Go or No?
By Anthony Casperson
8-9-25

In the tabletop game Gloomhaven, a small portion of its playtime sees the characters experience a series of simple events mixed throughout the various game sessions. While the events can be found on both Road Event cards and City Event cards, the gist of each simple event is the same.

The players are presented with a little bit of context, followed by a call for a decision that gives you two choices. For instance, the Road Event card gives the context that the characters are out walking on the road to their next adventure, but along the way a hard rain begins to beat down on them. A small cave opening reveals itself along one cliff nearby. Then a choice is given to the players for what their characters do. A.) Enter the cave and wait out the storm, or B.) Continue on, it’s just a little bit of rain.

After the players have all decided on one option to take, they flip the card over and read the results of that choice. Following our previous event example, the players go with option A. The back of the card says that their choice to enter the small cave opening causes them to realize that the cave is actually much larger than they’d previously thought. And while waiting, they begin to investigate the cave and find a treasure of some sort.

Then, if the players are anything like my friends, they read the other result as well and see if they made the right choice—because one option usually leads to the better result. (This is something that the creative development team attempted to move away from with the sequel game Frosthaven, but that doesn’t work with my point for this blog, which is why I’m talking about Gloomhaven instead.)

A few of the cards get shuffled back into the Road Event or City Event deck. With my friends, there’s one card that’s popped up a couple of times, and we know which option is the right one to pick. You make one mistake and the right choice sticks with you.

The interesting thing, though, is that the final choice doesn’t take place until right before you flip the card. The players can debate and discuss for as long as they desire. But they know that they have to choose one of the two options presented. There is no third option. No debatable method to allow for some other choice.

It’s either Option A or Option B.

This idea of there being two options to choose, with one being much better than the other, is also found in our passage for this week’s blog. We’re moving out of Luke 18—where we’ve been for a couple of weeks—and heading to Matthew 21. We’ll be here for a few of weeks as well, but for this blog we’ll look at verses 23-32.

Our summer series, “Mysteries of the Kingdom,” thus far has taken us throughout much of Jesus’ life on this planet. But as we come to Matt. 21, we find ourselves in the last week of his time living among his creation. As a matter of fact, Jesus has already ridden into the city on a donkey for Palm Sunday. And he’s already cleaned house, flipping tables and driving out the greedy moneychangers who were taking up space in the temple grounds that should be welcoming to Gentile worshippers of God. That was on Monday.

But Matt. 21:23-32 starts with Jesus walking into the temple grounds early Tuesday morning. Some people, I’m sure, we’re giving the side eye to him as he walked by. A number of unimpressed individuals actually walked up to confront Jesus. These were the chief priest and the elders of the people. (Read, the important political leaders who wanted to keep the festival crowds from getting too rowdy in front of the Roman soldiers who occupied the city. People who knew that another stunt like yesterday’s could bring Rome’s sword down on their necks.)

These political and religious elite sought to debate Jesus. And they hoped to reveal Jesus as the fraudulent huckster that they considered him to be. So they ask him by whose authority he does “these things.” To what does “these things” refer? Not only the teaching that he’s been doing throughout the past few years, but even more so they mean that stunt from yesterday.

“By whose authority are you deciding what can and cannot happen on the temple grounds, Jesus? That’s our area of influence. And none of us have asked you to do anything of this sort.”

Well, had they listened yesterday, they would’ve heard that Jesus spoke on behalf of his Father, even quoting the very word of God. But since they obviously had been deafened by their own affronted sensibilities to hear that statement, they asked Jesus directly.

In verse 24, we see that Jesus followed a version of debate that asks a question in order to direct the audience’s train of thought before answering the first proposed question. He said, “Answer my question, and I’ll answer yours.” Essentially, if they get the right answer to his query, then they’d have his answer for theirs.

Jesus asked them from where did John’s baptism come? Was it from heaven or from man? From God, or from his own mind? Notice, it’s either Option A or Option B.

The chief priests huddled up for a mini debate among themselves. What they’d wanted to say was that John the Baptist’s teachings had come from his own addled mind. But there was a big old crowd of John the Baptist enthusiasts throughout the city. If the chief priests claimed that John’s teachings didn’t come from God, then there could be a riot. And that’s what they were trying to prevent.

However, the chief priests could never be seen admitting that John’s teaching was from God. They’d not listened to his words when he’d been alive. And they still weren’t living up to his call for repentance. They’d be caught as the hypocrites that they were, if they admitted that John had been sent from God.

They’d been caught in the trap that they’d tried to set for Jesus. And so, they laid claim to the “smart” choice, Option C. Also known as, “I dunno.”

But Jesus wouldn’t let them get away without realizing that there was no Option C. No third way. It’s A or B. And only one is the correct choice.

In order to better explain his point, Jesus told the story that is our parable for this blog. He said that a man had two sons. (No not those two sons. We already covered that parable.)

The father went to the first son and told him to go out to the vineyard and get to work out there. This son was blatantly disrespectful to his father and said no. But after some time of cooling off and coming to regret those words, this son eventually went out to the vineyard and worked.

While all of that was happening, the father went to his other son and told him to go out to the vineyard and get to work. This son smiled, nodded, and said, “Yes, father.” But then he went on about his business like he’d not been asked directly to do something.

After this short parable, Jesus asked the leaders surrounding him, which of the sons did as the father asked? Option A: The son who disregarded his father at first, but ultimately went out. Or Option B: The son who said yes, but disrespected the father by never heading to the vineyard.

The right answer is obvious. In the long run, it doesn’t matter if a person says no, but eventually does the right thing. They’re the one who obeyed. It just took them a bit longer. As opposed to people like the other son who give lipservice to obedience, and look good on the outside, but never go out to do as they’re asked.

Jesus then smiled at the chief priests likely with an expression that said, “I knew you could get the right answer, if only you’d listen to it.”

The end of verse 31 and verse 32 show Jesus explaining that this is the reason why tax collectors and prostitutes enter the Kingdom of God before any of the chief priests ever would. Those “sinners” might have acted ungodly at one point in time, but they came to realize the mistake of their choice. They regretted the option they’d taken. And so, they’ve gone out to do as the Father asked now that they know better.

But the chief priests only give a good show of faithfulness that exists no longer than it takes to say, “Sure thing.” They have no regret, no repentance. Only self-righteousness of, “At least I agreed to begin with.”

It doesn’t matter if we don’t like either option that God gives us, there will never be an Option C. And searching for one betrays the fact that we’d rather do anything other than the choice we know to be right.

At least with the life that God offers, we don’t have to be stuck with the results of a wrong option. We can learn from the choice. We can regret and repent from past disobedience. And go out to the vineyard even though we’d said no before.

There are a number of life choices that God places before us—a whole series of them, to be honest—and we’re tasked with choosing one of two options. Obey or disobey? Pursue holiness or follow after sin? Go or no?

There is no Option C. The right choice exists. And most of the time, we know which option that right choice is. So, let’s make it. Right away, or after we’ve come back to our senses.

But either way, let’s go. There’s a vineyard to work.