Luke 20:9-18 "The Vineyard"
When I graduated from college, Kim still had one more year to go. We had been living in student housing for married couples on my school campus so we needed to find a new place. I had the brilliant idea to buy a used mobile home—that way we could sell it when we were ready to move and get a little money back rather than just pouring it down the drain in rent. We found a pretty nice one for about $5,000—life was good.
About a year and a half later we put it up for sale so we could move to Texas. We probably didn’t know what we were doing but we had trouble selling it. As the day got closer to when we were going to move, we got a little desperate. A young couple answered our ad, they were newly finished with serving in the military and were signed up for classes at Southern Missouri State University—which is where Kim went to school. They said they were waiting for their veteran’s benefits to come through and wanted to rent from us for a couple months, then they’d pay the full amount. They seemed like reliable people. I’m a nice guy. Why not?
So, I’m 23 years old and I become a landlord. Land. Lord! Sounds a lot more noble than being a noob who let a couple of strangers move into his trailer house, doesn’t it?
We headed off to Houston with a couple hundred dollars to our name and hope for the best.
Rent comes due the next month, they say they’re real sorry but it’s going to be late.
Next month, same thing. Three months in they have a problem with the furnace and say they had to spend all the rent money to fix it.
We never saw a dime. We were a thousand miles away and felt very helpless.
I wrote a letter and told our tenants to vacate the property, I gave them 30 days.
But that’s not what they heard. They heard, “Hey, remember me? The naive guy from Gullible’s Travels? Would you do me a favor and completely trash the house you’re renting from me? Like, maybe get three or four large dogs and just lock them up inside—really let them get in there and mess it up in the way only dogs can. Also, could you, you know, break the windows, punch holes in the doors and walls—have a really good time. Take all the frustrations of your sad, pathetic life out on me and our little mobile home.”
I might as well have said that because when I finally saw the condition they left our house in, the only thing we could do is pay to have it hauled away for scrap metal.
I had a pretty short and very unsuccessful reign as a landlord.
Today, Jesus is going to tell a story about how God feels pretty much the same way about the tenants He has taking care of the temple in Jerusalem.
We pick up at Luke chapter nine in the middle of a very tense, dramatic scene. It’s where we left off last week—all the bigwig religious leaders showed up like security to ask Jesus who gave Him the right to clear out the temple and set up a teaching symposium. Jesus answered them with a question—pointing to what they already knew—His authority came from the same place John the Baptist got his authority. His authority came from God Himself.
So, all the religious big dogs were still standing there shell shocked. Jesus is through with them, He turns away and addresses the people—a courtyard full of travelers who had come to Jerusalem for Passover—they were hanging on His every word.
And he began to tell the people this parable: “A man planted a vineyard and let it out to tenants and went into another country for a long while. Luke 20:9
This is a reference to a parable in Isaiah chapter five. Just like in that one, the vineyard is the people of God, planted and cared for by God Himself—but they did not yield good fruit. The grapes were wild and wicked. The people listening knew the Scriptures, they would have all got the reference.
So, picking up on Isaiah’s vineyard idea—Jesus makes it about the Old Testament—about God establishing His people. How He cared for them, cleared the way for them, protected them…
When the time came, he sent a servant to the tenants, so that they would give him some of the fruit of the vineyard. But the tenants beat him and sent him away empty-handed. And he sent another servant. But they also beat and treated him shamefully, and sent him away empty-handed. And he sent yet a third. This one also they wounded and cast out. Luke 20:10-12
I’m probably glad I never showed up in person to confront my renters. Mauled by dogs is not a story I ever want to be able to tell firsthand.
This is a reference to God sending prophets to His people—to knock on the door, maybe knock on their heads, remind them of what they were supposed to be doing. Prophets show and say, “You people producing any good fruit?” Lots of prophets over the years, pretty much always the same message. Micah 6:8 is a pretty good summary of what they said,
“You have been told, O mortal, what is good, and what the Lord requires of you: Only to do justice and to love goodness, and to walk humbly with your God.”
But that’s never what they found, they always found the opposite: Wickedness, selfishness, pride, no one caring about doing what’s right or good.
I mean, that’s the Old Testament in a nutshell. God calls and saves His people, tells them what He wants them to do with these nice new lives He’s given them and they trash the place, look out for their selfish interests, and fight with everyone.
It’s like when our kids were little and we’d leave them to play together in the spare bedroom, which we called the “toy room.” “You guys be good, share your toys, do not murder each other.” They’d be fine for a while, then I’d start to hear the sound that let me know something terrible was about to happen. You know what sound I mean, right? Laughter. It’d start small—a happy little giggle. But it would get louder. And louder. And more criminally insane. Kim and I would look at each other with unspoken understanding, “Wait for it…”
There might be a crash, or a thud, or a fiery explosion that shakes the foundation of the house—and then the yelling, screaming, or crying would start. We’d run to the room to check out the carnage—see which one of them was bleeding out. Open the door and they’d stop mid-murder — both ready to throw the other under the bus. Pointing their fingers at each other like traffic cops. Arguing their defense like Saul Goodman. It was always the other person’s fault.
So, I’d quiet them down and ask whichever one seemed the most upset, “What did you do to case this problem? What part did you play?”
They never wanted to answer that question. They wanted to tell me what the other person did but that’s not what I asked. “They’ll get the chance to tell me what they did wrong in a minute, I want to know what you did.” If that didn’t get anywhere, I’d ask, “What are they going to tell me you did wrong?” A little psychological torture never hurt anyone.
I was trying to teach them humility. Confession. Taking responsibility for their own actions instead of automatically blaming someone else.
That’s the same thing God sent the prophets to do. But time and time again, over and over, the people didn’t listen and pointed the blame at the prophets instead. The people mistreated and even murdered them. Isaiah, the prophet who originally told the parable of the vineyard to king Manassah, Isaiah was put inside a hollow log and sawed in two. It was like the old magicians trick except there was no trick.
God had sent John the Baptist, the last Old Testament prophet, and they killed him, too.
Then the owner of the vineyard said, ‘What shall I do? I will send my beloved son; perhaps they will respect him.’ Luke 20:13
Owner of the vineyard is wondering what to do. He had sent letters. He had sent prophets. Draughts, famines, Babylonians, Persians, Romans. Nothing had worked, the tenants wouldn’t listen—they violently wouldn’t listen. Very stubborn tenants.
So, imagine that you’re standing there listening to this story. You know the vineyard is a reference to Israel and the people of God—you know it’s a story accusing the religious leaders in charge of Jerusalem and the temple of great unfaithfulness and terrible crimes. And then Jesus turns up the dramatic tension even more, He references the question about John the Baptist’s authority. Remember when Jesus was baptized by John, how God the Father spoke from heaven and said, “This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased, listen to Him.”
They all knew that story, too.
All of a sudden, Jesus’ vineyard story gets very personal. “You guys have failed God so many times, He’s at His wits end—what else can He do? Here’s what He’s going to do: He’s going to send His beloved Son. Me. He sent me. Are you going to respect me?”
But when the tenants saw him, they said to themselves, ‘This is the heir. Let us kill him, so that the inheritance may be ours.’ And they threw him out of the vineyard and killed him. Luke 20:14-15
Obviously they’re idiots, right? Kill the heir and the vineyard will be all theirs! They think if they kill the Son of God things will stay the way they are. They can keep their jobs and their power.
No. Now it’s a prophecy. Jesus is telling the people what their religious leaders are going to do—what they’re already secretly planning. And it’s a very specific prophecy. They’re going to kill the Son of God who is threatening to evict them. And they’re going to kill Him outside the vineyard—outside Jerusalem. Which is what happened: Jesus was crucified just outside the city on a hill called Golgotha.
But it’s not going to work out the way they hoped.
What then will the owner of the vineyard do to them? He will come and destroy those tenants and give the vineyard to others.” When they heard this, they said, “Surely not!” Luke 20:15-16
I mean, what did they think was going to happen? The owner of the vineyard would just give up? Be like, “Oh, well. You killed my son, I guess you can keep the vineyard.”
So, Jesus is taking the prophecy further. God is going to destroy Jerusalem and give it to someone else. This has layers of meaning.
In 70 AD the Romans destroyed Jerusalem and the temple. Six hundred years later, Muslims would build a mosque and the Dome of the Rock over the top of the temple mount. So there’s one obvious layer. The land where the vineyard was planted was given to someone else.
But more importantly, the Old Testament, the Old Covenant, passed away. It was fulfilled in Christ with His death and resurrection and ascension. The temple in Jerusalem has nothing to do with how God saves His people now. Jesus was the final sacrifice—the temple as the religious leaders, priests, scribes, all of the Jewish people understood it—the temple as the center of God’s activity in the world—that temple was finished. Jesus is the new temple—it’s not a place, it’s a person. And in a great mystery, all the people of God are only the people of God if they are in Christ (that new temple). And if they are in Christ, then He is in them, and—here’s the really mysterious part—when His people come together in worship, when they gather in Christ’s name, because they’re connected to Him, they’re also the new temple of God. You. Me. We’re the temple of the Holy Spirit—the special presence of God on the earth.
I know, it’s trippy. Sometimes people say, “I don’t have to go to church to be a Christian.” That’s a gross misunderstanding of all these things. You don’t “go” to church—you gather as the church. You can’t gather as the church by yourself. I’m going to have to say a lot more about this but it’ll have to wait for another time—today we’re talking about the parable of the vineyard.
Jesus said God was going to give the vineyard to others.
We’re the ones He gave the vineyard to. The church. We’re the ones responsible to bear good fruit now. Which still includes all that fruit the Old Testament prophets were looking for,
“What is good, and what the Lord requires of you: to do justice and to love goodness, and to walk humbly with your God.” Micah 6:8
But it also includes the fruit St Paul talks about in Galatians 5:22,
“Love, joy, peace, forbearance (which is patience), kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.”
All of which Jesus says can be summed up in “love.” Love God, love others. Worship God, love people.
Those are supposed to be the “fruit” of this vineyard God has given us. The vineyard is a gift—we didn’t earn it—but we are supposed to work it. And all of our work is supposed to look like love.
But not “love” like the love songs. Not “love” like we see in most movies and TV shows. Not the way we Americans usually understand “love.” It’s not for us. The fruit is not for us. We don’t just love people as long as it makes us happy. As long as we get something out of it. It’s not for us at all. Love is always for other people.
Your job, as you work this vineyard God has given you, is to love people. The people in your house. The people on your street. The people in your church. The people on social media. Even the people in all those shiny metal boxes on the freeway.
That’s supposed to be the fruit of your labors. That’s your calling. Your vocation. Your job is to do whatever you can to share the fruit of the vineyard with them. What does that look like? It looks like sharing joy with them—giving them joy. Being a peacemaker, sharing peace with people in your life. Showing people patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness. Love isn’t self-indulgence, it’s self-control. What does self-control look like with your kids? With your spouse? With your friends. At school? At work? Online?
These things are the fruit of working in the life God has given you. You have been saved by grace, not by works—that’s the Gospel. That’s what Jesus did for you that you could never have done for yourself. But that’s just the beginning. He saved you to do amazing things, and all of those things look like love. And love always looks like the fruit the prophets talked about—what God is looking for His people to do.
Another way of looking at all this is these things are the fruit of repentance—the fruit of humility. Pride is the opposite of repentance. Walking humbly with our God requires daily repentance. “Forgive us our tresspasses as we forgive those who trespass against us” Jesus knew we were going to have to pray that every day. Repentance is turning away from our selfishness and pride. Away from our sin. And turning toward God. But the truth is, He’s the one calling us to repent. He’s the one “repenting” us. We can be stupid and fight it but it’s always His idea. It’s the kindness of the Lord that leads us to repentance.
It’s a lie and a trick of the devil when we start thinking that we’ve sinned too much, too many times, our sins are too terrible, God’s probably tired of us coming back to Him sorry for the same old things. That’s a lie. God is infinitely more patient with you than you will ever be with yourself. He calls you to repent and when you do, He always has the same answer, “You are forgiven because of Jesus.” Every time. Repent and believe it. There is no condemnation for you because you are in Christ Jesus.
So, Jesus is telling this story about how the religious leaders and so many of the Jewish people were rejecting Him—the beloved Son of God who was sent to save them from their wickedness. He ends the story by saying the tenants were going to kill Him and the vineyard was going to be taken away from them and given to someone else. The people were incredulous, “Surely not! Say it ain’t so!”
Jesus looks at them, the look says it all, they know what He’s saying is true. He quotes from Psalm 118, the same song they were singing when He rode in on the donkey.
But he looked directly at them and said, “What then is this that is written: “ ‘The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone’? Everyone who falls on that stone will be broken to pieces, and when it falls on anyone, it will crush him.” Luke 20:17-18
He’s like, “You knew that Psalm was about the Messiah, what did you think that line about the cornerstone meant?”
We’ve all heard about the Cornerstone. We even sang about it earlier.
The cornerstone is the stone laid on the foundation, in the corner, that will establish the integrity of the walls. It sets the direction for the building. All the other stones will be set in reference to this stone—everything else is aligned to the cornerstone.
Sometimes people forget that Jesus grew up the son of a builder—He knew all about cornerstones.
So, the stone that the builders rejected becomes the most important stone. Obviously a reference to how the religious elite, the ones in charge of the Jewish temple, had rejected Jesus as the Messiah. The cornerstone of God’s plan of salvation.
An entirely new temple is being constructed—Jesus is the Cornerstone of that new temple. All the other living stones will be in relation to Him. He is the standard. He is the beginning of the great spiritual temple of God, the New Covenant.
And here’s the deal: either align to Him or be crushed and cast aside. Either orient your life to Christ when He calls you to repent, or His judgment will fall on you and grind you to powder. Everyone is either going to be broken or crushed—those are the only two options. Repent and believe, or try to stand before God in your prideful unbelief and rebellion. Like the wicked tenants of the vineyard, like the religious leaders. Like fools. Stubbornly resisting the cornerstone is like refusing to stop for a freight train. You either hit those brakes or you will be obliterated. To hear the Word of the Lord and repent is to fall on the cornerstone and be broken—broken and remade in alignment to what God is building in your life.
I wonder… What are the areas of your life that need to be brought into alignment? Bring those things to Christ. Fall on Him so those things can be broken. Actions have consequences. God has told you, O mortal, what is good. The bad things need to be broken off you—You’re not going to miss them, those are the things that are just ruining everything. Confess your sin. What was your part in making things bad? Don’t look around trying to find someone else to blame. Confess. Repent. Repentance is God’s kindness. It’s His idea, He wants to forgive you, it’s what He came to do.
God has sent His beloved Son, surely you will respect Him.
By the parable of the vineyard and quoting the psalm about the cornerstone, Jesus warns against rejecting the Messiah. God’s mission in Christ will succeed; we reject Him at great danger to ourselves and our loved ones. No matter what, God will build His Church on the crucified and resurrected Jesus. May we always build our eternal hope on the one sure cornerstone God has provided for us—The Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.