I had a busy week with my uncle’s funeral on Tuesday, an Internet outage all day Tuesday and Wednesday morning, and travel to central Nebraska Wednesday night through Thursday. This is an update to a message I preached three years ago (Obedient Sons (Psalm 25:1–9; Matthew 21:23–32) | Sunday Morning Greek Blog) when this gospel passage came up in the Lectionary. Our service planner used the other option for the psalm this time around (Psalm 78), so I repurposed the message to include that psalm instead of Psalm 25. It’s different enough that I thought it deserved its own post. I preached this message on September 27, 2026, at Mount View Presbyterian Church in Omaha.

What does it mean to trust someone? How does it affect your life when you either learn that you can trust a person, especially someone who might be new in your life, like a new significant other in the life of your kids or grandkids? What does it feel like when someone violates your trust?

Our reading from a few verses of Psalm 78 only tells part of the story of how and why Israel should put their faith in God and proclaim his deeds, so I want to take a few moments here to get a big picture of this psalm, which happens to be the second longest psalm in the collection. But we’re only seeing the more positive and encouraging portion of this psalm. First, it’s 72 verses long—don’t worry, I’m not going to read the entire Psalm.

Second, if you were to look at this Psalm in a printed Bible, you would see it has a “subtitle” of sorts: “A maskîl of Asaph.” A maskîl[1] helps us understand the history of God’s people and how we can act wisely based on our knowledge of that history. Asaph’s maskîls are typically targeted at the community of Israel as a whole, while David’s are more inward and reflective of his own spiritual condition.

Third, and this is most important part to understand about the Psalm that ties in with our gospel passage this morning, pretty much the rest of the psalm that comes after the portion we read this morning recounts many of Israel’s historical failures to walk in the covenant that God established for them in Sinai with the Ten Commandments. It’s a hard pill to swallow. Verses 8–11 of Psalm 78 give us a hint of what is to come after the recounting of God’s miracles in the Exodus in verse 12–16. Let’s listen in:

…a stubborn and rebellious generation,

whose hearts were not loyal to God, whose spirits were not faithful to him.

⁹ The men of Ephraim, though armed with bows, turned back on the day of battle;

¹⁰ they did not keep God’s covenant and refused to live by his law.

¹¹ They forgot what he had done, the wonders he had shown them.^[2]

Mixed in with the recounting of Israel’s historic failures are the reminders that God not only punished them, but then forgave them and restored them, only to watch them fail again. It must have been brutal for the readers and hearers to be reminded of this, but sometimes it is necessary to reflect on the low points of our history so we can see how far we’ve come and how much more progress and blessing God has in store for us.

This is the background that ties together our two gospel stories we read this morning. The first passage is an account from the life of Jesus as he encounters the Pharisees and their unfaithfulness. The second is a parable targeted at the Pharisees.

The first story takes place the next day after Jesus has made his triumphal entry into Jerusalem. Do you remember the first thing Jesus did after his triumphal entry? He entered the Temple courts and threw out the money changers! And what did he say when he did that? “My house will be called a house of prayer, but you are making it a den of robbers,” bringing together two quotes from Isaiah 56:7 and Jeremiah 7:11. Because Jesus’s true father is God himself, and the temple is God’s dwelling place on earth, the Temple is also Jesus’s birthright home. He is the earthly steward of the Temple, not the priests or the religious rulers. Jesus’s first act after entering Jerusalem was to establish his authority over and ownership of the Temple as his rightful home. This sets the stage then, for day two, when the chief priests and the elders of the people ask Jesus where his authority comes from.

It’s interesting in this passage that these religious leaders don’t want to engage Jesus on the Scriptures he cited when clearing the temple. The religious leaders are aware that they’ve been using the temple as an excuse to place a financial burden on the people. Instead of addressing that fact, they try to do what? They try to assassinate his character! Sound familiar? But Jesus, ever the shrewd one with the religious leaders, comes back with a question of his own, which puts them in a pinch. Either way they answer it, they know they’re in danger of losing their power with the people and whatever respect the people may have had for them. Jesus had already said that John represented the return of Elijah, so that put John above the religious leaders in the eyes of the people. If John’s authority was from God, the religious leaders should have believed him. If it wasn’t, the people knew better and would most likely rebel against the religious leaders. Only a nonanswer could save their skins in the short run: “I don’t recall.”

Because the religious leaders couldn’t answer Jesus’s question, which was a perfectly legitimate response in Jesus’s day according to the rules of rhetoric in Greek culture, Jesus deferred the answer to his question as well. Of course, Jesus had already demonstrated his authority at the Temple the day before, but he had also been demonstrating it all along with his healings and miracles he’d done in full sight of the people and the religious rulers. Any attempt to damage Jesus’s character would result in the same backlash to the religious rulers as either of their answers about John the Baptizer would have. Jesus’s response, then, helps the religious rulers save face as well.

Jesus was obedient as a son to his Father by defending both the honor of the Temple and his own honor as the true image of God on earth. In the second story from the Gospel reading today, a parable, we have two sons who in that culture would be expected to do their father’s will when asked. The first one says no but then later reconsiders and decides to go anyway. The second one says he will go but he never does. The first and I think most important point from the parable is that God expects us to do his will. There’s really no hiding from that.

At first glance, you might think the parable is about keeping your word to do what you promised. But then, if the son who said he wouldn’t go never actually went, would he really deserve anything for keeping his word if he didn’t do his father’s will? Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? But similarly, the son who said he would go but didn’t is in a bit of double jeopardy. Not only has he not kept his word, but he’s failed to do his father’s will as well.

The point of the parable, then, is not how or when you do God’s will, but THAT you do God’s will. Jesus goes on to continue the comparison to John the Baptizer’s ministry that he began in the first part of our Gospel reading. The religious leaders had not heeded John’s warnings to repent, but the “tax collectors and the prostitutes” did believe him and they repented, thus gaining access to the kingdom of God. Their past didn’t matter. God accepts those who humbly come to him in repentance seeking forgiveness.

But the more amazing thing is that, even after the tax collectors and sinners began to repent and turn back to God, the religious leaders still refused to repent themselves! They could see the work of God happening right before their eyes, but they couldn’t bring themselves to believe it. Jesus says earlier in Matthew that his followers would be known by the fruit they bear. Those who do his will bear good fruit. Those who do not do his will bear no fruit or bad fruit.

It’s not clear why the religious leaders didn’t see the importance of John’s (and Jesus’s) message of repentance. The biblical story is full of examples from the patriarchs and other men of faith who repented and went on to do great things for God.

Abraham took Sarah’s slave as a second wife and had a child by her, but God still allowed the line of his chosen people to descend from Sarah.

Abraham and Isaac both lied to kings about their respective relationships with their own wives, but God continued to propagate that family line as his chosen people.

Moses directly disobeyed God’s command, yet God still allowed him to finish his task of leading the people to the doorstep of the Promised Land.

David committed adultery and had the husband of the woman killed in battle, but God still used him to lead Israel to greatness and write numerous inspiring Psalms that are still with us today.

Solomon had hundreds of wives and concubines, yet God still allowed his wisdom to survive the ages in Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and Song of Solomon.

In Isaiah’s day, Hezekiah repented while Jerusalem was under siege, and he witnessed the miraculous fatal judgment upon 185,000 of Sennacherib’s soldiers overnight.

Every single one of Jesus’s disciples, except for John, abandoned him on the night of his arrest, and Peter denied knowing him, yet all except Judas were restored to leadership status by Jesus after his resurrection. Peter went on to preach at the birth of the church on Pentecost. The teaching of the apostles was the standard of the early church according to Acts 2:42.

Paul persecuted the early church and tacitly approved of the stoning of Steven, yet God used him to spread the Gospel to the Gentiles, and his letters make up about one-fourth of the New Testament text.

Jesus never promised that the path of following him would be without struggle, effort, failure, and heartache. When he says, “My yoke is easy and my burden is light,” we can’t forget that we still have a “yoke” on; there’s still fertile ground to plow, and that takes some measure of strength and effort. In researching this passage, I came across an anonymous Jewish parable that the rabbis used to teach a similar point to this one. It goes like this:

The matter may be compared to someone sitting at a crossroads. Before him were two paths. One of them began in clear ground but ended in thorns. The other began in thorns but ended in clear ground….

So did Moses say to Israel, “You see how the wicked flourish in the is world, for two or three days succeeding. But in the end they will have occasion for regret.” So it is said, “For there shall be no reward for the evil man” (Proverbs 24:20)…. “You see the righteous, who are distressed in this world? For two or three days they are distressed, but in the end they will have occasion for rejoicing.” And so it is said, “That he may prove you, to do you good at the end” (Deuteronomy 8:16). (Sifre to Deut. 53).[3]

Following God may have its thorny patches in the beginning, but when we get to the end of the road, the path is clear and welcoming. But if we try to go our own way, thinking that might be the easier way, and never get on the right path with God, we can only expect trouble in the end. The tax collectors and prostitutes realized they were on the wrong path and changed their ways and their destination. I know many of you have been on the right path, and you’ve experienced your thorny times, but you are stronger, wiser, and more dedicated to God for that because you know he is with you and will continue leading your through those times of growth. Your obedience will yield a great reward. I would encourage you to remain firm and steadfast on that path.

We see how the truths of Psalm 78 play out in these two stories from the Gospel of Matthew. If we put our trust in God and allow him to guide us, even through the most difficult times, we will know his reward and his glory. I pray that each of us here will continue on that straight and narrow path that is the road to eternal life. Peace to you all. Amen.

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^[1] Here’s what Copilot says about maskîls:

🟦 Asaph’s Maskîls (e.g., Psalms 74, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83)

Asaph’s style is:

• Communal — focused on Israel as a whole, not individual experience.
• Liturgical — Asaph was a temple musician; his psalms often fit public worship.
• Historical-theological — he interprets Israel’s past to explain its present.
• Prophetic — he speaks with covenantal authority, sometimes confronting the nation.

Asaph’s Maskîls often feel like: “Let me teach you what God is doing with His people.”

Psalm 78 is the flagship example.

🟩 David’s Maskîls (e.g., Psalms 32, 52, 53, 54, 55, 74, 142)

David’s style is:

• Personal — focused on his own spiritual life, sin, enemies, or suffering.
• Devotional — prayer, confession, lament, trust.
• Psychological — David explores the inner life of faith.
• Experiential wisdom — “Here is what I learned from my trials.”

David’s Maskîls often feel like: “Let me teach you what God taught me.”

Psalm 32 (“Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven…”) is the classic Davidic Maskîl.

^[2] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

^[3] Trans. Jacob Neusner, Sifre to Deuteronomy, vol. 1 (Atlanta: Scholars, 1987), pp. 175‒76.