The other day I was driving to Chick Fil A for lunch whilst listening to a Jonathan Martin sermon called "The Absurdity of Grace" about the parable of the laborers in the vineyard and the prayers of the Pharisee and the tax collector.
I'd heard these story so many times in the past. I thought I understood them. The last shall be first, don't be arrogant. That makes sense to me, but when I listened to Martin riff on the topic I realized there was a big thing that I was missing.
You see, we look at these parables--particularly when we grow up in the church--as stories that just reveal the way that we should act and view the world. We know deep down that they reveal God but I wonder if we actually find him there in all of his beauty and grace. At face value, this parable is not something that should make us feel good inside. It is something that should baffle us with how unfair it is. I think that is one of the most beautiful things about God. We think we have him figured out. We can quote Micah 6:8 and we smile as we try to live up to it, but do we even know what justice means? How can we do it? We think we know, but then I see parables like these that if acted out in front of us would seem wholly unfair. A man who lives a "righteous" life, giving what he has and being disciplined, leaves unjustified while the man who extorts and steals is justified because he humbled himself in a moment of utter weakness. The laborers who work one hour are paid the same as the ones who worked all day. It would drive anyone mad so that leaves me to think that my own definition of what is "fair" needs a re-evaluation. Martin says in his sermon,
"What makes God so much more glorious than us is not that he is so much more bright and shiny than we are--this abstract hazy thing called the glory of God. In Isaiah that famous verse that says, "His ways are higher than our ways and his thoughts are higher than our thoughts" comes directly after God telling his wayward sons and daughters that he will forgive their sins without any impunity. What is the point? The basis of the glory of God has always been his mercy...has always been his love. What makes him so glorious and what makes him so holy is not the fact that he shines on Sinai but that his love and his mercy and compassion are infinitely beyond any form of human comparison. It is a love that absolutely defies any capacity we have for reason. It doesn't makes sense!"
The Gospel does not make sense. What Christ did for us is insane, and that is what makes it beautiful. Grace is not fair. Relient K has been saying that for years, and I knew it, but sometimes I forget. One of my favorite bands has a song called The Cave and in it they say, "so come out of your cave walking on your hands and see the world hanging upside down you can understand dependence when you know the maker's land." We think we see the world as it really is, but by accepting the gospel we are essentially called to see the world completely upside down. Completely scandalized by the grace that was given to us. (There's a great article that goes far more in depth on the content behind these lyrics that you can check out here.)
I don't know. I often get these things wrong, but as I drove back to work I found myself just utterly amazed again by the gospel. When I began to slip back into reality Mumford and Sons sang back at me, "It seems that all my bridges have been burnt, but you say that's exactly how this grace thing works. It's not the long walk home that will change this heart, but the welcome I receive with a restart."
How often do I get caught up in my own righteousness (that is like filthy rags by the way. an utter mess.) but it is not the works that I do or the long walk that I take to return to my father begging his forgiveness that changes me. It's the open arms that race towards me as they eagerly awaited my return. In my life I play both the role of the prodigal who runs from her father for selfish reasons only to come back humbly on my knees and of the prideful son who remains and misses that the father has already given me everything and jealously watches the return of the prodigal thinking myself righteous because of what I have done. I am no better nor am I worse than any person I have met and I pray, I truly pray that when this euphoria of seeing God rightly--or as rightly as I can in this life--fades that he will continue to remind me that there really is nothing I can do except continually die to myself and awaken to his beautiful calling on my life.
Like Lazarus from the grave all I can do is rise when I hear my savior's voice calling me.
I will continue to roll away that stone until I am called finally home.
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