Last week Peter talked about the dramatic end of Luke chapter 19. Jesus is being cheered and hurrahed into Jerusalem, palm branches waving, crowds ecstatic. And all of a sudden he stops and, very publicly, he weeps. He weeps because the leaders in Jerusalem have not realised who he is, and as a result the city will be brutally demolished – down to the last stone, down to the last child. And then he goes into the temple and drives out the profiteering merchants, to foreshadow the horrendous judgment that will befall the city and its temple. It’s a dramatic climax to Palm Sunday that you don’t get in many Sunday school books and children’s Bibles.
They say that a fool doesn’t learn from his mistakes. That you’re better off if you do learn from your mistakes. But that the truly wise person will learn from the mistakes of others before making them himself. Well we have a chance to be wise this morning, because these Jewish leaders made the very mistake that we are in danger of making. It would be easy to look at Jerusalem€” how she didn’t recognise Jesus, how she was judged by God€” and to read it as an irrelevant piece of ancient history. But Luke wants to tell us that we, his readers, could easily make those same mistakes. So the passage we are looking at this morning tells us how to learn from their mistakes, how to be truly wise. So do you want to be wise and learn from the mistakes of these Jews? Then look with me at this passage.
The passage falls into two halves. First Jesus is asked about his authority, and then he tells a parable about a vineyard. Let’s look at each half in turn – and to help us I’ll give each half a heading to summarise what I think is going on.
Jesus has real authority, but it is rejected
First, Jesus has real authority, but it is rejected. Jesus has real authority, but it is rejected.
Chapter 19 ended with the people hanging on his words. Day by day he was teaching in the temple, and the crowds couldn’t get enough of him. But the group described by Luke in chapter 19 verse 47 as the chief priests, the teachers of the law and the leaders among the people wanted him dead. The trouble is, Jesus was surrounded by adoring and attentive crowds. They wanted to kill him, but they couldn’t manage to pull it off.
So in chapter 20, it’s time for plan B. Plan B is to try and catch him out with a trick question. Verses 1 to 8 is an attempt to discredit him personally; next week they try and catch him out politically and then theologically.
Here comes the personal question then: (verse 2): “Tell us by what authority you are doing these things. Who gave you this authority?” We are the authorities in this temple. You have turned up, cleaned it out, and are using it as a platform for your own teaching. Who do you think you are? We didn’t give you authority to do this, so who did? We’re listening, and it’d better be good!
Jesus answer is a stroke of genius. “‘Where did John the Baptist’s ministry come from?’ he says. Tell you what, I’ll make it easy for you. Multiple choice. Was it (a) God, (b) man?” And then we get to hear them deliberate. They’re caught.
John pointed to Jesus, so they can’t say that John got his ministry from God. At least they can’t say that if they want to go on hating Jesus! But look at the crowds – they loved John and they love Jesus even more. They’d be lynched if they tried to say John got his ministry from man. So they’re stuck. And what you get is a mumbled “No Comment”. And Jesus says: Fine, no comment it is then!
As I say, it’s a stroke of genius. I used to think that his question back to them was arbitrary. That he asked them about John the Baptist, but he may as well have set them a really hard Su Doku puzzle, or a cryptic crossword, that he’s just picked a tricky one so that he can dodge the question. But Jesus’ answer is far better than that. What he’s done is asked them their own question back. John the Baptist’s authority is so tied up with his own, that he has asked them to answer their own question. But they haven’t got the courage to say what they really think, so he’s exposed them.
What’s happened is that the fox has become the hound. They came to Jesus, claiming to be the real authorities in all matters related to the temple. They go away looking like a bunch of incompetent politicians who won’t face the real questions. OK, get this: These authorities-on-all-matters-religious have just had to say “No Comment” in front of a huge crowd of people when asked the most important question that everybody was asking that day: Who is this new teacher?... Oh dear.
But then look at it from Jesus’ angle. He’s teaching away, the people are loving it. And then, oh no, trouble strikes – the authorities have turned up. You can imagine everyone thinking: Oh no! What are they doing here. Looks like it’s home time now. And he was just getting good! But by the time the discussion has finished, it’s clear to all that Jesus has authority from God to teach. His authority is intact and final. After all John the Baptist thought so. And the crowds of people thought so.
So far Plan B has backfired. It’s now clear to all that the supposed religious authorities have no authority at all, and it’s clear that Jesus has all the authority he needs to teach as he does.
Which is why I went for a heading of Jesus has real authority, but it is rejected.
On holiday, we started watching the second series of the American drama “24”. One of the things I love is the way that Americans seem to know who’s in charge. From a whole range of characters: With utter respect and no thought to disobedience: “Yes, Mr President”. If the president says it, then it goes.
Whereas in the gospels, Peter is recorded as putting together two words that don’t belong with each other: No, Lord. We talk of Jesus as “the Lord”. We talk of “taking things to the Lord in prayer”. But that doesn’t stop us from saying “No” to him. And yet Jesus has authority, Jesus is Lord, far more so than the president of the United States. So if an American would say without hesitation, “Yes, Mr President”, how much more should our immediate submission be to say “Yes, Lord Jesus” to him.
Jesus has real authority, but it is rejected.
God’s people had real privilege, but it was abused.
That’s the first half of our passage. Then we come to the parable, which I’ll give the heading God’s people had real privilege, but it was abused. God’s people had real privilege, but it was abused.
Verse 9 tells us that Jesus went on to tell the people a parable. A parable that unpacks the rebellion of the leadership is told to the people at large. Yet again, this is our chance to learn from the mistakes of other people.
And the story Jesus tells is a story of a vineyard. In the Old Testament, God often used the vineyard as a picture of his people – take a look at Isaiah 5 or Psalm 80. So Jesus picks up that story and carries it on. A farmer plants a vineyard and rents it to some tenants. The Old Testament background tells us that this is God giving promises of great blessing to his people, the Jewish nation.
But they were tenants, not owners. So God expects fruit. God expects his people to live lives that are devoted to him. It is a great privilege for them to be given God’s vineyard to look after, but with that great privilege comes great responsibility.
Whatever you think of Gordon Brown as our new Prime Minister, his maiden speech on the steps of Downing Street on June 27th shows that he’s grasped this link between privilege and responsibility. Here’s what he said: “I have just accepted the invitation of Her Majesty the Queen to form a government. This will be a new government, with new priorities, and I have been privileged to have been granted the great opportunity to serve my country. And at all times I will be strong in purpose, steadfast in will, resolute in action, in the service of what matters to the British people, meeting the concerns and aspirations of our whole country.”
History will tell the story of whether he lives up to those responsibilities. But at that moment he was clear that he was in a position of great privilege, and he therefore had great responsibilities to live up to. The same was true of the Jewish people in the Old Testament. They had been blessed by the God of heaven and earth with some amazing promises; what a privilege! And so they are responsible for what they do with that privilege; God expects fruit.
So what God does he sends a servant to collect that fruit. The Old Testament prophets reminded the people of their obligation to live as the people of God, to reflect God’s character and ways. But these tenants wanted to be owners not tenants, freeholders not leaseholders. So verse 10 says that they beat the servant and sent him away empty handed.
What does God do next? He sends… another servant. Verse 11: He sent another servant, but that one also they beat and treated shamefully and sent away empty-handed.
At this point, things aren’t looking good. The tenants seem determined to behave like they own the place. What can the owner do next? His options are beginning to look limited. Well the answer is… another servant. Verse 12: He sent still a third, and they wounded him and threw him out.
God has been amazingly patient. If it was us, we’d have given the tenants the boot long ago. You get stories from time to time in the news about utility companies being somewhat ruthless over unpaid bills. The cases that make the news are the one where you have a single mum or an elderly person who needs to keep warm. Cut off over one missed payment. Well God in this story is the exact opposite. Servant is beaten and sent away with nothing, so he sends another one. Beaten, mistreated and sent away empty handed, so he sends yet another one. Remarkably patient.
God has one last envoy left. His own son. If the servants came to represent the owner, the son does so even more. This is the heir of the whole estate after all. When the son turns up to ask for the fruit, it is as good as if the owner himself came.
What the tenants do next is absolutely shocking. Verse 14: But when the tenants saw him, they talked the matter over. ‘This is the heir,’ they said. ‘Let’s kill him and the inheritance will be ours.’ So they threw him out of the vineyard and killed him.
It’s shocking because I can’t really believe they thought it would work. Did they really think the owner would rewrite his will so that his son’s murderers would become his sole beneficiaries? It’s madness?
It’s shocking because they did it with a high hand. This wasn’t an honest mistake. It wasn’t a case of mistaken identity. It was precisely because they did recognise him as the owner’s son that they chose to kill him. They did recognise his authority, and this was how far they were willing to go in their defiance. Absolutely shocking!
And yet, of course, exactly what was about to happen. Jesus wants the crowds to feel the shock of this. Because he wants them to see what their leaders are about to do, and to see how appalling it is. Because he doesn’t want them to join in with such horrendous mistreatment of God and of his son. Because Luke doesn’t want us to make the same mistake.
I wonder whether you’ve ever walked out of a supermarket with something that you haven’t paid for? I’m sure you haven’t – but there are different ways of doing it, and they fall on a scale of how serious they are. At one end, there’s the Buy One Get One Free offer. Then there’s getting home and checking your receipts to find that a box of own-brand economy tissues wasn’t run through the till. Price 29 pence. Then there’s getting home and checking your receipts to find that the rather nice Scottish bottle of Single Malt didn’t get run through – price £19.99. Then there’s that moment when you realise the security guard has gone to the toilet, and make a run for it with the bottle of Single Malt stuffed under your jumper!
What the tenants in the story do, what the Jews in Jerusalem do, what we must make sure we don’t do – is the whiskey under the jumper version of it. Actually it’s the entire supermarket stockroom of whiskey into the van version of it. These tenants knew this was the son – and therefore decide to kill him. Which, as I say, is precisely what was to happen to Jesus just days later.
But that isn’t the end of the story. Jesus predicts that God will chuck the tenants out. Indeed, he’ll destroy them. And 40 years later, in A.D. 70, the Roman army surrounded Jerusalem and destroyed city, temple and people with x-rated violence. No more vineyard, no more promises, no more blessings for the Jewish race. Instead God will give his promises, his blessings, his kingdom to new tenants. To people of any and every race who will come in repentance and faith to the Lord Jesus Christ.
Which isn’t to say that there’s no hope left for the Jews. Far from it. The leaders of the new tenants were to be the 11 apostles, all of whom were Jewish. But the era of national privilege for the Jews has closed. And God’s vineyard has been in the hands of new tenants since A.D. 70. All that privilege of being tenants in God’s vineyard, all those promises, all those blessings – are open to us. All that responsibility that goes with it – is open to us.
And they may have killed the son but that’s not the end of his authority. Jesus quotes Psalm 118 – he is the stone the builders rejected that has become the cornerstone or capstone. The picture is of a group of builders looking round for pieces of stone to use for building a new house. Lying on one side is a stone that they kicked there – they could think of no use for it, so it was discarded – doesn’t fit into the building. But when the building was finished, that was the stone that was in the most important place. The capstone was the one at the top of the arch that held the arch up. The cornerstone was the one at the base of the corner that set the angles for the whole building. In prime position – the stone they didn’t even want.
And so we are about to witness Jesus being thrown onto the rubbish heap. But in the new world order, in the vineyard with a new tenancy, the Jesus they discarded will be in first place. It is coming to know him that makes you a tenant in God’s vineyard now.
Jesus has real authority, but it is rejected. As we’ve seen – really badly rejected. And second, God’s people had real privilege, but it was abused.
Conclusion
Which leaves us with the question of what we will do with the authority of Jesus. Will we learn from the mistakes that these Jewish leaders made, or will we merely repeat them?
If this is a normal Sunday, there will be people here who would not yet call themselves Christians, but who are still looking into the claims of Jesus. If that’s you, it’s great that you’re here, because he is cornerstone of the building, heir of the vineyard, and the one with all God’s authority.
The challenge, as you look into the claims of Jesus, is to realise that your investigation isn’t just intellectual. It’s moral as well. The tenants in the story killed the son precisely because they did know who he was. So please keep asking questions and investigating, working out what you make of Jesus. But as you do so, ask the question: If I was persuaded that he is the son, would I kill him or would I follow him? As you gradually become more persuaded of the truth of his claims, does that make you more inclined to follow him, or more inclined to run away.
Most of us here are followers of Jesus, tenants in the vineyard, stones in the building of which he is the cornerstone. Which doesn’t mean that these warnings are for other people. No, it means that they are for us. Jesus told this parable not to the religious authorities who hated him but to the very people who loved him. Luke recorded all this so that Christian men and women like us might not repeat these very mistakes.
Jesus has real authority. That authority is over us now. He is, indeed, our Lord. Jesus has real authority, but it was rejected. Will we reject it? Or will we see that he is Lord, Son, Heir, Cornerstone, and say to him “Yes, Lord Jesus” whenever he asks anything of us – more speedily and willingly than the most patriotic American would say “Yes, Mr President”.
God’s people had real privilege, but it was abused. Which means that the vineyard now has a new tenancy agreement. That privilege is now offered to us. What a privilege! Not only has God been generous to give us the tenancy of his vineyard, but he’s done so having had to kick out the first lot of tenants. God is an immensely patient landlord. Inhumanly patient – that is the gospel, that God is patient with us beyond anything else we’ve ever experienced. But will we give our patient landlord the fruit of devoted lives? Or will we too abuse the privilege we enjoy – by thinking that it’s OK to live as we please.
Chapter 19, verse 47: “Every day he was teaching in the temple. But the chief priests, the teachers of the law and the leaders among the people were trying to kill him… Yet they could not find any way to do it, because all the people hung on his words.”