The Obedience That Counts: Reflections on the Parable of the Two Sons

"What do you think? A man had two sons..." (Matthew 21:28)

Jesus had a gift for exposing the human heart with breathtaking economy. In just five verses, the parable of the two sons cuts through our religious pretense and forces us to confront an uncomfortable question: Does our obedience to God match our words about God?

The Story That Won't Let Us Off Easy

The parable is deceptively simple. A father asks his two sons to work in the vineyard. The first son refuses outright with "I will not" but later regrets his response and goes to work. The second son gives the answer every parent wants to hear: "I will, sir" but never shows up in the vineyard. Jesus then poses His devastating question to the religious leaders: "Which of the two did the will of his father?"

The answer is obvious. Yet when Jesus applies this parable directly to the Pharisees and chief priests, revealing that tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of them, we feel the sting of His words across two millennia.

The Son Who Said No

I think of Marcus, a man I met during my early years in pastoral ministry. He grew up in a rigid religious home where church attendance was mandatory and questions were unwelcome. By his late teens, he wanted nothing to do with Christianity. He said his decisive "no" to God and walked away into addiction, broken relationships, and what he later described as "a decade of running."

But something happened in his early thirties. After his second stint in rehab, sitting in a circle with other recovering addicts, Marcus encountered the grace of God in a way he'd never experienced in all those years of forced church attendance. The Jesus he met there wasn't the cosmic taskmaster of his childhood, but a friend of sinners who ate with tax collectors and prostitutes.

Marcus's transformation wasn't instantaneous or cinematic. It was slow, painful work, the kind that happens in vineyards under the hot sun. But he showed up. Day after day, he showed up. He worked through his resentments in therapy. He made amends where he could. He began serving at the recovery center where he'd found healing.

When I last saw Marcus, he was leading a weekly Bible study for men coming out of addiction. "I spent fifteen years saying no to God," he told me, "but I think He was more patient with my honesty than He would have been if I'd kept lying about being fine."

The first son represents those who initially refuse God's invitation but eventually repent and obey. Their initial "no" is honest, even if it's wrong. And perhaps that raw honesty creates space for genuine transformation.

The Son Who Said Yes

The second son is harder for us to face because he lives in many of our mirrors.

I remember Sarah, a faithful member of my congregation for years. She served on committees, volunteered in children's ministry, and rarely missed a Sunday. She knew the right answers to every spiritual question. Her social media presence was a highlight reel of Bible verses and inspirational quotes about faith.

But in a spiritual direction session, after months of meeting together, Sarah finally admitted what she'd been hiding: "I don't think I actually believe any of this anymore. I haven't for years. But everyone expects me to be the 'strong Christian woman,' and I don't know who I'd be without that identity."

Sarah had been saying "yes, sir" to God every Sunday while never actually showing up in the vineyard of authentic faith. Her religious performance had become a substitute for genuine relationship with God. The tragedy wasn't that she had doubts because doubt is part of every honest faith journey. The tragedy was that she felt she had to pretend otherwise, that her Christian community seemed to value the appearance of faith more than the messy reality of it.

The Vineyard Where Truth Lives

The vineyard in Jesus's parable represents the actual work of the kingdom. It's not the talk about it, not the performance of it, but the real, often unglamorous labor of obedience.

I've watched this play out countless times in ministry. The person who shows up consistently to serve at the homeless shelter but never mentions it on social media. The couple who quietly fosters children with complex trauma histories. The businessman who restructures his company's practices because he's wrestling with what justice actually requires, even when it costs him profits.

These are the ones working in the vineyard, often without fanfare or recognition.

Meanwhile, our churches are sometimes filled with people who've mastered the language of faith but resist its actual demands. We say we trust God but refuse to forgive. We claim to follow Jesus but ignore the immigrant, the prisoner, the enemy. We speak of surrender while maintaining iron control over our lives. We're the second son, polite and proper, who never makes it to the vineyard.

When Tax Collectors and Prostitutes Lead the Way

Jesus's words to the religious leaders must have landed like a slap: "Truly, I say to you, the tax collectors and prostitutes go into the kingdom of God before you" (Matthew 21:31).

Why? Because, as Jesus explains, when John the Baptist came preaching repentance, the religious establishment didn't believe him, but the tax collectors and prostitutes did. The "sinners" knew they needed transformation. They said yes with their lives, not just their lips.

I think of the transformation I've witnessed in Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, where broken people practice rigorous honesty, make amends, and depend daily on a Higher Power. I've seen more genuine spirituality in those church basements than in some polished Sunday services. Why? Because pretense doesn't survive long in recovery. You either show up and do the work, or you relapse.

The kingdom of God has always been filled with unexpected people. Those who appeared to be far from God but proved willing to actually respond to His invitation with their lives.

The Question Jesus Asks Us

"Which of the two did the will of his father?"

This question should haunt every person who claims to follow Jesus. It certainly haunts me. How many times have I given God the religious answer He supposedly wants to hear while quietly maintaining my own agenda? How often have I said "yes" in prayer but "no" in practice?

The parable won't let us rest in our religious credentials or moral performances. It demands that we examine the gap between our stated commitments and our actual choices. Between our Sunday mornings and our Monday through Saturday lives. Between what we say we believe and what our bank statements, calendars, and relationships actually reveal about our priorities.

An Invitation to Honest Obedience

The grace in this parable is that God cares more about our eventual obedience than our initial response. The son who said no but later worked in the vineyard found his way to the place that mattered. Real repentance, the kind that leads to changed behavior, is always welcome, no matter how long we've been saying no.

But we must also hear the warning: Religious words without authentic obedience are worse than useless. They're dangerous because they give us the illusion of relationship with God while we remain distant from His actual purposes.

Are you ready to close the gap between what you profess and how you live?

At Fermata Ministries, we provide spiritual direction for those who are tired of religious performance and hungry for genuine transformation. Whether you're the son who's been saying no and want to find your way to the vineyard, or the son who's been saying yes but never showing up and need help understanding why, we're here to walk with you.

Spiritual direction offers a confidential, grace filled space to explore your honest relationship with God, examine the patterns that keep you from true obedience, and discover what it means to show up in the vineyard of God's kingdom with authenticity and purpose.

Visit FermataMinistries.com to schedule your first spiritual direction session.