The texts from the Roman Catholic Lectionary today challenge us to assess our sincerity as evidenced in the choices we make about how we practice our faith in Jesus.
Heartfelt Work
The reading from the Prophet Zephaniah describes the response to the wickedness of Jerusalem.
* [3:1] The tyrannical city: Jerusalem.1
Psalm 34 offers praise for Deliverance from Trouble.
* [Psalm 34] A thanksgiving in acrostic form, each line beginning with a successive letter of the Hebrew alphabet. In this Psalm one letter is missing and two are in reverse order. The psalmist, fresh from the experience of being rescued (Ps 34:5, 7), can teach the “poor,” those who are defenseless, to trust in God alone (Ps 34:4, 12). God will make them powerful (Ps 34:5–11) and give them protection (Ps 34:12–22).2
The Gospel of Matthew presents the lesson of the Parable of the Two Sons.
* [21:28–32] The series of controversies is interrupted by three parables on the judgment of Israel (Mt 21:28–22:14) of which this, peculiar to Matthew, is the first. The second (Mt 21:33–46) comes from Mark (12:1–12), and the third (Mt 22:1–14) from Q; see Lk 14:15–24. This interruption of the controversies is similar to that in Mark, although Mark has only one parable between the first and second controversy. As regards Matthew’s first parable, Mt 21:28–30 if taken by themselves could point simply to the difference between saying and doing, a theme of much importance in this gospel (cf. Mt 7:21; 12:50); that may have been the parable’s original reference. However, it is given a more specific application by the addition of Mt 21:31–32. The two sons represent, respectively, the religious leaders and the religious outcasts who followed John’s call to repentance. By the answer they give to Jesus’ question (Mt 21:31) the leaders condemn themselves. There is much confusion in the textual tradition of the parable. Of the three different forms of the text given by important textual witnesses, one has the leaders answer that the son who agreed to go but did not was the one who did the father’s will. Although some scholars accept that as the original reading, their arguments in favor of it seem unconvincing. The choice probably lies only between a reading that puts the son who agrees and then disobeys before the son who at first refuses and then obeys, and the reading followed in the present translation. The witnesses to the latter reading are slightly better than those that support the other.3
Michael Kavan comments that Jesus’ point is pretty clear. God is asking us to do his work – the work modeled so well by Jesus. And we have a choice – we can talk a big game, but not follow through or we can eventually heed his message and do what’s right. Thankfully, God is patient and gives us time to not only accept His calling, but to act accordingly. Again, it’s the walk, not the talk, that counts.
How do we not end up in the same grouping? I think the first thing I must do is to truly listen to the Word of God. Reflect on what work God is asking me to do and then, rather than just talking a good game about following His message, to actually do it – walk the walk. Am I perfect at doing this all the time? Certainly not. However, like the first son in the parable, God gives me and you a chance to repent and to say “yes” to working in His fields in a manner consistent with the teachings and actions of Jesus. And remember, as with the tax collectors and prostitutes, God gives us all a second chance. Are we going to take advantage of it and walk the walk, or are we going to be like the chief priests, elders, and second son and just do the talk. Our choice, but pretty significant consequences…4
Don Schwager quotes “The Father and his two sons,” author unknown, from the 5th century A.D.
"Who is this if not the God who created all people and loves them with a fatherly affection, the God who preferred to be loved as a father rather than feared as a lord, even though he was Lord by nature? On this account, at the beginning of the commandments of the law, he did not say, 'You shall fear the Lord with all your heart' but 'you shall love the Lord with all your heart' (Deuteronomy 6:5). To elicit love is not characteristic of a lord but of a father. Of the two sons in this parable, the older one represents the Gentiles, since they come from their father Noah. The younger son represents the Jews, who come from Abraham. 'And approaching the first, he said, "Son, go and work today in my vineyard." 'Today' refers to this present age. How did he speak to his sons? He didn't address them face to face like man, but he spoke to the heart, like God. Man only utters words to the ear, but God supplies understanding to the mind." (excerpt from an incomplete Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew, HOMILY 40)5
The Word Among Us Meditation on Matthew 21:28-32 asks why was it so difficult, then, for the elders and scribes to shift their thinking so that they could believe John’s message—and Jesus’ after him? The truth is, we all struggle with adopting new perspectives. It’s so much easier and more comfortable to stand on the firm ground of our current beliefs than it is to risk the churning seas of uncertainty and change. But unless we are open and teachable, God won’t be able to move us to think more in line with him.
So how can we better listen to God and allow him to transform our thinking? First, we can humbly ask the Lord in prayer to show us where we need to change our perspective. That can lead to repentance, or simply to a different way of viewing another person, a relationship, or a situation. Second, we can keep in mind this promise from the Lord: “My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways” (Isaiah 55:8). The more we understand this truth, the more we will be open to discovering God’s ways of thinking and seeing. That discovery may just convince us that we need a change of heart and mind—and that God will help us make that change! “Jesus, help me let go of any ways of thinking that are not in line with your ways.”6
The web article of Franciscan Media on St. John of the Cross comments that there are many mystics, many poets; John is unique as mystic-poet, expressing in his prison-cross the ecstasy of mystical union with God in the Spiritual Canticle. But as agony leads to ecstasy, so John had his Ascent to Mt. Carmel, as he named it in his prose masterpiece. As man-Christian-Carmelite, he experienced in himself this purifying ascent; as spiritual director, he sensed it in others; as psychologist-theologian, he described and analyzed it in his prose writings. His prose works are outstanding in underscoring the cost of discipleship, the path of union with God: rigorous discipline, abandonment, purification. Uniquely and strongly John underlines the gospel paradox: The cross leads to resurrection, agony to ecstasy, darkness to light, abandonment to possession, denial to self to union with God. If you want to save your life, you must lose it. John is truly “of the Cross.” He died at 49—a life short, but full.
In his life and writings, John of the Cross has a crucial word for us today. We tend to be rich, soft, comfortable. We shrink even from words like self-denial, mortification, purification, asceticism, discipline. We run from the cross. John’s message—like the gospel—is loud and clear: Don’t—if you really want to live!7
Friar Jude Winkler comments on the text from Zephaniah and the transition from punishment for infidelity to consolation to the diaspora being called to Jerusalem. Matthew’s parable alerts us to religious proclamations without action and conversion of the reluctant to do the work of the Lord. Friar Jude reminds us to look at our own lives before we condemn sinners.
Fr. Richard Rohr, OFM, shares why he believes devotion, or heart-centered faith, is essential to the Christian journey.
If our message at the CAC is not heartfelt and creating heartfelt people, I predict it will not last, and it doesn’t deserve to last. It’ll be another head trip that we can argue about. I think it was the gift of the early Franciscans, although I don’t know that we, as the later Franciscan Order, always kept it. Francis and the early friars had a heartfelt quality that made them dear to people. Not everyone always agreed with Francis on things such as not going to war or radical poverty—but authentic, heartfelt, devoted people cannot be dismissed. Perhaps this is what Jesus was talking about when he taught, “Blessed are the pure of heart” (Matthew 5:8). It’s having achieved a purity of intention, desire, and motivation that isn’t about me—how I look and whether people are going to like me or affirm me. I think we all have to purify our intention several times a day: “Why am I doing what I’m doing?” If we don’t localize our intention in the compassionate space that we call the heart, it all becomes about making an impression that will ultimately benefit ourselves. We are all attracted to those loving people who are concerned about others more than themselves and concerned about us specifically. It’s really quite beautiful. We feel softened, we feel held, we feel more tender around people like that.8
We reflect on the change we have experienced through the heart felt action of others to accept us in love.
References
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