“So the last will be first, and the first last.” Matthew 20:16
The voice on the other end of the telephone was familiar, but I had never heard her so distressed. “What’s the matter, Cynthia?” I asked. “Are you OK?”
I’ll admit that I wasn’t in the mood for this call. It was late one summer Saturday afternoon. My morning had been filled with checking off items on the endless list of homeowner chores, and I was not ready for a deep conversation. But my friend sounded like she was in trouble.
“Have you seen the news today?” Cynthia continued. I told her that I hadn’t since my lawnmower wasn’t equipped with a television monitor. She didn’t laugh.
Cynthia proceeded to tell me that one of history’s most heinous criminals, a serial killer and mass murderer sitting it out on death row, had just asked Christ into his life and received God’s grace. The reporter hadn’t exactly used those words, but it seemed like that was what he was saying. My friend was livid. “Tell me that this horrible man will not go to heaven when he’s executed,” Cynthia pled. “Please tell me he’s not going to spend eternity with Jesus.”
I stood silent, holding the kitchen telephone in my hand. I said nothing, but my mind was spinning.
“Well?” Cynthia begged.
“We have no way of knowing exactly what has happened to this man,” I finally said. “But if this is true, and if he has asked God to pardon him for his sins, he’s going to heaven for sure.”
Now it was Cynthia’s turn to be silent.
After a few moments, I surprised myself by saying these words: “To be perfectly honest, I don’t like it either.”
Why should this man, months before his scheduled and well-deserved execution, have the same right to glory as missionaries who have sacrificially given fifty years, nurses who have tenderly ministered to the sick and dying, or parents who have faithfully sacrificed so their children would walk in the truth? How could this be?
The story of the landowner is, perhaps, the most troubling of all the parables, especially to those of us who live by the merit system. Paying someone a full day’s wage after only one hour of work just seems unfair. It is unfair. Pity the poor sucker who’s been at it for twelve hours and gets the same wage. How could the landowner be so inequitable, so heartless?
Here’s the truth: the repentant serial killer and the devout parson will both receive God’s blessing, His pardon, and a share of His eternal glory forever in equal measure. Why? Because neither the sinner nor the saint deserves the sovereign Lord’s favor. Even though the activities of these people have been worlds apart, their hearts are equally deceitful, wicked, and in need of redemption.
God’s favor cannot be earned. When you and I come to Him in sincere repentance, this fact cannot be denied: it is only ours because God has decided to give it to us. There’s no other reason. Period. And difficult though this may be for me, I have only one choice—to be thankful that He has offered me what He promised at the end of my workday.
This is no time to compare my performance with someone else’s effort. There is no competition for God’s favor. There should only be gratitude.