The Question of Fairness

On last Thursday's blog--The Question We're Really Asking--I raised the issue of fairness. "Is God fair?" I asked. This brought some interesting comments from you. Thanks for the interaction. Today I'm going to follow-up with a story I heard years ago from professor, author and theologian, R. C. Sproul.

Dr. Sproul was assigned an Old Testament class of 250 freshmen. In his syllabus he clearly set forth the course requirements. There would be three small papers due by noon on September 30, October 30 and November 30. They were to be finished and on his desk by noon unless the student was physically confined to the hospital or a there was a death in the family. If they didn't submit it in time, they would receive a failing grade.

When September 30th rolled around and the first paper was due 225 students turned their papers in on time and 25 were late. These 25 were scared to death and with abject humility appealed to Professor Sproul, “Please don’t give us an 'F!'" The begged for mercy, wanting an extension.

"OK," the professor relented, "I'll let it go this time. But remember, on October 30 the next paper is due. Don't be late."

"We won't, Professor. Promise!"

October 30th arrived and only 200 papers were turned in on time. Fifty students came to class in terror. They pled with him with abundant excuses about it being midterm and homecoming. "Give us one more chance," they begged.

"OK. Just one more chance."

The class broke out into song, “We love you, Prof. Sproul, O yes we do.” Dr. Sproul claims that for the next thirty days he was the most popular professor on campus. But then November 30th came. This time only about 150 papers were turned in on time and a hundred students came into class as casual as could be. They weren't worried in the least.

“Where are your papers?” Dr. Sproul demanded.

“Hey, Prof, don’t worry about it. We’ll get them done in a couple of days," came the relaxed response.

The professor took out the grading book, “Johnson, where's your paper."

"I don't have it, sir."

"F.”

“Greenwood—I don't have yours either. F.”

Professor Sproul describes the response as "unmitigated fury."

“That’s not fair!” Greenwood claimed.

"I don’t ever want to be thought of as unfair or unjust. You want justice?”

“Yes!”

"You were late last time, too. ‘F’ for that one. Anyone else want justice?”

“No!”

I don't know how Dr. Sproul finally resolved the grade issue, but he finished telling his story with a powerful statement, "By the third time, they not only assumed mercy, they demanded it. They assumed I was obligated to be merciful. They had become accustomed to grace. Ours is a history of grace. God is so gracious to us that we can begin to take it for granted. The most difficult theological question I’ve ever had to face in my life is this, 'Why has God been so kind to me?'”

I've told that story many times, but am still impacted by it. It makes me think: Why are we more surprised by God's wrath in the Bible than His mercy? Is it possible that we've become accustomed to His grace? Is it possible that we assume we deserve grace but not judgment? I think this is precisely where many people today find themselves, although they would be reluctant to admit it.

Let me conclude by coming back to where I started. Maybe the question is not so much, "Why do bad things happen to good people" or "Why do good things happen to bad people," as it is "Why do good things happen to any of us?"

Grace isn't fair…and I'm glad.