We want everything to be fair.
From athletic events to elections, parity is of paramount importance to us. Accordingly we establish stringent rules, hire impartial officials, test vigorously, and thoroughly investigate any perceived infractions. To the greatest extent possible we want our competitions to be pure, with only skill and strategy emerging as determinant factors.
We also want the rule of law to be fair. We want the weight of the justice system to come down equally on those in power and those oppressed. We want people to be held accountable for their actions. And we don’t like the idea of special exceptions… until we do.
For it seems our cry when we are wronged is for justice, but when we or those we love do the wronging, we seek leniency. That once we see the human behind the act, our hearts soften and make room for grace. For while we love the idea of fairness, we also don’t want every mistake to be the end of someone’s opportunity, or even life.
We are left then to balance two seemingly opposed ideals: equality and grace. This challenge is highlighted in the parable of the prodigal son. You’ll remember in the story there are two brothers. The younger asks for his fair inheritance early and leaves spending it all capriciously. Penniless and facing starvation, he returns to his father who shows him grace, rejoices, and throws a celebration. Not surprisingly, this reaction doesn’t sit well with everyone.
“The older brother stalked off in an angry sulk and refused to join in. His father came out and tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t listen. The son said, ‘Look how many years I’ve stayed here serving you, never giving you one moment of grief, but have you ever thrown a party for me and my friends? Then this son of yours who has thrown away your money on whores shows up and you go all out with a feast!”
I don’t know how many times I’ve felt like this older brother, but the number has to be significant. I’ve gotten so frustrated when witnessing others recognized or celebrated, in my opinion errantly, when I felt I was the one who deserved praise.
However, the father turns it and makes a point that changes the narrative.
“His father said, ‘Son, you don’t understand. You’re with me all the time, and everything that is mine is yours— but this is a wonderful time, and we had to celebrate. This brother of yours was dead, and he’s alive! He was lost, and he’s found!”
The father explains that love and grace were the point, not parity. He recognizes that there is no comparison between the faithfulness of the two sons, but nonetheless wants to celebrate his son’s return. For what his wayward son needed in that moment was not to be held accountable, but to be shown love and grace. It isn’t about balancing a ledger but loving others even when they are less than lovable.
And the more I consider the ‘cosmic ledger,’ the less I see that to be the case. For what I deserve is in no way represented in what I have been blessed with. I have been shown awesome grace time and time again, and blessed with opportunities I could have never made claim to.
Perhaps we shouldn’t dwell on equality as our end state, but something better: love, understanding, and grace.