Same Wage, One Wage

The thief on the cross begs for heaven in the evening of life and still gets in. Dismas is his name. He’s Saint Dismas, actually. Saint?! What gives?

This criminal cries out to Christ in the final hour of his miserable, displeasing life, and is consoled by the words, “This day, you will be with me in paradise.” But what about all of those people who tried to love God all their life long?

Could it be that there is only one wage, that those who’ve served God from their youth can expect to receive the same reward as the deathbed conversion? The parable that Jesus tells his disciples this Sunday sure makes it seem so.

The laborers whose work began early in the day received the same wage as those who were called to work at 5PM, just one hour before closing time. One “hour.” Every time Jesus uses the word “hour” He is referring to His death.

It’s His death on the cross, and His death alone, that makes any of us worthy of heaven. We have no merits to plead our cause before God. We have only the sacrifice and the prayers of the Man on the cross to thank for our salvation.

We have been purchased. We are not our own. We did not give ourselves life in this world. And we can do anything on our own to gain life in the world to come. Nor can we purchase it. It is a gift, given as freely by God as He gives life to the womb.

“Are you envious because I am generous?” He asks. If we’re honest, sometimes we are. We don’t like the idea of someone showing up late and receiving from God the same wage as we who will have born the day’s burden and the heat.

And yet, our ways are not God’s ways. He is not a capitalist. He does not need to be. He is at the head of all things already. Nor is Christ, the Son of God, a capitalist. He is the capital of humanity already. He stands at the helm of creation.

This is why Saint Paul can say, “for to me life is Christ, and death is gain.” Paul does not want for anything. He is a man who knows the truth of his own worth. He is a man for whom Christ died, so death is no loss; it means seeing the face of Christ.

And what shall we say when we see Him? Will we question why so-and-so is with Him in glory? Or will we be like Saint Dismas, who humbled himself and allowed even his own judgment of things to be overcome by the merciful face of Christ? +