The Wonderous Crossنموونە

The Penitent Thief

At first, he joined in the mockery. Why should he be punished, when Barabbas went free? If Jesus really was the Christ, why wouldn’t he save himself and the two criminals with him? Pain and anger seethed through his body like a forest set ablaze.

Then Jesus said something so outrageous that it stopped the thief’s rage like a campfire suddenly doused with water, “Father, forgive them they don’t know what they’re doing.”

No doubt, the thief had wasted his life. Who knew how many lives were ruined because of his greed and selfishness? But in a rare moment of clarity, he looked out from the perch of his cross and saw through the way things appeared and saw them for what they really were.

He saw the chief priests huddled together hurling insults at Jesus, and below him, the soldiers laughed and gambled for his garments. Beneath all the commotion, he knew he deserved this ridicule and torture, and Jesus did not.

He had heard the charges, and read the sign Pilate nailed above his head. Somehow, he knew Jesus was the King of the Jews. For the first time in ages, he felt a flicker of hope welling up in his soul.

If Jesus was willing to forgive those who were crucifying him, maybe he’d forgive him too?

In the midst of all mockery, this is the most profound example of grace in all of Scripture. When it looked like death had won, and God was defeated, the tables were being turned. The way things appeared, was not reality. By not saving himself, Jesus was saving the thief, and he was saving you and me.

The sinful dying man called out to the sinless Savior, and said, “Yeshua, will you remember me?”

Jesus slowly turned his head to look the thief straight in the eyes, lifting the corner of his mouth ever-so-slightly, and said…

“Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

The thief’s greatest fear was relieved, and his final victory won. His eternal destination switched and secured. He did nothing to aid in his salvation, and yet Jesus knew he believed, and saved him.

Like the thief, your hands and mine are open and empty. We can’t bring anything or do anything to help in this holy transaction. Someday, if an angel at the gates of heaven ever asks you, “Why should you be allowed in?” The answer can’t be that you did anything to deserve entrance. Like the thief, you can say, “Because the man on the middle cross said, I could come.”