When two people first start dating, or “talking” which is this weird pre-dating thing that Christians especially like do for some reason, it’s not uncommon for one, if not both of the parties to feel subconscious pressure to conform to the other person. To take on parts of their personality, or their interests, or their mannerisms. Now everybody does this a little bit, that’s called social mimmickry and it’s a way that we let the other person know that we see, accept, and enjoy them. Sort of like when you meet somebody with a really strong accent and after a few minutes you find yourself accidentally mimicking their accent to the point where it becomes obvious to both of you and now you’re embarrassed. But even though it’s embarrassing to see it happen, generally it’s something we do for positive reasons, either to try and fit in ourselves or to make the other person feel welcomed. But in a new relationship that dial can get cranked up so hard it breaks. 

In a new relationship, because we are so infatuated with the other person and hyper aware and appreciative of everything they do, and because we want them to like us, it’s not at all uncommon for us to begin to lose the distinction between ourselves and them. A number of sitcoms have picked up on this and made a comedic trope out of that one friend who becomes whoever they are dating. This happened to my wife and I on the night we went from “talking” to actually “dating.” We were talking about how much I loved trail running at the time and Julianne was enthusiastically agreeing with me. I was saying that I particularly loved trail running in the rain or snow because I have a pathological aversion to getting hot. I know everything about this story is confusing to you floridians so just know that, for two people living in Colorado, this was perfectly sane. And Julianne was still 100% on board at this point in the conversation. Well it was January and there was a trail up a small mountain behind my house so we made a plan to go for a short 3 mile run one evening when she was off work. The weather was perfect, right around 20 degrees. Fresh snow on the ground. Good to go. 

So we take off running from my house and, because I’m an 18 year old doing my absolute best to impress a college girl, I’m so focused on running while puffing my chest out and flexing my arms that I didn’t even notice she was not noticing. She was, in fact, in the middle of a great struggle. We made it about ¾ of a mile before she let me know her true feelings about running, cold weather, and being outside after dark. They were not positive feelings. :) to her credit she didn't wait long at all to share her thoughts on this. But I was very confused about why she would give me the impression that she liked running when she didn’t, and even more confused about why somebody wouldn’t like running up a mountain in the dark when it was 20 degrees outside. Eventually she had compassion on my male density and explained that, while her feelings about running were not positive, her feelings about me were.

And what I didn’t realize at the time, and what I began to appreciate as I got to know who my wife was once she told me she didn't like trail running, was that relationships aren’t built around sameness, but around appreciation for the other as themselves. I'm sure it was a two way street and I was as much projecting my own interests onto her as she was taking them on. Such is the stuff of first dates. But if relationships persist in that mode and get built around sameness then they just become a complicated form of self-love. You’re just looking for yourself in another person. Something about loving our own qualities in another person feels very affirming of the self. But you know what feels even better? Actually being loved by another person. And once you realize that your need for love is going to be reliably met by the other person, it takes the pressure off you to meet your own needs. And this frees you up to meet the needs of someone else in return. 

But in the early stages, before we reach that level of trust and partnership, we can be so love-starved that we are still subconsciously fixated on meeting our own needs for love. So we try and get that need met as quickly as possible, either by looking for our own qualities to love in another, or by taking on the qualities of another in order to receive affection as soon as possible. We take relational shortcuts. But it’s not genuine love if it involves impersonation. Impersonation is just a cheap imitation of incarnation. But more on that later. The point is, whenever we excessively conform ourselves to others or project ourselves onto others, we are taking unhealthy shortcuts in the pursuit of relational love. 

And we do that as much with God as with anyone else. In a little while we’ll talk about pretending to take on his qualities as a means of earning his affection, but far more often I think we project our identities onto him. We assume God is just like us. Our mannerisms, our temperament, even our limits. Sure, we think he’s more than us. But just like a giant version of us. Same basic proportions. This let’s us not only love our qualities in another person - but even worship them in a deity. And of course that means we do that to Jesus too. He’s just the version of God that’s even more like us because he’s the same size. Just maybe like the perfect version of us. And what we fail to realize is that God is not like us. As image bearers we are a little bit like Him in some really important ways, but at the end of the day he is not like us. 

And even though Jesus, as Hebrews says, “became like us in every way, yet without sin,” that “yet without sin” part means he’s more like the Father than he is like us. Because sin is a bigger deal than we think. And there’s more in common between the Father and the incarnate Son than there is between the incarnate Son and sinful people. And that’ll be the first of our two points this morning, that God is not like us. And the second point, if you’ll be willing to stay with me through the first, is that it is good news for us. So first point, “God is not like us,” second pont, “and that’s good news.”

Point 1: God is Not Like Us

So in the first section of our text today, the Pharisees are confused about who Jesus is and where he gets the authority to speak and act like he does. Remember, the day before he had just cleared out the temple with a whip and condemned the religious leaders  for extorting money out of people by selling sacrificial animals at a ridiculous markup. So they respond, relateably, by asking, “Just who do you think you are to talk to us like that?” And Jesus wise as ever, hits them with a test. He says, “well, if you can tell me where John the Baptist got the authority to baptize, I’ll tell you where I got my authority.” And this put the Pharisees in a bind, because they didn’t believe John was from God but the people did. So if they called John a liar, the people would hate them. But if they said John was from God, they would expose themselves for not believing him.  So they said, “we don’t know.” And Jesus says, basically says, “well then I’m not telling you. Because if you can’t recognize where John got his authority you’ll never understand where I got mine.” The implication being, “Because John and I got it from the same place.” 

Then he tells them two parables. And over the course of these parables he gives them 2 test questions that expose what their hearts are like. And in exposing their hearts, he exposes the difference between them and God. See, they think that God is like them, but he isn’t. And so because they don’t know what God is really like, they aren’t able to recognize those who are sent from him. Does that make sense? 

In the first parable he starts by exposing how different their hearts are from the Father. So he tells this story of a Father with two sons. And the Father tells the two sons to go work in his vineyard for the day. The first son says, “I won’t do it” and he leaves. But then later in the day he feels bad. His conscience begins to bother him. And so he changes his mind and goes to work in the vineyard. The second son lied up front and said he would go work, but then he never went. It doesn’t say he changed his mind like the other son did, just that this one said he would and didn’t. So that’s why I take it as a lie. He never seemed to have any intention of obeying. Then Jesus asks the Pharisees which of the sons does the will of his Father, and they answer that the first one, who changed his mind and went, did. And they are right. They are right because even though the first son initially disobeyed, his heart was ultimately in line with the Father. He wanted, and did, what the Father wanted. The second son, even though he pretended to agree, was nothing like the Father and did not do his will. 

So Jesus says to the Pharisees, I tell you the truth, tax collectors and sinners go to heaven before you, because they believed that John was from heaven. In other words, the people whom you think are the most unclean, the farthest from God, are more like God than you. Because they recognize the righteousness of their Father in John, and they believed him, and repented. Sounds a little bit like, “my sheep hear my voice,” doesn’t it? If you have to ask where John and Jesus are from, it means you aren’t familiar with the God they come from. If you don’t recognize the accent it ain’t your hometown. If you knew him, you would believe them. But he’s unfamiliar to you, even though you think you know him. And that’s because you think he’s like you. But where do I get that the problem is that they think he’s like them? The next parable. 

Now in the second parable, if you’re paying attention, the Pharisees get a major downgrade. Now they aren’t sons, nor are they even hired hands, they are tenants. Still in the vineyard, but not sent there by the Father. Allowed to be there by the Master who owns it. They didn’t build it, they don’t own it. They have no right to it. The Master built it, he’s letting them stay there. And when the Master sends his servants to collect the fruit of the vineyard, which also belongs to him, the tenants beat and stone them. And after the tenants kill the servants, the Master is surprisingly patient. Almost, like, uncomfortably so. Rather than going and killing the tenants to avenge his servants, he puts his son at risk. He says, “surely they will respect my son.” Maybe they didn’t recognize my servants, but surely they will know him. And they did. The tenants recognized the son, saying, “this is the heir… let’s kill him and take his inheritance.” Which is just wild. 

They aren’t saying, “let’s take what he has on him.” An inheritance isn’t something you carry around on a journey, it’s a massive portion of your father’s estate. You have to get it from the father. These tenants are insane. Inheritance is only given to sons. You can’t steal it by killing a son. What are you going to do, take his place and walk up to the father and say, “money please!” An inheritance is something a Father gives a Son, and only a son, because he loves the son. You don’t give inheritances to workers or servants or tenants, you give it to your children. Why? Because you love them more than anyone else. They belong to you, and your portion belongs to them. They are your family. Servants and tenants and workers are not family. Especially not the tenants who killed your family! These violentviolemt, petulant tenants want to be treated as sons by a loving and patient father. But they are not sons. 

But the really crazy thing in this story isn’t the tenants, it’s the patience and kindness of the Father… and of his son. Because 2 chapters later, we found out that the Son knew the tenants would kill him and he went to them anyway. In Matt. 23, reflecting back on this parable, Jesus goes up on a hill overlooking the city and he weeps, saying, “oh Jerusalem! The city which kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered you to myself like a mother hen gathers her brood under her wings, but you were not willing!” And he says, “You will not see me again until you say, ‘blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” Do you see it? The servants were the prophets, and Israel was the tenants. The tenants who would eventually kill the son to try and take his place… while all along God would have treated them as sons. If only they had been willing. Their will was not to do the will of the Father. Instead, their will was to kill the son and try to take the inheritance by force. They are so unlike the actual son who went to them knowing it would cost his life.

And so Jesus exposes this. He says, “what do you think that Father will do when he comes to the vineyard and finds those tenants who killed his sons?” And the Pharisees condemn themselves with their response. But more than that, they expose themselves. They say, “He will put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease out the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the fruit he is owed.” These poor, ignorant men… Jesus had just cursed the fig tree for being barren. He had just cleaned out the temple for being barren of worship. And here they are, in blind ignorance, calling down curses on themselves. 

But you see what Jesus is doing, right? He set them up. He’s doing the Nathan thing. Remember when Nathan the prophet went to King David back in 2 Sam. 12? After David had killed Uriah and took his wife, Nathan went and told David a story of a rich man with many lambs who took the lamb of a poor man and ate it for dinner because he couldn’t be bothered to take one of his own flock. David, having grown up a poor shepherd, was incensed. He was furious. And David said, “as the Lord lives, that man deserves to die.” And Nathan said, “you are the man.” And you know what David did? Well, despite his horrific sin, David was still a man after God’s own heart. Despite his sin, he was still like his Father. And when Nathan said, “You are the man,” David said, “You’re right. I am. I have sinned against God.” 

But when the Pharisees realized that Jesus was talking about them… What did they do? They sought to arrest him. Because they are not like the Father. They are not after his heart. This is why they are mere tenants in the second parable. There is only one Son who is like the Father. The only begotten Son. The one who did the will of the Father by going to give his life is not like the ones who tried to take it. The rest of us are just tenants compared to him. He’s like the Father, and we, like the Pharisees, are not. But listen, I believe that’s good news. Let me tell you why. 

Point 2: Why that is Good News. 

When Jesus asked the Pharisees, “what will the vineyard owner do to these tenants?” The Pharisees made the same mistake over again. Remember, at the time of the question they didn’t get that they were tenants because they still thought of themselves as sons. They thought God was like them. And so they answered that the owner of the vineyard should do what they would do. They said the Master should put those wretches to a miserable death and give the vineyard to someone else. And Jesus says, “you’re right, the Kingdom of God will be taken from you and given to those who produce fruit.” This is when the Pharisees realized they were the tenants in the analogy. 

But they didn’t pick up on the fact that Jesus says only those who fail to see who he is will be crushed. He says the one who falls on or stumbles over the rock which God has made the cornerstone will be crushed. And that is true. But you see the way out, don’t you? Don’t trip over this stone, be built on it. Don’t fall on this stone, rest on it. This is why, a full two chapters later, Jesus goes up the mountain and weeps over Jerusalem, lamenting that they will not come to him as children, talking about how long he has been willing to treat them like children if they would just be willing. But they keep stoning the prophets. And so now that Great Prophet himself has come, like Nathan accusing David, and the prophet has become the stone which crushes those who reject him. But all you have to do is hope in him rather than rejecting him. You want the inheritance? Receive the Son, don’t kill him! You want to be treated as a Son? Become like your Father. I mean even the fact that he’s the cornerstone is perfect. The cornerstone is one of the first stones that is carefully and precisely laid in a foundation and it’s what you line all the others up by so that your building is straight. If there’s a curve in the wall you don’t move the cornerstone, then your whole building will be out of proportion. No, you realign the wall! You need to be brought into conformity with the son! You want to be treated as sons? Be like the Son!

But this feels impossible. You know why it feels impossible? Because it feels like we  would have to give up being ourselves in order to be like God. We, fallen, sinful, angry, vengeful, hateful people, are not. Like. Jesus. To be Him, I’d have to stop being me. And in a very real sense, that’s true. You see we were made to be like Jesus but we fell. We got marred by sin. We are so far out of alignment that building a wall out of us would be like putting an uncut jagged stone in a brick wall. And the worst part is, not only are we out of alignment, but we have decided that our identity is in our brokenness. We name ourselves by our sin. We decide that our deformities are fundamental. That to lose them would be to lose what we are. We can’t picture ourselves as existing without our sin. Our wrath, our hatred, our lust, our fears, our unbelief, our covetousness, our lies. They are us. There is no distinction between our thoughts, our desires, and our identities. If I want it, that want is me. And this is why we are so unlike God. Because we have renamed ourselves. We have rejected the family name of righteousness, made a deadname out of what he made us to be called by. And no I don’t mean the syllables your parents called you at birth, I mean “son and daughter of God.” “Don’t call me that. I am envy. I am anger. I am lust and covetousness. I am bitterness, and unforgiveness. My pronouns are shamed and guilty.”

And then, having thoroughly distorted our identity, we remake God in our image. Because we can’t erase that built in desire to be like him, it means that if we have changed he must too. And so we remake him in our new, broken proportions. And we imagine him to be however we want him to be. Loving only what we love, hating only what we hate. And because I just mentioned pronouns you might think I'm mainly referring to people who reimagine God as being loving when he isn’t but no. Don't lose sight of the fact that this is a passage about Jesus telling the most religious and socially conservative people in society that prostitutes who repent will enter the kingdom before they do. So while sexual sin obviously requires repentance It is also clearly not the worst sin in this text. 

If we sit here calling for God to come back to the vineyard and condemn all the people who remake him in their image then we are the Pharisees, my brothers and sisters. Because we read in wrath where God says mercy and we do it because that is what we are like. We read in unforgiveness where God offers grace because we are unforgiving. Just like the Pharisees unknowingly calling down curses on themselves, “the master should put those wretches to a miserable death.” We are the man. Christ is standing on the mountain overlooking sinful people wishing they would come to him as sons and daughters and we stand here imagining that he’s cold towards them like we are instead of earnestly desiring that they would turn and repent like he says he is. 

But God says to his people, in Malechi 3:8 “I the Lord do not change, therefore you, O Children of Jacob, are not consumed. You have turned aside and have not kept my statutes, therefore return to me and I will return to you, says the Lord.” He says, “if I was like you I would have killed you by now. But I’m not. And that’s good for you. So return to me.” 

Do you know what happened to David? When Nathan came to him and said, “You are the man.” David said, ‘You’re right! I have sinned!” And then he prayed, “Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love. According to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions.” And you know what happened? He was forgiven. He wasn’t crushed. He didn’t die. He lived. And you know what happened to the Pharisees? Jesus said, ‘You are the man.” And they sought to arrest him. And then they did. And then they killed him, following their role in the parable to a T. The tenants killed the son. Surely now. Surely justice will roll down like thunder and he will put these miserable wretches to death. Surely the Day of the Lord is nigh, and sinners will be punished. But just like the Pharisees, anyone who answers this way only exposes how unlike the Father and the Son they truly are. Because that’s not what the Father would do. And I know that because it’s not what he did. Only a little while later, after Jesus had risen and ascended into heaven, Peter - the apostle who rejected Jesus and should himself have then been crushed by the cornerstone, stood up and said this. 

“Men of Judea and all who dwell in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and give ear to my words… this is what was uttered through the prophet Joel:

17 v“‘And in the last days it shall be, God declares, wthat I will pour out my Spirit xon all flesh, and your sons and yyour daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams; even on my male servants and female servants in those days I will pour out my Spirit, and zthey shall prophesy.

And it shall come to pass that ceveryone who calls upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.’ Men of Israel, hear these words: Jesus of Nazareth, da man attested to you by God ewith fmighty works and wonders and signs that gGod did through him in your midst, as you yourselves know— 23 this Jesus,3 hdelivered up according to ithe definite plan and jforeknowledge of God, kyou crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men. 24 lGod raised him up, loosing the pangs of death, because mit was not possible for him to be held by it… Let all the house of Israel therefore know for certain that jGod has made him kboth Lord and Christ, this Jesus lwhom you crucified.”

37 Now when mthey heard this they were cut to the heart, and said to Peter and the rest of the apostles, “Brothers, nwhat shall we do?” 38 And Peter said to them, o“Repent and pbe baptized every one of you qin the name of Jesus Christ rfor the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive sthe gift of the Holy Spirit. 39 For tthe promise is for you and ufor your children and for all vwho are far off, everyone wwhom the Lord our God calls to himself.”

All the rebellious sons and daughters. All the servants. All the wicked tenants who killed the son. He is not like you. Therefore you are not consumed. Rather, you are called under the shelter of his wings. Do not be unwilling anymore. 

You know once you realize that God isn’t like you, and that it means you won’t be able to get your need for love met by loving a divine version of yourself, the next logical step is to try and become like him so that he will be more ready to love you. To pretend to like what he likes. To talk like he talks. Even if you don’t mean it. But that’s just making a religious imposter out of yourself. As if you could kill the son and take his inheritance by taking his place. And it’s almost right but it’s so far off. And the reality is beautifully ironic, that your killing of the son, which you meant for evil, was done according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God. In order that your sin might be atoned for. So that his Holy Spirit might come down and live inside you and give you a new heart with new desires. So that you could be a new person - not less like yourself, but more like you were made to be. More like your Father. More willing to draw near and obey. If that hasn’t happened to you yet then the invitation is not to pretend, it’s to repent and believe, and be born again of water and the baptism of the Holy Spirit. 

You don’t have to pretend to be a son to come to the Father. Remember impersonation is a poor imitation of the Incarnation. You can’t become like God unless he became like you first. Meaning you can’t have his righteousness until he takes on your sin. And if you want that to happen, all you have to do is ask the Father to come down to you, by sending you the Spirit of adoption - the very Spirit of his only begotten Son, to come live in you and make you new. If you find yourself to not be like your Father today would you join me in praying, in the Name of His only Son, for the presence and help of His Holy Spirit in your life now?