https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tq4UTcF0iQA
Mark 12:1-12
[1] And he began to speak to them in parables. “A man planted a vineyard and put a fence around it and dug a pit for the winepress and built a tower, and leased it to tenants and went into another country. [2] When the season came, he sent a servant to the tenants to get from them some of the fruit of the vineyard. [3] And they took him and beat him and sent him away empty-handed. [4] Again he sent to them another servant, and they struck him on the head and treated him shamefully. [5] And he sent another, and him they killed. And so with many others: some they beat, and some they killed. [6] He had still one other, a beloved son. Finally he sent him to them, saying, ‘They will respect my son.’ [7] But those tenants said to one another, ‘This is the heir. Come, let us kill him, and the inheritance will be ours.’ [8] And they took him and killed him and threw him out of the vineyard. [9] What will the owner of the vineyard do? He will come and destroy the tenants and give the vineyard to others. [10] Have you not read this Scripture:
“‘The stone that the builders rejected
has become the cornerstone;
[11] this was the Lord’s doing,
and it is marvelous in our eyes’?”
[12] And they were seeking to arrest him but feared the people, for they perceived that he had told the parable against them. So they left him and went away.
SERMON: “Written In”
Just to really excite you, I want to begin our time by introducing to you to a thought by a German philosopher by the name of Georg Hegel. Something he said that was the fascination of many philosophers — The owl of Minerva only flies at dusk. And it’s a fascination that Christian philosopher Jamie Smith has joined in on. And he unpacks his thoughts about this in his book How to Inhabit Time, which was a work regarding what he refers to as spiritual timekeeping — I think something that was birthed out of his contemplations during the Coronavirus lockdowns. But about this statement, Minerva is the Roman name for Athena. And Athena is the Greek goddess of wisdom. I’m not espousing Greco-Roman polytheism here, so stay with me. Athena’s sacred animal is the owl, hence, the owl of Minerva— the sacred animal of wisdom. And what Hegel is saying here is that this sacred animal, the emblem of wisdom, this owl only flies at dusk. And what does that mean? That it’s not until the day is over that wisdom takes flight. You have to chronologically live out the day and pass through time in order to get to that place of wisdom. And so, in the thoughts of Hegel, the only way you can truly live wisely is if you contemplate the past in order to make movements into the future. And this is good, general wisdom for anyone to consider. We learn from our past — it’s what we’re taught in history classes. That the reason we learn about the past is to learn from them and not to repeat history’s mistakes. Because wisdom, in the vein of Proverbs, is the art of living well. And much of this art has to do with anticipating through learned and studied patterns. And so, Jamie Smith ponders this thought, but he comes up with his own conclusion. He notes that there is a hack to this. Because he takes us into the multigenerational community of the church. And he says that to have friendships across generations is like time travel. Because older friends can almost anticipate your dusk even before you reach it, because they’ve already lived out some variation of it.
And the ultimate hack is friendship with one who not only transcends time but stepped into it. Because when Jesusstepped into our story, he lived each day from dawn to dusk. And he came not just as the Word who became flesh but the Word who was from the beginning and in the beginning with God. And we read in Psalm 104:24 — O LORD, how manifold are your works! In wisdom you have made them all; the earth is full of your creatures. And so, here is wisdom personified who stepped into the ordinariness of time, as one who created time from outside of time. And as he who not only created life but he who truly experienced death — the fullest experience of dawn to dusk — he gives us access to this ultimate time travel. Where we don’t have to experience something in order to know it. And when we feel stuck in our present, he gives us the surety of what’s to come in eternity. That for the deepest spiritual matters of life, we know that he experienced it on our behalf in order that we might know his promises deep into our hearts. Because here was one who inhabited time in his incarnation. And in Galatians 4, we’re told that this inhabiting was the fullness of time. And as those whose reality is shaped by what he’s experienced and done, we then, don’t live backwards but we live forward. For us who feel stuck in our present, we don’t have to find measures of escape but lean into this story he’s written himself into. For here is the Kingdom of God. And as most kingdoms are, this kingdom is completely dependent upon the King. You and I make for some dreadful and untrustworthy servants and subjects in this Kingdom. But because of the sure grip of our King, everything promised for us in this Kingdom is eternally secured. For he’s the prince who left his throne, he’s the Son who left the comforts of his Father, he’s the king who gave up his rights and his privileges for those who forsake him and leave him. And why? To stay and to be planted as the Word who became flesh and would bear fruit for those who trust him — even a hundredfold, because we believe in the story of the cross and empty tomb.
You look at our passage today, and it’s a parable. And the Greek word for parable is the combining of two words — παραand βολη. And these are respectively to put alongside and to throw. And in these parables that describe the Kingdom of God, it’s to throw and put heaven alongside earth. By showing us the king who was thrown into this earth from the heavens. The king who not only transcends time but came into time, in order to visit and inhabit the stories of his people. And I don’t know if you thought this but the well-recalled and known reference in verse 10 about the builders rejecting the cornerstone. This, of course, is in relation to how the religious leaders rejected Jesus. But in the context of what’s going on with this parable — with tenants and a son. I don’t know if you’ve ever wondered — What’s this doing here? And the rejection is one thing — it’s a vital part of what’s happening here. But there’s something else. For the reference to this cornerstone here in verse 10 comes from Psalm 118. And something that Don Carson notes about the Old Testament usage, in particular the Psalms, in the New Testament — meaning, when the New Testament authors reference Old Testament verses. When that happens, it’s not just a reference to the verse itself but often times, it was a reference to the whole Psalm. And when you look at Psalm 118, the Psalm is about the steadfast love of the Lord. This is the long-lasting, covenant-preserving and keeping faithfulness of God. This is to point us back to God’s long love, as the playwright and covenant keeping God. That while we might be shortsighted, he never would be, as the one who has view of the entire script. Because the parable directs us to this story of a vineyard and the relationship of the master of the vineyard, with the servants, and with the heir. And on the surface, you have this master who sends servant after servantin order to get some fruit from the vineyard. But each time, these wicked tenants would beat, send back empty-handed, and eventually killed each servant sent. Showing this increasing hostility and increasingly amplified violence and wickedness. And before we get into the climax of the story, involving the beloved Son, we need to fill in the colors to this story. Because this is not just some random story that Jesus is sharing. But the imagery of a vineyard directs us toward the relationship between God and the people of Israel. There are these vineyard songs that we read of in the book of Isaiah. And what we read of in Isaiah 5 and in some of the other vineyard songs is the severed relationship of God and Israel due to Israel’s sin and infidelity. And God had sent prophet after prophet, but they were ignored, and in John the Baptist’s case, beheaded. And we’re told that the Pharisees felt the rebuke of this story, because they knew it was about them. Because at this moment, it’s they who think that they are in charge of the Temple. But what Jesus is accusing them of is actually severing the relationships of the Jews to God, because what Jesus is showing is that their use of the law is not only hindering but is killing and serving as hostility against God’s people.
And it’s a hopeless scenario that’s being painted here. Something that may make us wonder and question — Why is this here? Well, we noted that the word authority had been emphasized prior to the telling of this parable. That four times it was used, where the authority of Jesus is questioned and challenged by the Pharisees. And it shows us something. Because what do we get with the parable here? These wicked tenants think that they can devise a plan, as those who think they’re in control. And they scheme up this plan to kill the Son. But as Aslan might say, what they weren’t aware of is the deeper magic that happens when they kill the heir. You see, because the word authority finds its roots with the word author. And while these Pharisees think they can seize control of the situation midway through the story, there’s one who has planned this all the way from the beginning. Because you look at the parable, and it has an interesting plot twist. These tenants think that if they kill the heir, then they might be able to take the inheritance. And even in the Old Testament, it may have seemed like this inheritance was being taken. In Isaiah 19:25, God calls Israel his inheritance. And yet, when wickedness swarms the land, the laments we find in Lamentations 5:2 — Our inheritance has been turned over to strangers, our homes to foreigners. And yet, the hope in Micah 7:18 is that this inheritance is left intact because of the steadfast love of God — the long love, the covenant faithfulness of God who not only wrote the story but wrote himself into the script. Because when the Son of God is written into the plot, in the words of C. S. Lewis, it was not a last ditch effort to save story. But this was planned, it was scripted. Because the odd thing we read is that when the Son is killed, this inheritance is given to others. And it might seem like something simple. But what it shows is twofold — it was never up for the taking. But it’s given by the author who has full awareness of the effects of the death of the Son. For here lies the good news. God doesn’t keep this inheritance for himself. And for an inheritance to be given, there needs to be an established will. And what we read in Hebrews 9:16-17: “For where a will is involved, the death of the one who made it must be established. For a will takes effect only at death, since it is not in force as long as the one who made it is alive.” And do you see what happens here? These tenants think that they’re taking the will by force, but the will and this inheritance can only be given by the death of the Son to those who have been willed to receive it.
Because you know the story. Left to ourselves, to our own devices, to our own abilities, we are rendered helpless — against our sin, against our history of rebellion. And so, one had to come into the story, and it took his death — death on the cross — to make things right and to restore our belonging as the treasured inheritance of God. Because this is not just any Son, but what we’re told here is that this is the beloved Son. The Son who did no wrong, the Son who committed no sin, the Son who loved his Father perfectly. And you look at the only other times the words — this beloved Son — is mentioned. It’s in the baptism and the transfiguration. And what do we see in both of those events? In the baptism of Jesus, it’s Jesus who tells John the Baptist — You must baptize me. And why? What sin did Jesus have to be cleansed of? But he would have to be immersed into the waters that cleansed others’ sins. He would have to be fully submerged in the polluted waters to be covered in our sin. To take upon the drowning of God’s judgment. And what about the transfiguration? Well, we saw not too long ago that the Transfiguration was the event where Jesus had this mountaintop experience, where he is declared the Son of God, where he is doted upon by his Father. But instead of staying in this mountaintop experience, what do we see? This glorified Son descends down the mountain to the cries of a bewildered demon-possessed son and his father. He comes down into our stories, into our valleys. He descends into the sunken valleys of our hopeless and hapless dwelling. Where we in our sins had severed our relationship with God, he comes to repair and to restore. He comes to die in our place, to give us his inheritance, and to place upon our ears words of restorative healing.
And here’s how we’ll begin closing our time. Because what we’re told is the common quoted and referenced Psalm — that the builders rejected the cornerstone. And you think about what a cornerstone does for a building. Architects say that it’s the first stone laid down. And that it serves as the reference point for all the other stones that are laid down after. I have no real experience of building any kinds of structures aside from tents on camping trips. But I used to play with these things called magnetiles with my kids. And that’s the visual that might work for us. Because you can’t just stack magnetiles next to each other and expect the structure to stand. You have to establish a corner. And then, you build with the neighboring magnetiles using the corner as a reference point. And what does that mean for us? Well, we as the stones of the church not only need to be pressed tightly against each other, metaphorically speaking, but we need to be built in accordance to our reference point. We are built together with the eyes of our hearts focused on the cornerstone. And in what posture? Upon the cornerstone who was rejected. Because we’re not built according to our strengths. But here, we bring our needs, we bring our lacks, we bring our stories of rejection. Because here, God is forming together a structure of a people who are gathered not because of our sufficiencies but in our needs, our confessions. Knowing that God not only accepts us but understands us. As the Son who was abandoned by the Father in our place, that story of ultimate rejection is no longer ours. Because our sins and our shame and our history of rebellion have been nailed to the cross, and we bear them no more. And you think back to our parable and what the Pharisees were trying to do here. They were thinking that the Temple was their jurisdiction. But Jesus comes here to assume his authority. Because he comes into our story to flip the script. To a people who were driven to hopeless despair, he comes to give a definitively authoritative statement and verdict. That the law does not get the last word. Manmade traditions don’t get the last word. That God and his grace gets the last word. Because the deed is done, the act is finished. Because the payment was made, and the Maker was made to die. Here, we have declared upon us the words of definitive nature. And I want to close us with words from a song by the Wood Drake Session, titled The Doxology Creed —
I believe believe
O triune God of love
I believe believe
You are merciful and just
I believe your redemption
I believe that death will die
And I will see resurrection
Unto everlasting life
You are the alpha the omega
Beginning and the end
With all creation we're yearning
Oh Yahweh come again
Yours is the kingdom and the wisdom
And the power evermore
Yours is the beauty and the glory
We will endlessly adore
Because when we don’t know what to believe of ourselves, we lean into what has been said for us and about us. That death will die, that there is redemption, that the Alpha and Omega has stepped into time. And with all of creation, we’re yearning that Jesus will come again. As our friend who stepped into time and into our stories, we trust that he will come to make all things right once and for all. I don’t know what narratives are taking control of the command center of our hearts. But we press upon one another, as those who hold Jesus, our rejected Messiah, as our common reference point.
