THE PARABLE OF THE LABORERS VINDICATED.
By W. H. Littlejohn
Go labor in my vineyard, the Master calls to-day;
Go labor in my vineyard, and what is right I'll pay.
No matter if the morning or noon of life be past,
To him who comes when bidden, the price is sure at last. Nor let the weary toiler through life's long, dreary day
Be envious of his brother, because of equal pay.
What matter if the penny to those alike be given
Who've labored from the noon-tide, and those who've longer striven? Are not the wages offered of greater value far
Than labors of a short life, or e'en the longest are?
And is it not my province with that which I have won
To pay, when thus preferring, for labor never done? But—leaving for the present the right I have supreme
E'en with my own of doing as good to me may seem—
What word have I e'er spoken, or action ever done,
To make you fear that justice in future I should shun? Perhaps you've read in story the parable I told
Of workmen in the market who idle stood of old.
It may be that the moral which there I sought to teach,
Did much offend your judgment, and your best sense impeach; But come and let us reason, perhaps the end will show
Your fears to be ungrounded, your sense of justice low.
Pray tell me in the outset what principle should rule,
When equity we seek for in more than mortal school. Ought Master of the vineyard of heavenly vintage green
To make the service rendered, the measure of esteem?
Or would it be with reason more consonant by far,
To make the will the standard with those who willing are? Which is it that the Maker of wheeling worlds above
More prizes in the creature, his service or his love?
What function has our labor in fixing our reward!
Has it intrinsic value with an almighty Lord? Or is it only useful as evidence to all,
That he who puts it forth now thus heeds the Master's call?
But if to it a value as proof alone be given,
Might he not furnish proof, too, who never yet has striven? If thus he should be able his faithfulness to prove,
Must not the Lord reward him with token of his love?
That such a course, in reason, would equal be and just,
Now if so be you'll answer, as sure I am you must, Then turn once more and ponder "the parable I told
Of workmen in the market who idle stood of old."
Why were they in the market? why idle stood they there?
What in the well-known story, did all alike declare! Was't not because they waited with anxious looks and sad,
For some one to employ them, and thus their hearts make glad?
Since this is true, their motives were every way correct;
And if they did not labor, 'twas not their own neglect. Because no man hath called us,—the reason they assigned—
Was manifestly truthful, and proved the willing mind.
Now, since the worthy Master, who sought their service late,
Knew well their patient waiting, and pitied much their fate, He gave to each the penny, as each alike deserved;
His verdict wisely finding, that "he who waited served."
But, throwing off the figure to make the figure plain,
Suppose that there's a heathen of honest heart and mein. He lives in moral darkness, and yet he longs for light;
Toward God he ever reaches, and, waiting, prays for sight.
His years are very many, his form is bowed with age;
His eyes now shine but dimly, yet there he stands, a sage. Resisting oft temptation with reason's feeble ray,
He would illume the pathway which leads to perfect day.
The Father sees him waiting, and hears his earnest cry;
He sends that way a witness this aged man to try. Just as his sun is setting, ere yet his day is done,
He hears the wondrous story of God, and Christ the Son.
Receiving all with rapture, the gospel he proclaims
With the strength he has remaining, and most unselfish aims. He dies; and in the Judgment what crown ought he to wear,
If not of that the equal which life-long Christians share?
Without the consolations which in the word are found,
The right he lived out nobly, he nobly held his ground. And when the gospel story his aged ear awoke,
It found him more than ready to wear its easy yoke.
Proved both by want and plenty; by darkness and by light;
The crucial tests he suffered of blindness and of sight. Where can you find a Christian, however good and free,
Who are more proof could furnish of loyalty than he?
Till this is done, however, you must admit as fair
The principle I pleaded, that both alike should share. The rock on which you stumble, the error which you made,
Consisted in confounding the characters portrayed.
You thought that I had reference to those in Christian lands,
Who early are converted, and one who longer stands. Not so, at all, as logic will clearly demonstrate;
Since now in lands called Christian, no man need ever wait.
To him the call was given when first he heard the truth;
Which was in early childhood, or later, still, in youth. If, then, he longer loitered, till noon, or e'en till seven,
He cannot plead the promise to faithful heathen given.
Though life to him be granted his crown will not compare
With one he would have sported had he obeyed with care. The Christian of a long life, the faithful heathen too,
Will far surpass in honor this halting man, untrue;
For each was true to duty, since each obeyed the call
When first he heard the summons, by yielding once for all. Thus, reader, we have ventured, in person of the Lord,
In running verse to argue the wisdom of his word.
While some are greatly troubled to see how any one
Could rightly ask for wages for day's work partly done; Yet others still have pleaded, Deceived by Satan's art,
That all, though late in coming, will share an equal part.
The former we've instructed by logic clear and strong,
That God might pay the willing for short work as for long. We've also shown the latter that his mistake is great
Who thinks in lands called Christian it ever pays to wait.
Thus close our pleasant labors, and thus our stanzas end,
While arm in arm with reason is found the sinner's Friend.
W. H. LITTLEJOHN.