TWENTY-SIXTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME, YEAR A

Ezekiel 18:25-28/Ps. 24:4-9/Phil. 2:1-11/Matthew 21:28-32

Today’s readings confront us with a demanding truth: God is not satisfied with appearances; He looks for conversion expressed in concrete obedience.

In the first reading, Ezekiel challenges a deeply rooted mentality among the people of Israel. They were tempted to believe that their past, their family history, or even their previous righteousness could secure them before God. Ezekiel insists that each person stands personally responsible before the Lord. The righteous person cannot presume upon yesterday’s goodness, and the sinner is not imprisoned forever by yesterday’s failure. What matters is the direction of the heart now.

This is profoundly hopeful. Scripture does not present the human person as permanently defined by the worst chapter of his or her life. A sinner can turn back. A righteous person can fall away. Conversion therefore remains an urgent, daily task.

The second reading from Philippians takes us even deeper into the mystery of obedience. St. Paul places before us the mind of Christ: “He emptied himself… becoming obedient unto death, even death on a cross.” Christ’s obedience is not passive submission; it is self-giving love. The Son says “yes” to the Father not merely with words but with His entire life.

Where Adam grasped, Christ emptied Himself. Where humanity often insists on self-interest, Christ chooses self-surrender. Christian discipleship therefore means allowing this same mind of Christ to reshape our attitudes, ambitions, relationships and decisions.

The Gospel brings all this together in the parable of the two sons. One son says, “I will go,” but does not go. The other says, “I will not,” but later changes his mind and obeys.

Jesus is speaking directly to religious people who knew how to say the correct things about God but resisted what God was actually doing before their eyes. Tax collectors and prostitutes, people publicly considered sinners, had responded to John the Baptist’s call to repentance. The religious leaders, however, refused to reconsider themselves.

The disturbing question of the Gospel is therefore not simply, “What do I say about God?” but rather, “What am I actually doing with what God is asking of me?”

It is possible to say “Lord, Lord” and still resist the Lord.

We can say “yes” during Mass but say “no” through resentment at home. We can profess faith while refusing forgiveness. We can receive Holy Communion while remaining indifferent to the poor. We can promise God many things in moments of devotion and yet quietly postpone obedience when sacrifice is required.

The first son gives us hope because his “no” was not his final word. He changed his mind. That is one of the great consolations of the Gospel: our past response does not have to become our permanent response.

Nicodemus moved from hesitation to discipleship. Nathanael moved from scepticism to confession of faith. Augustine moved from resistance to surrender. Peter moved from denial to love and martyrdom.

The Lord is patient with the human heart.

He does not abandon us simply because our first answer was “no.” He continues to call, to disturb the conscience, to place people and situations before us through which grace invites us again.

But there is also a warning here. God’s patience must not become an excuse for endless postponement. A “no” continually repeated can slowly harden into a way of life. That is why Scripture repeatedly speaks about today. “Today, if you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.”

Not yesterday.

Not someday.

Today.

Perhaps some of us are carrying regrets over decisions we have made, opportunities we have missed, relationships we have damaged, sins we have repeated, or calls from God we have ignored. The Gospel says that failure does not need to have the final word.

The essential question is: What will my answer be today?

Perhaps the Lord is asking me to forgive someone. Perhaps He is asking me to reconcile with someone. Perhaps He is asking me to abandon a hidden sin. Perhaps He is asking me to become more generous, more truthful, more humble or more faithful. Perhaps He is asking me simply to stop postponing what I already know is right.

The Christian life is therefore not merely about saying the Creed with our lips. It is about allowing the Creed to become visible in our lives. The most convincing “yes” to God is not spoken. It is lived.

And the beautiful message of today’s Gospel is this: even if yesterday we said “no,” today grace still gives us another opportunity to say “yes.”

May the Lord give us the humility to change our minds, the courage to change our ways, and the grace to put on the mind of Christ, so that our faith may not remain only on our lips but become visible in the way we live, love and serve.