The ‘Yes’ that Transforms Life: Doing God’s Will from the Heart

Fray Luciano Audisio, OAR, reflects on the parable of the two sons, in which Jesus invites us to discover that true obedience does not consist of saying the right words, but of setting out to fulfill the Father’s will. In light of the Gospel and Saint Paul’s Christological hymn, this reflection shows that God does not seek apparent obedience, but a heart willing to be transformed by His love.

Discovering that God’s will leads to true freedom

There is a “yes” that God hears with pleasure and there is another that, though it may sound perfect, can remain completely empty. And there is also a “no” that seems to close a door, but which, with the passage of time, can be transformed into the beginning of true obedience. The parable of the two sons confronts us with a question that runs through our entire lives: what does it mean to do God’s will?

The first reading presents Christ in one of the oldest surviving Christological hymns. In it, we contemplate a movement of descent and ascension: Christ humbles Himself, enters into our human condition, and, through His death and resurrection, opens the way to life for us. It is not merely about knowing who Jesus is, but about discovering the extent of His love and how He wishes to make us participate in His very life.

The Gospel places us in Jerusalem, in the final days of Jesus. After expelling the merchants from the temple, his confrontation with the authorities has intensified. Jesus knows that his death is approaching and, in that context, he shares with his interlocutors a teaching that touches the deepest part of the human heart. He begins by asking: “What do you think?” (Τί δὲ ὑμῖν δοκεῖ;). He does not want to offer us a prefabricated answer, but rather to invite us to look at our own lives.

A man had two sons. One immediately replies that he will go to work in the vineyard, but does not go. The other refuses, though he later repents and ends up fulfilling his father’s will. These two sons are not just characters in a story: they are also two possibilities that coexist within us. Sometimes we say yes with enthusiasm, but our actions take another path. Other times we resist, because we recognize our limitations, but finally find the strength to set out.

The center of the parable is the Father’s will. Many times we imagine it as something that threatens our freedom, as if God wanted to impose something contrary to our desires, our joy, or our personal fulfillment. However, God’s will is not an enemy of who we truly are. As Saint Augustine expresses, God is more intimate to us than we are to ourselves. His will leads us towards that deep desire that remains hidden in our hearts, often buried under our false images of God, our wounds, our forgetfulness, and our sins.

Therefore, encountering the Lord also means learning to recognize ourselves. It is removing the layers that prevent us from hearing what we truly desire. Faith does not simply consist of repeating correct words, but of discovering that our life is called to a deeper communion with God. And Jesus offers us a concrete image of this vocation: working in the Father’s vineyard.

The father sends his sons to work, but remains at home. The son is far away, does not see his father, and yet can do what the father desires. We often experience this too. We do not see God, we cannot dispose of His presence as if it were something we control. But precisely there, in the place where we are called to live and serve, we can enter into deep communion with Him. Physical distance does not prevent the closeness of love.

True obedience is born from a converted heart

The first son reminds us that we can say “yes” and, at the same time, put other things in God’s place. We do not necessarily lie when we promise; perhaps we sincerely wish to respond. But our interests, our comforts, our small idolatries appear, and we end up choosing what is most convenient for us. The problem is not only having failed to comply with an order, but having lost sight of the beauty of collaborating with the Father.

The second son, on the other hand, begins by saying no. Perhaps he knows his limits, knows he is not capable, and prefers not to commit. But something happens within him: μεταμεληθείς, repentant, he changes his attitude and sets out.

For this reason, the final words of Jesus are so provocative: “The tax collectors and the prostitutes go before you into the Kingdom of God” (οἱ τελῶναι καὶ αἱ πόρναι προάγουσιν ὑμᾶς εἰς τὴν βασιλείαν τοῦ θεοῦ). Jesus is not justifying sin, but showing that those who recognize their need for conversion can open themselves to grace before those who consider themselves righteous and do not feel the need to change.

We too can recognize that, at times, we put a price on our relationships, that we seek advantages, and that we sacrifice what is most dear for convenience. But recognizing it does not mean being trapped in guilt. It means letting God find us in our truth.

Setting out is responding daily to God’s love

Jesus’ question continues to resonate: which of the two sons did the Father’s will? It is not enough to say “Lord.” It is necessary to set out. And that path begins when we stop relying solely on our own words and open ourselves to God’s gratuitous love. It is not we who save ourselves: it is He who loves us and invites us, again and again, to work in His vineyard.