Politics. Hard to get away from it, isn’t it? Every week seems to be filled with even more disruption and chaos than the week before. And violence and injustice always seem to be right smack in the middle of it.

This week, in particular, feels as disruptive and chaotic as any we’ve seen in a while. Unprecedented infighting in Congress and outrageous attacks and hostage-taking in Israel leave the world feeling even more politically charged, even more tenuous than usual. Quite a few people paid a heavy price just for being in the wrong place when trouble came.

But Jesus knows the price you pay when you find yourself in this kind of politics.

You may remember that at the beginning of the twenty-first chapter of Matthew, the chapter in our Gospel for today, Jesus rides into Jerusalem to the cheers of the adoring crowds. “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.”

That’s pretty heady stuff for a small-town boy from the sticks. Jesus appears to be quite popular on the political scene. Matthew tells us that “when he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil” (21:10).

So, you’d think Jesus would’ve been in a better mood. Because what does he do immediately after he autographs campaign posters and kisses the requisite number of babies?

Matthew says, “Then Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money changers” (21:12).

Where does that come from? It looks like Jesus has revolution on his mind since the Temple, at this point, operated as a religious front for the Roman procurator, Pilate. Turning over the money changers’ table was a symbolic slap in the face to the Temple elite and the political system that let them thrive.

Then, if raining on the Temple’s Bingo night wasn’t bad enough, the first thing the next morning, being hungry, Jesus sees a fig tree. He’s going to get a little something to tide him over until breakfast. But alas, he’s found the Charlie Brown fig tree—all spindly and fruitless.

In what looks like a fit of pique, Jesus curses the tree, confounding the disciples. “What’s his problem? We thought things were going pretty well. If yesterday’s any indication, we’re trending upward in the key battleground states. Jesus, you ought to be happy. Why so cranky?”

So, Jesus goes to the temple a second time. You can imagine the disciples shooting each other anxious looks. “We just did this. And if memory serves, we didn’t make any friends.”

And they’re right. A bit annoyed by yesterday’s little outburst, the temple leaders ask Jesus, “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” (21:23). He refuses to tell them what they ask. Still, he does agree to tell them some parables.

Our passage for this morning is the second of these parables—listed among the parables of judgment. Having witnessed Jesus’ mood, we’re not at all surprised at them being classified as parables of judgment.

But why the sudden mood change—from triumph on Sunday to judgment on Monday?

I suspect it has something to do with Jesus’ political instincts. While everybody in his entourage sees only palm branches and victory parades, Jesus knows by their reaction that they’ve misunderstood what his ministry is all about. They see inaugural galas, but he sees controversy and plummeting polling data.

Why?

Because Jesus seems to be the only one aware that he’s not running an election campaign, he knows that his job is telling the truth—and we all know how hard it is to get anywhere in politics if you happen to be overly attached to the truth.

No, he’s got a tough job in front of him—and he seems to be the only one who realizes it. He alone seems aware of how much his messiahship will ultimately cost.

Which brings us to our Gospel for today. Jesus tells a story about a man who planted a vineyard. Now, this wasn’t just any vineyard. The owner put a fence around it, contracted with ADT to monitor it against the riffraff—put in a new high-tech winepress, and a guard gate at the front entrance with motion detectors and retinal scanners.

But the owner’s an entrepreneur. He’s not in it to make wine; he’s going to lease the place—which he does to some folks whose credit scores come back in the high 700s. Then, the owner takes a little vacation to Florence to visit the museums.