Matthew 21:23-32
23Jesus entered the temple courts, and, while he was teaching, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him. “By what authority are you doing these things?” they asked. “And who gave you this authority?”
24 Jesus replied, “I will also ask you one question. If you answer me, I will tell you by what authority I am doing these things. 25 John’s baptism—where did it come from? Was it from heaven, or of human origin?”
They discussed it among themselves and said, “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will ask, ‘Then why didn’t you believe him?’ 26 But if we say, ‘Of human origin’—we are afraid of the people, for they all hold that John was a prophet.”
27 So they answered Jesus, “We don’t know.”
Then he said, “Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things.
28 “What do you think? There was a man who had two sons. He went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work today in the vineyard.’
29 “‘I will not,’ he answered, but later he changed his mind and went.
30 “Then the father went to the other son and said the same thing. He answered, ‘I will, sir,’ but he did not go.
31 “Which of the two did what his father wanted?”
“The first,” they answered.
Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you. 32 For John came to you to show you the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes did. And even after you saw this, you did not repent and believe him.”
Let’s Be Real
Have you ever heard the concern – or maybe even the skepticism – about the Bible that the book we have in our hands today is a translation of a translation of a copy of a copy of an original that doesn’t exist anymore, and so we can’t be sure that what we’re reading now is what was written 2,000 years ago, i.e. that basically the Bible is the longest running game of Telephone in human history? You know that game, don’t you? I whisper in someone’s ear, “We love muddy puddles,” and then they whisper what they hear into someone else’s ear and so on and so forth until the last person in the line hears, “Olaf poodle puppies.” It’s a silly premise, but it’s a serious question. And the passage that we read a moment ago from Matthew 21 is a great example.
Jesus tells this parable about a father telling his two sons to go and work in the family vineyard. In the text that we read, the first son said, “No,” but then he changed his mind and did go and work in the vineyard; I’m going to call him the “no-yes” son. The second son said, “Yes,” but then he didn’t go; I’m going to call him the “yes-no” son. And when Jesus asked the chief priests which son was better, they picked the first son, i.e. the “no-yes” one.
Where Christians can feel squishy and where critics can feel saucy is understanding that there are actually other versions of this text, and the changes that those versions make seem to drastically change the whole story.
Maybe the most notable variant has the sons in the opposite order – the first son says, “Yes,” but doesn’t go; the second son says, “No,” but does go. And although the chief priests’ line stays exactly the same – “The first” – it completely changes their answer, because now instead of picking the son who eventually did do what his father wanted him to do, now they are picking the son who made a show of being good, but didn’t do anything that a good son should.
So, which one do you think is right? Which version of this passage is correct? Or, to ask you the same question that Jesus asked the chief priests: “Which of the two did what his father wanted”[1] – the son who said he’d work or the one who actually did?
How many of you think that the son who said, “No,” but did go is the one who did what his father wanted? And how many of you think that the son who said, “Yes,” but didn’t do anything is the one who did what his father wanted?
For the most part, we live in what some people would call a guilt-innocence culture – where your greatest virtue – the best thing you could do – is to accomplish something good, and your worst vice – the biggest sin you could commit – is failing to do something good. Whereas the ancient Jews of Jesus’ day lived in what some would call an honour-shame culture – where your greatest virtue is showing respect to someone – even if you don’t do anything worthwhile – and your greatest vice is showing disrespect to someone.
So – even though it sounds incredibly foreign to us, here and now, 2,000 years later – I could easily see a scenario in which the real-life ancient chief priests could have chosen the son who lied, but didn’t disrespect his father, as the son who did what his father wanted.
It’s a thorny question, but it’s one that – by Jesus’ own design – directly touches your soul.
The question that Jesus asked is brilliant, whether you live in a guilt-innocence culture like ours or an honour-shame culture like his. Jesus’ question is brilliant because it’s a trap. Neither answer is correct. Both sons were wrong. Neither did what his father wanted. Both sinned. But with this question, Jesus holds a mirror up to your soul and reveals to you not only which virtues you value, but also which vices you are more willing to excuse.
For those of you who voted for the son who said, “No,” but did go and work in the vineyard, is it possible that you raised your hand because you see a little bit of yourself in him, because you know that you haven’t always started well, but you try to finish well? Maybe you strayed away from God and the church as a teenager or young adult – maybe you’re struggling with a certain sin right now – but you want to hold out hope that if you can just turn things around and end on the right note, then everything will be OK, i.e. then the sins of your past can stay in your past – or that the struggles of your present can someday be forgotten.
Well, I don’t want to dash all your hopes – because there is hope for everyone – but finishing your story well, doesn’t change how you started. Fixing your life now doesn’t fix what you’ve done in the past. Making good choices in the future, won’t delete your bad choices from the past. God does not sweep sins under the rug or wink at youthful indiscretions. He condemns sin and the sinners who commit them.
For those of you who voted for the son who said, “Yes,” but did not go and work in the vineyard, is it possible that you raised your hands because you see yourself in him? You have always tried to do things right from the very beginning. You wouldn’t dream of stooping so low as to dabble with drugs or lose yourself in alcohol. You make every effort to go to church as often as you possibly can. Your friends and neighbours would consider you a good man or woman. But you know what you do and what you don’t do when the light’s not shining on you. You know your secret sins. You know when you’re just giving lip service to your God and your church family, and you’d like to believe that saying the right thing will make up for you not doing the right thing.
But this is the whole point of Jesus’ parable: both sons were wrong. And all of us are too. And so it doesn’t matter which version or variant reading is correct. It doesn’t matter how you answer the question. The meaning and purpose of Jesus’ question is the same either way.
Jesus asked this question of the chief priests knowing that whichever son they chose, their answer would be wrong, but not nearly as wrong as their own reality. Because the chief priests weren’t really like either of the sons. They were neither the “yes-no” nor the “no-yes” son. They were “no-no” sons. They disrespected God by rejecting his one and only Son and they never repented for it, which is why Jesus says to them, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you.”[2]
With this parable, Jesus held up the mirror of the Law to their souls and revealed death and damnation to them. This is about as harsh as Jesus ever gets.
But the thing about Jesus is that even in his sternest condemnation, there is still a glimmer of grace. Did you notice that Jesus didn’t close the door to heaven on the noses of those Jewish leaders? The door was still open to them. There was still time for them to repent.
And think about the love that it takes for Jesus to say these words to them, especially when he does. Jesus told this parable on the Tuesday of Holy Week. These very chief priests were going to arrest Jesus, put him on trial and sentence him to death in three days, but Jesus still took the time on Tuesday to call them to repentance, so that they could still receive the forgiveness that he was going to win for them on Friday.
So, as much as Jesus tells this parable to hold up the mirror of God’s law to our hearts and reveal us as “yes-no,” “no-yes,” or “no-no” sons, there’s really a fourth son that this parable is all about and he’s the one telling it. This parable is all about Jesus, God’s one and only “yes-yes” son.
Jesus is the only one who has ever said, “I will, Lord,” and then done it without fail every time for you. It was his perfect life of obedience from day one that made his death on Good Friday mean something for you. When Jesus’ hung on the cross of these chief priests’ making, he did so as your perfect substitute, taking your place and your punishment for your sin. For the times that you strayed away from God, he remained faithful to you from first to last. For the times that you said the right things but failed to follow through, Jesus loved you to the point of death, giving his life so that you could live forgiven and free from your sin.
Jesus is the perfect “yes-yes” son for you. And he tells this parable to you so that you don’t make the same mistake that these chief priests did, i.e. so that you can hear the grace of God and respond with repentance, so that whether it’s on a Sunday morning at the start of a worship service or on a Tuesday afternoon after you’ve just caught yourself in a lie, you can hit your knees and confess your sin and know that God has forgiven you in Jesus. Jesus tells you this parable so that you can know that no matter how many bad things you’ve done – or how bad they were – there is grace for the greedy and the gross, like tax collectors and prostitutes, which means there’s grace for you too.
Just don’t be like those “no-no” chief priests. Don’t be complacent in your sin. Don’t hide behind the appearance of self-righteousness. Don’t imagine that you are better than anyone else. Don’t pretend that you don’t need God’s grace. Believe me, believer, you do! And you don’t want to wait for the Last Day to find out.
But that’s the good news. God gives you his grace in Jesus. So, whether you struggle with self-control or self-righteousness, whether your sin is insincerity or indifference, when you repent and believe in Jesus as your substitute and Savior, you receive his grace and forgiveness forever.
That’s the beauty of this passage – and the reliability of Scripture – regardless of which version you read, regardless of how you answer Jesus’ question, his answer to your sin is always the same – full and free forgiveness to everyone who believes in his name, including you. So repent and believe – be real, with yourself and with your God – and you will enter the kingdom of God with those tax collectors and prostitutes… and pastors and mechanics and teachers and car salesmen and refugees and retirees because of Jesus, God’s one and only “yes-yes” Son for you. Amen.
[1] Matthew 21:31
[2] Matthew 21:31