flags inside a vineyard

When the Tenants Turn Out to Be Us

This parable comes at the end of 4— 5 parables and a gathering confrontation between Jesus and the powers that be. He enters Jerusalem as a king, but on a donkey (Matthew 21:1–11), revealing a kingdom that cannot be co-opted. He challenges corruption in the temple (Matthew 21:12–17), exposes a society that bears no fruit (Matthew 21:18–22), and tells stories that uncover the emptiness of promised obedience and outward piety (Matthew 21:28–32). As the story grows, Jesus makes clearer who he is—and the leaders become more determined to resist him (Matthew 21:23–27, 33–46).

He confronts corruption, cleansing the temple with a whip.

He withers a fig tree, exposing society’s fruitlessness.



then

Today’s story, the Parable of the Tenants, he brings this series of confrontations to its climax.
In this story, in short form, the metaphor is that God sends servants, and they are rejected. God sends his Son, and they kill him.

all well and good

 Then the penny drops for the leaders as they realise.

The leaders realise that, in this story, Jesus is speaking about them and has been challenging them in every way possible.

I think our leaders today still haven’t worked out the implications of this narrative.
For instance, many still try to co‑opt Jesus for their own agendas — political, national, cultural. But everyone knows, deep down, that he doesn’t belong to any nation.

That his kingdom runs on values so radically different from ours that trying to fold his example into our systems is almost absurd.
But back to today’s story, so they have these things, then today they realise he’s on about them; they really don’t like it and 

At that point, Jesus ‘ fate is sealed

But for us today, that narrative is comfortable, divorced. distant

The pattern is complete.  Nice story about bad religious leaders

Listening today, we may inwardly breathe a sigh of relief: “Phew—it isn’t us this is about.”  He’s having a go at the leaders of his day, and maybe by implication today’s leaders, but 100% not us.

SO WE CAN ALL BREATHE A SIGH OF RELIEF THEN,  NICE Sermon awaits where we say it’s the bad leaders, in Jesus time  persecuting the Son

I say  in the context of its day that’s true; however, that’s far too simple. As colin Gunton a famous theologian from Brentwood in Essex, once said, when he was talking  about atonement theories but not least apposite  here , he said the problem with metaphors is that sooner or later they break down


Because that version of events puts the problem solely on the leaders’ heads, That’s far too simplistic, a dumping of all the wrongs in the story onto one section of society. It makes the tenants only those particular leaders in that particular time and lets everyone else stand safely outside the story.

But the tenants make one fatal mistake: they forget the landowner. As the story says, “Then he leased it to tenants and went to another country.”

That is the point at which the story turns towards us. If we say the tenants are simply the bad leaders of Jesus’ day.

But when thinking about this we have to remember the bible is a book of universal truths.  If that’s the case maybe be another question to ask might be

What if the tenants are us  , could the tenants be us?  Then if we go down THAT path . we have to ask, What kind of tenants are we?

How often do we (the tenants) feel that our world is actually leased to us? I think we forget that a lot. As soon as you ask, who are the tenants today? This parable asks us tenants lots of hard questions.

See, God gave us everything we need in his vineyard; he planted it, he made it able to bear fruit. He even put a fence round it . The fence represents God’s protection, God’s provision, and God’s intentional care — everything the tenants needed to succeed.

But if the tenants in this story isn’t just the pharisees , its us  we have to own up

We have made a mess of his vineyard, squabbled over who runs it, even worse, squabbled over who owns this little clump of trees over that clump, so split the vineyard into lots that it was never meant to be, planted flags over one little set of trees in the vineyard,  don’t even get me started about putting a flag on one tree or a  lamp post oh and if other areas do less well, we let them go hungry while the vineyard has more than enough for all.

And heaven forbid that people should arrive by boat seeking a place in this part of the vineyard: suddenly we insist that our dozen trees must be protected.  

But the vineyard was leased to us; it is not ours, whether we were born in this patch or that one. If the vineyard belongs to the one who planted it and remains under his care, then treating one patch as ours alone makes no sense. For one simple reason
 ‘Cause it’s NOT OURS.  To act otherwise is to show that, in our hearts, we have forgotten the landowner. We think we own the land.  We, in some place in our hearts, haven’t really come to terms with the fact that we lease this from him. It’s his, not ours.





Then of course it asks us the very same questions that it did jesus listeners

What do we, as tenants rather than owners, make of the Son? Do we truly receive him as God’s Son? Do we welcome his teaching, ignore it, or resist it when it challenges our view of our world and  whos in charge , and what are the implications of that fact?

Because here we are, standing in the vineyard of God’s world, listening to a story Jesus told to leaders who thought they owned what was only ever entrusted. They thought they were the arbiters of right and wrong, worthy and unworthy , clean and unclean, and Jesus rewrote that narrative and reminded us it’s not ours; no patch of this place is ours.  We are and always will be loved tenants

And then far  from a Phew glad that’s not about us , it really jabs and asks us hard questions

What kind of tenants are we?

Are we the tenants God wants, sharing his vineyard for all, knowing our place in the story. Or have we forgotten who it belongs to, acting like the vineyard is ours, by treating His world, His people, His creation as if we are the owners and He is the guest,  are we treating all those he loves as he would want us to?

See, Jesus parables are always movable feasts; read properly, they should always ask us hard questions about how we should act today. This one is no different.

Jesus’ story leaves us with a choice.  Every Christian has to reconcile everything they do with this choice

Do we welcome the Son? Or do we push Him out of the vineyard?

Do we listen to His voice, or do we silence it because it challenges our comfort, our politics, our priorities, our sense of ownership?

Do we see ourselves as tenants — entrusted, protected, provided for — or as owners who think the vineyard or this patch belongs to us?

Because if the vineyard is His, and the world is His, and the people are His, and the future is His, then our job is simple:

Produce fruit. Welcome the Son. Remember the landowner. Live like tenants, Love all the other tenants , remember they are no more no less also tenants of the landowner, and do not act like owners.

And perhaps this is the decision before us today:

To stop defending our little patch of trees. To stop pretending the vineyard is ours. To stop resisting the messenger. To stop ignoring the Son.

And to say — perhaps for the first time in a long time:

“Lord, this vineyard is Yours. Make me a faithful tenant.”
Then truly realise and act on the implications of that.

That’s the moment this parable is asking us . That’s the invitation. That’s the decision.

if you recall, right at the beginning of this sermon I wrote that the Pharisees were happily listening  to this story
Then the penny drops for the leaders as they realise.

The leaders realise that, in this story, Jesus is speaking about them and has been challenging them in every way possible.

I know how they feel

So maybe not a phew moment, more a parable that only gets more uncomfortable over time. Because it’s still relevant today, I could walk out of this church and have this exact debate.

“See, the tenants’ greatest sin wasn’t violence — it was amnesia.

They forgot whose vineyard it was.”

Maybe we have too

Amen

Leave a comment