The Work of Life
by Rev. Francis A. Baker
The Third Sunday before Lent
“Why stand ye
here all the day idle.” Matthew 20:6
I
A
The parable in today’s Gospel is intended to describe the invitations which God has given, from time to time in the history of the world, to various races and peoples, to enter the true Church and be saved. But it may be applied by analogy to His dealings with each individual soul, and our Lord’s question in the text may be understood by each one of us as addressed directly to himself.
B
Taken in this sense, it affords instruction and admonition, useful at all times, but more especially suitable on this day, when the Church first strikes the keynote of those stirring lessons of personal duty and accountability which are to be the burden of her teachings through the coming season of Lent.
II
A
And, first, it reminds us of that solemn truth, that we have an appointed work to do on earth. It is difficult for us not to be skeptical sometimes on this point. Life is so short and uncertain, man is so frail and erring, that it seems strange the few years spent here on earth should exert any great influence on our eternity. Some such feeling as this was at the bottom of the old idea of heathen philosophy that God does not concern Himself with the affairs of men, that we and our doings are of too little consequence to occupy His attention.
B
The book of Wisdom well expresses this creed: “For we are born, say they” (that is, the unbelieving), “nothing, and after this we shall be as if we had not been; and our life shall pass away as the trace of a cloud, and shall be dispersed as a mist, which is driven away by the beams of the sun, and overpowered by the heat thereof. And our name in time shall be forgotten: and no man shall have any remembrance of our works.” (Wisdom 2:2-4)
C
But such a view of life does not agree either with reason or revelation. God, being Infinite Wisdom, must have an end in everything which He created. If it was not beneath Him to create, it cannot be beneath Him to govern His creatures; and reason and free will must have been given to His rational creatures to guide them to their end. It is absurd to suppose a moral and intellectual being without a law and a destiny. And revelation confirms this decision of reason. It seems as if the Bible were written, in great part, to dispel the notion that God is a mere abstraction, and to exhibit Him to us as a personal God, interfering in His creation, giving to each created thing its place, and taking note of its operation.
D
In the pages of Scripture the world is not a chance world, where everything is doubt and confusion; but an orderly world, where everything has its place. It is a vineyard, into which laborers are sent to gather the harvest. It is a house, in which each part has its order and use. It is a body, in which each member shares the common life, and contributes to it. It is a school, in which each scholar is learning a special lesson. It is a kingdom, in which each citizen is bound to the other in relations of duty or authority.
C
Yes, God has left a wide field for the free exercise of human choice and will. The pursuits of men, their studies, their pleasures, may be infinitely varied at their will; but not have a mission from Heaven, not to have a vocation – this is not possible for man. He is too honorable and great. The image of God, which is traced on his soul, is too deep and enduring; his relation to God is too direct and immediate. No man can live unto himself, and no man can die unto himself. Each man that comes into the world is but an agent sent by God on a special embassy. And each man that dies, but goes back to give an account of his performance.
III
A
Do not
accuse me of saddening and depressing you by thus covering man’s life, from the
cradle to the grave, with the pall of accountability. If God were a tyrant, if
He reaped where He did not sow, if He exacted what was beyond our strength, if
His service did not make us happy, if in His judgment of our actions He did not
take into account the circumstances of each one, his opportunities, his
shortcomings, and even his frailties, then, indeed, the thought of our
accountability would be a dreadful and depressing one.
B
But while our Master and Judge is a God whose compassion is as great as His power, whose service is our highest satisfaction, who knows whereof we are made, and who in His judgment remembers mercy, the thought that each one of us has an appointed work to do is not only an incentive to duty, but the secret of happiness.
C
There is nothing pleasant in a life without responsibility. Rest, indeed, is pleasant, but rest implies labor that has gone before, and it is the labor that makes the rest sweet. “The sleep of a laboring man is sweet,” says the Holy Scripture. But a life all rest, with nothing special to do, without aim, without obligation, is a life without honor and without peace. They who spend their time in rushing from one amusement to another are commonly listless and wretched at heart, and seek only to forget in excitement the weariness and disappointment within.
D
God has made the law, “In the sweat of thy face you shall eat bread,” medicinal as well as vindictive. When, then, you tell me that this world is not my all; that I have an immortal destiny, that life is a preparation for it; that the infinite truth is mine to know, the infinite beauty mine to possess; that I have a mission to fulfill; sin to conquer; duties to perform; merits to acquire; an account to render; you tell me that which indeed makes my conscience thrill with awe, but which, at the same time, takes all the meanness, the emptiness, the littleness out of life, covers it with glory, blends it with heaven, expands the soul, and fills it with hope and joy.
IV
A
O truth too little known! Religion is not meant to be only a solace in affliction, a help in temptation, a refuge when the world fails us. All these it is, but much more. It is the business and employment of life. It is the task for which we were born. It is the work for which our life is prolonged from day to day. It is the consecration of my whole being to God. It is to realize that wherever I am, whatever I do, I am the child of God, doing His will, and extending His kingdom on earth.
B
This is the secret of life. This is the meaning of the world. This is God’s way of looking at the world. As He looks down from heaven, all other distinctions among men vanish, distinctions of nationality, differences of education, differences of station, and wealth, and influence, and only one distinction remains – the distinction between the righteous and the wicked, between him that serves God and him that serves Him not.
C
When we look at the world, it dazzles us by its greatness, and overpowers us by its multiplicity. It is so eager and restless. It is so importunate and overbearing. Here is the secret which disenchants us from its spell. The world is not for itself. It is not its own end. It is but the field of human probation. Is it but the theater on which men are exercising each day their highest faculty, the power of free will. It is the scene of the great struggle between good and evil, between heaven and hell, the battle that began when “Michael and his angels fought with the dragon, and the dragon fought and his angels.” (Rev 12:7)
D
Into this arena each generation has entered, one after another, to show their valor. Once the saints of whom we read in the Bible and the history of the Church were upon the earth, and it was their turn, and heaven and earth were watching them. They did their work well. So penetrated were they with the great thought of eternity that some of then, like Abraham, left home and kindred, and went out not knowing where they went; and others, like the martyrs, gave their hearts’ blood for a sacrifice.
E
And there were others who were not saints, for they were not called to deeds of heroism, but they were good men, who in simplicity of heart fulfilled each duty, and served God with clean hands and pure hearts. And penitents have come in their turn. Once they were unwise, and the world deceived them, and they followed their own will, but afterward they turned to God, and redeemed their former sins by a true penance, and died in the number of those who overcame the Wicked One.
F
And now it is our turn. There are many adversaries. All things are ready. The herald has called our name. And as the primitive martyrs, condemned to the wild beasts in the amphitheatre, nerved themselves for the encounter by the thought of the thousand spectators ranged around, so to animate our courage let us give heed to the sympathizing witnesses who watch our strife, and who cry to us from heaven and from earth: Be valiant! Do battle for the right! Conduct yourselves like men! Be strong!
V
A
And again, as our Lord’s words in the text remind us that we have an appointed work to do, they remind us also that we have an allotted time to do it in. All men acknowledge that religion is a thing to be attended to. But when? Some seem to think that it is enough to attend to religion at Easter and Christmas, and that at other times it may be left alone. Some at still more distant intervals, when the time has been too long, and the number of sins too great, and the burden on the conscience too heavy.
B
Others propose to attend to it in the leisure of old age, or just before they leave this world. And very many imagine that, if a man actually makes his peace with God at any time before he dies, there is not much to be regretted. How different is God’s intention in this matter! “Man goes forth to his work and to his labor until the evening.” Think of a day-laborer. He rises very early in the morning, in the winter, long before it is light, and goes off to his work. He works all day until the evening, pausing only at noon, when he seeks some hollow in the rock, or the shelter of some overhanging shrub, to protect him from the cold or the heat, while he eats his frugal dinner.
C
Now, it is after this pattern that God wishes us to work out our salvation. The Christian should work from the morning till the evening, from the beginning of life to the end of it. There is not a day that God does not claim for his own. There is not an hour over which He has resigned His sovereignty. A man who perfectly fulfills his duty begins to serve God early in the morning. In the morning of life, in early youth, when the dewdrops sparkle in the sunshine, and the birds sing under the leaves, and the flowers are in their fresh bloom and fragrance, and everything is full of keen enjoyment, there is a low, sweet voice that speaks to the soul of the happy boy: “My son, give me thy heart.”
D
And he heeds that voice. It is time for first communion, and he has leave to go. He does not know fully the meaning of the act. It is too great and deep. But he knows that his choice is of God. He knows that God is very near him, and he is very happy. By and by the time has come for Confirmation. The candidates stand before the bishop, and see, that boy is among the number. He is changed from what he was. He has grown to be a youth now. He is more thoughtful and reserved. He knows now what temptation means; he has seen the shadow of sin; he has caught the tones of the world’s song of pleasure; but he does not waver; he is bold and resolute for the right, and he is come to fortify himself for the conflict of life by the special grace of the Almighty.
E
And now time goes on, and he passes through the most dangerous part of life: he is a young man, he goes into business, he marries. There are times of fierce temptation, there are times when the objects of faith seem all to fade away from mind, there are times when it seems as if the only good was the enjoyment of this world, but prayer and vigilance and a affixed will carry him through, and he passes the most critical period of life without any grievous stain on his soul.
F
Thus passes the noonday of his life, and he come to its decline. It draws toward evening. The shadows are getting long. The sun and the light and the moon are growing dark, and the clouds return after the rain. He is an old man and feeble, but there he is with the same heart he gave to God in youth; he has never recalled the offering. He has been true to his faith, true to his promises, true to his conscience, and at the hour of death he can sing his Nunc dimittis, and go the judgment seat of Christ humbly but confidently to claim the reward of a true and faithful servant. Beautiful picture! Life to be envied! A life spent with God, over which the devil has never had any real power.
VI
A
But you tell me this is a mere fancy picture; no one lives such a life. I tell you this is the life God intended you and I should live. There have been men who have lived such lives, though, indeed, they are not many. But the number is not so small of those who approximate to it. Even suppose a man falls into mortal sin, and more than once, all is not lost.
B
Suppose him, in some hour of temptation, to cast off his allegiance to God, and in his discouragement to look upon a life of virtue as a dream; yet, if such a one gathers up his manhood, if in humble acknowledgment of his sin he returns with new courage to take his place in the Christian race, such a man recovers not only the friendship of God, but the merits of his past obedience.
C
There is a process of restoration in grace as well as in nature. Penance has power to heal the wounds and knit over the gaps which sin has made. What does the Holy Scripture say? “I will restore to you the years which the locust, and the cankerworm, and the mildew, and the palmer-worm have eaten.” (Joel 2:25) Many a man’s life, which has not been without sin, has yet a character of continuity and a uniform tending toward God.
D
I believe there are many who have this kind of perfection. They cannot say, “I have not sinned,” for they have had bitter experience of their own frailty; but they can say, “I have sinned, but I have not made sin a law to me. I have not allowed myself in sin, or withdrawn myself from Thy obedience. I have not gone backward from Thee. I have fallen, but I have risen again. O Lord, Thou you have been my hope, even from my youth, from my youth until now, until old age and gray hairs.”
VII
A
And now, my brethren, if we try our past lives and our present conduct by the thought of the work we have to do on earth and the persevering attention we ought to pay to it, do we not find matter for alarm? And does not our Lord’s question convey to us the keenest reproach? “Why stand ye here all the day idle?” Yes, idle; that is the word. There is all the difference in the world between committing a sin in the time of severe temptation, for which we are afterward heartily sorry, and doing nothing for our salvation.
B
And is not this our crime, that we are idlers and triflers in religion? What have our past lives been? What years spent in neglect, or even in sin? What long periods of utter forgetfulness of God? What loss of time? What excessive anxiety about this world? What devotion to pleasure?
C
And are we now really doing anything for heaven? Are we really redeeming the past by a true penance? Are we diligent in prayer, watchful against temptation, watchful of the company we keep, watchful of the influence we exert, watchful over our tempers, watchful to fulfill our duties, watchful against habits of sin? Are we living the lives God intended us to live? Can we say, “I am fulfilling the requirements of my conscience, within the standard which I propose to myself?”
D
Ah! Is not this our misery, that we have left off striving? That we are doing nothing, or at least nothing serious and worthy of our salvation? “Why stand ye all the day idle?” All the day. Time is going. Time that might have made us holy, time that has sanctified so many others, who set on with us in life, is gone, never to return.
E
The future is uncertain; how much of the day of life is left to us we know not and graces have been squandered. No doubt, as long as we live we shall have sufficient grace to turn to God, if we will; but we know not what we do, when we squander those special graces which God gives us now and then through life. The tender heart, the generous purpose that we had in youth; the fervor of our first conversion; the kind warnings and admonitions of friends long dead; these have all passed away. Oh, what opportunities have we thrown away! What means of grace misused! “Why stand you all the day idle?” You cannot say, “No man has hired us.”
F
God has not left you to the light of natural reason alone, to find out your destiny. In Baptism He has plainly marked out for you your work. And now in reproachful tones He speaks to your conscience: “Creature of my hand, whom I made to serve and glorify me; purchase of my blood, whom I bought to love me; heir of heaven, for whose fidelity I have prepared an eternal reward, why is it that you resist my will, withstand your own conscience and reason, despise my blood, and throw away your own happiness?”
VIII
A
But the words of Christ are not only a reproach, but an invitation. “Why stand ye here all the day idle?” It is not, then, too late. God does nothing in vain; and when He calls us to His service, He pledges himself that the necessary graces shall not be wanting, nor the promised reward fail. Church history is full of beautiful instances of souls that, after long neglect, recovered themselves by a fervent penance. Some even, who are high in the Church’s Calendar of Saints, had the neglect and sin of years upon their consciences when they began.
B
There is only one unpardonable sin, and that is to put off conversion until it is too late. As long as God calls, you can listen and be saved. Today, then, once more He calls. Today, once more the trumpet blast of penance sounds in your ears. Another Lent is coming, a season of penance and prayer. Prepare yourself for that holy season by examination of your conscience.
C
Refuse no longer to work in the Lord’s vineyard. Offer no more excuses; make no more delay. Work while it is called today, that when the evening comes, and the Lord gives to the laborers their hire, you may be found a faithful workman, “that needs not to be ashamed.”