Homily of the 26th Sunday, YEAR A, September 27, 2026
“It Is Never Too Late to Say Yes to God”
My dear brothers and sisters in Christ,
There is something very comforting—and at the same time very challenging—about today's Gospel. Jesus tells us about a father who has two sons. He goes to the first and says, “Son, go out and work in the vineyard today.” The son answers, “I will not.” It sounds like a terrible answer.
But then something happens. He changes his mind—and he goes. The father approaches the second son and gives him the same command. This son answers beautifully: “Yes, sir.” It sounds like the perfect response. But he does not go. Then Jesus asks the question that lies at the heart of today's Gospel: “Which of the two did his father's will?” The answer is obvious: The first. And that answer should make us stop and look honestly at ourselves. Because Jesus is not simply asking us, “What do you say?” He is asking: “What do you do?”
God is interested in the direction of our lives. The first reading from Ezekiel gives us the key to understanding the Gospel. God says that if someone who has been living wrongly turns away from sin and begins to do what is right, that person will live. This is a beautiful revelation about the mercy of God.
God does not imprison us forever inside our past. Your past is part of your story—but your past does not have to be the conclusion of your story. You may have made mistakes. You may have disappointed people. You may have disappointed yourself. You may have said “no” to God many times. You may have wandered away from prayer. You may have allowed bitterness, anger, jealousy, pride, addiction, resentment, or selfishness to take root in your heart. But the Gospel tells us something wonderfully hopeful: You can still change.
You can still turn around. You can still come home. You can still say yes. Perhaps somebody listening to me today needs to hear this: God has not finished with you. Your failure is not the end. Your sin is not the end. Your disappointment is not the end. Even your years of being away from God are not the end. As long as there is life, there is the possibility of conversion.
Sometimes our “no” can become a “yes”. The first son said no. But his no was not his final answer. He thought about it. He reconsidered. He changed his mind. And he went. There is something profoundly human about that son. Sometimes we also say no to God. We say: “Not now, Lord.” “I am too busy.” “I am not ready.” “That is too difficult.” “I don't want to forgive.” “I don't want to change.” “I don't want to let go.” “I don't want to go where you are sending me.”
Sometimes our “no” comes from fear. Sometimes from anger. Sometimes from disappointment. Sometimes from pride. Sometimes from wounds we have carried for years. But God does not stop calling simply because we initially say no. The important thing is that we don't allow our first no to become our final no. There is a great spiritual lesson here: A delayed yes is still a yes. A repentant yes is still a yes. A yes after failure is still a yes. A yes after years of wandering is still a yes. The Church is full of people who once said no to God but eventually became great witnesses of God's grace. The saints are not people who never struggled. They are people who allowed God's grace to transform their struggles.
The danger of saying “yes” with our lips but “no” with our lives. The second son presents another danger. He says exactly what his father wants to hear: “Yes, sir.” But he does nothing. His words are correct. His actions are wrong. And this is where the Gospel becomes uncomfortable for religious people—including those of us who come to church every Sunday.
Because it is possible to say: “Lord, Lord…” and still not do the Father's will. We can pray beautiful prayers and still refuse to forgive. We can attend Mass and still treat people badly. We can carry rosaries and still carry hatred in our hearts. We can speak about God and yet ignore the person God has placed in front of us. We can say that we love the Church but refuse to love the people who make up the Church. We can say, “I believe,” but our lives can contradict our profession of faith.
Jesus is reminding us today: Christianity is not merely about saying the right things. It is about becoming the right kind of person. Faith must eventually become visible. Prayer must become charity. Worship must become service. Belief must become obedience. And love must become action.
The vineyard is not somewhere far away. Notice what the father says: “Go out and work in the vineyard today.” The vineyard is where God wants us to serve. For some, the vineyard is the family. For others, it is the workplace. For parents, it is the responsibility of raising children. For young people, it may be school, friendships, and the choices they make. For priests and religious, it is the service of God's people. For every Christian, the vineyard is wherever God has placed us. And notice another important word: “Today.” Not tomorrow. Not someday. Today.
We often postpone conversion. “I will pray more later.” “I will forgive him eventually.” “I will reconcile with my family someday.” “I will go back to confession when I have time.” “I will become serious about my faith when life becomes less busy.” But God says: Today.
Grace comes to us in the present moment. The question is not what you will do someday. The question is: What is God asking you to do today? Whom is God asking you to forgive today? Whom is God asking you to encourage today? What sin is God asking you to abandon today? What good deed is God asking you to do today? What person is God asking you to reach out to today?
The second reading gives us the model: Jesus Christ. St. Paul takes us even deeper. He tells the Philippians: “Have in you the same attitude that is also in Christ Jesus.” Then Paul describes the extraordinary humility of Christ: Jesus, though divine, emptied himself. He became a servant. He humbled himself. He became obedient—even to death on a cross. And because of that obedience, God exalted him. Here we discover the deepest meaning of today's Gospel.
Jesus is the ultimate “Yes” to God. Jesus did not simply say yes to the Father with his lips. He gave his whole life. His “yes” took him from Bethlehem to Nazareth, from Nazareth to Galilee, from Galilee to Jerusalem, and from Jerusalem to Calvary. His “yes” cost him something. Therefore, Christian obedience is not merely saying, “Lord, I am available.” It is saying: “Lord, my life belongs to you.”
The people we least expect may surprise us. Jesus says something shocking to the chief priests and elders: “Tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God before you.” Why would Jesus say something so provocative? Because some people who were considered sinners heard God's call, repented, and changed. Meanwhile, some religious people heard the same call and refused to change. Jesus is not glorifying sin. He is glorifying conversion.
The message is not: “Sin does not matter.” The message is: “Your sin does not have to have the last word.” God is not looking for perfect people. He is looking for people who are willing to be transformed. Sometimes the person we have written off may be the very person God is preparing to transform. Sometimes the person we think is far from God may be much closer to God than we realize. And sometimes the person who needs conversion most is not the person we are pointing at—but the person we see in the mirror.
There is still time to change. Perhaps today's Gospel is God's invitation to someone here who feels that they have gone too far. Maybe you think: “God cannot forgive me.” “I have wasted too many years.” “I have made too many mistakes.” “I am too far away.” But Ezekiel tells us otherwise. The God revealed in today's readings is a God who gives people the possibility of turning around.
The first son said no—and then he went. That means your first answer does not have to be your final answer. Maybe you have said no to God before. Say yes today. Maybe you stopped praying. Start again today. Maybe you stopped going to confession. Come home today. Maybe you have been carrying resentment. Begin the journey of forgiveness today. Maybe your family relationship has been broken for years. Take the first step today. Maybe you have lost hope in yourself. Let God begin something new in you today.
Friends, at the end of Mass today, Jesus is not going to ask us: “How beautifully did you speak?” He will not ask: “How many promises did you make?” He will ask us, in effect: “Did you do the Father's will?” Because ultimately, Christianity is not about the son who said yes.
It is about the son who did yes. And perhaps the most important prayer we can make today is not: “Lord, make me say the right things.” But: “Lord, make my life say yes to you.” When forgiveness is difficult, let my life say yes. When sacrifice is required, let my life say yes. When service becomes inconvenient, let my life say yes. When I am called to humility, let my life say yes. When I am asked to begin again, let my life say yes. When I don't understand what God is doing, let my life still say yes. Because the Christian life is ultimately a journey from “I will not” to “Yes, Lord.” And perhaps that is the good news someone needs today: It is never too late to change your answer. The vineyard is still waiting. The Father is still calling. Grace is still available. And today is still today. So let us ask the Lord for the courage to say:
“Yes, Lord. Send me.
Yes, Lord. Change me.
Yes, Lord. Forgive me.
Yes, Lord. Use me.
Yes, Lord. I will go.”
And may our “yes” not remain merely on our lips. May it become visible in the way we live, the way we forgive, the way we serve, the way we love, and the way we give ourselves to God and to one another. Amen.
Have a splendid Sunday!
