"Matthew 20: Do you begrudge my generosity?"

Matthew 20

In the most recent opportunities I have had to share the Gospel with someone, the response has been the same: "I just can't believe that no matter what someone has done, all they have to do is believe in Jesus and they are forgiven and go to Heaven." More or less, they are saying that they are better than those "big sinners" like Jeffrey Dahmer who have reportedly been redeemed by Christ, and that only good people like them should go to Heaven.

I can't hold this view too much against my friends, because I share a similar one in my own heart. It began to be exposed a few weeks ago in a very inspiring conversation over coffee about service to the poor. It amazed me to hear someone speak so passionately about going to the dregs and witnessing to them, mainly because it hardly enters my mind to make eye contact with, or walk on the same side of the street as them. I am showing then that same attitude of superiority, and a worse one in my mind. At least those I witnessed to were separating themselves based on morality; I am simply on economic status!

In both cases, pride of entitlement is the root mentality. My friends think a "good person" should go to Heaven, rather than a redeemed sinner. I think I am too good to be seen speaking with a homeless person, and by extension, that they don't deserve to hear that same witness that my friends think is so foolish. Problem is, who is the more likely to respond? The more "sick" that needs a physician? My friends think they're all good and on their way. Now, to my growing shame, I don't know any homeless or truly materially needy people, but I bet they don't think such things about themselves.

Really though, the more likely responder is beside the point. The point in the case of our text is sovereignty and fairness defined by God. This pride, be it incredulity at God's forgiveness or haughtiness dictating who should hear about it, is a grudge against God's generosity to all He calls to Himself. All things are His, including all men's hearts. Who are we to question what He does with His own possessions?

Looking at it this way, my friends look like the sons of Zebedee (vv. 20-23), asking Jesus to sit them at his right or left as they smirk and scoff at those less deserving. Or in my specific case, I feel like the crowds rebuking the blind men pleading for Jesus to help them (vv. 29-34), and would deny them their salvation for my pride. What foolishness! Is my spirit richer than theirs? Am I more deserving of a wage than they are? I deserve nothing, have nothing, and will forever be nothing apart from the grace that saved me! Curse this flesh with it's pride and fear!

We work in God's vineyard and are doing the work of Christ. Who would he be serving? The wages are his to distribute, the grace is His to give, and I am no one to judge who receives them. God save us all, me especially, from continuing in this pride and fear of man that keeps us from obeying His command to serve and thus save the least of these. I for one need to grow in my understanding of who owns the vineyard and determines every one's wage.

Other Thoughts:
It seems that Jesus condemns the sons of Zebedee, James and John, to be martyred in his rebuke of their request, as referenced above. Yet John lived out his life and (I believe) by all accounts, died at a ripe old age in relative peace. Perhaps this is yet another study in this particular application of our text?

This is the first in a long and still going series of readings, sermons and conversations in which the Spirit has lead me to this theme of serving the poor, the homeless, elderly, widowed, etc. All of which I have always been too proud to go beyond supporting ministries financially in. I see now that this is not nearly enough. Please pray for me, and yourself as well, that He would continue this work and bear it's fruit sooner rather than later.