Years ago I lived in a beautiful old house. It had three stories and a creepy-ish basement, some mice, and a lovely wilderness of a backyard. It was the house I lived in on my wedding day.

I managed it for a friend. Some of my roommates were amazing. Some were annoying, and a couple were nuts. The crazy ones were no fun for anyone. They were paranoid and antisocial and they ended up in the house because I was a softy.

I am a little tougher now.

But mostly I think about Jesus. He tells these elegant, terrifying stories of rampant, evil tenants trashing vineyards and killing messengers.

We humans are stubborn like that. We like to ignore the Landlord.

Jesus is reminding us we live in a borrowed house. We don’t love it like the Owner.

But one day we will or…be shocked to find that this borrowed house was not just shelter.

It was our home