A Vineyard, A Stone, and a Savior - Luke 20:9-19

This parable should make you uncomfortable.

It did 2000 years ago when Jesus told it to people who gathered around Him in the Temple. They were listening to Him preach and teach just a couple days after the triumphal celebratory entry of Palm Sunday. It’s the kind of reading that when I say, “This is the Gospel of the Lord,” you aren’t sure if the correct response is “Thanks be to God” or “May it not be so.” That was the reaction of those people in the Temple.  It very likely is yours as well because it leaves us with an uneasy feeling.

It should make you uncomfortable that the master seems to have such disregard for his servants. To send one servant to collect the master’s share as landlord was a standard business practice – it makes sense. But when he was beaten and sent away without the share, and then the master sent a second, who is shamed, and then a third, who is badly wounded, that is dereliction of duty as master. It’s irresponsible. He can claim ignorance for the first servant, but he is fully and knowingly liable for the injuries of the second and then the third servant, all who go at his order.

It should make you uncomfortable that the master decides to send his son. What makes him think that the tenants will respect the son any more than they did the three servants who represented the master? If they treated his servants that way, getting progressively more violent, then why did he risk his son’s life? For that matter, why send a fourth representative at all? The tenants have shown complete disregard for him as the landowner and for human life – call the authorities, fill out the proper paperwork, and let them deal with the unruly and unthankful thieves and abusers.

It should make you uncomfortable that the tenants think that if they kill the son, they will inherit the property. Inheritance goes to family, to kin, not to tenants – and especially not when the master is still alive. The likelihood of their being the beneficiary – in particular, after murdering the son – is for all intents and purposes, zero, yet that is the rationale for their murderous plot. Kill the son and then we will be our own boss and we won’t have to deal with the master and his rules any longer. I suspect part of their misguided thought is the knowledge that the master is far away and, presumably, a long time from returning. During that time, maybe he will die, or maybe his anger will lessen, or if nothing else, they can figure out a way to escape, at least with all of the year’s crop instead of having to share it.

It should make you uncomfortable that the master, when he hears that his son has been taken out of the vineyard and murdered in cruel, cold blood, he comes with a vengeance to destroy the tenants and give the vineyard to others.

Remember, parables are told to give us insight into the kingdom of God, to tell us something of the work of God in heaven and on earth, and to help us understand God’s plan of salvation for us in Christ Jesus. While there is sometimes a bit of unresolved tension – as there was last week, leaving us wondering about the older brother’s repentance and change of heart – there is usually a very strong undercurrent of grace, mercy and favor. Again, last week, the prodigal returns home and is welcomed back by a father whom he wished dead.

It doesn’t take much to figure out what this parable is about. Connecting the dots, the landowner master is God the Father. The servants are Old Testament prophets whom he repeatedly sent, even though they were mistreated and killed. The tenants represent the Jewish leaders, specifically, the leaders who have turned away from the promises of God to be fulfilled in Messiah. The vineyard represents God’s people who are to served and tended by the leaders. The son is, of course, God’s only Son, Jesus Christ who comes bearing the Father’s name. The parable foretells the rejection of Jesus by the Jewish leaders, just as they rejected the prophets. Even the son’s death-place is noteworthy, in the parable, outside the vineyard; in real life, outside the city walls. It’s a simple story to demonstrate that rejecting the Messiah, rejecting Jesus, has terrible consequences – specifically for the chief priests, scribes, and elders who stood nearby grumbling while Jesus told the parable.

But in this parable, there is no celebration of a lamb returned to the fold, no rejoicing because a misplaced coin is safely tucked into a purse. Instead, it speaks of destruction. We are not used to reading of God’s wrath and anger at sin and man’s sinfulness, justified though it may be, and we see the folly of rejecting God, His Word, His prophets, and His Son, and we see the wicked inclination of man’s heart with greed, theft, coveting and murder.

Those very leaders whom the parable was about, they stood nearby listening. While Jesus told some parables to confuse those who did not believe, this one was told plainly and bluntly without any hidden meaning. They understood plainly that this parable was about them, directed against them, describing their failure as stewards of God’s people and God’s wrath and pending judgement against them.

God had been incredibly patient with ancient Israel and her leaders, sending prophet after prophet, warning of His judgement against their unfaithfulness. When one prophet was tortured or killed, He sent another. Job security was not high on the list of reasons to become a prophet. He did it out of His loving faithfulness to His people, not wanting any to see condemnation. Again and again, prophet after prophet, He sent His spokesmen to proclaim, Thus saith the Lord, calling them to repentance, to change from their sinful ways of the world and pleading with them to return to the Lord their God. He is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. Finally, in the fulness of time, He sent His Son into the Vineyard of Israel. Surely, they will respect the Son. But they don’t. They reject His Messiahship, His Divine Sonship, and His Davidic Throne. They reject His promises, His grace, and His words. They reject His invitation to repent and to live under His grace and mercy. While the people, the sinners, tax collectors and prostitutes all receive Jesus Words with open ears – the leaders refuse, seeing that very thing as proof of their claim: no Messiah would do such a thing and stoop so low. They deny Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God.

Jesus doubles down, warning that He is the rejected stone who is now the cornerstone of all of the promises of God. That was almost too much. They were ready to take the son out of the vineyard right then and kill him. The only thing that stopped the elders and leaders from fulfilling the parable at that moment was that they feared the people who were still listening.

Jesus was against them – for their unbelief, their disbelief, their failure to remain faithful, and for leading others astray.

So, that leaves one question. Where are you in the parable? Jesus says the landowner will take the vineyard from the unfaithful and give it to others. In His death and resurrection, Jesus gives the kingdom to you. Now, be careful how you see this. The vineyard, the kingdom, is a gift of grace, not something earned. He is against the world, against anyone who will not accept His forgiveness of the world by grace through faith alone. He brings His gavel of judgement down on the folly of self-justifying, self-aggrandizing, and self-advancing. Don’t think you’re better than the Jewish leaders or the Israelites of old. Resist the temptation to demand your worth and instead, humble yourself as the one whom Jesus gives gifts to out of His love.

There are only two options when dealing with Jesus as the cornerstone of salvation. You either fall, broken, upon Christ in repentance and faith, to be lifted up as new beings, part of the church of God, the living stones of Christ who is the very Temple of God; or, remaining in unbelief and denial of Jesus as Savior causes the stony wrath of God to come crashing and crushing down in judgement.

We are coming to the climax of Lent. Next Sunday is Palm Sunday, or in the newer parlance, Sunday of the Passion. We’ll begin the service in the Education Building with palm branches, joining the ancient Jerusalem congregation in singing our Hosannahs and processing into the sanctuary. We’ll then hear the narrative of Jesus’ passion as he dies for the sins of the world on the cross.

The cross – that’s still the great stumbling stone. Some stumble over the fact that Jesus was the Savior, tripping even further that His is the only name that saves. Some stumble over the truth that God’s Word cannot be changed, not by political winds, conventional wisdom, or cultural changes. Some stumble that grace is truly that simple – not easy; Jesus’ death was not easy – but it is simple. Some slip and slide on the reality that they can’t save themselves, or that they need saving at all. Some stumble so far and fast that they, like the leaders in Jerusalem, see Jesus as the ultimate threat and want nothing more than to rid the world of Jesus, His name, and His followers.

But for the church, the cross is the power of God and the salvation of those who believe. On Good Friday, on God’s Friday, we’ll rejoice that Jesus died for you, for me, even for those who rejected Him. Our rejoicing will be muted, after all, our salvation cost His life. But, in His death, it is finished and we no longer fear death, sin, or satan.

“The stone the builders rejected will become the capstone.” It’s funny: Pilate will order a stone placed in front of Jesus’ tomb. He’ll place his seal, his stamp, on it so that no one can disturb it. The idea was that on Sunday, with the stone still standing and untouched, it would demonstrate the fraud that Jesus was. Instead, the stone was rolled away as a dead man was raised to life and the gates to the vineyard, the Kingdom, were thrown open. 

I began by saying this parable should make you uncomfortable. Take comfort in this: A stone cannot keep Jesus, the capstone of the world’s salvation, hidden.