‘These who were hired last worked only one hour,’ they said, ‘and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the work and the heat of the day.’ “But he answered one of them, ‘I am not being unfair to you, friend. Didn’t you agree to work for a denarius? Take your pay and go. I want to give the one who was hired last the same as I gave you. Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?’ “So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”
Matthew 20:12-16
The world is a dangerous place. It swirls with wickedness like a snake around your ankles, silent and evil. It is slick and prowling, waiting for you to succumb, like weak and easy prey. You must be vigilant, always protective of yourself, your character, and your image. Never let your secret sin be seen and be a vessel of righteousness. While it is true that we are asked as the church to follow some moral traits, we have bought these traits and wear them as the garments of our holiness, a visage of our goodness before God.
It is exhausting. It is more chore than praise, with our sin waiting a millimeter from our soiled hearts, waiting to devour us whole. Day in and day out we strive. We run the race with endurance. It is so hard.
When Jesus was crucified he was surrounded on both sides by the crosses of wicked men. In various Bible translations they are called thieves, criminals, rebels. Unlike Christ, their punishment was deserved. They had not taken a righteous step before their impending death, and possibly had not been good people for a long time. Though, one of them made an effort to “do the right thing”. He defended Jesus to his scoffing fellow criminal. But then he did the most audacious thing. He asked Jesus to remember him. This thief stole grace from Christ. He didn’t earn it. He never walked the path of righteousness. He never struggled to earn his holiness. He simply took it. How dare he?
We have never earned our righteousness either. We may call on Him on our deathbed, or love Him from the time we were 4, but we never earned His forgiveness. We have not earned His grace. No one does.
We are all thieves of grace. And perhaps, that is the greatest joy. That fallen and confused humans can do nothing righteous. We see with eyes that are clouded and weak and hearts that are fragile and wrong. Our failure leads us on paths of unrighteousness and our feet slip so easily until we have drifted so quickly to still another debacle. And yet, we have been given grace. Undeserved favor. It is a blessing beyond comprehension.
It is worthy of endless praise, of infinite song. It is such a simple concept it seems absurd. Surely there must be more to do. But really, there is not. The deathbed confession, the request of the thief on the cross, the ineligibility of a sin-soaked human that pleads “save me, Lord” become the mighty words of our Lord and Savior. And the words are “it is finished”. The eternal sacrifice was made for undeserved favor before God.
Our souls can rest in the simplicity of this. But since simple is seldom easy, we must cling to our faith. Our joy spurs our actions and the fruit our actions bear, but it does not make us worthy of salvation. Only a simple act of faith in Christ is the thing that gives us grace. Faith that He has saved us. That our flawed souls are sanctified by His sacrifice. That our imperfect image is made perfect by faith in Christ alone. We are complete and we are perfect because of the grace that He has given to all who merely ask. It is not earned. It is freely given.
Written by Janet Keefe
