There was a farmer who owns a large field of grain. It is harvest time, and the wheat is already golden brown and needs to be cut. It must not be left in the field very long because the wind or the rain may destroy the crop. Early in the morning he goes into the small town and calls for helpers to come and harvest his crop. The immediate response is favorable and many respond to the invitation.
When they arrive at the field they see the golden harvest and are deeply impressed. They talk about what a wonderful privilege it is to get to harvest so big and bountiful a crop. But someone points out that the fence around this field is not very attractive. It is an old rock fence and in many places the stones have tumbled down. So the people set to building a new fence. They spend all morning getting stones from a nearby stream which they use to build a beautiful wall around the field.
When the fence is finished, someone suggests, “Let’s get to work.” Someone else responds, “Wait, if the sun gets any hotter, or if it should rain, we will need shelter.” They all agree, so over in one corner of the field they build a shelter for themselves. It is so beautifully done that they decide to put a plaque on it, with names inscribe, so that everybody who passes by in generations to come will know just who was thoughtful enough to build such a wonderful shelter.
Then someone says, “Now let’s get to the harvest.” But others say, “It is noon and we ought first to eat.” So they work diligently until quite a feast is prepared. It is in keeping with the beautiful wall and the fine shelter and is a wonderful feast indeed. After the dinner is finished, there is a period of rest, of course, and then someone says, “Now for the harvest.” But someone else replies, “ With such a great responsibility and with such a great challenge before us, do we not need to be better dressed than we are?” Immediately, each provides for himself better garments with which to do the harvesting. Then again they turn their thought to the golden grain and begin to sharpen the scythes with which to cut the grain. After a while they are razor sharp. But as they look at the grubby old handles they are not satisfied. They are unworthy instruments for so great a work. So they begin to carve those ugly handles into beautiful pieces, and some even add intricate filigree work of gold and silver. One man is even able to adorn his scythe with mother of pearl. It is truly a beautiful thing.
Now they are ready to go to the harvest. But suddenly someone says, “It is night, the sun is gone down.” It is then that they realize that only a few have cut any grain. So these wonderful people (like us) turn back sorrowing with guilty feelings to meet the man who owns the field. He comes to meet them, expecting shoulders laden with heavy bags of grain, but instead he finds only beautiful tools and a story of wonderful fences and fine clothes and a good dinner and a shelter to take care of those who work. He asks sadly, “But where is the harvest?” the people are speechless and ashamed.
When they arrive at the field they see the golden harvest and are deeply impressed. They talk about what a wonderful privilege it is to get to harvest so big and bountiful a crop. But someone points out that the fence around this field is not very attractive. It is an old rock fence and in many places the stones have tumbled down. So the people set to building a new fence. They spend all morning getting stones from a nearby stream which they use to build a beautiful wall around the field.
When the fence is finished, someone suggests, “Let’s get to work.” Someone else responds, “Wait, if the sun gets any hotter, or if it should rain, we will need shelter.” They all agree, so over in one corner of the field they build a shelter for themselves. It is so beautifully done that they decide to put a plaque on it, with names inscribe, so that everybody who passes by in generations to come will know just who was thoughtful enough to build such a wonderful shelter.
Then someone says, “Now let’s get to the harvest.” But others say, “It is noon and we ought first to eat.” So they work diligently until quite a feast is prepared. It is in keeping with the beautiful wall and the fine shelter and is a wonderful feast indeed. After the dinner is finished, there is a period of rest, of course, and then someone says, “Now for the harvest.” But someone else replies, “ With such a great responsibility and with such a great challenge before us, do we not need to be better dressed than we are?” Immediately, each provides for himself better garments with which to do the harvesting. Then again they turn their thought to the golden grain and begin to sharpen the scythes with which to cut the grain. After a while they are razor sharp. But as they look at the grubby old handles they are not satisfied. They are unworthy instruments for so great a work. So they begin to carve those ugly handles into beautiful pieces, and some even add intricate filigree work of gold and silver. One man is even able to adorn his scythe with mother of pearl. It is truly a beautiful thing.
Now they are ready to go to the harvest. But suddenly someone says, “It is night, the sun is gone down.” It is then that they realize that only a few have cut any grain. So these wonderful people (like us) turn back sorrowing with guilty feelings to meet the man who owns the field. He comes to meet them, expecting shoulders laden with heavy bags of grain, but instead he finds only beautiful tools and a story of wonderful fences and fine clothes and a good dinner and a shelter to take care of those who work. He asks sadly, “But where is the harvest?” the people are speechless and ashamed.
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