NOTES for Mat 21:33-46

Jesus gives old words new meanings. He tells His opponents the ancient parable from the prophet Isaiah (ch. 5) about how his (Isaiah's) friend planted a good vineyard, but thorns and wild grapes grew in it - yet the main meaning of this parable is radically changed by Him.

There the Lord did not receive fruit from His vineyard because His people did not fulfill the elementary moral demands of the law: they oppressed, killed, and deceived one another; this is precisely how their unbelief and "not knowing God" were revealed. Jesus' parable, on the contrary, is addressed to righteous, devout people who are certain that they are the very ones who know God and bring Him the best fruits. Here the "fruitlessness" of the vineyard is caused by the fact that its "vinedressers" do not know how to believe: they reject the prophets and Christ Himself. It is Jesus Himself who here takes the place of Isaiah's moral demands: He is the One in whom the people of God's Kingdom must bear fruit, and the One for whom all the vineyards of the earth were planted.

Today's reading again offers us the parable of the vineyard told by Jesus. This parable, like all parables of this kind, is messianic, and the vineyard here, as in the Bible in general, becomes a symbol of the messianic Kingdom.

To understand the parable it is important to keep in mind that the Pharisaic movement was a messianic movement. Its participants considered themselves to be the very remnant of which the prophets spoke. Of course, the prophets spoke of the remnant with a small part of the people in mind, one that, after passing through trials, and the Babylonian exile became such a trial for the Jewish people, would preserve the faith and meet the Messiah promised by God. But already after the exile and after the people's return to the land of their fathers, a brotherhood movement formed in the Synagogue, and its members began to consider themselves precisely the remnant. They were called "Pharisees," that is, "the separated ones," "sectarians." Perhaps at first this was a somewhat contemptuous nickname, but in Gospel times members of the brotherhood already called themselves "Pharisees" willingly, and even with a certain defiance. They considered themselves the spiritual heirs of the prophets and the guardians of the traditions of prophetic messianism.

Jesus places them in the same line with those who in ancient times persecuted and killed the prophets (vv. 34-36). From His point of view, they had in fact turned out to be heirs not of the prophets, but of their persecutors. And they completed what their predecessors had begun (vv. 37-39).

And here what actually makes the cross of Christ inevitable took place. The listeners understood Jesus perfectly. And they decided to kill Him (vv. 45-46). Quite recently the matter could have been a theological discussion (vv. 23-27); now the discussion threatened to turn into bloodshed. And no wonder: the unwillingness to answer Jesus' question (vv. 25-27) was not accidental. There was a choice here: to acknowledge the obvious and abandon their own views and concepts, or to abandon nothing, closing their eyes to God's will. Jesus' interlocutors in fact choose the second. And if in this situation Jesus, even after denouncing His listeners, had not insisted on anything, perhaps everything would have passed without conflict, and there would have appeared the possibility of coexistence among different points of view, of which there were already many in the Synagogue of Gospel times.

But Jesus says directly that the issue is not opinions, but the Kingdom, and here there can be no compromise (vv. 43-44). And His listeners understand that the matter is no longer a theological dispute, but survival: if this strange Teacher is right, they will have to leave, giving place to others. And He will not yield just like that. He puts the question bluntly and will stand His ground to the end. Then those who do not want to leave and do not want to accept have only one possibility left. For if this Man really dies, then the problem will resolve itself: it will become clear that He is no Messiah and no prophet; therefore those who did not accept Him were right and can sleep peacefully. In this way, rejection of Christ makes His cross inevitable.

The parable of the wicked tenants, besides sadness over the injustice and cruelty of the vineyard workers, also brings a ray of light and hope in the Lord. One would think: how can these tenants even imagine that after beating the servants and killing the son and heir, the inheritance will pass to them?

Here it becomes clear that from the outside it is much easier to see how foolishly and blasphemously a person sometimes builds his plans. How little suited he is for what he is trying to claim. And what fate awaits him? The modern listener's reaction to such a story differs little from the content of verse 41.

But behind all this we see light: already here and now the Lord is speaking to the people about His Resurrection. Yes, it is the language of parables, but this is the very form of narration He chooses. Despite the blindness of the builders, the rejected stone becomes the most important one, the cornerstone; and it is from the corner that the construction of the whole building begins, and on it depends whether the building will be solid or flimsy. And the will of the Lord is fulfilled, bringing joy and exultation to His people. The Messiah, the Son, the Heir rises and begins to build His Church.

The direct meaning of the parable is clear enough. Israel is the Lord's vineyard (see Isa. 5), and its leaders are the wicked tenants. They quickly understand whom Jesus is speaking about in this parable, which only strengthens their resolve to destroy Him. But the Gospel is addressed not only to the chief priests of ancient Israel. Applied to us, it may have an equally alarming meaning. What fruit does the Lord expect from us? The fruit of the Spirit expected from Christ's disciples is love, joy, peace, and so on (Gal. 5:22). Whom does He send to collect this fruit? Not only prophets and righteous people. He sends us ourselves to gather one another's fruit. The person who happens to be my neighbor at this moment is a messenger of the vineyard's Owner, sent to see whether we are ready to show that very love and peace toward him. Every such messenger is an “authorized representative” of Jesus, for whatever we have done to our neighbor, we have done to Christ (Matt. 25:31-46).

Jesus describes a terrible chain of violence and murder. And the chief priests and the righteous Pharisees immediately recognize themselves in the murderers. Sadly, this says that they were, perhaps, more honest than we are. After all, the situation Jesus described has not gone anywhere. This is what has happened and still happens; it is the constant temptation of every believer: to decide that everything the Lord has given is MINE. We forget that we were appointed to preserve and increase God's gifts for His glory, and we begin to use them according to our own judgment. And we also consider God's vineyard, the Church, our own property.

How much we dislike those who do not know how to behave, who ask foolish questions and keep us from enjoying our time in church. How much we dislike those who express a point of view different from ours. After all, we know the truth; after all, the Lord has revealed everything to us. Now we have complete information and are self-sufficient... And right here it turns out that God is no longer needed. We ourselves know everything. We have read the Bible; we know how to organize the Church. He gave us everything needed; He entrusted His vineyard to us. Now we will deal with this vineyard ourselves. And in our confidence that we are right, without noticing it ourselves, we can begin to drive out those whom He sent into His vineyard. And it will turn out that in this vineyard there is no place for the master, the Lord...

But today's reading tells us what can be done. The Lord gives us His vineyard so that we may bear fruit for Him. And our only way to break this terrible chain of rejecting God is to be open to Him and to every person whom He sends to meet us.

Is this parable only about the killing of the prophets and of the Son of God Himself? Is there not a direct rebuke to our conscience here? Yes, of course, because everything written in the Gospel is addressed to me personally. So what is my guilt?

Remember some occasion when you received the Holy Mysteries of Christ and it was especially full of grace. Remember how your heart opened wide to receive God and every person, every single one: relatives and loved ones, those who had offended you, and even the poor on the church steps. How you wanted to kiss everyone and say a warm, gentle word. How you returned from church and looked at the world with different eyes, as if you had fallen in love and learned that your feeling was returned. Has that ever happened?

At such moments it appears to us, oh, how kind I have become, how I love everyone... But in reality, it is simply that the Lord has sent His Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, into your heart through Communion in the Holy Mysteries of Christ.

And what happens next? A day passes, then another; cares, problems, and other things pile up, and little by little we begin to grow irritated. The same people whom we loved so much are already saying unbearable foolish things; the impudence of the poor somehow becomes especially unpleasant; and thoughts come: after all, why does he or she not work?! And so on, and on, and on. So we have killed the Son of God within ourselves.

We have grown accustomed to regarding so many things as our own—even life itself. And we very rarely reflect that in reality all this was given to us by Someone and that we may lose it at any moment. This vineyard of life does not belong to us, and there is One who, in His own time, has the right to ask us for the fruits of our labor. The parable that the Church recalls for us today is the bitterest truth about the human race, the truth of how the Lord sends us His messengers and we kill them. The entire history of the martyrs and righteous people slain for the faith speaks of this.

Do not be too quick to say that you personally have killed no one. The Lord's messengers do not always appear in human form. The Lord sends us signs, books, and paths—and how often we disregard them! In doing so, we become people who have forgotten their homeland, who have forgotten their first and most immediate duty: their duty to the One to whom they owe their life and everything it contains.

In today’s Gospel reading, the Savior uses the device by which the prophet Nathan once called King David to repentance. Nathan told the king a parable about a man whose actions aroused David’s indignation, and then said, “You are the man”—and the king repented in tears. The Lord likewise tells the chief priests and the Pharisees a parable about themselves. Like David long ago, His listeners are outraged by the crime described in the parable and tell Christ, “He will put those wretches to a miserable death.” It is astonishing: did no one remember at that moment the beginning of the Book of Isaiah, where an almost identical parable speaks of Israel as God’s vineyard? Perhaps someone did shudder with fear and bitterness, but the chief priests and Pharisees refused to draw such obvious conclusions. The hardness of heart that seized them was the direct result of the collision between their unreadiness to repent and the truth spoken by the Creator’s own lips.

We are used to applying what is said in the parable of the vineyard to the religious leaders of the people of Israel whom it rebukes. But everything spoken of in the Gospel applies not only to events in places and times far removed from us, but also to the actions of all of us who, in any age, stand before the Lord.

Those who entered the vineyard were originally called there for service, but over time they wanted to possess the fruits themselves. Let us note that the Owner of the vineyard has no intention of leaving the workers without a reward; He gladly shares His fruits with them. But people want everything, even if it is impossible to take everything in. Well then, if we cannot eat it, we will at least bite into it. But where only the fruits are needed, the Owner of the vineyard becomes unnecessary, and the desire arises to become the owner oneself.

Such usurpation may last a long time, but the One who is not mocked will sooner or later destroy the delusion. Only not everyone will understand this, and therefore they will try again and again to insist on their own way. This means that again and again we must take to heart what the Savior has said.

Continuing the discussion of words and deeds, in today's Gospel reading the Lord brings what has been said to a kind of conclusion. And His words are so frightening that the chief priests and Pharisees try to seize Him and destroy Him on the spot, just so they will not have to hear this. Since all of us, like the Jewish chief priests and Pharisees, are steeped in the logic of historical optimism, it is just as important for us to hear Christ.

One aspect lies on the surface. Any people (or society) that senses or recognizes its special historical purpose has no grounds to count on getting away with everything because of it. To the first God-bearing people in history, the Jews, it was said: "You only have I known of all the families of the earth; therefore I will punish you for all your iniquities" (Amos 3:2). These words, like Jesus' words "the Kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people producing its fruits" in today's Gospel, apply to us insofar as we consider ourselves the Creator's chosen ones, taking part in carrying out His designs.

The mission of being a God-bearing people consists in readiness for Him to call us to account for all our iniquities, and in consent to bear Him the fruits of the Kingdom, that is, to live according to the laws of the Kingdom, not according to the "rules" of this world.

It is clear that not every one of us is equally responsible for the features of social ideology. Nevertheless, historical optimism belongs to us at the everyday level as well. We firmly hope that everything will be fine, and we take offense at the Creator if suffering and sorrow visit us. Here too the words of God quoted above are important: the basis for personal, as well as social, historical optimism can only be (a) the absence of iniquities and (b) consent to bear the fruits of the Kingdom. The latter implies readiness to follow Christ along the path He Himself offers you: the path of the Cross.

The Lord is likened to a stone. We often find this very difficult to understand. For us, the Lord and the Kingdom of God are light. But light seems to be the opposite: something light, incorporeal, and weightless. Yet Peter, the first apostle, is called a stone or rock; the Church is our rock, and the gates of hell will not prevail against her. Let us also think about Jewish and, more broadly, Mediterranean building culture. It is a culture of stone. The Lord always appeals to the most basic things, to what a person sees around him every day, to what makes up his very life. Moreover, it has been suggested that Jesus speaks of a stone because of a play on words: “ben” means son, while “eben” means stone. The apparent contradiction between these images, visible to a superficial glance, is in reality only an expression of their combined fullness. The Lord is our light and warmth. The Lord is our pillar and foundation, our support.