Luke 20:9-19

Amen. Well, Advent is quickly approaching, isn't it? The season of peace and goodwill to men, of stars and of gifts and of festive cheer, of the baby in the manger, gentle Jesus, meek and mild.

And as we approach Advent, as we think about the coming of the Lord Jesus as a baby, this passage that we've just read jolts us out of that a bit, doesn't it?

Because Jesus teaches here that his arrival marks not just Christmas cheer, but a crisis.

He comes as the light of the world, but it turns out that there is a dark side to Christmas.

When the light comes, he reveals a dark side in us.

And Jesus tells a parable in Luke 20, and he pictures the arrival of the son of a vineyard owner,

who comes to deal with a bunch of rebellious tenants on his land, doesn't he?

And when they recognise this son, they throw him out and they kill him.

So the owner rightly punishes them for that. He destroys them, and we think, good for him, that's the right thing to do.

Jesus tells this parable, and he directs this story towards the chief priests and the scribes, the religious leaders of the day.

Who have consistently sought to reject Jesus as Lord.

They are supposedly building God's kingdom as the kind of religious ministers of the day.

But the building is going to fall on top of them as they reject Jesus.

Jesus uses the language, doesn't he, of stones crushing people.

I was watching one of these DIY shows a while back,

and they were trying to create extra space on the ground floor.

You know, they wanted to kind of knock a wall through and create a kitchen diner.

But there was one problem, because there was this pillar in the way.

And the owner of the house wanted to get rid of the pillar,

so he could have this open plan dining area.

But the experts were saying, no, no, you can't touch this pillar.

It is a load-bearing pillar.

You can't move this pillar.

It's the cornerstone of the building.

You can't take it away.

But when they left for the night and the kind of cameras had gone away,

the amateur DIY enthusiast just took a sledgehammer and worked away at this pillar overnight.

And he removed it.

The next morning, the crew arrived to see the disaster that had ensued overnight,

because the whole house had collapsed in on the ground floor.

The upper floors had just fallen in.

And anything that was on the ground floor had been crushed.

Anything and everything was smashed into pieces.

Fortunately, he'd managed to get out of the house in time.

And Jesus says, doesn't he, in this parable, that he is like that pillar at Christmas time.

In verse 18, he quotes from Psalm 118.

The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone, the load-bearing pillar.

And everyone who falls on that stone will be broken to pieces.

And when it falls on anyone, it will crush him.

He says to the religious leaders, you're trying to get rid of me,

but your whole ministry is built on the cornerstone of my person.

The whole building of God's people is about me.

So he's talking about stones crushing people's heads.

He's talking about vineyard owners destroying tenants.

It doesn't feel like the typical Advent message, does it?

All this crushing and all this destroying of people.

It's a little bit less Jesus meek and mild,

and a little bit more harsh Jesus, mean and wild, isn't it?

As we hear Jesus rebuking these leaders,

we have to put ourselves in the picture as well.

He directs these warnings against them,

but Luke tells us, doesn't he, in verse 9,

that he tells the parable to all the people that are there.

And notice the words in verse 18.

Everyone and anyone who falls on this stone,

who tries to pull it out of the building,

will be crushed by it.

Everyone and anyone who tries to take a sledgehammer to Jesus,

and remove him from their lives,

should expect him to crush them.

And we hear this, don't we,

and we think, how can Jesus say these things?

What justifies this sort of harsh language of crushing,

and of destroying?

How dare Jesus say this to me?

That unless I accept him as Lord of my life,

as the prime pillar of my life,

and as the world,

the house will come down on me.

How dare he say that to me?

Well, the parable is told, I think,

and it's designed very cleverly, isn't it,

to help us to see why Jesus has got every right to say that

to these people here, and to me.

Jesus is justified in saying that to me,

in the same way that the vineyard owner

is justified in destroying the tenants in the parable.

The parable draws us in, doesn't it,

to agree with the vineyard owner,

and say, it is jolly well right that he destroys them for that.

It is right that he punishes the tenants

for mistreating the son that he sends to them.

The parable, it draws me out

to confess that I've got to agree with God

that it is right that Jesus should crush people

who reject him, even if that's me.

Look closely at verse 14,

because I think in verse 14 we see

why the judgments in the passage are justified.

Look at how they're behaving, these tenants.

Look at what they say, and what they think,

and how they behave.

Verse 14, they say to themselves,

this is the heir, let us kill him,

so the inheritance may be ours.

That behaviour, and that kind of motivation in them

is what justifies the terrible judgement

that Jesus pronounces on them, isn't it?

And I think we can see three things here.

Three things is their behaviour,

what they say, what they think, and what they do,

and it reflects a crazy, arrogant,

vile response to Jesus,

which in the end, we have to admit,

deserves justice.

First of all, the tenants deserve their fate,

because number one,

they know who Jesus is.

There is a recognition,

they know who Jesus is.

How is it that the tenants deserve to be destroyed?

It is because for people who've met Jesus,

particularly the religious leaders of the day,

in their heart of hearts,

they know who he really is.

They've met him, and they reject him,

and they're culpable for the knowledge

they have of him.

The more you know of him,

the more serious it is

not to treat him as he should be treated.

So look at the parable.

As the son comes to the vineyard,

they immediately recognise who he is,

don't they?

Verse 14.

Ah, this is the heir.

They know that there is something different about Jesus.

Jesus is not just another religious guy,

is he?

He's not a religious nutcase.

When you look at him properly in the gospel accounts,

it's not that he's another prophet,

or another servant of God,

of the vineyard.

No, he is infinitely more than that.

In the parable, did you see,

there's a sudden upgrade of status,

status with the people that the vineyard owner sends.

The authority is ramped up, isn't it?

As it goes from servants that are sent by the vineyard owner,

three times,

to suddenly the owner's son.

They've kicked out those with lesser authority,

but surely they'll receive the one with equal authority.

The heir,

the son,

surely they'll respect him,

the owner thinks.

The owner says,

I'll send my beloved son to them.

The word beloved is used in Luke's gospel,

Jesus' baptism, isn't it?

Where God calls out,

this is my beloved son.

With you I am well pleased,

he says.

If Jeremiah,

the prophet,

had been around,

he would have said the same thing

about the religious leaders of Jesus' day,

as he said in his day.

Jeremiah chapter 7,

Jeremiah 7 · chapter mention

from the day that your fathers

came out of the land of Egypt to this day,

I persistently sent all my servants to you,

my prophets to you,

day after day,

and yet you have not listened to them,

or inclined your ear to them.

You've been stiff-necked towards them.

But now it is worse than that,

isn't it?

Because Jesus is not a mere prophet.

He is not just a servant.

When we get to the New Testament,

we see that God has a son

who carries equal authority

and equal status with God.

The letter to the Hebrews begins,

long ago,

at many times,

and in many ways,

God spoke to our fathers

by the prophets,

but in these last days

he has spoken to us

by his son,

whom he appointed the heir of all things,

through whom he created the whole world,

the son is the one

who is sent with equal authority

and equal status

to the vineyard owner himself,

to God himself,

who Paul says,

all the fullness of deity

dwells in him bodily,

in Jesus Christ.

And so there is a shift of authority,

isn't there,

in the sending of prophets

and of servants.

And suddenly there is a sending of a son

and so with the shift in authority

and status

comes a shift in consequences,

in rejecting him.

You know,

if you bully my son's friends at school,

yeah,

that will make me unhappy,

that is one thing,

isn't it?

But if you bully my son,

that is something else.

If you reject my son,

that is something else.

And the religious leaders

and the chief priests

reject him,

not because they doubt

his credentials as this man,

but in their heart of hearts

they know who he is.

His teaching

and his miracles,

his words

and his works,

his logic

in dissecting their hypocrisy.

Yes,

this is the heir.

This is the son

of God.

And so he falls heaviest

on those who reject him

and know him most

for who he really is.

And in their heart of hearts

they know who he is,

don't they?

And so his judgment

is warranted on them.

They know who he is.

That's the first thing.

The second thing is that

they want to kill him.

It's the recognition

and it's the response

towards him,

isn't it?

They want to kill him.

Look at verse 14 again.

This is the heir.

Let us kill him,

they say to themselves.

It is the violence

of the response

to Jesus.

It's interesting in the passage.

Did you notice

as the parable

kind of builds up,

there is an increase

in authority

of the servants

that the owner

sends to the vineyard,

isn't there?

And suddenly

the status

and authority

ramps up

when the son

is sent.

But the response

is also ramped up

as the authority

increases.

The violence

and the hatred

towards those

who are sent

ramps up.

And the severity

of the response

ramps up,

doesn't it?

Suddenly,

when the heir,

the son,

is sent,

the violence

ramps up too.

You see,

with the previous

servants,

they are beaten

and they are humiliated,

which is awful.

But with the son,

it is murder.

True hostility

towards the vineyard owner

is exposed

when he is present.

When the son

appears.

In a much clearer

way than it was

before.

The violence

from the tenants

and the killing

and the peak

expression

of human rebellion

against God

is reserved

for the son.

He is the one

who uniquely

attracts

hidden rebellion

against God.

He is the one

who arouses

the rebellion

of the human heart

like nobody else

can and does.

That is what happens

in the nativity

narratives,

isn't it?

Just think of

Matthew's gospel.

What is the overwhelming

atmosphere in Bethlehem

just after Jesus

is born?

It is violence.

As Herod's

soldiers

ransack

every home

with a two

year old boy

or younger.

Herod goes

on the war

path.

Jesus comes

into the world

and the rebellion

of human hearts

rears its ugly

head,

doesn't it?

And Herod

baits for Jesus'

blood right

from the moment

he enters

into the world.

As the true

light comes

into the world,

not just those

who have spoken

about the light

before his

coming,

but as the

light himself

comes,

then the

darkness

tries to

resist him

most of all.

And so when

Jesus is killed

at his crucifixion,

when the vineyard

owners do

crucify him,

he doesn't just

die as a

co-victim

with other

human beings.

There is a

sense that he

does that,

but it is much

more than that.

It's not that

he just faces

the general

wickedness

of the world

that we all

experience and

share.

He doesn't

just fall

victim to

the same

frustrations

exactly,

and the same

evils that we

all suffer

universally in

this world.

No,

he dies

as the

victim

of all

evil and

rebellion in

the world.

God.

He dies

as the

lightning rod

of all

of humanity's

hatred

towards God.

He dies

and he

suffers like

no one else

suffers and

dies.

He is

murdered and

he is murdered

as the most

hated man

ever.

He is more

hated than

anyone has

been.

Because he

is the

son.

he is the

heir.

He is the

one, isn't

he, who

threatens our

pride most.

He is the

one who

threatens our

sense of

entitlement

most.

He is the

one who

threatens our

delusions of

grandeur most.

so he is

justified in

his judgment

because they

know who

he is and

they want to

kill him.

And thirdly,

they want what

belongs to

him, don't

they?

There is

violence and

there is a

vanity about

the vineyard

tenants.

And those two

things are

connected.

There is

violence because

there is this

vain ambition

of what they

might get by

killing him.

In verse 14,

let's kill

him so that

the inheritance

may be ours.

And it is

ridiculous really,

isn't it, what

they are trying

to do.

What drives the

religious leaders

of the day to

murder Jesus is

this fantasy that

they have that

if they can get

rid of Jesus,

if they can get

rid of the

heir and the

son of God

and the king

of the kingdom,

they can carry

on being the

most important

people in their

lives and in

the kingdom that

they have

set up around

themselves.

They can be the

most important

people in the

vineyard.

And life can

go on as

before.

They can be

the ones with

the crowns on

their head that

he should have

on his head.

And that

thirst for power

makes them

utterly stupid,

doesn't it?

As if they

could do that.

In their

culture, often

vineyards and

plots of land

would have been

letted out to

tenants just

like in the

parable and

the owner may

have been at

a bit of a

distance and

actually Jesus

says that,

doesn't he?

The owner went

to be in

another country

for a long

time in verse

nine.

And so there

is this feeling

isn't there of

distance from

accountability,

distance from

culpability for

what they are

doing to the

servants and to

the son.

they maybe have

this fantasy,

don't they,

that the

vineyard owner

won't find out,

the vineyard owner

can't see and he

doesn't care what

we're doing and

he'll forget about

the vineyard and

he'll just leave it

to us if we can

get rid of Jesus.

But of course

that's totally

ridiculous,

isn't it?

And as we

listen to the

parable, we know

that just cannot

happen because

they've killed

the son.

And of course

the vineyard owner

is going to do

something about

that, isn't he?

But isn't that

the arrogant myth

that we tend to

believe that is

a kind of truth?

That we can keep

our agenda and

still get rid of

Jesus, that we

can pull out the

cornerstone and

we can still rule

in God's house.

And that somehow

he'll forget about

that.

That he'll just

let us inherit

the earth anyway.

And that he's not

bothered about his

son.

That if we kill

him off, life

will go on as

before.

But that is

ridiculous, isn't

it?

Because in our

heart of hearts,

when we spend any

time with the

Lord Jesus, we

know who he is.

And we know

how he threatens

our pride because

his authority is

the same authority

as God himself.

That he comes

into the world as

God, claiming what

is his.

As the owner of

the vineyard.

He is the

beloved son, as

John says in that

famous verse.

He is God's one

and only son.

The one in whom

he is well

pleased.

And so it is

ridiculous, isn't

it?

That we think that

we can pull him

out and that we

can kill him off

and just carry on

as before.

It's interesting,

in the Hebrew

language, the

word stone and

the word son is

very, very similar

actually.

The word stone is

the word eben.

It's an awful

pronunciation, but

eben.

And the word son

is ben.

Very similar,

aren't they?

Stone and son.

Apparently in the

siege of Jerusalem

in 70 AD, that

the Romans

surrounded the

city, didn't

they?

History tells us.

And they sieged

Jerusalem and

they would hurl

these great big

stones over the

wall to kind of

get the people

to just surrender.

And as they

hurled these

stones over,

they would

shout, the

sun is coming.

Strange.

I think they

saw the link

between stone and

sun.

I don't know

why they did it,

but maybe that's

why.

They would

shout that out,

ho, hyorios,

er-h-tai, the

sun is coming.

Get your heads

down.

And that is the

jolt of this

parable, isn't it,

for us in

Advent.

It's another side

of Advent, that

as Jesus comes,

it is as if God

is hurling a

stone over the

wall into the

world.

And that as

the light of the

world comes, it

reveals a dark

side in us.

that the sun is

flung over the

walls into our

lives and

everyone and

anyone who

rejects him

will be crushed

by him.

Let me close

just by looking

at that second

passage in Acts.

Let's just look

there.

In Acts, it's

kind of the

sequel to Luke's

gospel, isn't

it?

So Luke

writes Acts.

And in Acts

4, there's a

really similar

scene.

as Peter,

Jesus'

apostle,

continues Jesus'

ministry in a

way, doesn't

he?

And he's there

facing off against

the same religious

leaders that Jesus

rebuked in Acts

4.

There's been a

lame beggar that's

just been healed

and they're

questioning them

about how they've

done that and

under whose

authority they've

done that.

And if you look

at verse 10,

he says,

let it be known

to you that it's

by the name of

Jesus Christ of

Nazareth, whom

you crucified,

but whom God

raised from the

dead, that this

man stands before

you now.

And right after

that, doesn't

he, he quotes

the same verse

from Psalm

118 that Jesus

quotes back in

Luke 20.

Do you see?

Jesus is the

stone that

was rejected

by you, the

builders, which

has become the

cornerstone.

His point in

Acts 4 is that

after the

resurrection of

Jesus, it has

now become

abundantly obvious

and clear that

those who have

rejected and did

reject Jesus have

made a massive

mistake.

The rejected

stone has

been proven to

be the

cornerstone on

which all of

God's kingdom is

built.

And so it's an

indictment upon

them, isn't it,

that they've

recognised him and

responded in

violence and in

vain arrogance,

and they have

killed the

cornerstone.

And they realise

that now.

But the amazing

thing about Peter's

sermon here is

that instead of

preaching judgment,

and talking about

crushing and

destroying, he

offers another

lifeline, doesn't

he?

Because he says

in verse 12,

salvation, not

judgment, salvation

is found in no one

else, for there is

no other name under

heaven given to

mankind by which

we must be saved.

salvation.

And this is the

wonderful irony, isn't

it, of God's

grace.

Actually, Christmas

and Advent

shout to us the

wonder of God's

grace.

And Peter

shouts here of

God's grace to

men and women who

have killed the

cornerstone, who

deserve for him to

fall on their

heads.

Christ, the

one they have

killed is the

one who now

offers them

life.

The one they

have oppressed

is the one who

now offers them

freedom.

Freedom from the

guilt of what

they've done.

He gives life to

the dead, the

very people who

have killed him.

That is grace,

isn't it?

that the one

that you can go

to for life is

the very one that

we have killed.

And the one that

we can go to for

in our darkness is

the light that we've

resisted.

And that is the

wonder of

Advent.

That is the

wonder of God's

grace.

Let's pray.

Amen.