جارٍ تحميل الأرشيف الحي.
Part 43 of 44
Wisdom & Wonder, Season 9 Episode 1
واصِل الاستكشاف
مرتبطة بالمقطع الكتابي أو بموضوعات مشتركة.
لم تُترجم هذه الصفحة بالكامل بعد. يظهر بعض النص أدناه أو كله بلغة English، وهي لغته الأصلية.
We're studying through the Book of Matthew, and today we're examining one of Jesus's most challenging parables—one that reveals how God's character often contradicts our human expectations. Before we dive into this passage, let's remember what Jesus taught last week through the parable of the Rich Young Ruler.
A young man came to Jesus asking, "What good deed must I do to have eternal life?" He already understood that Jesus was the one to go to—he recognized Jesus's authority. When Jesus listed the commandments, the young man claimed he had kept them all. But then Jesus said, "If you would be perfect, go sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasures in Heaven."
Perfection is the prerequisite to get to heaven. The moral law is perfect, and Christ is the only one who has reached that perfection. That's why we honor him the way we do—because there's no getting to heaven without him.
When the young man heard this, he went away sorrowful because he had great possessions. Jesus then told his disciples, "It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God."
The disciples were astonished. In the Old Testament—in Deuteronomy—blessings are equated to riches, possessions, and land. But Jesus was saying something different. Peter then asked, "We have left everything and followed you. What then will we have?"
Jesus's answer was simple: Eternity is your reward. Not possessions. Not immediate gain. Eternity.
Many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.
Jesus was preparing to illustrate this truth through a parable.
A parable is a story used to illustrate moral and spiritual lessons. Jesus used parables as a form of judgment—to reveal truth to those willing to hear it, and to conceal truth from those with hard hearts who reject it. The religious leaders rejected Jesus's teaching as heresy because they felt it contradicted the Old Testament. But Jesus said, "I have not come to abolish the law but to fulfill it." He came to expand our understanding, to broaden our horizons and show us the depths of Scripture—depths that reach into the human heart.
For the Kingdom of Heaven is like a Master of the House who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his Vineyard. After agreeing with the laborers for a denarius a day, he sent them into the vineyard.
Let me point out what these symbols represent:
As you listen to this parable, keep this in the back of your mind: Eternity. Eternity. Eternity. That should play over and over as you read Scripture. Your reward is not what you get today—it's eternity with God.
The Master goes out and hires laborers, pulling them into the church to serve. These first laborers make an agreement: one denarius a day.
Going out about the third hour, he saw others standing idle in the marketplace. To them he said, "You go into the vineyard too, and whatever is right I will give you." So they went. Going out again about the sixth hour and the ninth hour, he did the same. And about the eleventh hour, he went out and found others standing, and he said to them, "Why do you stand here idle all day?" They said to him, "Because no one has hired us." He said to them, "You go into the vineyard too."
Now we have two different groups of laborers:
They had to have some understanding of who this master was. They had to know his character to trust him. When they saw him in the marketplace and he asked why they were idle, they said no one had hired them. And what would make a man stand in the hot sun all day, hoping and praying someone would hire them? They had families at home. If you don't work, you don't eat.
But here's what strikes me: the master only went out in the morning. He never went out again. So how did the others know about this opportunity? They trusted him based on his character and his reputation.
The typical work day was twelve hours, from sunrise to sunset—generally 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. Let me break down the hiring schedule:
So the eleventh-hour workers barely worked at all.
When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his foreman, "Call the laborers and pay them their wages, beginning with the last, up to the first."
Here's something important: the master pays the eleventh-hour workers first. The foreman goes down and starts handing out denarius after denarius after denarius.
Now, imagine you're one of the six o'clock workers. You're thinking, "We've been here all day. We're about to get paid. In that society, if a man works all day, he gets paid extra. I know what I've done. I know what I'm worth."
You're watching the foreman hand out denarius, denarius, denarius to these one-hour workers. Your anticipation is building. But then something happens.
When those hired about the eleventh hour came, each of them received a denarius. And when those hired first came, they thought they would receive more, but each of them also received a denarius. And on receiving it, they grumbled at the Master of the House, saying, "These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat!"
They're outraged. "What?! You're paying them the same as us?"
But here's what we often do in our relationship with God: we make agreements. We make deals.
Lord, I'm going to write a book. That's my agreement with you. Lord, I'm going to get a car. That's my agreement. Lord, I'm going to buy a house. That's my agreement.
We lock God into our vision board. We say, "This is what I'm going to do for you, and here's what I expect in return." But these laborers made an agreement with God, and he gave them exactly what they deserved. The problem is that we're so locked into what we want to do that we don't see what God wants to do for us.
Here's the truth: whenever you try to lock God into an agreement, you're going to lose. Because what you're really saying is, "What I'm trying to do is better than what you're trying to do."
But the one-hour workers never made an agreement. They said, "Good master, let your will be done in our lives. Pay us what you decide." And look what happened—the master's generosity was lavish, generous, and unearned.
Why do we get jealous when we see somebody else get elevated? Because we've locked ourselves into an agreement. We think, "I worked harder. I deserve more."
But the master says something powerful: your elevation has nothing to do with them. You made an agreement. You got what you agreed to. You're good. You signed the contract. Go your way.
But this person—this person is hungry. This person trusts me. This person doesn't know what I'm going to give them, but they trust my character. And I'm going to do all things with this person because they understand who I am.
A lot of times we lose out on God because we don't recognize his character. He's not going to hurt you. He's a good Father.
I know a lot of us may not have a good framework for what "father" means. But you want to know how I learned? By reading the Scripture. By reading who Jesus is. The real man is formed, not by outside influence, but by reading Scripture—learning how to pray, how to give, how to treat your brothers and sisters, how to do anything you want to do in this life.
I remember one time I was disciplining my daughter. She was probably four years old, and I was being harsh—yelling, hitting. But the Lord flashed an image in my mind of how my father used to discipline me, and I stopped. The Lord said, "Don't you ever discipline like that again. You sit her down. You explain to her what she did wrong. You walk her through the Scripture. You teach her how she's supposed to respond—not with wildness and anger."
I learned that from Jesus Christ, the real Man of God, the real Father. And he will heal all those wounds if you just trust him.
Here's the whole problem with everything: and here's the answer. When Peter asked Jesus, "What do we get?" Jesus essentially asked, "Do you want possessions or do you want me?" If you want possessions right now, go get them. Jesus will send you on your way. He's not going to fight with you. He died on the cross—that's enough. He's not going to fight anymore.
He has given us free will. He didn't want a robot. He wanted somebody to love him authentically for who he is and what he does.
Read the Gospels. Stop asking other people what God is like. Read the Gospels yourself. When you feel discouraged, when you feel like you don't know God, read the Gospels. Put yourself in the Gospels. Ask the Holy Spirit to do a work in your sinful flesh—because you can't do it alone.
Therapy is great. I recommend it. But it can't transform your soul. Talking to your brother and sister is great, but it can't either. Those are supplements. But you have to get transformation in your heart first. You have to get that love for Jesus first. And then you run after him.
I want to offer something to the unbeliever in this room, online, and in the overflow: stop running.
You don't have an understanding or idea of when this life will come to an end. You're going to stand before the King, and he's going to tell you, "Depart from me, you worker of iniquity. I never knew you." You don't want that to be his response.
Don't come to these gatherings playing around. Week in and week out, you've been here six months, seven months, eight months, nine months. What are you waiting for?
I had a conversation with my daughter. She's nineteen, and she said, "Dad, there ain't nothing out here. I'm just ready to go to Glory. I want peace. I don't want to fight my sin anymore."
What are you waiting for? He's a good Father, and his arms are open to you. I beg you to repent of all your sins, all of your unrighteousness. Let him fill you with his Spirit. He's made the ultimate sacrifice in blood. The pathway is in blood—that moral righteousness, that moral perfection. He has done it all.
In Revelation, John starts crying because there's no one worthy to open the seal, and an angel tells him, "Don't cry anymore. There is someone worthy—the Lamb that was slain." That Lamb is calling and beckoning to you. Stop waiting.
He replied to one of them, "Friend, I am doing you no wrong. Did you not agree with me for a denarius? Take what belongs to you and go. I choose to give to this last worker as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or do you begrudge my generosity? So the last will be first, and the first will be last."
The laborers have no valid complaint. They have lost nothing. They received their fair wage—the wage they agreed upon.
God doesn't want us to make agreements with him. He's not a bargainer.
We cry out, "Abba, he's a good Father." So why don't we use that outside of these four walls? He's not here to bargain with you. He loves you. He has the best intentions for you. So why are we so afraid?
Don't get me wrong—I'm not acting like I have it all together. Every time I pray, I listen and move forward... actually, no. I struggle. I struggle with hearing God's voice. "Was that really God?" "Lord, I'm not sure." And I sit there frozen, not taking steps, even though I know he told me to do something. We all do it.
You know why? Sin and flesh. The flesh automatically thinks you know better. But when I get in those moments, I have to realize: I don't know better. That's why it's called faith.
You have to take steps of faith. You will never realize your true potential until you take steps of faith. I never would have imagined I'd be doing what I'm doing—until I started putting out those flags you see, until I started getting up at 5 a.m. and setting up chairs.
God's plan is to discover—and that keeps you tethered to him. It's this beautiful dance that goes back and forth.
You have to take steps of faith with the Lord. There's no way around it. If he speaks to your heart and you say, "Lord, I don't know if it's you, but I'm going to step out anyway"—that's faith.
Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Am I not allowed to elevate who I choose to elevate? Am I not allowed to give a million dollars to whoever I want? Am I not allowed to take a million dollars from whoever I want?
We've got God twisted. We're trying to bend his arm, to make him do something for us. But that's not the God of the Bible.
Back in ancient times, if you walked into the king's court unannounced, you could be killed. But we approach the King of Kings carelessly, as if we're entitled to his gifts. We forget his sovereignty.
Do you begrudge my generosity?
That word "begrudge" means to have an evil eye—a jealousy and grudging spirit that looks at others enviously. We all know what that feels like. I want that thing bad, and when I see someone else with it... I have to catch myself and say, "Thank you, Lord, for what I have. Thank you for this paid-for 2010 Charger. I'm going to keep it clean and keep riding."
The master has all the right to be generous with what is his. We cannot complain about what the Lord is doing in someone else's life. And we can never take possessions and make them equal to God—because eternity is much greater.
The greatest gift you could ever have is a gift. It's not something you earned. There was no agreement. He did all the work. We just came into his presence, and he accepted us.
Why would he accept a wreck like me? I never would have thought it. Never would have imagined, growing up in Philly. I thought I was going to be dead at twenty-one. I lived reckless and wild because I didn't have an understanding of who I was and what my identity was. I just thought I was going to die, so I lived carelessly and recklessly.
But in my twenties, I was laying in bed one day. I was selling drugs, had a big house to myself, had money saved up, had women—I was doing all this stuff. But I didn't even know the Lord. And there was something in me, just this... and I'd lay in bed and say, "Lord, is this it? Just tell me right now if this is it. I'll just keep hustling in these streets."
I didn't know the Lord. I didn't have a framework of who God was. But when I think back on that, I think about Paul on the road to Damascus. He immediately knew who was speaking to him. He said, "Lord!" I immediately knew who was speaking to me."
I offer that right now to the unbeliever: Stop running. You don't have an understanding of when this life will end.
We are not home. This is not your home. We are sojourners walking through this life. Stop trying to build your whole life here. Stop trying to grab everything now. Grab as many people as possible unto the Ark of Safety. Stop being so attached to this life.
Stop looking at what other people are doing. God wants to do a marvelous work in your life—just for you and you alone. Forget what's on the left. Forget what's on the right. He wants to do that work for you.
Go into your prayer time and say, "Father Abba, I'm here. What do you want to do with me?"
You don't need this whole recitation: "Lord, thank you for X, Y, and Z, and can I get this, this, and this..." No. Sometimes just go into his presence. "Lord, I'm just going to sit here and wait for you." Even if he doesn't say anything, all you need is one word from him. One whisper. That's all you need.
