Over the last five Sundays we have had similar scripture readings. These are known as crisis parables, parables in which Jesus confronts his listeners with a choice. There are two contexts if you like. We are reaching the end of Matthew's gospel, the 21st chapter of 28 in all. So as Jesus approaches Jerusalem and his death, his teachings take on a new urgency. He and they have reached a cross-roads: they can follow him to Jerusalem, or remain at home and unchanged.

But the readings have another context too which is equally urgent. Matthew is writing some years after the death of Jesus. The crisis has arrived in Judaism. Are these followers of Jesus Jews, or have they started something new? The local synagogue has to make a decision. Increasingly the Christians are expelled and ostracised. Matthew tells his people that Jesus had prepared them for this day, that this is the treatment and persecution they were told to expect.

You will recall that last Sunday's readings also involved the Master's Vineyard. Those who arrived in the vineyard at the 11th hour received the same wage as those who had borne the burden in the heat of the day. Today's extract involves the two sons of the Master. The first refuses, but later changes his mind and does his Father's bidding. The second readily agrees to work in the vineyard, but he never actually shows up there. Matthew tells us that Jesus is addressing the chief priests and the elders of the people. They represent the general body of Jewish people, the people who first said 'Yes' to the Master. But their actions did not match their words. Their righteousness and their self-confidence prevented them from delivering on the promised 'Yes'. The other group, the tax collectors and the prostitutes, seemed to have refused initially, to have rejected the Master's invitation. Yet they were the very ones who eventually delivered.

A priest and playwright from the Dublin Diocese wrote a play for TV some years ago. The play concludes with a portrayal of the Last Judgement. The peoples of every race and language had assembled at the Pearly Gates, waiting for the selection process to begin. St Peter arrives on a big Harley Davidson motorbike, clipboard in hand. He dismounts, throws the gates wide open and looks around. 'Now', he says, 'could we have the thieves and the murderers first?' Of course no one moves. 'Well, what about some prostitutes and pimps?' he says, and so on right down through the whole catalogue of human nastiness.

When no one moves he asks the reason. Some of the people begin to complain. 'This is far too easy', they say. 'This isn't fair! Surely you are not letting in this sort of riff-raff?' Peter nods his head. 'Yes, everybody', he says. The people look at one another in disbelief. 'If this is the sort of trash you are accepting here, I would rather not go in', says a man at the head of the queue. The others agree. The second rebellion of heaven is about to break out when the Lord himself appears. He reminds them that they have just judged themselves by their attitudes towards the least of his brothers and sisters.

Now this does not make sense, nor does it sound fair to our notion of justice, but it is God who ultimately makes the rules of acceptance. As our first reading puts it: "You object, What the Lord does is unjust? Listen Israel, is it not what you do that is unjust? "

Ultimately, we condemn ourselves; we are not condemned by God.

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