Daily Reflection

In this short, powerful parable, Jesus presents us with a mirror for our own souls. A father asks his two sons to go and work in his vineyard. The first says “I will not,” but later changes his mind and goes. The second says “Yes, sir,” but does not go. Jesus then poses the piercing question: “Which of the two did his father’s will?”

The answer is obvious, and so is the lesson: Action, not words alone, is the true measure of our fidelity to God.

This parable strikes at the heart of a perennial spiritual danger: the gap between our pious affirmations and our actual obedience. How often do we, in the comfort of our prayers and liturgies, say “Yes, Lord!” to God’s call—to forgive, to serve the poor, to live chastely, to be humble, to take up our cross—only to find our actions lagging behind when the moment of decision arrives? We are the second son, respectful in speech but negligent in deed.

Conversely, the first son represents a profound hope: the hope of conversion. His initial “no” is blunt, even dishonorable. Yet, he is moved by a second thought, a change of heart. The Greek word used here, metamelomai, implies regret, a shift in concern. He repents of his refusal and acts. This is the journey of every saint who ever stumbled at first: Peter denying Christ, Paul persecuting the Church, Augustine praying “Lord, make me chaste, but not yet.” Their initial “no” was transformed by grace into a definitive “yes” written in the blood of their lives.

Jesus then makes a startling application. He tells the chief priests and elders that “tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God before you.” Why? Because these outcasts, like the first son, heard the call to repentance from John the Baptist—a call to concrete action—and they believed and changed their lives. The religious leaders, for all their verbal orthodoxy and ritual observance, did not. Their “yes” was empty.

For us as Catholics, this parable is a urgent examination of conscience:

Where is my “yes” merely verbal? In what areas of my life—my family relationships, my work ethics, my treatment of others, my moral choices—do I profess one thing with my lips but live another? Do I reduce my faith to a series of affirmations without the labor in the vineyard?

Where is God calling me from a “no” to a “yes”? We all have areas of resistance. The parable assures us that a past refusal is not the final word. The Father’s invitation stands. The vineyard is still there, waiting for our labor. The sacrament of Reconciliation is precisely God’s grace to help us move from the “no” of sin to the “yes” of renewed mission.

Who are the “first sons” in our midst? We must guard against the pride of the elders. Those who seem far from God, who may have said a loud “no” to a moral life, often experience the most profound conversions and put our lukewarm “yes” to shame. We must learn from their zeal.

The vineyard is the world, the Church, our own souls—the place where God’s will is to be done. Our Blessed Mother is the perfect model of the faithful child, whose “Yes” at the Annunciation (“Let it be done to me according to your word”) was fulfilled in a lifetime of obedient action, all the way to the foot of the Cross.

Let us pray, then, for the honesty to see where our actions contradict our words, for the humility to repent of our refusals, and for the grace to be not just hearers of the Word, but doers. May our Eucharist today be not an empty “Yes, sir,” but the strength that sends us out to truly work in the vineyard of the Lord.

Come, Holy Spirit, melt my resistance, align my will with the Father’s, and make my life a faithful “yes” to you, in deed and in truth. Amen.