RADICAL GRACE IS GLORIOUSLY UNFAIR

      “Grace. Radical grace. Free grace. Unconditional grace. It's an awkward thing. For ourselves, it's seems too-good-to-be-true because we know our actions, thoughts, and secrets... and when it comes to others, it seems unfair. Consider the parable about the master who paid workers who showed up at 5pm the same amount as he paid those who started work at 6am. (Matt. 20) I know I supposed to rejoice with the 5 o'clock crowd because I'm one of them, but I can't help but feel bad for those who worked all day for the same reward. Grace is a mysterious thing. When we receive it, it can be a bit embarrassing and when others receive it, it can make us angry and resentful if our spirits aren't settled. 
    Philip Yancey tells of a young girl who ran away from her home in Traverse City because her parents were too strict. She ran to Detroit and fell into the hands of a man whom she would later call “Boss.” She did “tricks” for him and got by for a year or so, but then, she ended up on the streets, where her spirit broke and instead of feeling grown and independent, she felt little and vulnerable, and wanted to go home. So she bought a bus ticket and headed home. It was a 7-hour trip and and she rehearsed her apology many times. She also wondered if anyone would be at the station to meet her because she had been gone for some time. Finally, the bus pulled into town and she walked into the depot, not knowing what she would find… when she saw a large banner saying “Welcome Home,” and at least 40 members of her family applauding, with silly party hats on their hats. When her dad stepped forward to greet her, she started to tell him how sorry she was, but he told her that they didn’t have time for that. “You’ll be late for your party,” he said, “We have a banquet ready at home!”

      I read of a woman who cared for her father as he died. She had always cared for him and she did a good job of it. Indeed, she did a good job at everything and, when her father asked her to handle his funeral arrangements, she wasn't surprised. She was eager to do that for him and she was proud when he asked her to sing a special song. After her father died, she arranged everything and practiced her song again and again. But on the day of the funeral, her ne’er-do- well brother walked in, shabbily dressed, poorly groomed, and with his latest girlfriend in tow. He had never been much of a son or a brother… but there he stood, and people were telling him how great it was to see him and how happy his dad would be. It made her sick and then it occurred to her: the song her father wanted sung was about forgiveness. It was about grace. It was for her brother… and she resolved right then, that she would not sing the song! 

      Our last story is the well-known story that we call the “prodigal son.” As the story goes, a father had two sons and a lot of land. But one day, his youngest son asked him to give him the money he would receive if his father was dead. He wanted to see the world, and when his father gave him his inheritance early, he split for the city lights. In time he ended up feeding pigs, and to make matters worse, he was so hungry that he desired the food he was feeding to the pigs. Finally, he “came to his senses,” and decided to go home. Well, as we know, his father saw him coming up the road and when he saw him, he ran down the dusty road to meet his son and reinstated him into the family. Then he told his servants to prepare a banquet. This they did and there was a lot of laughter coming from house… when the dedicated older brother made his way from from the field. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Your brother is back and your father is throwing a shindig,” someone said. When he heard this, the older brother became furious and refused to go into the house. He refused to join the party and his father came out to plead with him. “Look,” his eldest son said, “I’ve slaved for you for years. I’ve never been disobedient and you never even hosted a get-together for me and my friends. Now, this irresponsible youngest son of yours stumbles home and you throw a party.” “My son,” the father replied. “Everything I have is yours, but we had to celebrate because your brother was lost and has been found. He was dead and is alive again!”

      Amazing Grace can seem terribly unfair, unearned… and of course, it is. It must be because it's God’s nature to save. It is God’s nature to forgive. But the question for us today is this: what is our nature? Even though she put her parents and herself through unmentioned pain, would you have attended the banquet for the run-away teen? Would you have sung the song of grace that your father wanted you to sing? Would you have attended the party for your younger brother?  I don't know. I would like to think that I would've sung the song, but I'm not sure I would've embraced my younger brother. How about you? 
      Finally, from “The Ragamuffin Gospel,” a statement that really challenges me. “I believe," the author writes, "that among the countless number of people standing in front of the throne… I shall see the prostitute from the Kit-Kat Ranch in Carson City, who tearfully told me that she could find no other employment to support her two-year-old son. I shall see the woman who had an abortion and is haunted by guilt and remorse but did the best she could, faced with grueling alternatives; the businessman besieged with debt who sold his integrity in a series of desperate transactions; the insecure clergyman addicted to being liked…the sexually abused teen who, as he falls asleep each night, whispers the name of the unknown God he learned about in Sunday school. There 'we' are - the multitude who so wanted to be faithful, who at times got soiled by life, and bested by trials, wearing the bloodied garments of life's tribulations, but through it all clung to faith. My friends," Manning concludes, "if this is not good news to you, you have never understood the gospel of grace.”