Change of Mind (26th Sunday Ordinary A)

As held by an unwritten law, women have the privilege to change their mind. An old adage has it: "A woman's mind and winter wind change oft." Billy Joel’s “She’s always a Woman to Me” has this witty refrain many of us love to croon: “Oh and she never gives out and she never gives in, she just changes her mind.”  Apparently Billy gets away with this stereotyping as women themselves love the song too; they find it cute and even flattering!  Perhaps they find it actually expedient to be fickle-minded.

It’s not only women who change their minds though.  All of us do. I saw on a sticker: "The only person who can't change his mind is the one who hasn't got one." On the surface, today’s parable of the two sons is about changing minds.  One says “No” to their father’s injunction to work in the vineyard, only to change his mind later and goes to work. The other says “Yes” but changes his mind too and never reports to work.  So, the one who initially signifies refusal ends up actually following his father’s command and the other who starts off with a confident confirmation falls out of his father’s grace.

When seen in the context of the other readings for today, the parable is not simply a lesson on fickle-mindedness.  The "change of mind" in the parable is really not about the whimsical and capricious inconstancy of a woman's mind and winter wind.  The change rather refers to the profound movement of conversion:  The movement of turning away and turning towards.  Specifically, turning away from sin and turning towards God.  The first son is a sinner who later converted and turned towards God.  The second is a virtuous man but is fettered by his self-righteousness hence gradually moves away from God.  In the parable, the first son represents the tax collectors and prostitutes who mended their ways; the second represents the religious leaders of Judaism who were imprisoned by their own brand of holiness.

There’s irony here. The poignant paradox of moral life is already hinted at by the first reading: “When a virtuous man turns away from virtue to commit iniquity, and dies, it is because of the iniquity he committed that he must die. But if a wicked man, turning from the wickedness he has committed, does what is right and just, he shall preserve his life” (Ez. 18:26-27).  

In short, the sin of the virtuous man is his own undoing; the humility of the sinner is his salvation.  Let me treat this a little deeper for our reflection.

The sin of the virtuous person.  This is the yes-turned-no of the religious leaders of Judaism in Jesus’ time.  This is our own stance of self-righteousness today. The greatest temptation of a virtuous person is to be intoxicated with his sense of holiness as one can be intoxicated with power.  The person begins to be proud of himself, even without knowing it. And while he may honestly believe in his humility, he ceases to feel the need for conversion.  He’ll never be seen on his bended knees to beg for mercy. He does not need it.  He’s perfectly fine. He’s a virtuous man after all. And he loves the feeling. No one should dare take it from him.

The “pride of holiness” seems to be an oxymoron but, no, pride can perfectly thrive in a false sense of holiness.  This is the irony: He who prides of his holiness ends up falling out of God’s grace. Very sad and tragic scenario!

The humility of the sinner.  Many times we say “No” not because we don’t care but because we feel unworthy of something.  The feeling of unworthiness leaves a disturbing empty space in us that longs for wholeness.  That is why Jesus was powerfully appealing to the sinners of his time.  He spent time with them. He announced the Good News of God’s love and mercy to them.  He was the living spring from where they longed to drink in order to quench their parched and thirsty souls.

The humble stance of helplessness allows a repentant sinner to change his “No” to a “Yes.”  The change of mind here is not the stereotyped capricious fickle-mindedness of a woman.  It’s rather the profound movement of conversion which transpires in a person who is humble enough to admit his need for mercy and who begs for it.  Again, the irony: the unworthy sinner ends up rejoicing in the abundance of God’s healing grace. The happy ending scenario we all wish for!

To sum up: Jesus, in the second reading, is the epitome of humility. He was in the form of God but did not regard equality with God. He emptied himself taking the form of a slave, of human likeness. He humbled himself accepting even death on a cross! But because of this humility, God exalted him, gave him the name above every name so that every tongue shall confess that Jesus Christ is Lord! (Phil 2:5-11).

We all need a change of mind—not in the sense of fickle-mindedness but in the profound sense of conversion. Jesus’ parable and own example all point out to the power of humility to set us off to the right direction of change—from a sinful life to a life of grace.

God despises the proud and self-righteous; He lifts up the humble of heart.