Sermon from Palm Sunday 2024 (The Parable of the Vineyard Owner and the Wicked Tenants)

I can remember sitting with a friend, years ago, in a restaurant. On the screens surrounding us was a televised political debate (I honestly can’t remember who was even in it at the time) - but I do remember one moment in which I looked at my friend (who wasn’t a Christian) and said, “I can’t imagine a single one of those politicians climbing up on a cross for me.” The reason this came to mind for me this week is because studying this parable has caused me to reflect on the nature of authority and power in our culture, as well as approval and, especially rejection. I don't think it's unfair to say that every person on that TV screen was looking for approval from the crowd, and furthermore looking to leverage that approval to shore up their own power, their own influence in our culture. And I believe that the reason the image of the cross popped into my head at that moment was because it symbolized something so diametrically opposed to what was happening on that screen: namely, the approval of people as compared to rejection by people, the honor of fame, title and power as compared to the dishonor of accusation and shame. And in that moment, I experienced just a glimpse of clarity: the paradoxical beauty of rejection and how repulsive the obsession for worldly power and authority can be. This sermon is ultimately a reminder that Jesus, despite the power within his grasp, chose and experienced rejection, but more than that, this rejection not merely a virtuous choice on the part of a religious teacher, but was a vital part of God's plan for rescuing and redeeming a world bent around approval.

So this message is the final parable in our series looking at the parables in Luke’s gospel, and this one comes immediately after two important events that set the context for the parable itself: first, Jesus’ “triumphal entry” into Jerusalem, in which he rode a donkey and was praised by the crowds singing “Hosanna!” Second, right after this provocative entry into the capital city, according to Luke, he even-more provocatively entered the temple and “cleansed” it by sending out the moneychangers; Luke explicitly tells us that at this point the “chief priests, scribes and leaders” were “looking for a way to kill him.” After this, these figures (chief priests, scribes, etc.) approach him while he is teaching in the temple, and they confront him with this famous question: “by whose authority do you do these things??” (Luke 20.2)

Jesus is no longer in the more-rural settings that he has frequented, like Galilee. He has pivoted to Jerusalem, the seat of Jewish religious-political power, and now is coming into conflict with the figures ensconced right in the midst of that power. In today’s terms, it would be kind of like the difference between interacting with some local city council members here, or even the city mayor of Portland, as compared to marching into D.C. and being confronted with U.S. Senators. So Jesus is in the thick of worldly power right now. He has marched right into the temple itself, the seat of authority for the religious and political systems for the Jews (remember that Jerusalem was famously the place where King David himself ruled from) and Jesus is acting like he has every right and authority to act like he’s in charge right there! The question from the chief priests is charged. Note the use of the word “authority” (Greek 'exousia'), and Jesus refuses to give a clear answer to their question, instead offering a parable:

9 Now he began to tell the people this parable: “A man planted a vineyard, leased it to tenant farmers, and went away for a long time. 10 At harvest time he sent a servant to the farmers so that they might give him some fruit from the vineyard. But the farmers beat him and sent him away empty-handed. 11 He sent yet another servant, but they beat that one too, treated him shamefully, and sent him away empty-handed. 12 And he sent yet a third, but they wounded this one too and threw him out. (Luke 20.9-12)

Culturally at the time, it would not have been very unusual for a vineyard-owner to be absent for a period of time and leave the property in charge of tenants. But as we will see, this parable is not really about a “vineyard” and “farmers." It’s probably fair to say that this parable is the most-clearly allegorical of all the parables we have looked at: Jesus is saying a lot about God and Israel and especially those currently leading Israel. And I need to give just a bit of OT background to make this clear. Jesus is pulling on an extremely well-known passage from the prophet Isaiah:

I will sing about the one I love, a song about my loved one’s vineyard . . .What more could I have done for my vineyard than I did? Why, when I expected a yield of good grapes, did it yield worthless grapes? . . . For the vineyard of the Lord of Armies is the house of Israel, and the men of Judah, the plant he delighted in. He expected justice but saw injustice; he expected righteousness but heard cries of despair. (Isaiah 5.1-7)

This is an ancient prophetic word (given centuries before Jesus walked around), and it images Israel as God’s “vineyard” that he planted in the world, a vineyard that was intended to produce good fruit for the world, but instead was producing the “worthless grapes” of injustice and despair. Again, this was a well-known passage from a well-known Jewish prophet (and very-certainly would have been a well-known prophecy to these religious elites Jesus is being confronted by!), so when Jesus says the words, “a man planted a vineyard,” they would be expected to instantly think, “he’s talking about Israel!” And these leaders would have known that when Isaiah wrote this passage, he was making the point that Israel was not bearing the fruit that God intended. And this theme of prophecy and prophets is further underlined by the “servant-figures,” in the parable. They illustrate the way that Israel historically treated the prophets God sent, the same prophets (like Isaiah!) that were calling Israel’s leadership to the carpet, pointing out that they are not living and embodying what God called them to, and Israel historically did not treat these figures well. Now, remember the context and think for a second: how are these chief priests and scribes likely to respond to all this? Jesus is casting them in this fictional story as the “tenants," those currently overseeing the vineyard of Israel, but these tenants beat and shamefully treated the servants that God himself sent into the vineyard! But there’s more to the story….

13 “Then the owner of the vineyard said, ‘What should I do? I will send my beloved son. Perhaps they will respect him.’ 14 “But when the tenant farmers saw him, they discussed it among themselves and said, ‘This is the heir. Let’s kill him, so that the inheritance will be ours.’ 15 So they threw him out of the vineyard and killed him. (Luke 20.13-15)

The language of “beloved son” here is very specific. There’s really no question that this is pulling on the language back from Jesus’ own baptism, when God spoke and declared him “beloved.” (see Luke 3.22) Jesus is telling a fictional story to the religious leaders of the time, and is using this vineyard-image to make one of the clearest references to the role that he seems himself playing in this whole drama. Jesus knows he has been sent by God “into the vineyard” and he knows that he will be rejected, but he’s also making a troubling accusation: that the ones currently in charge of the vineyard want to “steal” the inheritance for themselves. It seems as though these leaders have forgotten that they are tenants and stewards of something that is not theirs. They have become so twisted around their own desire to usurp control, to maintain their own authority over the vineyard that they don’t recognize the "beloved son" of the vineyard-owner as worth their respect. To any listener of this story, it is clear that these tenants are not stewarding this vineyard well, and something needs to change. Jesus continues…

“What then will the owner of the vineyard do to them? 16 He will come and kill those farmers and give the vineyard to others.”But when they heard this they said, “That must never happen!” (Luke 20.15-16)

Notice that when Jesus articulates what the vineyard-owner will do, that he will decisively end their authority and ownership and give the vineyard to others, the religious leaders interrupt, using an emphatic phrase, “No way!!” This Greek phrase (me genoito) is a bit obscured in English, but it’s an emotional outburst. Paul uses it a handful of times in his letters when he is emphatically trying to grab your attention. Picture an angry or emotional "NO!! NEVER!" This reaction, in my view, makes it pretty clear that the leaders were “getting the point,” they clearly know that Jesus is actually talking about them through this parable, but even though they “get it” in terms of understanding the scriptural imagery and symbolism, the clearly don’t “get it” at all on a deeper level.

17 But he looked at them and said, “Then what is the meaning of this Scripture: The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone? 18 Everyone who falls on that stone will be broken to pieces, but on whomever it falls, it will shatter him.” 19 Then the scribes and the chief priests looked for a way to get their hands on him that very hour, because they knew he had told this parable against them, but they feared the people. (Luke 20.17-19)

Jesus lands the lesson of this parable with a quote from Psalm 118, with the image of a "rejected cornerstone." This psalm uses the language of stones and buildings to express the way in which that which is rejected by the world can actually become the very thing chosen by God to be the cornerstone, the foundation upon which everything else rests, and Jesus is knowingly using this quotation to point to himself as the embodiment of this in God’s grand plan for, not just Israel, but the world. In other words, while looking straight at the religious elites that have just publicly questioned the legitimacy of his authority in the middle of the temple, Jesus is saying “you may reject me now, but God will subvert that rejection, and it will become the thing by which you are shattered. Your authority over Israel now is more fragile than you know.” Notably, the hardness of their hearts is confirmed by their reaction - they indeed grew in anger, grew in stubborn disposition to hold onto their power, and ultimately would “succeed” (in earthly terms) in rejecting Jesus and getting him crucified.

And so I want to turn to communion now, and tie this all into the fact that we are recognizing Palm Sunday today. Human approval and rejection are fickle things. Adoring crowds shouting “Hosanna!” at the beginning of one week can become a mob screaming “crucify him!” by the weeks’ end. But thank God that he is not fickle like we are. Thank God that he is committed to his “vineyard,” to his plan to grow good fruit in our world, to rescue us despite our fickle attitudes, to send prophets over centuries to call us back, and, ultimately, to even come to us himself.

So as you come to the communion table, remember that the cracker/bread and wine/juice point to the real flesh and blood of the “cornerstone” that has been rejected. Remember that this is what God’s triumph looks like. Don’t be seduced by the vision of an adoring crowd with palm branches. Resist the allure of worldly power, because we know in faith that what looks like defeat, what looks like true rejection is merely the precursor to resurrection……

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