Two sons: «No» and «Me!»

(Mt 21:28-32)

Matthew writes half a century after the death of the Master and notes that the majority of Abraham's children - his people - did not recognise Jesus as the Messiah.

In his communities in Galilee and Syria, pagans quickly became the majority - elevated to the rank of children.

They did not undergo gruelling trials, but spontaneously recognised the Lord.

It is an invitation to the veterans of the church who are still Judaizing to review their religiosity (much of it superficial), which believes it has understood everything but fails to grasp the essence of God's plan for humanity - and does not set out to do the "work".

[Reassuring cults, traditional legalism or hysterical dreams only save appearances].

Matthew wants churchgoers not to have any presumption of feeling that they are in the right, almost by birthright.

Like Peter (Matthew 16:16-28), senior leaders were sometimes willing to commit themselves to a Messiah they only had in their heads - not to bear witness to the Lamb committed to transmitting life to the new; to rejoice in it, promote it, and give it.

[Of course, today we are not qualified to identify with the 'third son', the one who... 'says "yes, sir" and works'].

It is the supposed dregs of society, those excluded from the kingdom of God (vv. 31b-32) who 'take the place' of the leaders - those who have sophisticated ideas or the same 'correct' tradition.

Compared to the top of the class, the newcomers were no more deserving than the experts and the habitual, but being without a respectable screen, they gradually became willing to love.

Those whom the ancient leaders considered responsible for the delay of the Kingdom were not yet deaf to the Word.

After all, even Judas repented.

Leaders who feel they are fulfilling their duties or are great reformers and phenomena will never convert.

That is why the Master was more at ease with those who were different than with sterile religious people or disembodied idealists.

In short: we must allow ourselves to be evaluated.

We need to question ourselves, stop and ask ourselves, 'What do you think?' (v. 21).

After the expulsion of the merchants, the authorities are furious because Jesus has declared that the Temple of Jerusalem is a den of thieves.

How naive! One does not touch the one god of the ancient holy places, the real one: the bag of the guides and the treasure of the priests involved.

Those most responsible for the black market in the sacred enclosure do not want to lose face.

They appear to be believers and loyal, but only when viewed from the outside.

Their inner eye and their well-hidden activity behind the scenes focus on anything but spiritual goods.

Their one god is called convenience. So it is to them that the Master addresses the parable.

And the beginning is already provocative... In the rabbis' stories, there was only one 'son': Israel!

For Christ, however, even a wayward son remains a son [what do we think of this, for example... starting with catechism and ending with spiritual exercises?].

The Master of the Vineyard, an image of the chosen people, addresses [in the new CEI translation, initially] his 'prototype' of man with tenderness and maternal affection: 'My little son'.

He tries to make him understand: 'The unfamiliar land is full of dissent and resentment, but the Vineyard is yours; so commit yourself to building a world of joy'.

But it is normal to be stubborn: 'I don't feel like it' - because we are often attracted not by the Beatitudes, but by the worldly criteria of having, power and appearance; of keeping for ourselves, climbing over others and dominating them.

Working for the benefit of others, recognising their dignity and promoting it, does not come naturally and spontaneously to everyone.

On the contrary, it seems burdensome - at least until we are able to understand the value of our brothers and sisters for ourselves (and see 'ourselves' in 'their' faces).

It is only a journey of life in the Spirit that makes us ready to recognise that the You urges, expands, enriches and completes the I.

To truly encounter others means to have encountered ourselves, in the multifaceted nature of our own sides.

It is not easy. In fact, it is easier to identify with or be supportive from a distance than to be fraternal.

It is difficult to eliminate selfishness, which is a creaturely fact that must be integrated to enrich everyone, rather than falsely exorcised.

In short: 'otherness' is not just an appeal, but a boundless source of wealth for myself; it speaks of my very being, in that very way.

But to understand love - including love for oneself - we all need time, experience, insight, growth in empathy and further exploration.

Then working on it is also demanding, starting from the innermost self.

It is obvious that we may instinctively pull back - at least until we begin to learn the deep connection with the distant that demands life [just as we always do, in the first person].

The perception of what appears 'foreign' becomes a rare intuition of one's own essence, an expansion of the Ego - a movement and a growing process that leads to understanding the You in the I.

The eccentricity of one's brother is the paradoxical starting point for finding oneself and one's path.

Building a new world can be repellent to nature (in some respects) marked by sin and withdrawal.

We need to understand banal instinctive reactions, because preventive condemnation blocks growth.

Only step by step do we become aware that authentic and full life brings out the divine Gold.

It accentuates the exquisitely human calibre that even the heavenly Father suggests - overcoming indifference to the yearning that at first glance seems not to concern us.

Of course, at first repulsion may surface; there is no need to be scandalised or to point fingers.

Recovering the profound human dimension is no easy task.

Then it is the difference that gives us the cue, not the 'rule' - nor the 'reprimand'. The latter do not activate anything authentic.

After all, we know from experience that the most convincing 'Yes' comes through an initial 'No'.

The inner struggle is to be expected - ultimately, it will have an impact far beyond a formal adherence.

There is no need to be indignant if someone responds with a flat refusal.

Then they will change their mind [v. 29 of the new CEI translation]: 'metamellomai'. And they will recover their radical character as a son and brother.

In order to grasp one's position and respond wisely to the Lord's proposals, one must sift through things.

This calls for discernment of one's roots, relationships, and oneself (in all one's diversities).

In short, the truest 'yes' comes from a request for explanation - which brings us into direct contact with the Source of our varied character - a condition that completes us.

Life is not about copying and tracing. We must beware of 'yes-men': they are acting out a fiction as a smokescreen.

Although those identified are 'ready and willing' to immediately show their best intentions, they become all show and no substance; ultimately, just empty words.

He therefore turned to the second [v.30 in the new CEI translation], who was in fact the firstborn of the promises: 'I, Lord!'.

As if to say: 'I am here; why think of others?'.

The exaggeratedly similar and positive reaction - in reality indifferent because it is habitual and perhaps calculated - indicates that the 'veteran of belief and adherence' has, at the very least, not understood...

He certainly did not agree with the Father's programme - so profound and demanding. He had his own ideas about how to behave in the Vineyard. 

Therefore, he deludes himself into thinking that he is at an advantage, rather than saved.

Faith and protocols

"Manifest sinners and various contaminants are passing you by"

(Mt 21:28-32; in particular v.31)

What is specific to Faith, which makes a difference, is not trusting the religious ideology of the best.

A belief is authentic if it can withstand being examined first-hand; the rest is artifice, mistrust with a trick.

Personal conviction passes through a spontaneous request for explanations [typical in this regard is the story of the two sons, who both say yes and no]. 

The discriminating factor of life in the Spirit? The exception that becomes promotion.

Compared to various ancient beliefs, an intrinsic aspect of Jesus' invitation is the adult mind.

It excludes adherent solutions (common or elitist): they enclose souls in a condition of dependence, with illusory progress.

Women and men respond 'Here I am' to the call because they are intimately persuaded, not because of external influences such as labels, rituals, protocols, officialdom, respect for canonical guidelines, other people's habits, and hearsay.

When the disciples ask him to increase their faith, Jesus does not even respond (Lk 17:6).

He does not say to improve this or that. It is impossible to chisel out love in measured stages.

Faith is not a gift to be sheltered away, which the Father gives only to some, but a relationship of creative trust that is kindled in response to the gratuitous, renewed, reinvigorated, repeatedly rejuvenated initiative of the Source of being - when, step by step, it is welcomed instead of rejected.

Not only is it a personal and varied proposal in itself, but it also wants to be reinterpreted and made lush with our own originality.

The only vigour to be introduced into events is a different face, not at all defensive, nor aimed at increasing the situation.

Because we are called to become what we are.

The soul guides us to encounter ourselves, frankly and not by following a complex set of external procedures - but, wave by wave.

So there are those who already have a lot of faith, others who have so-so faith, some who have just the right amount, or who lack faith altogether - perhaps waiting to find the Gift somewhere to put it in the safe and multiply their nest egg - always keeping it in the same hole in the wall.

The conformist, rigid and ambiguous idea of spiritual progress must therefore be eradicated.

It is not contained within the limits of the 'breach work' of a bricklayer who slavishly follows a plan. And he sweats and sweats to insert into some makeshift niche the identical treasure chest of everyone - received as a complete package.

Then, there are no favourites, nor outposts to defend it.

There are no rejects placed on the sidelines, nor 'average' troops according to guarding ability and performance.

In the authentic itinerary, there is no unilateral trajectory or way out [as if it were a single passage, already preformed in every detail].

Nor is there any slavish enrichment, as a model - considered possible for heroes apart, on a conventional ascetic basis.

These are not the true friends of vital energy.

Morality - on the contrary: never trust those who rush to say, 'Yes, sir!'.