Sunday, September 27, 2026Issue No. 01

Momilies

Faith for the holy and beautifully ordinary work of motherhood.

A joyful ink-and-watercolor illustration of the Blessed Virgin Mary praying with a rosary among bright hand-drawn wildflowers
New mercy. New life. A new beginning.
The Sunday letter for moms
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September 27, 2026 · 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Your first answer does not have to be your final answer.

Today’s Gospel is not meant to discourage us. It is filled with hope: God’s mercy gives us the freedom to change our answer and begin again.

This week’s Momily

Go into the vineyard now.

There is a scene in today’s Gospel that probably sounds familiar to every parent. A father says to one son, “Go work in the vineyard.” The son basically says, “No.” But later he thinks about it, changes his mind, and goes.

The father asks the other son to do the same thing. That son gives the answer every parent would love to hear: “Yes, sir.” And then he doesn’t go.

Parents know this experience. “Will you please unload the dishwasher?” “Yep.” Twenty minutes later, the dishwasher is still full. “Did you finish your homework?” “I’m going to.”

Jesus asks a simple question: Which child actually did the father’s will? Not which one sounded better. Which one actually did it?

Yes, Lord, I want to pray more.

Yes, Lord, I want to be patient with my family.

Yes, Lord, I know I need to forgive that person.

Yes, Lord, I want our family to make faith a priority.

And then life happens. There are lunches to pack, practices to get to, emails to answer, laundry sitting in baskets, work problems, bills, doctor appointments, and a hundred other things demanding our attention.

Before we know it, our “yes” to God has become something we intended to do but never actually did.

Your past choices are real, and they matter. But they do not have to determine the rest of your story.
Continue reading this week’s Momily

Look at the first son. He got it wrong at first. He said no. But his first answer did not have to be his final answer. He changed his mind.

Maybe you haven’t prayed seriously in a long time. You can begin again. Maybe your marriage has gotten into a pattern of irritation and keeping score. You can begin again. Maybe you haven’t been to Confession in years. You can begin again.

Not because what happened before doesn’t matter, but because God’s mercy is greater than our failures.

That is why today’s Psalm says, “Remember your mercies, O Lord.” The psalmist does not only ask God to forgive him. He also asks, “Teach me your paths.” Lord, don’t just forgive where I’ve been. Show me where to go next.

St. Paul tells us what that path looks like: humility, obedience, compassion, and a willingness to love without always putting ourselves first.

Sometimes humility means being the first person in the house to say, “I’m sorry.” Sometimes it means listening to your spouse instead of preparing your defense. Sometimes it means putting down the phone when your child wants to tell you a story. Sometimes it means deciding that being loving is more important than proving that you were right.

We can go to Mass every Sunday, teach our children their prayers, serve in the parish, and know what Catholics are supposed to believe. All of those things are good. But we can still become the second son: “Yes, Lord,” and then refuse the particular thing God is asking of us.

If someone who has been far from God begins moving toward Him, rejoice. If someone changes their life, rejoice. If someone walks into Confession after twenty years, rejoice. Because that is what God’s mercy is for.

What is the vineyard God is asking you to enter right now? Maybe it is your marriage. Maybe it is a child who needs more attention. Maybe it is a relationship that needs forgiveness. Maybe it is prayer or Confession.

Every Sunday we celebrate the Resurrection, the beginning of new life. We bring it all to Christ: the good intentions, the failures, the sins, the exhaustion, the moments when we loved well and the moments when we did not.

And Christ meets us with mercy and says again: Come follow me. Come work in my vineyard. Begin again.