Jesu Juva
St. Matthew 21:23-32
October 1, 2023
Proper
21A
Dear saints of our Savior~
There are two very different scenes in today’s Holy Gospel. In scene one, Jesus is getting jaw-boned by the Jewish authorities yet again. They’re challenging Him, testing Him—looking for some way eliminate Him. As always, Jesus turns the tables on His attackers, and sends them away licking their wounds. And then, in scene two, Jesus tells a parable about two very different sons—each ordered into the vineyard by his father. I think there might be something more here than meets the ear. So, let’s dig a little deeper.
“By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” That was the question the Chief Priests and the elders posed to Jesus. They were challenging His authority. Who did Jesus think He was? He had just ridden into Jerusalem like some kind of Messiah—with palm branches and “hosannas” lining His path. From there He had marched into the temple as if He owned the place, turning the tables of the money changers, putting pigeons to flight, and referring to the temple as “His” house (which was supposed to be a house of prayer). Where did Jesus get the authority to do these things?
The word of the day is “authority.” We often confuse authority with power. You can exert your power—you can make a power play—even when you have no authority. But authority is always a matter of permission—permission granted by someone greater to say and do certain things. Legislators have authority. Judges have authority. Parents have authority. Police have authority.
Pastors, too, have authority. It’s indicated by the stole I wear. When I forgive sins in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, I do so in the stead, by the command, and under the authority of my Lord Jesus Christ. He has authorized me to absolve repentant sinners. He approves of it. He delights in it. He recognizes it. He stands behind it. He gives this special authority to forgive sins to the church; and when you called me to be your pastor, you authorized me to exercise that authority publicly on your behalf. Authority is a big deal.
For some time now in Matthew’s gospel, the religious superstars had noticed that their authority was slipping away. First it was John the Baptist who had drawn crowds of thousands. He had referred to the religious elites as a brood of vipers. And then Jesus came along. He taught the people as one who had authority in Himself. What’s more, Jesus demonstrated His authority—healing the sick, casting out demons, stilling storms, walking on water, raising the dead. Only someone with authority from God could do such things.
By the time Palm Sunday rolled around, there was no one in Jerusalem who hadn’t heard about the astounding authority of Jesus. Today’s challenge to Jesus’ authority happened during holy week—just days before Jesus would die on the cross and rise again. It was late in the season—almost time for the playoffs. Jesus’ authority had been on the table for nearly three years, going back to when He was baptized by John, and the Spirit descended, and the Father declared, “This is my beloved Son with whom I am well pleased.” Authority granted.
But the religious establishment would have none of it. As the authority of Jesus increased, their authority shriveled and shrank down to nothing. Their questioning of Jesus’ authority was a last ditch attempt to trap Him—to make Him stumble—to make Him say something that could and would be used against Him in a kangaroo court. As usual, Jesus turned the tables on them, requiring them to give a “thumbs up” or a “thumbs down” on the baptizing John had done. It was a question they couldn’t and wouldn’t answer. Like so many politicians, they had “no comment.” And their authority sank to new levels of shrinkage.
There’s no middle ground where the authority of Jesus is concerned. Either He is the Son of God or He isn’t. Either His Word is the truth or it isn’t. Either all authority in heaven and earth has been given to Him or it hasn’t. And you would think that, among baptized believers, the authority of Jesus would not be up for debate. After all, we recognize His authority. We honor His authority—at least when it suits us, and when it agrees with our savvy sensibilities.
The truth is that our sinful nature delights in chipping away at the authority of Jesus—carving out a few exceptions to the Law—looking for loopholes which will allow us to live as we please—to subtly shrink the authority of Jesus down to a more manageable size.
Consider the two sons in the parable Jesus told. Sons are always under the authority of their fathers. Fathers (and mothers) have authority from God—enshrined in the Ten Commandments.
The father in the parable gave both of his sons the same command: Son, go and work in the vineyard today. Son number one said, “No, I will not.” But
afterward he changed his mind and went to work. He eventually did what his father requested. But son number two—he does the exact opposite of his brother. When he’s told to work in the vineyard, he responds with a pious-sounding, fourth-commandment-keeping, “I go, sir.” But, actually, in reality, he did not go. And he did not work.
What do you think? Jesus asks. Which of the two did the will of his father? Which son respected and delighted in the authority of his father? And to those questions I’m going to add another: Which son are you?
I think that’s a fair question. For God Himself has claimed you as His own dear son or daughter in Holy Baptism. With that water and the Word the Holy Trinity placed you beneath His holy authority. God adopted you into His family. He promised you an amazing, heavenly inheritance; and He bids you go and work. Go and love God above all other things. Go and love your neighbor as yourself. Repent of your sins and believe the good news. Those are your marching orders. Now get to work.
Like the sons in the parable, we can either live under the authority of God, or we look to evade that authority. Sometimes we are openly rebellious against God’s authority. God says, “Go and work,” and we say, “No.” God says, “Go and lead a sexually pure and decent life in what you say and do,” and we say, “No.” God says, “Be content with what you have,” and we say, “No.” God tells husbands and wives to love and honor each other—tells children to obey their parents—invites us to forgive others as we are forgiven—asks us to return to Him a first-fruit percentage of all our income. And all of us, from the greatest to the least, have said, “No. I will not.” And for that there is hell to pay.
At other times we are twins with the second son—the son who said, “I will, sir,” but did not go. He said the right thing. He talked the talk. He outwardly acknowledged his father’s authority. We’re very good at that too. But then we start thinking about what we’re supposed to do. We study. We reflect. We ponder and procrastinate. We deliberate. But as day turns to night, we realize that we haven’t gone and done what the Father has asked of us. No change. No repentance. No obedience. Just the same old lukewarm lip service to our Father in heaven. And for that there is hell to pay.
What do you think? I think both sons need God’s Son. For when the Father surveyed this world of rebels and hypocrites and disobedient children, He asked, “Who? Who will go and buy them back? Who will pay the awful price? Who will bear the bloody cross? And His one and only Son said, “I will, sir.” And He went and did it.
God’s Son set aside His royal robes, rolled up His sleeves, and put on the uniform of a servant. He humbled Himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross. The hard work of this Son counts for every wayward son and daughter. He labors, He toils, He works Himself to death on the cross, bearing the sin of the world. And by faith you get all the credit. His blood has the power to cleanse every sinful son and daughter. And by His Holy Spirit He gives repentance to every rebel, and hope for every hypocrite.
What do you think? I think this sounds like good news. From the cross our Lord said, “It is finished.” At that moment, the sins of the world had been taken away. At that moment, the road to heaven was blasted wide open for rebels and hypocrites and tax collectors and prostitutes and sinful sons and daughters, including you and me—all who confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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