'They all, with one consent, began.' I do not suppose that they had
laid their heads together, or that our Lord intends us to suppose
that there was a conspiracy and concert of refusal, but only that
without any previous consultation, all had the same sentiments, and
offered substantially the same answer. All the reasons that are
given come to one and the same thing--viz. occupation with present
interests, duties, possessions, or affections. There are differences
in the excuses which are not only helps to the vividness of the
narrative, but also express differences in the speakers. One man is
a shade politer than the others. He puts his refusal on the ground
of necessity. He 'must,' and so he courteously prays that he may be
held excused. The second one is not quite so polite; but still there
is a touch of courtesy about him too. He does not pretend necessity
as his friend had done, but he simply says, 'I _am_ going'; and
that is not quite so courteous as the former answer, but still he
begs to be excused. The last man thinks that he has such an
undeniable reason that he may be as brusque as he likes, and so he
says, 'I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come' and I do
not make any apologies. So with varying degrees of apparent
recognition of the claims of host and feast, the ground of refusal
is set forth as possessions in two cases, and as affections in the
third; and these so fill the men's hearts and minds that they have
no time to attend to the call that summons them to the feast.
Now it is obvious to note that the alleged necessity in one of these
excuses was no necessity at all. Who made the 'must'? The man himself.
The field would not run away though he waited till to-morrow. The
bargain was finished, for he had bought it. There was no necessity
for his going, and the next day would have done quite as well as
to-day; so the 'must' was entirely in his own mind. That is to say,
a great many of us mask inclinations under the garb of imperative
duties and say, 'We are so pressed by necessary obligations and
engagements that we really have not got any time to attend to these
higher questions which you are trying to press upon us.' You remember
the old story. 'I must live,' said the thief. 'I do not see the
necessity,' said the judge. A man says, 'I _must_ be at business
to-morrow morning at half-past eight. How can I think about religion?'
Well, if you really _must_, you _can_ think about it. But if you
are only juggling and deceiving yourself with inclinations that pose as
necessities, the sooner the veil is off the better, and you understand
whereabouts you are, and what is your true position in reference to the
Gospel of Jesus Christ.
But then let me, only in a word, remind you that the other side of
the excuse is a very operative one. 'I have married a wife, and
therefore I cannot come.' There are some of us around whom the
strong grasp of earthly affections is flung so embracingly and
sweetly that we cannot, as we think, turn our loves upward and fix
them upon God. Fathers and mothers, husbands and wives, parents and
children, remember Christ's deep words, 'A man's foes shall be they
of his own household'; and be sure that the prediction is fulfilled
many a time by the hindrances of their love even more than by the
opposition of their hatred.
All these excuses refer to legitimate things. It is perfectly right
that the man should go and see after his field, perfectly right that
the ten bullocks should be harnessed and tried, perfectly right that
the sweetness of wedded love should be tasted and drunk, perfectly
wrong that any of them should be put as a reason for not accepting
Christ's offer. Let us take the lesson that legitimate business and
lawful and pure affections may ruin a soul, and may constitute the
hindrance that blocks its road to God.
Brethren, I said that these were flimsy excuses. I shall have to
explain what I mean by that in a moment. As excuses they are flimsy;
but as reasons which actually operate with hundreds of people,
preventing them from being Christians, they are not flimsy; they are
most solid and real. Our Lord does not mean them as exhaustive.
There are a great many other grounds upon which different types of
character turn away from the offered blessings of the Gospel, which
do not come within view of the parable. But although not exhaustive
they are widely operative. I wonder how many men and women there are
listening to me now of whom it is true that they are so busy with
their daily occupations that they have not time to be religious, and
of how many men, and perhaps more especially women, among us at this
moment it is true that their hearts are so ensnared with loves that
belong to earth--beautiful and potentially sacred and elevating as
these are--that they have not time to turn themselves to the one
eternal Lover of their souls. Let me beseech you, dear friends--and
you especially who are strangers to this place and to my voice--to
do what I cannot, and would not if I could, lay these thoughts on
your own hearts, and ask yourselves, 'Is it I?'
And then before I pass from this point of my discourse, remember
that the contrariety between these duties and the acceptance of the
offered feast existed only in the imagination of the men that made
them. There is no reason why you should not go to the feast and see
after your field. There is no reason why you should not love your
wife and go to the feast. God's summons comes into collision with
many wishes, but with no duties or legitimate occupations. The more
a man accepts and lives upon the good that Jesus Christ spreads
before him, the more fit will he be for all his work, and for all
his enjoyments. The field will be better tilled, the bullocks will
be better driven, the wife will be more wisely, tenderly, and
sacredly loved if in your hearts Christ is enthroned, and whatsoever
you do you do as for Him. It is only the excessive and abusive
possession of His gifts and absorption in our duties and relations
that turns them into impediments in the path of our Christian life.
And the flimsiness of the excuse is manifest by the fact that the
contrarity is self-created.