Matthew 21:30

There follows the disobedience of the second: and first the command is presented, secondly the transgression. He says "coming to the other," that is, the Jewish people, or the clergy, or those who call themselves just; "he said in like manner. And he answering said: …

He introduces two types of men. One type are those who promised from the beginning: such were the Jews who said, "All which God spoke, we will do and we will obey" (Ex. 24:3). The other type are those who disobeyed: such are the publicans …

He answered, I go, sir: but went not - Just so did the scribes and Pharisees: they professed the greatest readiness and zeal in the service of God: but it was bare profession, contradicted by all their actions.

And he came to the second,.... The Scribes and Pharisees, by the ministry of John the Baptist, Christ, and his apostles also: and said likewise; the same things as to the other son, the publicans and sinners; calling them into the Gospel dispensation, to hear the word, embrace truth, attend on ordinances, and labour in promoting the kingdom, and interest of the Messiah, whilst they had the light of the Gospel with them.

I go, sir - This is all respect, complaisance, and professed, obedience; but he went not: he promised well, but did not perform. What a multitude of such are in the world, professing to know God, but denying him in their works! Alas! what will such professions avail, when God comes to take away the soul?

THE father had a right to the services of both his sons, for they were, according to the strict rendering of the word, children, or young men under age. They depended upon him for everything, so they were bound to obey his commands. He did not lay upon them any very heavy tax. He simply asked that they should set to work in his vineyard and go at once, seeing that, probably, there was need for the vines there and then to have their earnest attention.

And he came to the second, and said likewise. And he answered and said, I go, sir--"I, sir." The emphatic "I," here, denotes the self-righteous complacency which says, "God, I thank thee that I am not as other men" (Lu 18:11). and went not--He did not "afterward repent" and refuse to go; for there was here no intention to go.

THE SIGHT OF THIS VAST ARENA, and of this crowded assembly, reminds me of other spectacles which, in days happily long past, were seen in the amphitheatres of the old Roman Empire. Around, tier upon tier, were the assembled multitudes, with their cruel eyes and iron hearts; and in the center stood a solitary, friendless man, waiting till the doors of the lion’s den should be uplifted, that he might yield himself up a witness for Christ and a sacrifice to the popular fury.

These verses contain a conversation between our Lord Jesus Christ and the chief priests and elders of the people. Those bitter enemies of all righteousness saw the sensation which the public entry into Jerusalem, and the cleansing of the temple, had produced. At once they came about our Lord, like bees, and endeavored to find occasion for an accusation against him. Let us observe in the first place how ready the enemies of truth are to question the authority of all who do more good than themselves.

These verses contain a conversation between our Lord Jesus Christ and the chief priests and elders of the people. Those bitter enemies of all righteousness saw the sensation which the public entry into Jerusalem, and the cleansing of the temple, had produced. At once they came about our Lord, like bees, and endeavored to find occasion for an accusation against him. Let us observe in the first place how ready the enemies of truth are to question the authority of all who do more good than themselves. The chief priests have not a word to say about our Lord’s teaching: they make no charge against the lives or conduct of himself or his followers. The point on which they fasten is his commission: “By what authority are you doing these things? And who gave thee this authority?” The same charge has often been made against the servants of God when they have striven to check the progress of ecclesiastical corruption. It is the old engine by which the children of this world have often labored to stop the progress of revivals and reformations. It is the weapon which was often brandished in the face of the Reformers, the Puritans, and the Methodists of the last century. It is the poisoned arrow which is often shot at city missionaries and lay agents in the present day. Too many care nothing for the manifest blessing of God on a man’s work, so long as he is not sent forth by their own sect or party. It matters nothing to them that some humble laborer in God’s harvest can point to numerous conversions of souls through his instrumentality; they still cry, “By what authority doest thou these things?” His success is nothing: they demand his commission. His cures are nothing: they want his diploma. Let us neither be surprised nor moved when we hear such things. It is old charge which was brought against Christ himself. “There is no new thing under the sun” ( Ecclesiastes 1:9 ).

THE SIGHT OF THIS VAST ARENA, and of this crowded assembly, reminds me of other spectacles which, in days happily long past, were seen in the amphitheatres of the old Roman Empire. Around, tier upon tier, were the assembled multitudes, with their cruel eyes and iron hearts; and in the center stood a solitary, friendless man, waiting till the doors of the lion’s den should be uplifted, that he might yield himself up a witness for Christ and a sacrifice to the popular fury. There would have been no difficulty then to have divided the precious from the vile in that audience. The most thoughtless wayfarer who should enter into the amphitheatre, would know at once who was the disciple of Christ and who were the enemies of the Crucified One. There stood the bravely-calm disciple, about to die, but all around, in those mighty tiers of the Colosseum, or of the amphitheatre of some provincial town, as the case might be, there sat matrons and nobles, princes and peasants, plebeians and patricians, senators and soldiers, all gazing downward with the same fierce, unpitying look; all boisterous for their heathen gods, and all vociferous in the joy with which they gazed upon the agonies of the disciple of the hated Galilean, butchered to make a Roman holiday. Another sight is before us to-day, with far more happy associations; but alas! it is a far more difficult task this day to separate the chaff from the wheat, the precious from the vile, than in the day when the apostle fought with beasts at Ephesus.

THE father had a right to the services of both his sons, for they were, according to the strict rendering of the word, children, or young men under age. They depended upon him for everything, so they were bound to obey his commands. He did not lay upon them any very heavy tax. He simply asked that they should set to work in his vineyard and go at once, seeing that, probably, there was need for the vines there and then to have their earnest attention. "Son," he said to the first, "'go work today in my vineyard'—do not toil for a stranger, nor for some master at a distance, but work in my vineyard. You are my son, you have a share in the fruit of the vineyard, so go at once, while your services will be the most valuable, and work in my vineyard." The son replied, "I won't," for that expression, in its bluntness and brevity, gives more nearly the sense of the Greek than even our rendering, "I will not." "I won't." That is a straight, positive, plain refusal. Notice that there is not even the word, "Sir," to soften the reply. The second son said, "I go, Sir." But this first one did not say, "I will not, Sir," but just, "I won't." And that was the end of it. "But afterward," though he had thus spoken so rudely, unkindly and willfully against his father, "he repented and went." And I daresay, by his zeal and industry, he accomplished a good day's work. Though the day began so badly, it ended all right. Now, I feel persuaded that there are here some persons like this elder son, Here and there is one or another who has said, "I won't," as plainly and as rudely as they could. From their very childhood they cast off parental restraint and when they became more completely masters of themselves and the Gospel was preached to them, each of them very distinctly said, "I won't." Some said, "We won't hear it." They became Sabbath-breakers.