Try to imagine the gospels minus the parables, and in so doing, fifty percent. of the weight of argument is lost. Consider Jesus using the parable in the offensive. He is surrounded by a group of followers, mostly the uneducated peasant type, and his desire is to warn them of the danger of conformity, of believing in something because it is a popular belief. He is trying to persuade them of the value of sound reasoning, of the fundamental wisdom of the teaching he professes, and the futility of rejecting that in favour of convention.
What a desperately difficult task before a collection of people who would find difficulty in following the simplest of language. So Jesus uses the parable. He begins speaking about people who build houses on rock and those who build on sand, and in a moment the message is home, the task is accomplished and the battle won. Not only has the lesson been taught, but in such a way that it will be retained.
An example of using the parable when he himself was attacked is given when a certain lawyer asked him, “Which is the greatest commandment in the laws?” He was not a genuine seeker, for we are told that he came “tempting him”, evidently with the object of forcing Jesus to say something which could be used to sway the multitude against Him. Jesus in his wisdom asked the lawyer to recite the requirements of the Law, following which he advised him to go and do it. The lawyer had clearly lost ascendancy, but showed he was by no means defeated, by following up with the equally weighted question, “But who is my neighbour?”
At this point Jesus might have stumbled, referring hesitantly and guardedly about Samaritans and Gentiles and the equality of men in the sight of God, which to the mind of the lawyers would have presented a golden opportunity to steer the crowd against Jesus. Instead, the Lord responded with the parable of the Good Samaritan—probably the best known of them all. In it, Jesus expressed exactly the same views, but in such a masterly fashion that when he concluded with the question, “Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour to him that fell among thieves? the lawyer was faced with no alternative but to answer sheepishly, “He that showed mercy on him”. Such were the potentialities of the parable in the teachings of Jesus.
The parable however was not exclusive to Jesus. It had been used with forcefulness f or many hundreds of years. The prophets, like Christ, couched their messages time and again in pictures. Like him, they found the parable invaluable in impressing an audience which was largely illiterate. For this reason, the books of the prophets are teeming with these picture comparisons—promises, condemnations, threats and hopes, all voiced in terms commonplace and familiar to those who heeded.
God’s Vineyard
In his 5th chapter, Isaiah presents a parable, beautiful and vivid, yet one to which we rarely give a second thought. It is expressed in terms of the wine producer, whose methods were everyday knowledge to the Israelite, who depended so much on the vineyard for his livelihood. The Revised Version clarifies the first verse of this chapter a little when it renders it, “Let me sing for my beloved a love song concerning his vineyard”. The verse sounds a little lyrical and sentimental, until we realise that Isaiah was not dedicating the passage to some anonymous friend, but to the God of Israel. Because of his harsh words, Isaiah was despised by his nation, and found his only consolation in his intimacy with the Creator. He therefore terms Him “my well beloved”. “My beloved hath (more correctly “had”) a vineyard in a very fruitful hill”-God had a vineyard.
The prophet is taking us back to a period some hundreds of years previous when God examined mankind to see what righteousness he could find in the earth. He was not pleased with what he found—justifiably. Men’s hearts and minds were inundated with lust, sin and deceit. They had become idolatrous, creating their own gods from wood and stone, to which they attributed the power rightfully God’s.
However, in the midst of this darkness, there was one found who rendered to God the type of life and faith which he looked for—one Abram. So Abram became the recipient of divine selection, the one through whom a nation would be born, different and distinct from every other nation under heaven. Here would be opportunity for a collection of human beings to be tried under the best possible circumstances — isolated from the world as a whole, given divine protection and guidance, and bearing the very promises of the Almighty himself. We are very familiar with the events which transpired from then on: the reiteration of the same promises to Isaac and Jacob, the divine protection and exaltation to power of Joseph in Egypt, the migration of the selected posterity to Goshen. Then ensued the divine calling of Moses, the powers of God displayed before Pharoah, the gathering of a vast group of Hebrews culminating in that tremendous event, the Exodus.
And so the site of God’s vineyard was chosen, represented in these hundreds of thousands of forlorn, but expectant fugitives. They had been a race apart from the Egyptians, and one which had flourished in former times. But, as a direct result of the decrees of the “Pharoah who knew not Joseph”, they now stood on the east side of the Red Sea: a nation embittered through decades of slavery and hard bondage. Here they stood, a people who marvelled not at the wondrous powers of God in delivering them, but a stiffnecked people. “Our fathers understood not thy wonders in Egypt”, the Psalmist reflected, ‘He saved them for His name’s sake that he might make his mighty power to be known.”
This disunited collection of humanity emblemised the virgin country, the rough and stony ground which hard work and patience would turn progressively into a profitable vineyard. The farmer knew this tract of land would not yield fruit immediately, but he also knew its potential, the profits which should quite automatically flow from the strenuous labour which he was willing to give. So he set about his task: “And he fenced it” (v. 2) or “made a wall about it”. Two motives here—to keep out marauding beasts, and to show to others that this particular tract of land was his personal and exclusive possession.
God accomplished this with Israel in a variety of ways. He kept them isolated throughout the years in the wilderness and also in their own land. He forbade them to intermarry with neighbouring inhabitants and severely restricted all other dealings with outsiders, and, finally, he repulsed the efforts of would-be invaders to divide and conquer his valued possession. Figuratively speaking, God put a fence between Israel and the rest of the world.
“He gathered out the stone thereof”—an absolutely essential preliminary to any proposed cultivation. Jesus elaborated the futility of sowing amongst stones in the parable of the sower. So before God could achieve his ends the stone had to be removed from Israel—an operation which was evidenced so clearly at Sinai when the Golden Calf was worshipped. The separation of the good soil from the stones was brought about with the memorable question, “Who is on the Lord’s side?”, followed by an equally memorable slaughter of the guilty. Her following history consisted of some 40 years of activity by the Great Farmer, searching for stones and excluding them from his vineyard.
“He planted it with the choicest vine”. Here was the keystone to the whole enterprise. No matter how fertile the soil, little gain would materialize if the plants were inferior. So Cod planted amongst Israel his very best, a Law which had its origin in heaven itself, a law which was holy, just and good, and which gave Israel a golden opportunity to provide in return the best of fruit.
“He built a tower in the midst of it”. The tower was the place where the owner could dwell while he supervised his vine yard, and from whence he could admire the beautiful panorama. God therefore had Moses build a tabernacle and he selected a portion of it, termed the Holy of Holies, where he alone could dwell. Here God was manifest in the centre of the camp and here, had Israel co-operated, God could have enjoyed the panorama of holiness and fruitfulness which might have existed around him.
And finally, the owner of the vineyard “made a winepress therein” representative of the altar where the fruits of the camp were brought in the form of peace offerings and thank offerings, which offerings provided a means whereby the Lord could gauge the productivity of his people.
Such was the preparation. After so much work and care, the farmer could reasonably expect a very fine crop. But what was the result? “He looked that it should bring forth grapes and it brought forth wild grapes.” A most unpleasant shock and disappointment to God, who had concentrated his efforts on Israel and hoped for a profitable return. Better no crop at all than a crop of wild grapes—the insolence and blasphemy of his own people.
The remainder of the chapter deals with the fate of the unprofitable vineyard of God. The fence was removed so that the marauder could enter and consume it. The briers and thorns were allowed to spring up at will, and he adds, “I will also command the clouds that they rain no rain upon it”.
The parable concludes, . . and he looked for judgment and behold oppression; for righteousness, but behold a cry”. And so the nation of Israel, who had come into existence due to providential aid, went out of existence due to providential anger. The one people under the sun who had been selected by God out of all nations of the earth to receive divine favour were carried off and scattered among the mostly godless gentiles. While Israel’s history is one of sadness and mourning, the time to favour Zion will come, and the prophet Joel brings the prophetic hymn to a crescendo in his 2nd chap., vv. 21-27, when the former and the latter rain is restored, and “the floors shall be full of wheat, and the vats shall overflow with wine and oil”.
The True Vine
When God caused the worthless vineyard of natural Israel to be rooted out, he made open another way by which every human being was given the invitation to grow, if he so desired, in God’s vineyard. In this vineyard, through his Son, he has provided a master plant on which we are given the invitation to grow as branches. -I am the true vine”, said Jesus, “and my father is the husbandman.” “I am the vine, ye are the branches. He that abideth in me and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit.” Among the likenesses which Jesus pointed out, when he spoke of this true vine aspect, was the fact that those branches which grow out from his can exist in three forms. There is the branch which of its own accord withers and falls off; its fate is to be gathered by men and cast into the fire and burned. There is the branch which remains alive but produces no fruit; this, the Great Husbandman takes away. Thirdly, there is the branch which successfully bears fruit, which the husbandman values, cares for, and even purges that it may bring forth more fruit.
Out of this, of course, comes the fact that we are faced with three possible paths to tread. We may allow our interest to flag, following which we shall steadily wither and finally fall off into mundane things, and be gathered into the ways and company of the flesh, who will quickly destroy the last stick of spiritual life; or we can remain in Christ and never progress any further beyond the point of merely claiming to be “in Christ” — that is to say, a nominal Christadelphian only; or thirdly, we can be productive. To be of real value to our Father, however, to become a branch which will be admired and approved by him, requires an absolute single mindedness of purpose. It is not easily accomplished. We cannot make a resolution to bear fruit for God, and then proceed to work our hardest to bear fruit for ourselves. The span of time during which we can produce fruit to display to the Great Husbandman is steadily closing.
So let us realise that today God has a vineyard! He labours for it. He soon will call for the harvest of the good fruit, and also the destruction of the fruitless branches. This gives us a very short period of time in which to prepare to display our achievements. We can fritter it away or we can use it profitably. The choice is ours.
The Origin of the Organic World – Part One