A Homily for Friday of the Second Week of Lent
Friday, March 6, 2026
Prince of Peace Catholic Church – 8:00 Mass
Genesis 37:3-4, 12-13a, 17b-28a; Psalm 105:16-17, 18-19, 20-21; Matthew 21:33-43, 45-46
Audio Recording
In today’s readings we see a striking pattern repeated: God sends someone to His people, and that person is rejected. In the first reading from Genesis, Joseph is rejected by his own brothers. Joseph was his father’s beloved son, and that favoritism stirred jealousy in their hearts. Instead of seeing Joseph as a gift from God, they allowed envy and resentment to grow. Eventually their anger became so strong that they plotted against him, threw him into a pit, and sold him into slavery. What makes the story so tragic is that Joseph’s suffering came from those who should have loved him most—his own family.
In the Gospel, Jesus tells a parable that echoes this same pattern. A landowner carefully prepares a vineyard. He plants it, builds a protective hedge, digs a winepress, and constructs a tower. Every detail shows the care of the owner. Nothing is lacking. The vineyard has been given everything necessary to flourish and bear fruit. In the language of Scripture, the vineyard represents the people of God. The Lord has planted His people, protected them, and given them every grace they need. The problem in the parable is not the vineyard but the tenants who were entrusted with it, the chief priests and the elders.
When harvest time comes, the owner sends servants to collect the fruit that belongs to him. But the tenants beat one servant, kill another, and stone a third. Finally, the owner sends his own son, thinking they will respect him. Instead, the tenants say, “This is the heir. Come, let us kill him and acquire his inheritance.” Jesus tells this parable knowing that it points directly to what will soon happen to Him. The Son sent by the Father will be rejected, cast out, and killed.
At the heart of this rejection is pride. The religious leaders had been entrusted with caring for God’s people, but their hearts became attached to power and status, much like the evil of clericalism that was confronted by Pope Francis as he called out the behavior of priests who were distant from and thought they were superior to their flocks. Pope Francis reprimanded priests who exercised authority “without humility but with detached and haughty attitudes.”
We see this same clericalism in play in today’s gospel. Pride slowly blinded the Jewish clerics so that they could no longer recognize God’s work when it stood right before them. The very Messiah they had long awaited was present among them, yet they refused to accept Him.
This same temptation of pride can exist in our own hearts, though usually in quieter ways. Pride can make us cling to our own plans rather than God’s will. It can make us resistant to correction or unwilling to see the good in others. It’s pride that makes us forget that everything we have — and our lives, our faith, our families, and our talents — is entrusted to us by God. Everything we have, every breath we take, is a gift from God.
Yet there is another theme in these readings that gives us hope: God’s plan cannot be defeated by human sin. Joseph’s brothers believed they had removed him forever, yet God used their betrayal to accomplish something far greater. Joseph would eventually become the instrument through which many people — including his own family — were saved from famine. What looked like disaster became the beginning of salvation.
The same mystery reaches its fullness in Jesus. Those who rejected Him believed they had eliminated a threat. Yet through His suffering and death, God accomplished the greatest act of redemption the world has ever known. As Jesus quotes Psalm 118, “The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.” He is the essential element of salvation itself.
My brothers and sisters, Lent invites us to allow the Lord to examine our hearts and root out whatever pride may be there. When we allow Him to humble and reshape us, we become the faithful tenants He desires — people who bear fruit for His Kingdom.
And that is why we come to the altar with hope today. The One who was rejected now becomes our cornerstone, and through Him God continues to bring life even out of the crosses we carry.