that is casually asked of us. It’s more serious than that. There is a hint of this seriousness in the Greek word ‘metameletheis’ which stands for genuine repentance. The point is not that the sons happen to say one thing and do another. Rather, it is that they are seriously committed to one course of action or a way of life  -  either supporting or defying their father. It’s a matter of a life commitment, something serious and stable, the decisive acceptance or rejection of God’s will in our life. This is not a casual matter but a deep-seated and fundamental seriousness of purpose.

The greatest handicap to Jesus Christ is the nasty lives of many Christians.  Each of the baptised is a neon-sign advertisement for the Church.  If our lives fit our mouths, then Christ is home free. But if our conduct reflects the morals of a sleazy lawyer cheating widows of their pensions, then our dear Lord is a big loser.  We who follow Christ must be his stand-ins wherever we find ourselves.  When people meet you and then get to know you, do they then want to learn about Christ ?  Remember how Portia in the Merchant of Venice exulted seeing a burning candle: “How far that little candle throws its beams. So shines a good deed in a naughty world.”  Recently canonised Edith Stein, who died in the Auschwitz death camp, wrote in her biography: “What changed my life one day was to notice a simple old lady come into church with her shopping bag and light a candle before the altar.”  There’s a little line that teaches:  “I cannot hear what you say because I’m too busy listening to what you are.”  That ties up the package nicely.

In today’s parable, neither of the two sons is satisfactory.  Both hurt their father.  True, the guy who said “No” and then obeyed was better. But still he was no great shakes.  What the Teacher is shooting for is a person who says, “Yes, Lord,” and then gets immediately into first speed and delivers the goods.  I guess we see now why Archbishop Desmond Tutu says each of us should be a walking audio-visual to all those around us.

PRAYER (Bro. Roger of Taize)

O Jesus Christ,

tirelessly you seek out those who are looking for you and who think you are far away;  teach us, at every moment, to place our spirits in your hands.

While we are still looking for you, you have already found us.

However poor our prayer, you hear us far more than we can imagine or believe.

I'm sure you've heard the old saying: 
"A wise man changes his mind sometimes; a fool, never!" 

That's a great reply when someone says to you, "But you said a month ago!". . . etc.

In this Sunday's readings, God is giving us advice on when to change our minds, and when not to. If we're pretty well secure in habits of virtue, then it's not a good idea to give in to the persuasions of friends who call us old-fashioned or foolish for following the teachings of our parents and childhood religion classes~~and act contrary to our principles. To change because of fear of losing face or being the butt of ridicule could risk God's displeasure, loss of grace, and even loss of eternal happiness!

There's another kind of change discussed in the readings. And that's the kind of change that may be defined as conversion~~from sinful ways to virtuous ones. That's the kind of change that won the approval of Jesus in the Gospel~~by the first son in the parable. He is the lad who said "no" to his father's request. He was ready to disobey the father, risking his displeasure and even punishment. Then, (wisely), he began to feel guilty. He decided it wouldn't kill him to cut short a good time with his friends to work for his father. Let's hope that it was really love that made him change his mind. But even if it was merely shame, and maybe a little fear of the consequences of his refusal, he did change his mind. If his friends were real friends, they more than likely respected him for his decision.

How different was the behavior of the second son who said "yes" to his father, but then never followed through! He just wanted to look good, and avoid the disappointment and perhaps anger in his father's eyes. He was quite possibly a hypocrite, who had no intention at all of helping in the vineyard. No one likes a hypocrite, not even the hypocrite himself. Of course, he may just have been a weakling, of whom it is said, "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." His problem was loving himself and his own pleasure more than his father.

How do we know when to change our minds and when not to? The second reading gives us sound advice: "Do nothing out of selfishness~~rather, have that mind in you which is in Christ Jesus who humbled Himself even to the point of death." To change one's mind is often humbling, especially if we risk the ridicule of worldly friends or even worldly family members. But isn't it far better than to stubbornly keep to the road that will eventually send us over the proverbial cliff? 

Christ is our sure guide. His teaching for modern times is found in the Catechism of the Catholic Church. Try one of its shorter forms.