NOTES for Mat 21:28-32

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," everyone knows this folk wisdom. Why is that so? The parable of the two sons leads us to reflect on this. We readily agree in words to do good, because then we enjoy the thought of our own righteousness. But we all lack constancy, patience, and diligence. And we become like seeds that fell on rocky ground. "The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak," the Lord says at another time. But let us also think about the amazing gift of repentance that has been given to us. The possibility of a clean slate is always left to us. It is never too late to reject evil.

However, the idea of the unfulfilled good intentions of the son who said, "I will go," is only one possible interpretation. Another meaning can be ostentatious piety, which lets a person skim along the surface of life without entering into the depth of its problems.

Perhaps the great difficulty of our life with you is that we know too well what we ought to be. And most paradoxically, this comes from such a wonderful thing as knowledge and love of the Law.

We try on the costume of virtue and like ourselves very much in it. That is why it is so hard for us to admit our weakness, our unworthiness, our sinfulness before people. It is even hard for us to refuse a person who asks us for something, when we cannot fulfill the request, because we do not want to put ourselves in the position of someone who did not help another person in need. That role is unpleasant to us.

The parable we are talking about today has many meanings. But here is one of them: always be completely honest before yourself and before the one who asks you for something or comes to you with something. Sometimes one hears that this parable teaches that deeds are more important than words. No way. In fact, the second son sinned twice: first, by not telling his father the truth about his inner unwillingness to go work, and second, by not going to work. Therefore, on the contrary, this parable is about how important words are, the first sin, and about how important deeds are, the second sin.

Did the first son sin? I would say he did not. Yes, he grieved his father. But he was honest in speaking of his unwillingness; he was honest in describing his inner state, though he could not help understanding that it was unseemly. Let us strive for the same honesty. Of course, one should try to hide one's bad thoughts from people so as not to tempt them; the point is something else: not to promise more than we can actually do. This is difficult, because the request always exceeds our abilities and we always want to be kind to everyone. But let us understand that this is impossible and stop admiring ourselves, because we make those suffer who do not understand why we were so kind and then nothing came of it.

In this conflict between Christ and the Pharisees, the difference between their understandings of faith is revealed most clearly. The Pharisees demand clear arguments from Jesus: He must show visibly “by what authority” He can take charge in the Temple. This demand amounts to yet another request for proof from God, for a miracle. Instead, Christ confronts them with a fundamental question about faith, using the example of John, who called the people to repentance. At the time, there were people who needed no miraculous proof of John's prophetic mission: they understood in their hearts that his words were right. They were those “tax collectors and prostitutes” (and many others) who were ready to return to God, be reconciled with Him, and begin a life unlike the one they had lived before. But if that readiness is absent, then all that remains is to play at proofs and argue about authority...

The Lord continues His path to Golgotha, which is already felt in His clashes with the chief priests and elders, in His parables and conversations with the disciples. He entered the city as King. He must either be received by the people as the long-awaited Messiah or perish in a clash with the hypocrisy and rigidity of the leaders and the unfaithfulness of the people, in a struggle with the kingdom of darkness. Where Christ comes, no room for compromise remains. The fig tree that bore no fruit withers; Israel, which did not hear the preaching of John, cannot receive the Savior. More and more clearly it becomes visible that the conflict can end in only one way: the death of the Rebel.

We, together with the Israelites of the beginning of the first century, stand at the very center of these events. Christ enters us, or will yet enter us, in exactly the same way He entered Jerusalem. And He will encounter, or has already encountered, hypocrisy and rigidity in our hearts in exactly the same way. Like them, we are always on the edge of a choice: to kill the Messiah and wither like the fig tree, or to receive Him, hear His word, become as He wants to see us, and so obtain His mercy and the Kingdom.

Today's reading consists of two parts that at first glance are not directly connected with each other. The first part is the account of the withered fig tree (vv. 18-22); the second gives the conversation of Jesus with the chief priests and elders in the Temple (vv. 23-32). And yet there is a connection between these two events, although it is not immediately obvious.

It is no accident that the account of the withered fig tree ends with a conversation about faith that, according to Jesus, can move mountains (vv. 21-22). Clearly, faith here is not only trust in God and in the One whom God sends into the world, but also a definite spiritual state. And the second part of the passage is devoted precisely to what prevents a person from acquiring and keeping that state.

The conversation with the chief priests and elders begins with the question, already discussed more than once, of who gave Jesus the authority to do what He does (v. 23). Jesus, as had happened before, answers a question with a question: was the washing ("baptism") with which John washed people true or false (v. 25)? Then Jesus' interlocutors begin thinking about how to answer Him (vv. 25-27). But they are clearly concerned not with the truth of John's ministry, but only with the possibility of getting out of a delicate situation without losing face. And in the end, as often happens in such cases, they avoid answering (v. 27).

Then Jesus also refuses to answer their question. There is no game here: in fact, with such an attitude toward the matter, trying to explain anything to these people is truly pointless. They are not interested in truth; their own opinion is more important to them - whatever they may say about spiritual life, purity of faith, and other things of that sort.

The parable Jesus tells about the two sons (vv. 28-32) characterizes the situation as well as possible: one can talk about faith and spiritual life as much as one likes, but if there is no sincere obedience to God's will, all of it is only words. And what prevents obedience is a lack of resolve and inner wholeness.

After all, Jesus' interlocutors cannot be called complete unbelievers. But this is not unconditional faith; it is faith with reservations and allowances. Such faith is worth little. It certainly cannot move mountains. The only thing such faith is good for is serving as self-consolation for those who would like to consider themselves believers without sacrificing anything. But such faith has nothing to do with the Kingdom.