The second of Jesus’ 7 “words” spoken from the cross:

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“Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.”
Luke 23:43 NIV

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The other crosses

When Jesus was crucified, we are told that two other convicts joined him on that dusty hilltop. One on each side.

They are described in the gospel accounts as both criminals and rebels. But though we aren’t told the exact details of their crimes, they’d been sentenced to die.

And as they waited on death row for the grim day to finally come, they would have been completely resigned to their fate. Men don’t undergo a Roman crucifixion and live to tell the tale. So as the sun dawned on that Friday morning, and they trudged up to the place the locals called “The Skull”, you can only imagine what they were thinking.

That this was their final sunrise. That tomorrow might never come. But if it did, it would be with unimaginable pain. If they were lucky, the religious zealouts might come and break their legs, making sure they were dead before the Sabbath. That was the best they could hope for.

When hope fades

But in reality, all hope was gone. It had flickered briefly when word came that Pilate would be setting someone free, as was custom at this time of year. But when the prison guard came to call the lucky man’s name, it was fellow rebel “Barrabas” they heard instead of their own. Which really stung. He was a murderer after all! The word was that Pilate had wanted this Jesus character released, but the crowd wouldn’t have it.

The disappointing king

They’d heard the strange rumours about this Jesus who was now stumbling up the hill beside them. There were stories of him doing things that men couldn’t do. Tales of storms stilled and dead girls raised, with nothing more than a word. But any glimmer of hope that he could help now vanished. They looked up and saw his pathetic frame struggling on the slope ahead. He was a sorry sight. Too bloodied and exhausted from his flogging, his friend had been forced to carry his cross for him.

So much for the “King of the Jews” as the sign above his head proclaimed.

He was so pitiful that when the soldiers started taunting him, they decided to join in. Even when their crosses were raised to stand beside his, they both “heaped insults on him“. Instead of retaliating, Jesus uttered something about forgiveness. What sort of criminal was this man?

Rebel requests

As the morning wore on, desperation gripped one of the rebels. He called to Jesus; “Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!”

A Messiah was indeed supposed to save. But this rebel could turn his head just enough to see the blood-soaked profile of Jesus beside him. It was clear he didn’t have long left. He thought that if Jesus saved himself, he could save him. But if Jesus died, there would be no saving anyone.

He can’t save himself, he can’t save me, so he can’t be the Messiah.  That was the first rebel’s conclusion.

But the other criminal had a different logic.

Instead of joining in with the chorus of abuse, he issued a rebuke in the opposite direction, saying; “Don’t you fear God?”

This was a man who knew his death was imminent. That knew he was a guilty man and deserving of his punishment. This was a man who feared death and the God he might meet when it came.

But when he looked over at Jesus, he didn’t see another guilty criminal. He saw an innocent King. He says:

“This man has done nothing wrong.”

He shouldn’t be on that cross. Barrabas should be. I should be. But not him. He is totally without blame. Like a lamb led to the slaughter.

And so he too makes a request of Jesus, but quite a different one from the first rebel:

“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

Somehow, as he looked at this bleeding, gasping figure, with hands pinned wide. His hope didn’t die.

Seeing the unseen

He saw a crown prince about to become King. He saw a kingdom after death where Jesus was on a throne, not a cross. Where the crown was of gold, not thorns. Where death was coronation, not the end. 

Somehow, this rebel saw Jesus’ suffering and death as proof of his royalty, rather than denials of it. Like that Roman soldier, this man’s view of Jesus transforms beyond all recognition as he beholds him. From slander to song. From abuse to adoration. Once blind, now seeing. This is a work that God does in people as they look at Jesus. You can ask him to open your eyes as you read this too. The cross might seem foolish to you now, it certainly did to the rebel and the soldier and myself when we first encountered it. But explore it, give it at least a morning like they did. Then you might come to the wonderful conclusion:

By not saving himself, he can save me, so he is the Messiah King. This was the second rebel’s conclusion.

He concluded that his only hope in life and death was Jesus and his death for him.

Hear Jesus’ reply to this conclusion:

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

Make no mistake, Jesus tells him. Before this day is done. I will indeed be in my kingdom. And you’re coming with me.

This rebel had no qualification for entry into paradise. No merit of his own to earn admission. He had nothing, nothing but the invitation of Jesus. But this was enough to change his forever, forever.

“On what basis are you here?“

In the video below, Alistair Begg imagines the scene at the gates of this heavenly paradise when this former rebel arrives.

This man who had lived a life of crime. Who had never stepped foot in a church. Who knew no theology, doctrine or scripture. Now in paradise.

When the angels realise just how odd this is, they finally ask him; “On what basis are you here?” His simple answer:

“The man on the middle cross said I could come!”

And this is ultimately the only answer. This can be your answer too. Not because of your “goodness”, not because of your “holiness” but simply because of Jesus.

You are not disqualified because of “badness” or “sin” in your past. This invitation is in complete defiance of what you might think you deserve. Because it is the invitation of grace.

And you are extended this same invitation. One that can give you a different forever, today. Look at Jesus this Easter. See what he did and listen to his words. Behold the one who lays down his life in sacrificial love to save rebels, see the one cut off so the guilty might enter in.

In Jesus, there is hope for the despairing,  forgiveness for the criminal and paradise for the dying.

It is never too late to look to Jesus. You are never beyond the reach of his invitation. Indeed, if you’re reading this, it’s reached you now.

And if one day you find yourself at those pearly gates. Accompanied by nothing but a lifetime of mistakes and regrets, but having looked to Jesus like the rebel did. Then at just that moment when you start to wonder if you really belong. Hear the voice of King Jesus thunder from across the throne room:

“They’re with me!”