03.08. LABORERS IN THE VINEYARD. FIRST LAST AND LAST FIRST

LABORERS IN THE VINEYARD. FIRST LAST AND LAST FIRST

Matthew 20:1-16 The key to this parable is found in the question to which it was the answer, and in the circumstances which suggested that question. A young man of high character and still higher aspirations, but of unfortunately great wealth, had recognized in Jesus a teacher who in His own person and demeanor bore evidence that He understood how man could attain to the highest ideal. He accordingly introduced himself to our Lord as one who was bent upon achieving the highest human attainment, and who was only anxious to know what more could be done beyond what he had already accomplished. But on learning that for him the path to perfection lay through the abandonment of his great possessions, he felt that this was more than he could do, and turned away ashamed and wretched. As he passed out of sight, our Lord, sympathizing with the severity of his temptation, turned to His disciples, and with His usual form of strong asseveration, said, “Verily I say unto you, that a rich man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of heaven.” When Peter saw how keenly the Lord appreciated the difficulty of giving up property and detaching oneself from familiar comforts and employments, he suggested that those who overcame this difficulty were peculiarly meritorious. “Behold,” he says, “we have forsaken all and followed Thee: what shall we have therefore?” But in asking this question Peter betrayed precisely that disposition which most thoroughly vitiates all service of Christ, the disposition to bargain, to work for a clearly defined reward and not for the sake of the work itself and in generous trust in the justice and liberality of the Master. Peter had to all appearance made, so far as was possible in his circumstances, the very sacrifice which the rich young man had declined to make; but if a sacrifice is made merely for the sake of winning for oneself some greater gain, then it is no longer a sacrifice but a bargain. Love and trust are of the essence of sacrifice. Peter had left his home, his boat and fishing gear, and all the pleasant associations of the lake: he had torn himself up by the roots; but if he had done so not from simple love of Christ which found its ample reward in His company, but with a clear understanding that he would have a good return in kind for all he had given up, then he was perhaps premature in so complacently comparing himself with the rich young man. It is the motive which gives virtue to any sacrifice or service. The spirit which asks what compensation is to be made for every sacrifice, is self-regarding, mercenary, greedy, not generous, trustful, loving: it confounds two things diametrically different, bargain and sacrifice. The Lord’s answer to Peter’s question is twofold. He first assures His followers that they shall have ample compensation for all present loss. Sharing with Him in work, they shall share in His reward. The results He works for shall be theirs as well as His. But having given them this assurance. He takes occasion to rebuke the disposition to bargain, the somewhat craven spirit that sought to be quite sure it would take no harm by following Him. And he warns them against comparing their sacrifices and services with those of other men, affirming that many who, like the apostles, were called at the very beginning of the Lord’s ministry, and were first not only in point of time, but in eminence of service, and who might therefore seem sure of a conspicuous and exceptional reward, will after all be found no better off than those whose expectations have been extremely meager. “Many shall be last that are first, and first that are last.”

It was to illustrate this statement that the parable of the laborers in the vineyard was spoken. This is the point of its teaching to which all else is subordinate. The nature of the work in the vineyard and its exhausting toil; the unwearied compassion of the Lord of the vineyard, going out hour after hour to invite the unemployed; these and all other details are but the feathers of the arrow helping it to fly straight to its mark; but the point is, that those who were first hired were last paid and least paid, and this because the first-hired entered on their work in a bargaining spirit and merely for the sake of winning a calculated and stipulated remuneration, whereas the late-hired laborers did their work in faith, not knowing what they were to get, but sure they would not get less than they deserved. The parable, then, is intended to show us the difference between work done in a bargaining spirit and work done in trust; between the reward given to work which in quantity may be very great but in motive is mercenary, and the reward given to work which in quantity may be very small, but in motive is sound. It directs attention to the fact that in estimating the value of work we must take into consideration not only the amount done or the time spent upon it, but the motive that has entered into it. It is this which God chiefly regards. One hour of trustful, humble service is of greater value to God than a lifetime of calculating industry and self-regarding zeal. A gift that is reckoned by thousands of pounds; an ecclesiastical endowment that makes a noise through a whole generation; a busy, unflagging, obtrusive zeal which makes itself seen and felt throughout a whole land, these things make a great impression upon men — and it is well if they do not make a great impression on the parties themselves who do them and prompt them inwardly to say, “What shall we have therefor”— but they make no impression upon God unless animated by a really devoted spirit. While men are applauding the great workers who ostentatiously wipe the sweat from their brows and pant so that you can hear them across the whole field, God is regarding an unnoticed worker, who feels he is doing little, who is ashamed that any one should see his work, who bitterly regrets he can do no more, who could not name a coin small enough to pay him, but who is perfectly sure that the Master he serves is well worth serving. It is thus that the first become last and the last first. That we are meant to see this difference of spirit in the laborers is obvious alike from the terms of their respective engagements, from the distribution of the wages, and from the temper shown by the last paid men.

1. First, the parable is careful to state that those who were hired early in the day made an agreement to work for a stipulated sum. This sum was the usual day’s wage of the period: a fair wage, which of itself was sufficient inducement to work. These men were in a condition to make their own terms. They ruled the market. At four or five in the morning the laborers in a hiring market have a keen sense of their own value, and are in no mood to sell themselves cheap. The masters and stewards have a very hard time of it as they are hooted from knot to knot of lusty fellows with the pride of the morning in their faces, and strive in vain to pick up labor at a reasonable figure. No man in the market at that hour engages without making his own terms, without saying what So-and-so offers, without knowing to a halfpenny what he will have, and striking hands with his hirer as his equal. The laborer means to make a good thing of it for himself; if he does not like the look of one steward he chooses another, if he thinks one master’s pay too little he waits for a better offer. He is not going to work all day to oblige some neighboring proprietor, he is going to work to make a good wage for himself. It’s hot, hard, thirsty work, but it pays. But in the evening the tables are turned. The masters now have it all their own way. It’s no longer, “Will you give us more than So-and-so? what will you offer?” but “We’ll leave that to you, sir; supper and a bed at the most is all we can expect. There’s scarcely time to get to your place, but we’ll hurry and do our best, if you’ll have us at all.” Possibly these men were the proudest in the morning, and missed their chance. Group after group of men has been detailed off at various hours, and now the shadows begin to lengthen; their pride gives place to hunger and anxious thoughts of the coming night. They are beginning to have gloomy thoughts of lying down in the darkness, with no food to refresh them, no roof to shelter, no promise of more work from an appreciative master, no pleasant talk and song with their comrades in the vintage. But as the day wears desolately away, and as now the hard task-masters are heard on all sides beating down the wages of the jaded hirelings, there rises the considerate voice of this good and upright householder, “Go ye also into my vineyard, and whatsoever is right, that shall ye receive.” In no condition to make a bargain, they most gladly trust themselves to one whose words have the ring of truth. They go, glad to get work on any terms; they go, not knowing what they are to get, but quite sure they are in good hands. They go humble, trusting, and grateful; the others went proud, self-confident, mercenary.

2. Secondly, the same difference in the spirit in which each set of laborers had entered on their work is implied in the striking scene which ensued at the close of the day. Those who had barely got their work begun were first paid, and were paid a full day’s wage. There must, of course, have been a reason for this; it was not mere caprice, but was the result and expression of some just idea. It could not be that these late-hired laborers had done as much in their one hour as the others in twelve; for the others, those who had worked the full day, are conscious of having done their work well. No hint is given that they were less skilful or less zealous than the late-hired men. We are thrown back, therefore, for the explanation on the hint given in the hiring, namely, that those who wrought merely for the sake of pay received the pay they looked for, while they who came to the vineyard conscious that they had wasted their day and not daring to stipulate for any definite wage, but leaving themselves confidently in the hands of a master they believed in, were gladdened by the unmerited reward of the fullest wage. The men who bargained were paid according to their bargain; the men who trusted got far more than they could have dared to bargain for. The principle is more easily understood because we ourselves so commonly act upon it. The man who bargains and must have everything in black and white, and thus shows that in working for you it is himself he is looking after and seeking to profit, gets every penny he bargained for, but not a penny beyond; whereas the man who fears his work may not please you, but, if you wish it, will try and do his best, and says not a word about pay — to this man you give as much as you decently can, and always more than he is expecting. What you relish and reward, God also relishes and rewards. It is work done with some human feeling in it that you delight in. What you give out to be done at a certain rate you accept and pay for, but take no heed of him who does it. There is nothing personal between you. He does not work for you, but for his wage. His work may be most important and thoroughly well done, it may bear the mark of time and toil upon it, but it is the work of a hireling with whom you are quits when you pay him what he contracted to receive.

3. Thirdly, the same difference of spirit among the laborers is brought out in the envious and grudging temper of the first hired and last paid men. Peter must have felt himself gravely rebuked by the picture here drawn of the man who had listened to the first call of Christ, but who, after a full, honest day’s work, was found to be possessed of a selfish, grudging spirit that filled him with discontent and envy. It was now plain that this early-hired laborer had little interest in the work, and that it was no satisfaction to him to have been able to do twelve times as much as the last-hired laborer. He had the hireling’s spirit, and had been longing for the shadow and counting his wages all day long. English sailors have been known to be filled with pity for their comrades whose ships only hove in sight in time to see the enemy’s flag run down, or to fire the last shot in a long day’s engagement. They have so pitied them for having no share in the excitement and glory of the day that they would willingly give them as a compensation their own pay and prize-money. And the true follower of Christ, who has listened to the earliest call of his Master and has reveled in the glory of serving Him throughout life, will from the bottom of his heart pity the man who has only late in life recognized the glory of the service, and has had barely time to pick up his tools when the dusk of evening falls upon him. It is impossible that a man whose chief desire was to advance his Master’s work, should envy another laborer who had done much less than himself. The very fact that a man envies another his reward is enough of itself to convict him of self-seeking in his service. The difference in the spirit of the workers which is thus brought out in the parable will be found, says our Lord, in the Church, and it will be attended with like results at the time of judgment and award. Here also “many that are first shall be last,” not all, but many; so commonly will this be exemplified that there must be something in the nature of the case inducing it. Many who have done the largest works shall receive the smallest reward. Many first in man’s esteem shall be last in God’s reckoning. Many who have borne the burden and heat of the day, who have been conspicuous in the work of the church, whose names are identified with certain charities or philanthropic institutions will be rated below j obscure individuals who have almost no work at all to point to. Many who have served longest in the Lord’s vineyard have a consciousness that they are the great workers, which likens them to the self-complacent Peter rather than to the humble, trustful, self-ignoring spirit of the late-hired laborers. So, many who are most forward in the work of the Church and of the world are plainly animated by motives which are not above suspicion, that nothing is more obvious or more commonly remarked upon than that “many are called but few chosen.” Many make trial of the work, and labor vigorously in it, but few have the purity of motive which gives them an abiding place, and wins the approval of Christ. And they especially are tempted to faultiness of motive who are first in work; they are impressed with their own consequence; they find it difficult to avoid inwardly comparing themselves with those who waste their day; and moreover, many of those who live outwardly blameless and correct lives, and who abound in practical work, do so because they are originally of a calculating disposition. But though many of the first, yet not all of them shall be last. This also we know to be true. Some at least of the best known workers in the vineyard, some who entered it early and never left it for an hour, some who scarcely once straightened their backs from toil, and dropped asleep as they came to the end of their task, knowing nothing but God’s work their whole life through, have also wrought in no bargaining spirit, but passed as humble a judgment on their work as the last and least and lowest of their fellow-laborers on theirs. It is a thing that recalls the mind from thinking cynically and contemptuously of human nature to find how often the highest faculty, the most conspicuous and helpful gifts are used with absolute humility and lowliness, with scarcely one conscious thought that great good is being done. Happily there are some first who shall remain first; first at their work, and foremost in it; first in the field for amount and quality of work done, and yet first also in reward, because first in unaffected forgetfulness of self and pure devotedness to their Master’s interests, and to the work itself. As it is often the man who is first in the breach who least understands why men should praise him for courage, he himself having had no thought of danger; as the charitable man who has helped countless miserable creatures and made sacrifices which could not be hid, is distressed when his friends speak of making public recognition of his charity, so some who have most materially advanced the cause of Christ and of humanity are precisely those who think most shamefacedly of what they have done, and are unfeignedly astonished to hear they have been of any service, and cannot once connect the idea of reward with any toil they have undergone.

Again, as there are some first who remain first, so there are some last who remain last. Not all who enter the vineyard late enter it humbled. Not all who do little do it well. Mercenariness is not confined to those who have some small excuse for it. Even those who have wasted their life, and bring but the wreck of it into the kingdom, are sometimes possessed with a complacency and shamelessness that are astonishing to those who know their past history. To come to Christ late, and to come unhumbled, is the culminating exhibition of human complacency. To bring to the vineyard neither strength to labor nor purity of motive is the extreme of unprofitableness. This parable, rightly read, gives no encouragement to late entrance into the Lord’s service. To think of this service as that which we can add at any convenient time to the other work of life is to mistake it altogether. The service of Christ should cover the whole of life; and what is not done as a part of His work may in some respects as well not be done at all. All outside His vineyard is idleness. You may be busily, painfully engrossed in worldly business, and yet absolutely idle as to what conscience persistently reminds you is the one thing needful. Your life may be far through, as years go, but the main business of it not yet begun: your prospects always improving, yourselves no better than when you began. If there are those among you who feel this painfully enough, who keenly feel the vanity of life, who have tasted its distresses and disappointments, who know how little it all comes to, a few pleasures, a few excitements, one or two great changes, a great deal of dull labor, and a good many sorrows, and then the plunge into oblivion; if there are those who would welcome anything that would put a heart and a purpose into the whole, and lift every part of life up out of the low and despicable rut in which it for the most part moves, then why do you hesitate to respond when Christ says, “Why stand ye here all the day idle? Go ye into My vineyard, and what is right ye shall receive?” Do you not believe Him? Do you fancy that He will suffer you to spend yourself in what is despicable, and fruitless, and disappointing? Why waste your day? Why waste another hour of it, if there is real work to be done, if there is work of such importance to be done that He Himself left heaven to do it, if there is work to be done that the world needs, that men will be the better for, if there is the least opening for you to put your hand to what will stand God’s inspection, why go on idling and frittering your one precious life away on what you yourself despise and are weary of?

Let us then examine ourselves in the light of this parable. Our Lord pointedly invites us to work for Him, to live for Him, and to do so in the assurance that whatsoever is right He will give. These laborers who went in faith got more than the men who had made what they considered a good bargain. In other words, you are as sure to be rewarded for every hour you spend in Christ’s service as if you had His written bond and had made your own terms. If you had considered what you would like in return for anything you do for Him, and if you had stipulated for this, you would not thus have so much as you are sure to have by simply leaving it to Him. We need not concern ourselves about the future: we need not be mentally counting our wages; He would have us fall in love with the service, so that even though there were to be no reward at all, we should still choose it as the most honorable, the most useful, the most joyful way of spending our life, indeed as the one service which is perfect freedom, and satisfies our idea of what life should be. The slow, hesitating, suspicious person that thinks Christ wants to use him for some ends that are not the proper ends of human life, the foolish person that always feels as if Christ did not understand what it is that gives the truest relish to human life — such persons are not the laborers He desires. The bargaining spirit gets what it bargains for, but also gets His rebuke: the spirit that is too broken to bargain, too crushed and self-diffident to make terms, but can only go and work and trust, gets a reward that carries in it the hearty approval and encouragement of the Lord. Are you then in His vineyard at all, or are you still among the unhappy ones who cannot decide, or among those who have looked at the vineyard in the distance, and have fallen asleep in the market-place and are dreaming they are in it? or are you among those who eagerly watch for the reappearance of the Master, and as soon as He turns the corner of the street offer themselves to Him? He calls you now; He calls you every hour of the day. And if already in His service, are we among those who wish to know what they are to get or make by it? or do we leave all that to Him and enter His work because we are weary of idleness and sick at heart with hope deferred, or sore with the ill-usage we have received from other masters?

None of us, surely, dare push this parable aside and pass on into life without satisfying our conscience about this matter. Many of us are called. Many of us are in the vineyard, and have long been in it. We have borne, in a mild fashion, the burden and heat of the day. We have given money; we have spent a great deal of time; we have performed a number of worrying duties. And we mean to go on. Well, in what spirit have we labored? Has it been to earn or maintain a reputation, or to make our influence felt? Has it been under a dim impression that such works and sacrifices are necessary in those who claim to be Christians? Have you rendered them as a kind of payment to enable you to maintain the feeling that you are Christ’s people? Have you striven to help others mainly for the sake of doing yourself good, of helping out your own salvation, and keeping your own hands clean? Has your object been advantage to yourself, either future or present, spiritual or worldly? If so, you will have your penny, but the cordial approval of your master goes to others. You may say, Is it not right to aim at our own salvation, and do those good works which are needful for that purpose? Certainly it is right to save yourself, but it is better to save ten other people. It is he who loses sight of his own interests and forgets himself because he is so much taken up with the common work and the common good that finds he has won the highest reward.

Look, then, to your motives. See that it be pure love of the work and love of the Master that draw you to it. Actions are always within our own power. Hard work is always possible, and great sacrifices almost any man can make. It is the motive that is unattainable save by those whom Christ Himself has renewed.