Based on a sermon
preached by The Reverend Andrew C. Mead, Rector of Saint Thomas's Church,
Fifth Avenue, in the City of New York,
on The Feast of Christ the King, Sunday, November 21, 2004
St. Luke's description of the crucifixion resembles a scene of a film in which the camera pans in from a wide angle to focus on the central action: from looking at the crowd of mocking and passive onlookers, to two individuals. Those two individuals are the two thieves crucified either side of Jesus. This afternoon I am going to take you on a journey from being one of those passive onlookers to identifying with one of those two individuals crucified with Jesus: namely, the repentant thief.
I also want to show you that the position of the repentant thief on the cross is not a place of death, but a place of life and Paradise.
Two momentous words of Jesus occur, one right before and one right after today's reading. Just before, Jesus, as he was crucified, said, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." Just after today's reading breaks off, Jesus says, "Father into thy hands I commend my spirit," and having said this, he breathed his last.
So there is an important sense in which the short time of Jesus' crucifixion described in today's reading compresses the content of his whole life and ministry into one Friday afternoon. Everyone is there looking at Jesus on his cross-the multitude of people, the religious leaders, the Roman authorities and soldiers, and finally, two thieves, two particular individuals. Saint Luke wants to take us from the onlookers to those two individuals, and he wants us to identify with one, the penitent thief.
It is important to see that the crowd is "standing by, watching." A distinction is drawn between the crowd and others. First, the religious leaders scoff. Second, the Roman soldiers mock. Third, one of the criminals rails. The scoffing, the mocking and the railing all come to the same thing: If Jesus is the Christ of God, the Chosen One, the King of the Jews, the Christ, let him save himself. The criminal adds an important rider:
"Save yourself and us."
They all mean, of course, come down from the cross and escape death. They do not imagine any salvation except that involving the avoidance of physical death and perpetuation of life. But Jesus had already restrained his disciples from fighting to save him from arrest, remarking that he also declined to ask for a troop of God's angels to save him in this way. Jesus had already chosen to lay down his life.
What is most awesome is Jesus' composure in his passion. He had struggled, he had sweat blood, earlier, facing all this in his prayers. But his composure seemed to madden the scoffers and mockers, even the criminal on the cross who railed at him. However, at that moment, it inspired a different response in the second criminal.
The second rebuked the first, saying, "Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed justly; for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong."
"Do you not fear God" is a most fitting thing to say. As worst-case scenarios go, the scene on Golgotha seems like an archetype. The physical pain was horrendous; the public humiliation was probably worse. Yet it was not these miseries that the penitent thief meant. It was not the bar of religious or political justice that he feared. He had undergone those. Now, it was God. All three of them, the two criminals and Jesus, were dying and going to the judgment of God.
The penitent thief does not use theological language in his regard for Jesus.
He regards Jesus and simply concludes:
"This man has done nothing wrong."
Perhaps the thief doesn't know what to make of all the business about Jesus and his kingdom. But for some reason, he is moved enough to say, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." This is enough for Jesus to reply, "Today you will be with me in Paradise."
The word, Paradise, is used only two other times in the entire New Testament, and both times it refers to the tree of life in the Garden of Eden. Now we see Jesus hanging on a tree of death, a cross erected on a place called the place of a skull. But in such a terrible spot new life begins. Jesus' cross is a new tree of life.
The Evangelist does not wish for any of us to be in such a painful spot as were Jesus and the two criminals in their crucifixion. May we all live long and die peacefully, without shame and without pain. But the fact is, my fellow onlookers in the crowd, we may escape the pain of crucifixion, but we are not going to get out of this world alive; we all have a certain appointment with death which, whatever the circumstances, means facing the judgment of God; and the issue put by the one thief to the other is an issue for all of us. The Gospel puts this issue to us, so that, like the penitent thief, we might turn to Christ for life.
Today's Gospel not only shows us how to die; it shows us how to live each day. "Today you shall be with me in Paradise," said Christ, and the Gospel says this word for us all. Paradise refers first of all to authentic, eternal life in itself, to be laid hold of here and now. Paradise certainly extends into death and beyond; the penitent thief, having asked to be remembered, would be taken with Christ through the valley of death into the kingdom of God. But wherever we are, Paradise, life, is to be seen embodied, personified, in Jesus. And we can indeed enter that abundant life here and now through putting our faith in Jesus.
The penitent thief, the person we are encouraged to join, was condemned by the world. More important, however, his time was up, and he was facing God. Yet precisely there, in that spot, was where his life began. At the beginning I said it was my purpose and that of the Evangelist, to get us to desire to be with the penitent thief.
Look at Jesus on his cross. Look past the scoffing, mocking and railing. Look and see that his cross is the Tree of Life. Blessed is he who is not offended in me, said Jesus. That blessing enables us to see that the cross, on which Jesus was so painfully lifted up, is our new life, our fresh start. It is the throne of Christ the King. The penitent thief saw enough to trust Jesus and ask to be remembered in his Kingdom. That request is called faith, and it makes all the difference-makes it possible to receive forgiveness and life. As we come to the Lord's table today in Holy Communion, let us take the penitent thief's lead to that place where we look at Christ and faith is born, where the door opens into life.
Amen.
(Neil Whitaker)
This sermon was first preached in the Metropolitan Community Church of Manchester. Click here for further information.