Can you imagine how hard it must have been for them? How excruciating to have had to utter the words! Surely it went against ever fiber of their being to have to give such a reply, but after having analyzed it from every angle, the best response the know-it-all religious leaders could give to Jesus’ question was, “We don’t know” (v.27).
How true it was, though! They didn’t know. Hardened hearts were not willing to accept the spiritual things that only the Holy Spirit can reveal, and so they truly didn’t know the answer to Jesus’ question.
Nor did they wish to, which shows us how stubborn a thing unbelief is to overcome. Each possible response they considered showed them to be in the wrong. Either response would have taken them at least one step in the right direction closer to faith in Jesus.
But unbelief is a stubborn thing. It doesn’t wish to be overcome. It prefers to remain blind. It prefers to remain in the dark. It refuses to be humbled or corrected. So rather than acknowledge it is in the wrong, it offers uncertainty as a suitable middle ground.
We see it today. Nonbelievers are content to live in limbo, refusing to believe one thing or another on the basis of “How can we really know for sure?” Or, they deflect their responsibility in investigating Jesus’ claims or the veracity of the Bible by accusing Christians of believing themselves to be superior to everyone else because they’re so sure they’re right and everyone else is wrong. So they hang out in the middle, shrugging their shoulders like the chief priests and elders, while echoing their disinterested “we don’t know.”
And these are the same ones who want to point out how readily they would believe if they simply had any proof of God’s existence. To them, just as he did to the chief priests and elders who refused to acknowledge the proof right before their eyes speaking to them, Jesus says, “Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things” (v.27).
Jesus is never one to waste words, not when he knew his time on earth – as well as theirs – was limited. For that reason he chose to steer the conversation in a different direction. Rather than trying to satisfy unbelieving ears with some sort of appeal that would legitimize his authority, Jesus instead focused on the greater issue that had to change before anything else: the unbelief in their hearts. To address that issue – the biggest issue by far in anyone’s heart, Jesus told a story.
“What do you think? There was a man who had two sons. He went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work today in the vineyard.’ “‘I will not,’ he answered, but later he changed his mind and went. “Then the father went to the other son and said the same thing. He answered, ‘I will, sir,’ but he did not go” (v.28-30). Jesus’ parable is short and to the point. It would seem to be rather straightforward, and especially relatable to anyone with their own kids, or who has ever been around kids, or who has ever been a kid – so yes, relatable to all of us. At the end of the day, a person may have good intentions, but good intentions by themselves don’t yield good results.
Jesus’ listeners rightly guessed the answer to his follow-up question, “Which of the two did what his father wanted?” (v.31). They knew the son who ended up actually following through with the father’s request was the one who did what he wanted. While the father would have most certainly been irritated, by the son’s initial refusal to do what told him to do, in the end, the father would have been happy to see the son end up doing the work. Perhaps there would be some additional conversation about how out-of-line it was for the son to say “no” to his father in the first place (a conversation that seems to be far too infrequent in our society today), but ultimately the son did the work he was told to do, even if after initially bucking against it.
On the other hand, how disappointed must the father have been when the other son’s initial, “Okay, I will” resulted in nothing but further inactivity! At least if the other son had done nothing, his inactivity would have matched his initial response. But what a different thing it is when expectations are raised, only to be dashed again! What a different thing it is when someone agrees and then doesn’t follow through.
What exactly was Jesus’ point for his listeners then? What message did he wish to get through the thick skulls of the chief priests and teachers of the law? They knew Jesus’ teachings. They knew Jesus’ claims. They knew that others, too, were aware of what Jesus was calling for from his disciples – to repent and believe in him.
But since their hearts were hard, they rejected Jesus’ invitation, convinced they were already carrying out what the father, what the LORD, had called them to do: obey and embrace the law along with its “do’s” and “don’ts” as a means of satisfying the Father. In essence, they thought their lives were already a reflection of the perfect son who knew what the father wanted and proceeded to carry it out. But they missed that they weren’t at all carrying out what the father had asked: to believe in the one he sent, the Savior, Jesus.
It was a different story, however, for the tax collectors and the prostitutes. They were the other son. They looked at what the religious crowd was portraying as far as the father’s demands, and they didn’t even bother pretending to say “yes” to such high demands. They knew such expectations were impossible for the likes of them. They knew they had no chance in following through with such lofty expectations, so they just presumed they’d always be on the outside looking in when it came to meeting religious qualifications.
But when Jesus comes along and shares the exact same message – “repent and believe in me,” there was a different result. The very same ones who in their own minds were the “No way” sons and daughters to the father’s request were quick to follow through with what Jesus called them to do: believe he was the Savior.
Jesus shared their outcome with the chief priests and teachers of the law: “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you” (v.31).
The chief priests and teachers of the law were doing what they thought the father – God – was asking of them, but in reality they were doing what they in their own self-righteous hearts wished would have been the way to satisfy the father. In that regard, it wasn’t at all the father they were really aiming to please, but their own sense of self-righteousness.
What does this have to do with us today? After all, when was the last time you came into contact with a chief priest or teacher of the law? Well, actually, we see them anytime we look in the mirror. What do I mean?
In the simplest sense, who can keep track of the number of times we’ve been the son who says “I will” and then doesn’t? We take the time to comment under the prayer request post that we’re praying or we text back the praying hands emoji, but we don’t take the time to actually pray the prayer we promised. We ask someone in need to let us know if there’s anything we can do to help, and when they lay out the specifics of how we could actually help, we fail to follow through. We commit to serving or volunteering in this or that role with a full understanding of what is being expected of us, only to not do what we said we’d do, and instead make excuses or keep putting off what we agreed to get done. It’s not the son in the parable we want to be, but it’s the son we so often are.
We’re that same son even when we do the right things we should do… but for the wrong reasons. Remember, those confronting Jesus did actually focus on obedience and following the rules. They were concerned with doing the right things, and they were sincere about it. But their reasons were sincerely wrong. Their doings and obedience and rule-following were not Christ-compelled gestures of overwhelming appreciation and thanks that stemmed from a vibrant heart of faith overflowing with gratitude. No, their doings and obedience and rule-following were prompted by perfectionist tendencies that believed the lie that peace with God was earned – or even could be earned – by hard work and dutiful effort on their part. As far as they were concerned, the attitude behind that effort didn’t matter. As long as it got done, that’s what God was looking for.
When instead of joyfully jumping in we resentfully allow ourselves to be “roped in” to service and ministry, we might as well have come clean right from the start and instead been the son who said, “I will not,” because God isn’t looking for a church built on begrudging acts of service. When worship becomes an appearance that must be made to be seen by others instead of an eager acceptance of the King’s banquet invitation to be fed the divine food that satisfies our souls, we are the son who says he will, but doesn’t. When the days sandwiched between Sundays are lived out as if they were our “time-off” from Christian living instead of the actual time to punch in and put in the work of living out our faith, we are the son who says he will, but doesn’t. In so many ways we are the wrong son in this parable!
How much we need a third Son – God’s Son! He alone is the Son who not only said, “I will,” but also carried out the Father’s will perfectly. What’s more, he knew his purpose so well and realized his mission that he invited others to test him as they followed him, listened to him, and watched him carry out his work. His invitation then is still extended to us today – “Do not believe me unless I do the works of my Father” (John 10:37).
To those still claiming “we don’t know,” Jesus says, “Fine, put me to the test and see! But if you see me doing what my Father commanded – in a way no one else ever has or ever could, then you have all the reason you need to believe in me!”
And near the last hours of his, as Satan was preparing to use Judas and Jesus’ enemies to carry out God’s plan and purpose on the cross, Jesus explained why it had to happen: “so that the world may learn that I love the Father and do exactly what my Father has commanded me” (John 14:31).
This is the Son we need, the son we could never be, the Son who did all that the Father commanded – including the covering of our own failures as sons and daughters by giving up his very life on the cross! This is the Son in whom there is no insincerity or deceit, but only perfect obedience, carried out with a perfect heart, filled with perfect love for the Father. This is the Son through whom we have forgiveness and a place with our Father here and now, and home in heaven.
Because he did, we are on the receiving end of that same perfect love, a love the Father has for us because of the perfectly sincere Son, our Savior, Jesus. There is no place for “I don’t know,” no place for “I’m not sure.” There is only absolute certainty in the perfect sincerity of Jesus, carried out in his perfect life, death, and resurrection, for you.