Homily for 26th Sun OT, Year A
Fr. Albert
St. Peter Catholic Church, New Iberia
“Fake it till you make it.” People like to say that to a person who has a tough situation. It’s an interesting phrase, really, because there seems to be a few different meanings to it. Some people mean that you should just pretend to be successful and hope it somehow comes true. Others seem to mean that you should just make your best effort until you gradually improve and get where you need to be.
Well, the second son in this short little parable seems think he can “fake it till he makes it.” Maybe he was hoping that he’d really feel like doing what he was supposed to. But, when he really sees the hard work and the hot day, he gives in. He’d rather stay inside, waste time, take it easy. He fakes it, but never makes it. In other words, he lied.
And that’s what this parable is about: honesty. Honesty with God. Honesty about ourselves. The second son was a people pleaser, a teacher’s pet, a suck-up. His “yes” to the Father was an immediate response. He has a habit of simply saying whatever he thinks people want to hear. There was no reflection, no consideration of the difficulty or the commitment. The second son – the bad son – does not know himself and is not interested in integrity. He wants the credit for being good without the grueling effort and the long process. “Fake it till you make it” turns into “fake it and hope no one notices.”
But the first son – the good son – is a different story. He at least has the honesty to flat our refuse his Father. “No, I won’t go.” He knows he doesn’t want to. Evidently, feels confident enough about his freedom that he has no problem with flatly rejecting his Father’s request. That initial honesty about himself, however, keeps him open and thinking. We don’t see why he changes his mind, but Jesus does mention John the Baptist.
It must have been his conscience. That honesty with himself must have worked its way down deep into his heart and soul. He must have remembered his Father’s love. He must have thought about how much he enjoyed the quality of the wine his Father made with the grapes from that vineyard. He must have admitted to himself that he really didn’t want to disappoint his Father. At some point, his love for his Father must have become stronger than his love for being comfortable and avoiding the hard, uncomfortable work. So, he changed his mind. He repented. His conscience preached like John the Baptist and he repented the same way the tax collectors and prostitutes repented. Rather than “fake it till you make it,” his story was more like “keep it real” when being real means accepting real love and real responsibility.
So, where are you? Where have you been before? If there is one thing this parable does teach us, its that it takes time to really know a person. It takes time to really know yourself. Obviously, the ideal way to live our lives would be to say “yes” to God right away and actually mean it: to have your words and your actions line up with God’s plan every time. But we are a mystery unto ourselves. Jesus is showing us that our pride and vanity make it easy for us to lie to ourselves, to pretend we are better than we are.
God the Father looks at you and asks you to enter the vineyard. He asks you to work hard at tilling the soil by getting rid of your bad habits; To irrigating the crops by prayer; To chase away thieves and pests by avoiding sin; To face long hours and a hot sun harvesting in his vineyard by learning to love the neighbors you like the least. When God asks you, what answer do you give? What answer have you given in the past?
Is it “fake it till you make it?” Is it simply a reflex for you to say what you think God wants to hear? To say what you think I want to hear? Have you genuinely considered the kind of commitment Catholicism is? If you aren’t willing to actually do that kind of work, if you aren’t willing to actually suffer whatever it takes to keep your word to God, then why say yes?
On the other hand, how many of us have done as the first son and simply said no? I worry less about the person who straight up tells me they aren’t interested in the faith than about the person who is faking it. At least when they’re honest, I can talk to the real person. With that kind of honesty, God has room to work. If we’re sincere, our conscience and God’s grace can bring us back. Yet, coming back to God isn’t always so easy.
After rejecting God, after admitting that we are angry at Him or resent Him for something, we are reluctant to come back, even when we kind of want to. We ask ourselves “how can I go back after what I said? How can he forgive me?” He can forgive you. He wants more than anything to forgive you. He will forgive you. Notice that Jesus says nothing about the Father yelling at the son who comes to the field after rejecting him. He and the chief priests all agree, what matters is that he did the Father’s will in the end.
What I’m saying to you is no different. What matters is what you do now. If you’ve said no to God in some part of your life, it’s not the final word. Forget your hesitance and go to Him. If you’ve been faking it until now, stop faking and start making it – making it real. Sure, the cost is high. Yes, it is often hard work. But, the Father is there working with us. The tedious harvest of grapes ends with enjoying the best of wines. Whatever you’ve done, you can be forgiven. Wherever you are, you can start going the right way now. If you are sincere now, nothing can keep you from God. If you are willing to try, to admit your weaknesses and keep coming back to the Father, how can you end up anywhere else but with him in the vineyard? How can that story end in any other way than in eternal love?
