# Sermons from the Latins/Sermon 15

Septuagesima Sunday.
The Laborers in the Vineyard.
"Man goeth forth unto his labor until the evening, and then cometh the night when no man worketh." — Psalm ciii. 23; John ix. 4.
SYNOPSIS.
Ex. : I. Necessity of labor. II. Our choice. III. Our reward
I. Parable : 1. Rich youth and Peter's query. 2. Five special calls. 3. The recusant.
II. Choice: 1. Two masters. 2. Vineyard and race-course. 3. Worldling and sluggard.
III. Reward: 1. Coin is heaven. 2. Justice to all. 3. First, last; last, first.
Per. : Newman's picture of ideal Christian.
SERMON.
Brethren, for six days the Creator wrought, and rested on the seventh; not till the darkened sun cast night on Calvary did the Redeemer desist from His labors; and the Holy Ghost, we are told, the Sanctifier and Saviour, will continue His beneficent mission even to the night of time — the consummation of the world. Ceaseless activity, then, being a characteristic of God, what wonder that toil is the common lot of man, for the Creator is the creatures' archetype. Man, even before his fall, was bidden dress and keep the earthly paradise, but after his sin his toil became for him a curse. The convict in his solitary cell anon realizes that work is a necessity of our being. " Labor," says Shakespeare, " physics pain; 'tis in itself a blessing and cursed only in its products, the. ​thorns of disease and weariness, and the thistles of disappointed hopes." Our call from nothingness into being was a call to labor, and after life, time comes when no man worketh — the night of death — the Sabbath of eternity. Work we must, but ah, for whom, for whom? What species of labor shall our life's work be? For a life-day well spent, what shall be the eventide reward? What is our standing among the laborers here? What shall be our place among the elect hereafter? Brethren, these are the questions answered in the parable of to-day — the call of the laborers — their work in the vineyard and the paying of the laborers their wages.
Brethren, Christ's object in this parable was to teach the special blessedness of one that from the world is called to labor in God's service, and that too at the eleventh hour or under the Christian dispensation. A rich young man had come and cast himself before the Saviour and begged to know what he must do to gain eternal life. " Give up all," the Saviour said: "and come and follow Me." Then seeing the young man sadly turn away, He added: " How hard is entrance into heaven for the rich!" Closely watching every move was Peter and the other Apostles. Then Peter spoke: " Master, we have left all to follow Thee; what shall be our reward? " And Christ made answer: " Amen, I say to you, in the last great judgment day you shall sit in judgment on the twelve tribes of Israel. And not you alone, but every one who abandons all for love of Me, shall be recompensed an hundred-fold in life everlasting, and ​many that are first shall be last and the last shall be first." Peter and the others, being men well on in years, were fearful, doubtless, of having entered their Master's service all too late; of having too long idly loitered in the market-place. Besides, they had heard from Christ that the Christian era is the world's eleventh hour — its final stage — and so they deemed the time too short to achieve so great a work and gain such great reward. Far different is the teaching of Christ's parable. God is Father of the universe; the world of rational creatures, the members of His household; and His vineyard was the Jewish synagogue and is now the Christian Church. His family comprises three divisions: His children, the angels and blessed in heaven; living men, His freedmen; and the lost souls, His slaves. From His freedmen alone He recruits the laborers in His vineyard. On five distinct occasions has He deigned with more than ordinary condescension to visit this busy mart — this worldly world of ours, and each time has He called fresh laborers to His vineyard. From time's beginning to time's end is but a day to God — as short to Him as seems to us the insect's life that is born at sunrise and at sunset dies. God's first coming was in time's first hour, and the first to labor in His vineyard were the common parents of us all. His subsequent goings forth in search of laborers mark the great physical and moral regenerations of the world, viz.: the time of Noe which was the third hour; the day of Abraham which was the sixth; the day of Moses which was the ninth; the coming of Christ which ​was the eleventh hour in the flight of time. Thankful ought we be that the Lord of the vineyard never sought in vain — that in every age there were some, at least, who hearkened to His voice and turned to His service. True, many in every age did not respond, but the noise of the market-place is deafening; the calls of worldly cares are numerous and loud, and drown the voice of God. Are such men lost? No; God forbid! Ask such a one: " Why stand you here all the day idle? " and he will reply: " Because no man hath hired me." Because, that is, he had not heard God's call, or though it echoed in his ears, it failed to reach his mind and heart. There are here to-day eyes that weep and hearts that ache for loved ones that do not, will not, hear; but be not disheartened. A change will come. Proud Wolsey in adversity turns penitently to God, and many a worldly soul is led at last to say as penitently: " Would that I had served my God with half the zeal wherewith I served the world." When affliction draws us from out the din and uproar of the world, and when, like wounded animals, we hide ourselves away and feel around us the awful stillness of approaching death, the voice of God sounds plainer, the works of years are crowded into a few moments of intense, agonized repentance, and whereas we were last, we become first, and whereas we were not even deemed among the called, we are now among the very chosen.
Brethren, labor is a necessary condition of life, but it is ours to choose which shall be our master, God or the world. By the service of the world I mean any​thing and everything that leads us from the service of God according to Christ's saying: " He that is not with Me is against Me." True, the legitimate management of worldly affairs is not incompatible with the service of God, provided the laborer be so disposed that whatever he do, he does for God. A soul adorned with God's grace, and united to Christ's Church by faith and hope and love, and doing all from the higher motive of pleasing God, is really in its commonest actions working in the vineyard of the Lord. Such a laborer glorifies his work, changing a curse into a blessing even as Christ sanctified our tribulations by bearing the thorns of earth upon His sacred brow. All other labors are but wasted energy and outside the vineyard, and will count for nothing on the great pay day. St. Paul employs the figure of a race-course and urges us all to run so as to obtain the prize. The first condition of success is to be entered for the race — to fight the battle on the course, and not where you will, in some neighboring field. God is the generous Giver of the prize, and His it is to settle when and where and how the work be done, the race be run. Nor does it for the prize suffice to work and run; we must work and run right well, for adverbs and not verbs are crowned. The rich young man ran eagerly to Jesus' feet, but missed the prize he sought, for he ran not well, encumbered with his riches as he was. He essayed the impossible, viz., to serve two masters. He fain would work at once outside and in the vineyard, or at the same time run a race on two far different tracks. Oh how many ​Ananiases and Saphiras there are among us, who pretend to bring their all and lay it at the feet of Christ, and stealthily keep a portion back! How many fain would grasp the prize, and shirk the toil whereby alone it can be won! How many in a kind of grim despair turn from God's vineyard, give up the race for heaven, and consecrate themselves and all their being to the service of the world! And yet they work and run as hard and even harder, but not with God nor for Him; not in His vineyard or according to the rules of His race-course. Of them He says: " I sent them not and yet they ran," and at the judgment when they seek reward, He will answer them: "Amen, I know you not." Love's labor lost! for that they loved was false — corruptible. For years they braved the wear and tear, the din and tumult of the world's market-place, and like brokers in stocks that change, find in the end no gain, or only gain that counts for loss, as leading more from God. The devil used the things of earth to catch them, as the fishermen use bait, luring them on with hollow imitations of real happiness, robbing them of their spoil by death as soon as caught, and making the self-same riches and honors and pleasure serve for ages as means to win innumerable souls. From such vain toil God calls mankind to labor in His vineyard. " Come," He says, " all ye that labor and are burdened with the world's heavy yoke, and I will refresh you. Take upon you My yoke, which is sweet, and My burden, which is light, and learn of Me to be meek and humble of heart and you shall obtain here earth's choicest ​blessing — a peaceful soul — and hereafter the happiness of heaven." For God, too, is a fisher of men and such the bait He uses, and incredible though it seems, men snatch more eagerly the painted imitation than the rich reality. Why think you is it God so often and so heavily afflicts us? Why do riders whip and spur their favorite racers? God wishes us to win, and all His scourgings are but proofs of love, while the devil's siren blandishments but prove his hate. But scourge us as He may, God finds many of us as hard to guide and slow to travel toward the heavenly Jerusalem as was that lowly beast Christ rode into Jerusalem on the first Palm Sunday. It is a fact worthy of mention, and of notice, that though the ancient law prescribed that the first-born of every flock and herd should be sacrificed to God, a sheep was always substituted for the ass, as though to show God's aversion for that animal and all who inherit its propensities. If such like be God's attitude towards the sluggard, what must His loathing be for one whose movements in the way of right suggest the slowness of the snail; who carries, like the snail, his treasury of riches on his back, and who spends his greatest energy in clinging to things of earth! " Go to," says the Proverb, " and learn wisdom from the ant." Untiring industry, a determination to overcome all obstacles, and perseverance to the death, these are the qualities by which the race is won; this is the rule of labor in the Lord's vineyard — in this way the last become first and the first last — the called receive commendation and the chosen their reward.
​Brethren, at the close of day the laborers gather round their Lord receiving every man his pay. " Call the laborers," He says, "and pay them their hire." Suppose He ordered the talkers to be called, what a vast crowd would come! But no! for not every man that says " Lord, Lord," shall be saved, but he that doth the will of the Father — he whose life is an honest day's labor in the vineyard of the Lord, he shall be saved. Not that even then the Lord is bound to reward us, but in His bounteous goodness He elects to pay us for doing what He has the right and power to command. Is it not lawful for Him to do as He will? If, notwithstanding the different hours of toil, it please Him to give all equal pay, beginning from the last even to the first, does He do wrong? No, for the coin He gives in payment is heaven, the possession and vision of Christ forevermore. The figure on a coin, the inscription, its shape and power, all signify the attributes of Christ, who is the figure of the King, His Father's substance, the Word of God; whose eternity the endless circle of a coin denotes, and whose omnipotence it partly imitates. Labor as we will, and as long and hard — this priceless coin is ample recompense, and being satisfied, why should we murmur seeing others equally rewarded, though having labored less? Besides, though heaven's duration be the same for all, the intensity of happiness has different degrees. Each soul beatified will see God's face according to its capacity for seeing. Those animals, they say, that work in mines and never see the light become blind totally, and the owl, you know, ​that shuns the light can never gaze upon the midday sun. So, too, it is with men, for in proportion as they shun the light of heavenly grace, and delve and bury their minds and hearts in earthly things, they lessen their capacity for enjoying the beatific vision, or forever forego all possibility of seeing God. But the Christian who in every action of his life looks up to God, who soars in spirit often beyond the range of earthly things — he is like the eagle, and in heaven at last he will gaze with eagle eye upon the glorified Sun. Our conduct here determines our degree of happiness hereafter, but all will be content, for why should a spiritual dwarf complain if his garb of glory be not as long as that of a spiritual giant? But is it fair, you ask, that he who labored but an hour should be paid off before the men who labored all the day? Brethren, God judges not the quantity but the quality of the work. The laborers of the eleventh hour are Christians, God's favorite workmen, so trained by Christ's precept and example, and so fortified by grace, that in an hour they do more work than the men of old in a day. The two spies sent by Moses to view the promised land returned bearing between them on a pole an enormous cluster of grapes. That vine denotes Christ on the cross, and he that went before, the Jews; and the Christian, he that followed. Christ shields us from the sun, His example is ever before us, He is ever at hand to refresh us; advantages that, prior to His coming, man did not enjoy. Thus the first became last and the last first. The same happens among Christians — Dives in all his riches and ​Lazarus dying of hunger — both die and Lazarus is taken to Abraham's bosom and Dives is buried in hell. The falcon sits on the wrist of royalty and eats from precious vessels where the humble chicken dare not enter — death comes, and the falcon's carcass is flung in the sewer, but the chicken is served upon a dish of gold. The last becomes first and the first last.
Brethren, what must we do to be of the first— of the chosen? We have, thank God, among us many ideal Christians, — let us imitate them. " You will know them by their calm faces and sweet plaintive voices, and spare frames and gentle manners, hearts weaned from the world and wills subdued, whose meekness meets with insult and their purity with slander, their gravity with suspicion and their courage with cruelty; yet who meet with Christ everywhere; who keep their eyes forever on Him here as they hope to also forever hereafter."