Three Men on their Crosses: A Palm Sunday Meditation on Luke 23

And one of the malefactors which

were hanged railed on him, saying,

If thou be Christ, save thyself and us.

But the other answering rebuked him, saying,

Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation?

And we indeed justly;  for we receive the due reward of our deeds:

but this man hath done nothing amiss.

And he said unto Jesus,

Lord, remember me when thou

 comest into thy kingdom.

And Jesus said unto him,

Verily I say unto thee,

Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.

In the Gospel reading for this Palm Sunday, the appointed lesson comes from Luke chapters 22 and 23.  Perhaps it is a sign of the softness of our age, that our liturgical text no longer corresponds to the triumphal entry of Christ into Jerusalem (hence the palms strewn upon the road, giving the day its namesake,) but rather attempts to encapsulate all of Holy Week into the morning’s reading.  I once asked an older pastor what the logic of this could possibly be, and he responded that perhaps too few people were showing up for Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services, so they wanted to get them into the people’s hearing somehow.  Thus our Gospel lesson includes the institution of the Lord’s Supper, the passionate prayer of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, Peter’s betrayal, Jesus’ mock trial, His crucifixion, and numerous other details far too numerous to adequately meditate upon in one sitting.  Even so, I hope I can be forgiven if the focus of my thoughts upon this Palm Sunday, turns to the conversation between three men dying on the same hill, and how illustrative they are to our common human condition.

Upon the hill of Calvary were crucified that day two thieves, and one Messiah.  Both thieves were there as the just sentence of their crimes, though the Scriptures do not share with us either their names nor the details of what they had done.  We might speculate on what kind of theft could justly bear the sentence of crucifixion, since this form of capital punishment was usually reserved for the most serious of malefactors—those who were involved in rebellion or treason, and whom the Roman Empire wanted to make examples of to the people at large through tortuous and public death.  Crucifixion was as much a spectacle for ensuring the people knew the gravity of certain crimes (thus incentivizing them to avoid it themselves) as it was a particularly horrible act of vengeance poured out by the authorities upon the transgressor.  Our western sensibilities have difficulty envisioning such an approach to crime, punishment, and public warning, though we see glimpses of this methodology in the evening news reports coming from brutal regimes around the world.  The Islamic State, when they behead or crucify or rape or torture or burn people alive, hearken back to methods and political theories very similar to those of pagan antiquity.  But regardless of how we might speculate upon the details of why the thieves were there next to Jesus, the Scriptures point out to us the most important detail:  they were there because they deserved to be.

Jesus, on the other hand, very much did not deserve to be there.  He was snatched by a murderous, treacherous, and illegal mob while praying at night in a garden; railroaded in a mock trial by His own countrymen intending only to convict Him; handed over to the territorial governor of an occupational power, who after beating him bloody couldn’t find anything wrong in Him; the chief priests threatened to mob the Roman outpost if Pilate refused to release the murderer Barabas and crucify Jesus; and finally the wonder-working, sinless prophet of Galilee was nailed to a cross to die publicly in the most gruesome, heinous, tortuous, and humiliating way they could think of.  His disciples and followers fled, save a few of the women and St. John, who looked on from a distance.  His chief disciple denied ever knowing Him.  His betraying disciple hanged himself in despair.  With the cruel ridicule of his betrayers and executioners ringing in His ears, the eternally begotten Son of God hung dying on a Palestinian hill, with justly condemned thieves on either side.

What the people could not see until their eyes were opened after the Easter Resurrection, was that this scene was and remains iconic of the entire human race. All mankind stands rightly condemned under the justice of Almighty God, awaiting their well earned sentence in hell; all mankind suffers through their own crucifixion of a life inexorably heading toward death; all mankind is justly dying temporally, condemned for eternity for their evil, wickedness, and pride, with our adversary the devil rolling in lurid satisfaction over our humiliating and tortuous demise.  And yet, into our death and suffering comes God Himself, to take on our flesh, and offer Himself a sacrifice for us all.  Our just sentence He took freely upon Himself, so that in His suffering and death, our sentence would be paid.

Like the two thieves who hung beside Jesus, every one of us can respond to Him and His sacrifice in one of two ways.  We could use our dying and suffering breath to heap scorn upon Him, to malign and dishonor Him, and with the short-sighted insanity of the railing thief insult the Son of God who enters into our suffering to save us.  Or, we could see and hear the Word of God made flesh, by His Holy Spirit working through His Word confess in faith that we are indeed sinners worthy of our death, pray for mercy, and beg Him to remember us when He comes into His Kingdom.  While for those who spurn the salvation of Jesus the Gospel may recede from their dying sight, the eyes of the penitent faithful open to eternal visions of beauty and salvation as they hear their Savior turn to them and say, “Verily I say to you, today you shall be with Me in paradise.”

What is true of these three men on their crosses, is also true of us.  None of them came down from their crucifixion except by death, and none of us will, either.  One by His death conquered sin, death, hell, and the power of the devil, opening the Kingdom of God to all who will repent and believe His Gospel.  One despised the Savior and His salvation, and passed by death into eternal perdition.  One by faith in Jesus passed from death to eternal life.

And there you hang upon the lonely hill of your own life’s crucifix, justly awaiting the day of your own death—but you do not hang there alone.  Beside you is the One who has entered your suffering with you, so that He might lead you from death to life.  Open your eyes to the wonders of the salvation He offers to you there, even in the midst of your suffering—of eternal life forever secured, of evil forever defeated, and your fellowship with your Creator and His people forever restored.  Hear Him, beloved—believe and live.  Amen.