The Upside-Down Kingdom of God
Matthew 20, Mark 10:32-52, Luke 18:31-43
The closer we get to Jerusalem, the more we don’t like the stories. They don’t line up neat and clean into easy sweet little homilies. The stories Jesus tells are messy. The people we think easily fit through the door into heaven are turning and walking away. Those people we love to hate are having Jesus over for dinner. I had planned on sharing with you the wonderful story of Mary of Bethany today, but that will need to wait for next week. Because today an enthusiastic woman who really wants to get it right described humility as being equal with everyone else. So, instead, I have to tell this story of being completely unequal. Because that is who our God is.
If you are reading these stories leading up to our version of Easter, you may be here. Matthew, Mark, and Luke overlap the telling of these stories unfolding these final days as they walk closer and closer to their destination. Luke will tell us the story of stopping to dine with the tax collector Zacchaeus; Matthew will retell Jesus describing the kingdom of heaven and comparing it to the unfair payment of laborers in the field. Mark will tell us neither. Matthew and Mark will tell of James and John asking to sit on his left and on his right in his coming kingdom. They all three will tell of Jesus warning them of his coming death (and resurrection!). All three will tell of blind Bartimaeus receiving his sight – although Luke has him as they enter the city; Matthew and Mark as they leave. Their stories soon converge as they enter the gates of Jerusalem. Every story; every conversation will hold a heavier weight. We need to pay close attention.
It is good to remember as we trail along with them, this is not a small band of merry travelers. Yes, it is Jesus and his closest disciples, but the crowd around them is growing large– disciples and followers and entertainment seekers alike. Plus, it is nearing the High Holy Days of Passover in Jerusalem – every fine Jewish family that is able will be gathering there. Traveling from their own small towns and villages, the children of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob go to gather and remember the night in Egypt when the angel of death passed over their ancestors, their homes marked with the blood of the lamb.
It has been a long road to get here. The northern shores of Galilee are long behind them; excitement and tension build as they move deeper into southern Judea, and closer to the Holy City of Jerusalem. North of Jerusalem, they move into the city of Jericho. Jericho, where Joshua fought the battle, and the walls came tumbling down when the Israelites first moved into this Promised Land after 40 years in the desert.
Jericho, some 18 miles from Jerusalem, is always referred to as 'going down to Jericho' because it lies at 825' below sea level. The narrow road leading away from Jericho is familiar to us as the treacherous road where the good Samaritan stopped to care for the traveler who had been attacked and robbed by thieves in Jesus’ story. And then, one always goes ‘up to Jerusalem’ since it stands on ground that is 2500’ above sea level. The road that connects the two cities is just 18 miles long, climbing steeply from 825’ below sea level to 2500’ above.
Such a dramatic change in heights must be exhausting for the travelers. I think the terrain would also reflect the emotional state of our Lord and his disciples. The heights of Jerusalem ahead. The rocky, unstable road that leads there. The last pause to catch your breath is the oasis of Jericho.
Jesus had one thing on his mind, as he walked and talked to his disciples. It is the thought that is reflected in every conversation. It is opening the door to the kingdom of heaven. Earlier he had astounded his listeners with his declaration to the rich young ruler who desired assurance of eternal life; "Obey the commandments. Sell all your possessions and give the money to the poor and come follow me." The rich young man has just walked away, his pockets too full to enter through the narrow door. He was discouraged. And everyone else was as well! "If not him, then who can enter?" they asked. "This is impossible!" they cried in dismay.
“What is impossible for you – is possible for God!” Jesus reassured them. And he taught them something that every Christ follower can easily quote, “Many of those who are first (in this world) will be last (in the world to come), and the last, first.” Matthew 19:30, 20:16, Mark 10:31, and Luke 13:30.
With that paradoxical announcement, Jesus launches into this completely unfair story of the landowner and the workers he hires to work in his vineyard. He promises the first hired workers a denarius; acceptable payment for a day’s work. They agree with the terms, and they go to work. It is 6 a.m. in the morning. The landowner decides he needs more workers, and hires some at 9 a.m., then again at noon. At 3 p.m., the work is almost done, but not quite, so he hires more workers, and then an hour before the day is done, he brings in workers again. They work an hour and then are put first in line to be paid.
Oh, we humans have such a radar for 'fairness', don't we? We want everyone paid equally unless we have worked harder and longer, and then it is only fair in our minds, that the worker who works harder and longer be paid more. That's fair. But for some reason, God does not seem to operate by our idea of fairness. Or by what is equal in our minds. He has a different standard. We heard him say it earlier when he was hiring the idle workers in the marketplace, “I will pay you whatever is ‘right’. (Matthew 20:4)
Fairness and equality are all about the worker. What is right, or to use the word a little differently, what is 'righteous' is determined by the landowner. When the workers protest, he asks the question: “Am I not allowed to do what I chose with what belongs to me? Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Should you be angry because I am generous?” My mind tumbles back to God’s earlier explanation.
For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts. Isaiah 55:8-9 ESV
There are many ways this parable can be interpreted but let us consider this: perhaps it was the law-abiding Jews who God hired first. They were chosen by Him and given a very specific job to do. But as time has gone on, he has brought in the Romans and the European Gentiles. America was hired around mid-afternoon. And who is on fire for working in His vineyard now as the day grows short? It may well be the persecuted believers in countries where holding a bible is a death sentence. It may be the Christ followers behind bars in China or the hidden believers in Muslim-dominated countries where their own families will disown or murder them for professing the name of Jesus. Will we all be paid the same? Will God be generous with all of us at the end of the day?
Or would the disciples, who walked and talked with Jesus be the first hired, putting their lives on the line to work in the vineyard? We who are born under religious freedom may be the last hired, waltzing in the door an hour before quitting time, with little ventured; our hands pretty smooth and uncalloused. Yet we plan on walking into that same Kingdom where the martyrs are. It is a sobering and humbling story to consider.
We humans want things fair. But God has much bigger plans. He wants things right. Right in His eyes. And as Jesus explained earlier, only God is good and righteous. God, the Landowner, can choose to be generous with us.
If God, owner of all things, was only concerned with being fair, we would each take responsibility for our own sins and transgressions against Him. We would each stand before judgment with our hats in our hands and receive God’s wrath for what we have done or what we refused to do. But Jesus tells us God decided He would be generous; He would make a different kind of deal. One that was based on His righteousness, not on our ideas about fairness. And it would look like this:
God, King of Kings, would send His own Son, Prince of Peace into a broken world to open a narrow door into His Kingdom. And instead of His Son, Jesus, being first, he would humble himself and take the role of the last, the least, the servant. We can read about this servant long before he came. The prophet Isaiah wrote about him: (Isaiah 53:1-6 NLT).
Who has believed our message?
To whom has the Lord revealed his powerful arm?
My servant grew up in the Lord’s presence like a tender green shoot,
like a root in dry ground.
There was nothing beautiful or majestic about his appearance,
nothing to attract us to him.
He was despised and rejected—
a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief.
We turned our backs on him and looked the other way.
He was despised, and we did not care.
Yet it was our weaknesses he carried;
it was our sorrows that weighed him down.
And we thought his troubles were a punishment from God,
a punishment for his own sins!
But he was pierced for our rebellion,
crushed for our sins.
He was beaten so we could be whole.
He was whipped so we could be healed.
All of us, like sheep, have strayed away.
We have left God's paths to follow our own.
Yet the Lord laid on him
the sins of us all.
Jesus is this servant. His followers think he is marching toward Jerusalem to conquer it and deliver them and establish his kingdom. They cannot comprehend they are accompanying him on his death march to Jerusalem. He will not conquer the Romans; he will conquer death. He will not deliver them from the bondage of their enemies; he will deliver them from the bondage of their sin and the debt they cannot pay. He will not establish a temporary kingdom on earth: he will establish his Father's Kingdom in eternity. Jesus will be the long-awaited Anointed One of God, showing up, not as king, but as a sacrificial lamb, taking upon himself the punishment for our sins. It is almost Passover. Soon, the blood will need to be painted over our doors.
It is heart-rending to listen to the foolish request of James and John, those hot-headed sons of Zebedee. Even their mother gets in on it. "Give my boys the seats of honor in your kingdom; one on your right and one on your left." Jesus is dearly kind in his response. “You do not know what you are asking.” He asks the brothers a question he already knows the answer to – much better than they can imagine. “Are you able to drink the cup that I am to drink?”
"Oh, yes!" they quickly reply. I wonder what is in their minds; Is it a cup of wine, a cup of Kool-Aid, a cup of a little suffering, or a cup of joy? When I first understood what this cup held, I was horrified. No wonder Jesus would cry out and ask his Father to take the cup away from him. He would sweat to the point of blood on a dark night in a garden, while his disciples slept and Judas, with coins in his pocket, led soldiers to witness a kiss of betrayal. The cup was waiting. The cup of God's wrath. Yet the Lord laid on him the sins of us all.
Right behind the brothers, the other disciples have lined up to be offended, indignant, and outraged that they could lose out on a position of power. Where is our seat? Can you imagine the patience of Jesus? How often do we find ourselves looking around and thinking, "This is unfair! I deserve better! Why do they get more? Look at me! Haven't I worked hard? Haven't I given up much? Where is my good reward?" We have no clue what we are asking. Here is the patient response of Jesus.
“Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave— just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” Matthew 20:26b-28 ESV
Jesus came to turn our world upside down. They were looking for a king. Jesus was calling them to be a servant. They were pushing themselves to the front of the line. Jesus was already placing himself last. Is that what he wants us to do? We did not take on the name of Jesus to get in line in front of him. We need to look behind us, we need to go to the back of the line. We need to make sure we think of ourselves last. And others, first. You will know when you are in the right place. It will be when you are thinking to yourself, “What am I doing here? I don’t want to be here. This isn’t fair. This is uncomfortable. This could be dangerous.” Bingo. You are probably in the right place.
With no room for argument, Jesus clarified his mission; to serve others, to give his life for many. He also asked a question, “What do you want me to do for you?” He said it twice. It is the question of a servant. He said it to those first-in-liners James and John. He said it to the two blind men making such a racket and refusing to shut up. (I wonder if Matthew includes the second blind man and leaves them both unnamed to tie them easily to the blindness of James and John.) Look at it carefully. “What do you want me to do for you?”
“Open our eyes!” the blind men cried out. “Help us to see!” And he did.
Jesus wanted to open the eyes of his closest disciples. He wanted them to understand if they were to follow him, they must become like him. He would not be sitting down on a throne just yet. No need to be too concerned about the seating arrangements. Jesus had come to a broken world wearing the clothing of the servant. The one who would give the most without concern for payment. He was in complete agreement with the upside-down world of the landowner. The landowner who loved to be generous. Who loved to give what was 'right' in His eyes. The landowner who was willing to kill his own son so that the hostages held in the bondage of death might live. Jesus would drink the cup. Jesus would bear the weight of our sins. I think Jesus said it this way; “…the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” The prophet Isaiah would agree.
Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied;
by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant,
make many to be accounted righteous,
and he shall bear their iniquities. Isaiah 53:11 ESV