Crescent Hill Baptist Church
Crescent Hill Baptist Church
Louisville, Kentucky
The Fifth Sunday in Lent
March 25, 2007
W. Gregory Pope
Tuning Our Ears at the Cross:
The Seven Last Words of Christ
REMEMBERED
“Today, you will be with me in Paradise”
Luke 23:32-43
Barbara Brown Taylor gives attention to how this time of year trios of crosses spring up all across the countryside. She said she used to think that we should stop with one cross, but she has since changed her mind. She says, “One cross is not the same message as three crosses. One cross makes a crucifix. Three crosses make a church.”[1]
Theologian Karl Barth says it was the very first church.
I think there is much to appreciate in these insights of Taylor and Barth. It says to me that the cross of Jesus is not complete without our participation, without our cross. And it says to me that the church is not a gathering of perfect people in a beautiful place.
Fleming Rutledge says, “Jesus was crucified not on the altar between two candles but on Golgatha between two [criminals].”[2]
No, the church is not a gathering of perfect people in a beautiful place. Rather, the church gathers as a group of sinners in the midst of suffering - our own suffering and the suffering of others - and Jesus is present with arms stretched out in love to embrace any and all who would come.
When Jesus died, Mark’s Gospel tells us that all of his disciples forsook him and fled. It even seemed to Jesus that God had forsaken him. John’s Gospel tells us that Mary his mother and the beloved disciple, perhaps John, were at the foot of his cross. But we do not know how long they stayed. I cannot imagine his mother leaving. Luke’s Gospel tells us his acquaintances were watching from afar. In a unique way, Luke also lets us know that Jesus was not alone. He was in the company of soldiers who were mocking him and criminals who were being crucified with him.
At first glance, it seems so out of place that Jesus would die in such a way. But when you think more deeply, it makes perfect sense. For this One sent from God spent his entire life in the company of sinners, showering God’s healing grace upon those wounded by their own sin and the sins of others. And so it is only fitting that he would die among sinners, continuing to offer the wide embrace of God’s welcome and mercy to those on death row and in prisons of their own making. On the cross Jesus is seeking and saving still. He died just as he lived.
Some translations call these other two on crosses “thieves,” but that is too tame a translation. They were violent criminals, not petty thieves. They belonged in the penitentiary, not the county jail. You wouldn’t want Barney Fife watching over these guys!
A couple of weeks ago we recalled Isaiah’s vision of the Suffering Servant being attached to Jesus as “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.” Today we return to Isaiah’s Suffering Servant of whom it was said, “With outlaws he was reckoned.” “Numbered among the transgressors,” not the religious establishment, not the politically connected, not the good, upstanding pillars of the community, but numbered among the transgressors, the outlaws.
It could very well be said that some of us are among the religious establishment, the politically connected, the good, upstanding pillars of the community. But we must also see ourselves as these two criminals, “with our masks of innocence and our delusions about our own righteousness.”[3]
Here at the cross we are invited to remove our masks, to step away from our delusions of righteousness, confess our sin, and receive the welcoming embrace of God’s grace in the outstretched arms of Jesus Christ.
Yes, it only makes sense: The One who came to seek and save the lost lived his life among the lost and now is dying among the lost.
These two criminals were being punished for falling below society’s standards. Jesus was being punished for rising above society’s standards. He was being crucified not for being bad for being too good. George Bernard Shaw said, upon hearing of the assassination of Mahatma Ghandi, “It shows how dangerous it is to be too good.”[4]
Today, we hear what perhaps were Jesus’ last words to another human being, and they were spoken to a criminal on a cross next to him. They are, as you might expect, words of saving grace. Words of saving grace in the midst of mockery.
Luke’s account of the crucifixion records three mockings aimed at Jesus, all three having the same theme.
First, there were the onlookers: “He saved others; let him save himself.”
Second, there were the soldiers: “If you’re the King of the Jews, save yourself!”
The third mocking came from one of the criminals on the cross: “You’re the Messiah, aren’t you? Then save yourself and us.”
Did you hear it? Three times: Save yourself! Save yourself! Save yourself!
The greatest and last temptation of Christ was to save his own life rather than die as the Savior of the world. But Jesus’ mission was not to save himself but to seek and save the lost, to reveal the violence of self-righteous religion joined with the politics of fear. To show us the way of non-violent power and self-giving love, and to teach us in word and unforgettable deed what it means to love your enemy, and the lengths to which God will go to save us from our sin and ourselves. To look upon the cross is to see the kind of love that is saving the world.
The criminal on Jesus’ other side said to the one who’d just mocked Jesus: “Do you not fear God? We are crucified justly, but this man has done nothing wrong.”
And he was right. Jesus had done nothing wrong. He healed people and taught the love of God and neighbor, he showed kindness to all, befriended the outcast, forgave sinners, embraced the unclean, blessed children, elevated women, and lived the steadfast love of God. This man had done nothing wrong.
He only lived the scandal of unconditional love and grace. And for some reason, in this world where grace is not seen as a moral virtue, that kind of life will get you crucified.
Will Willimon is right: We are so lost we often cannot tell the difference between our enemies and our saviors.[5]
Notice the criminal on the cross did not stop with Jesus’ innocence. “Do you not fear God?” he said to the other. He knew that here on the cross was more than just a good man of good will and good works who’d never harmed anybody. Here was, to use the words of Gardner Taylor, “a King climbing great red stairs of pain toward a coronation.” Here was the Lamb of God who taketh away the sins of the world reigning from a cross of love.
So the criminal rendered one last request: “Jesus, when you come into your kingdom, remember me.”
To be remembered. That’s what we want, isn’t it? I said last week that perhaps our greatest fear was to be forsaken. Maybe not. Perhaps our greatest fear is to be forgotten.
We want to be remembered, don’t we? Remembered by our families, hopefully for generations. Remembered by our friends and neighbors, classmates and associates. Many want to be remembered for being gracious and loving toward others, making a difference in people’s lives.
Others just want to make a name for themselves. So, if they have money they try to give enough to have a building named after them. But even buildings will not last forever.
Some commit heinous crimes in order to be remembered. If it was the desire of Hitler and Stalin to be remembered, they achieved their goal. However, even one day their dastardly deeds will be forgotten.
The only remembrance that really matters is the remembrance that takes place on that hill called Mt. Calvary. To be remembered by the One who gave himself for us. To be remembered not for what we have done but simply for who we are, God’s Beloved.
“Jesus, remember me.” That was the man’s simple plea.
And Jesus replied, “Truly, I say to you today, you will be with me in Paradise.”
“While we were still sinners Christ died for us,” says Paul.
And with nail-pierced hands he says to each of us, “You will be with me in Paradise.”
Jesus not only promises us a destination in Paradise, but promises to be with us in Paradise and to take us there himself. Remember what he said to his disciples the night before his death?
I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to myself, so that where I am there you will be also.
Jesus says to the criminal and to us, “I’ll take you there myself. I’ll be with you through it all. I’ll be with you in the valley of the darkest shadow. I’ll take your hand as you walk through death’s fearsome door and lead you to the gate of heaven myself. You will be with me in Paradise.”
This dying man with his ruined life, fully aware of his own sin and need for grace, speaks his heart, “Jesus, remember me.” Only a plea, a last request. There is no “sinner’s prayer” or baptism, church membership or tithing. No time for that. Just the prayer of a sinner: “Jesus, remember me.” And Jesus says, “You will be with me in Paradise.”
This moment in the life of Jesus and this criminal reaffirms the notion that Jesus will indeed accept last-minute, death-bed conversions. It is yet another reminder that salvation is by grace alone, and that repentance is not so much a condition of forgiveness as it is a consequence of it. Salvation is not conditioned on repentance or good works, but by our heart’s surrender to the grace of God. We repent, we change our lives, because we discover how much we have been forgiven.
I remember reading an old Stephen Shoemaker sermon when he was in Texas where he told about an old friend of his from Kentucky, Wendell Arnett. Wendell shared with him the old quip about the man on his death-bed who was asked by the preacher, “Do you renounce the devil?” And the man replied, “Preacher, now’s not the time to be making new enemies!”
He’s right, especially with God.
But God will take us whenever we’re willing to come. God is that foolish and his love that extravagant. If we try and wait til the end of our lives, we will be received by God, but we will have missed out on the very reason for our birth and life - to enjoy God and the gifts of life in this world God has made just for us.
Some would say that such last-minute grace is just not fair. However, I do not believe when we stand before God at the end of our days, we will be asking for fairness. If we do, we’re greater fools than God. I think we’ll all be pleading for mercy and grace.
But I don’t think this conversation on the cross is just about death-bed conversions. Willimon says that if Jesus had been walking along some Galilean road rather than hanging here on the cross, and if Jesus and this criminal had had many years of life on this earth still ahead of them, that this conversation would have gone exactly the same way.
For when Jesus speaks of “Paradise,” he is not talking so much of a place where they may go someday, but as a relationship that we may enter today. Paradise, says Willimon, is whenever, wherever you are with Jesus. Even in suffering. Even on a cross.
Of course, we expect our relationship with Jesus will be deeper, richer, and more full once we have passed beyond the frustrations and limitations of this present life. But that relationship begins here, now, even if not in its fullness.[6]
If today you would call on Jesus to receive you, to forgive you, he would say to you what he said to that criminal almost 2000 years ago. He would call your name and say “Today, you will be with me in paradise.”
It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, his arms of grace are extended as wide as the world. It’s almost as if he were born with his arms outstretched to the world. He lived his life reaching out through barriers and boundaries of every kind. Even the nails in his hands could not constrain his reach. He reaches all the way down to hell itself, determined to gather us all in his embrace.
The Apostles’ Creed says of Jesus that “he was crucified, dead, and buried” and that before his resurrection “he descended into hell.” What was he doing in hell? One has suggested he was looking for his friend Judas Iscariot. Judas had done something so wrong he could not forgive himself, and feeling incapable of being forgiven, in bitter tears of regret, he hanged himself. Well, Jesus went looking for him, and in hell he found him. He walked over to him, kissed him, took him by the hand, and said “Today, you will be with me in paradise.”[7]
Do you get it? “God refuses to have us lost.”[8]
That’s what this cross is all about.
So, will you give up your lostness today and be found in the open arms of this Savior on the cross, seeking and saving still? Remembering not your sin but his love for you. He is listening for your voice.
____________________
1. Barbara Brown Taylor, Home By Another Way, Cowley, 1999, 90.
2. Fleming Rutledge, The Seven Last Words From the Cross, Eerdmans, 2005, 16.
3. Ibid., 21.
4. Peter Storey, Listening at Golgatha, Upper Room Books, 2004, 31.
5. William Willimon, Thank God It’s Friday, Abingdon, 2006, x.
6. Ibid., 20.
7. Tarjei Park in Seven Words For Three Hours, Darton, Longman and Todd, 2005, 69.
8. Stanley Hauerwas, Cross-Shattered Christ, Brazos, 2004, 66.
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CRESCENT HILL BAPTIST CHURCH
2800 Frankfort Avenue
Louisville, Kentucky 40206
(502) 896-4425
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