Not too long ago, we heard Jesus say in the Sermon on the Mount, ‘Let your yes be yes, and your no be no’ (Mt 5:37); that is, don’t swear to things, but be honest. When you agree to something, keep your word, and when you don’t agree, be clear, so you don’t cause confusion to others. But in today’s gospel, Jesus uses yes and no to lead us to a deeper truth.
He asks who really does the Father’s will when push comes to shove: the one who said no but did what was asked, or the one who said yes but didn’t do what was promised? Although the chief priests answer, the first, they don’t acknowledge that they belong in the second group, even when Jesus warns them in no uncertain terms that the no group—the tax collectors and prostitutes—will enter heaven before they do (Mt 21:31).
It’s not just the Pharisees who say yes but do not keep their word to live out the Father’s will; it’s all of us, children of God. We give lip service to the commandments and the beatitudes but not our hearts, so we fail to follow them. It’s easy to give a partial response—a more-or-less yes—which eases our consciences.
We then put off fulfilling that yes, promising to get to it later when we have more time or when things are more settled, more stable. In the secret places of our hearts, though, we mean no.
As we treat God, so we often treat those around us. When my children have asked for things, I have said yes, even though I didn’t really want or intend to give them those things. Out of cowardice or to avoid tantrums, tears, or nagging, I found it easier to say a yes I didn’t mean. Sometimes they would forget about the treat, gift, game, or whatever they had hoped for. Many times, however, they remembered and found it harder to trust my word but easier to follow my example, never following through on their own yes. When I should have been honest and explained appropriately why it was a no, I took the easy way out. The easy way, which Jesus warns is the broad way to hell, can so quickly become a pattern and break down the love and trust that must exist at the heart of the home.
How blessed we are that God always follows through on his yes to us, in his own time, of course, but he never fails! Jesus’ explanation to the chief priests gives me such great hope because the soul who originally said no, but then changed her mind, discovers that God has not stopped saying yes to her in spite of her actions. He patiently waits for us to turn back to him for as long as it takes, like a mother waiting for her child to come to her, hug her, and say, “I’m sorry for what I did.” The embrace is all the sweeter and more beautiful for the time apart.
This story is ours as God’s children. Like our own little ones, we often say no to that which is spiritually good for us and end up in a mess of our own making—unfocused, sad, restless, despairing. Our path back to what we really desire—God—is the deeper movement of the heart; it is the path that the Prodigal Son, great saints like Augustine, and all who would be truly happy must travel.
The pathway to a yes we truly mean, and one we model for our children, comprises two elements. First, in confession we empty ourselves of all our no’s, so that we may turn from iniquity to the Lord, our true life. Repeat as needed. Second, we learn step-by-step by imitating Jesus, not just to do the Father’s will but also to love it fully and completely. There’s no better way to teach our children and guide them to their true home. Echoing today’s responsorial psalm, we ask God not to remember our sins but to teach us his ways and guide us to his everlasting love, his mercy, and his yes to us.
