Go and work in the vineyard. Reminiscent of last week’s lesson, only this time, the owner’s talking to his sons, not some hired workers. One of them says he’ll go and doesn’t. One of them says he won’t go but does. Who does the right thing? Easy. The one who said he wouldn’t but did still gets credit for doing the right thing.
Easy, and yet so very devastatingly hard, because of what this parable means for us. Jesus was talking to the Sanhedrin—the high priest and the advisory council of the Jews— when he told this parable, the second part of our Gospel which for whatever reason was not printed on our bulletins for this week. The Sanhedrin wanted to know who gave Jesus the right to teach and preach and heal as He did. They wanted to know, because they were the ones who thought they had all the power and authority in the Jewish society of their day. They were the ones who had the control of the temple and its precinct, that lone region of Roman rule where the Romans let the Jews police themselves.
They had power. Jesus comes cruising into town on a donkey, with the people acclaiming him the Messiah, the Son of David. Jesus comes into the temple courts and drives out their money-making changers and officially sanctioned animal sellers. And they can’t claim that Jesus was wrong for doing what He did. After all, the Gentile court was supposed to be the temple too. But they just want to know where Jesus gets off being Mr. High-and-Mighty.
They don’t believe in Jesus, you see, and they have a big blind spot there or they would know that Jesus is Mr. High-and-Mighty; indeed, that Jesus just happens to be the Messiah which they were supposed to be waiting for and looking for. That blind spot is their own power, their own traditions, their own rules, their connection to the Roman authorities and powers.
So Jesus throws the question right back at them. John the Baptist, what authority did he have to be baptizing people for the forgiveness of sins? John had a mandate from God. He was the last and greatest of the Old Testament prophets. He was the long-foretold voice in the wilderness preparing the way of the Lord.
But John was inconvenient. He struck at the sins of pride and greed and selfishness, sins which the Sanhedrin had fairly much made their own business model. The high-priesthood itself, which was supposed to be divinely handed on through Aaron’s household had become something which could be purchased if you greased Rome’s palm the right way. The temple had become a money-maker for those in the loop, instead of the way of serving God’s people with the forgiveness and safe access to God’s presence in prayer which it had been intended to be.
John was inconvenient, and the Sanhedrin certainly hadn’t made a fuss when Herod had John imprisoned and later beheaded. It wasn’t good for business to have someone like John pointing out what faith in God was really about.
And now Jesus had struck a blow even closer to home. This required a careful answer. There were other people around. John was widely regarded as a prophet. To denounce John—who, although certainly strange, really did seem to be a prophet, and who had taught nothing against the Torah or the other prophets, would be risking the people uprising and overthrowing their power over the temple precinct. To accept John, to admit his baptism was from God, would be to admit their own failures and shortcomings.
So the Sanhedrin give their careful answer. “We don’t know.” The Canadian play-it-safe option. Carefully calculated to offend nobody, saying nothing—and yet, even so, revealing everything about their motives. John wasn’t a we-don’t-know kind of prophet, but one who demanded a response.
And so Jesus doesn’t answer their question. Instead, He tells this parable. “What do you think? A man had two sons. And he went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’ And he answered, ‘I will not,’ but afterward he changed his mind and went. And he went to the other son and said the same. And he answered, ‘I go, sir,’ but did not go. Which of the two did the will of his father?” They said, “The first.” Jesus said to them, “Truly, I say to you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes go into the kingdom of God before you. For John came to you in the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him. And even when you saw it, you did not afterward change your minds and believe him.” (Matthew 21:28-32 ESV)
Go and work in the vineyard. That’s the call of faith. Jesus calls to all who hear His Word to take up the cross and follow Him. That’s working the vineyard, that old, old metaphor used in the Old Testament time and again to indicate being part of God’s people. One son said I will, but didn’t. One son said, I won’t, but later had a change of mind and did.
To put it more pointedly, Jesus notes that the ones who said they would but didn’t were precisely the Sanhedrin and their ilk. The people with the power and prestige in the religious culture of the day. The ones who had the role of preserving and encouraging the true faith among the people of Israel. And the ones who said they wouldn’t, but had the change of mind and did were the tax collectors and prostitutes and other sinners who believed. The down-and-out people of society, the outcasts, the ones who the religious leaders looked down on, those were the ones who heard the Word, repented, and will live.
And this should give us pause to think about our own lives and how we act toward our Lord and Saviour. Do you say you follow Jesus with your lips but deny Him by how you speak, act, and live? Do you come to church because it’s the place where Jesus serves you with His gifts or because it’s something that makes you look like a better person? Are you trusting in yourself or in Jesus? How does your way of life answer that question?
The call of our readings today is the call to repentance for all of us who trust in ourselves or think of ourselves as being good. The passage from Ezekiel, in the bit not read, denotes quite clearly what the Lord means by living as righteous: "If a man is righteous and does what is just and right-- if he does not eat upon the mountains or lift up his eyes to the idols of the house of Israel, does not defile his neighbor's wife or approach a woman in her time of menstrual impurity, does not oppress anyone, but restores to the debtor his pledge, commits no robbery, gives his bread to the hungry and covers the naked with a garment, does not lend at interest or take any profit, withholds his hand from injustice, executes true justice between man and man, walks in my statutes, and keeps my rules by acting faithfully--he is righteous; he shall surely live, declares the Lord GOD. (Ezekiel 18:5-9 ESV)
As you can see, in our profit-taking, interest-based economy, nobody’s left standing here. At very least, even if you think you get past the first part, once you hit the “walks in my statutes” line you’re forced to deal with the Ten Commandments as Jesus our Lord explained them in the Sermon on the Mount—and everyone is left wanting. As our Old Testament lesson notes, the soul that sins shall die. There’s no nice way of putting it. It would be nice to dismiss this as Ezekiel’s opinion, but it is the witness of the whole of Scripture. Sin equals death. If someone dies, it’s a result of sin. And the death rate on this planet is pretty much 100%.
All sins are counted in this. Big ones, little ones, open ones, hidden ones. Doesn’t matter to God. He knows all, He sees all. And His punishment for sin is death. Not because He likes to do it, but because it is against God’s very nature to sin, and God’s presence is so powerful that it destroys sin. Again, there is no nice way to sugar coat this. Maybe this makes you uncomfortable. It makes me uncomfortable. It should make us uncomfortable. It’s supposed to. As I said off the top, it’s easy to understand this parable, but it’s devastating.
In fact, by any standard, in any age, there is only one who has been truly righteous—the God-man, Jesus Christ. The desire of the Lord GOD is not that the wicked would die in their wickedness, but that rather you and I would receive a new heart and live. The true God takes no pleasure in destroying the wicked in their wickedness. Instead He calls all to repent of their sin, to turn away from those evil and self-serving ways and return to Him. This is why God gives pastors to His church, as we note on this seminary Sunday, to carry out this work of calling people to repentance and pointing them to their righteous one, Jesus.
Repent. Let go of those sins that you hold dear, and receive Christ’s forgiveness. Make a new start. For His forgiveness, won for you by His suffering and death on the Cross, makes you perfect before God. His grace gives you the power to live in the new life He has given you. In Baptism God has washed you clean of your sin, and in repentance you can return to that new life. As our catechism notes in the section on Baptism, the purpose behind Baptism is that “the Old Adam in us should by daily contrition and repentance be drowned and die with all sins and evil desires, and that a new man should daily emerge and arise to live before God in righteousness and purity forever.”
Even though by nature we don’t want to do things God’s way, He turns us around and changes our minds so we do go and work in His vineyard. He feeds us with His heavenly food of His Son’s body and blood to keep us ever mindful of who we now are by his grace, to keep us from being proud in ourselves and becoming like the son who says he will go but does not. For it is Jesus’ death that frees us from death, it is His life alone that gives life. The soul that sins shall die—but in Christ, a soul can live, for in Christ, all sin is removed. Repent, therefore, and live! God grant us all His gracious gift of life, for Christ’s sake. Amen.
Last updated October 2008 by the webmaster.