There simply is no middle ground. He does not leave us that option. Either we look to Him for salvation and sustenance or we refuse and go our own prideful, determined way.
The first thief, incredibly, rails against Jesus and joins in with the chorus of blasphemous insults. "Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!" he demands. (Lk 23:39) But not the other thief. I have often contemplated what that second thief must have been feeling as he hung on that cross, naked, bleeding, humiliated, in agony. He knew he deserved this most horrific and terrifying of deaths on a cross. He recalled all the mistakes, all the sins, all the callousness and carelessness of his debauched life, and he knew his hated cross was ultimately, for him, inevitable and deserved.
But this second thief watched Jesus beside him. What drew his eyes to the Savior? Was it Jesus' inner strength even in the agonizing weakness of physical pain? Was it the Lord's compassion even as He was shown nothing but hatred and humiliation? Was it the quiet dignity and regal bearing of One seemingly from another world? Surely this thief observed that as others mocked and spit upon Him, Jesus responds with bewildering love and shocking forgiveness.
And so the second thief rebukes the first thief: "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." And then in the one of the most poignant moments in the Bible, this poor, lost, wasted soul appeals out of his utter poverty of need, his desperate lack of anything to offer, and simply says to the Perfect Savior: "Jesus, remember me when You come into Your kingdom." (Lk.23:42) He couldn't even bring himself to ask for more: just "remember me." He knew he deserved nothing, and so he asks for just the merest scrap of remembrance by the One who had created and known him before he was yet born.
Surely at this moment, the Lord Jesus could not be bothered with such an insignificant, undeserving, undesirable wretch of a human. Surely the work of redemption would require all Jesus' focus and effort, and this waste of a man could not begin to dream he would be given even a passing thought by the Creator and Sustainer of the world. Surely this was far too much to ask of the Perfect One.
Not this Savior. Not our Savior. "And He said to him, 'Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.'" (Lk 23:43) Who can begin to understand such forgiveness. Such compassion. Such love. Such grace.
And can you imagine what this meant to that thief? From devastation and desperation to deliverance. From despair to hope. From a certainty of hell to a certainty of heaven. From the knowledge of what he deserved--death for his sins--to the knowledge of what he would receive--grace and redemption by the Savior. Unfathomable.
Might we never forget, however, that we, too, are those thieves. "For there are many ways to steal. We take back our promises, rob the truth of others' reputations as we slander them, and run away with a friend's joy when we argue--so we often break God's law." (Carmen Butcher) And just as with that second thief, Jesus will never ever ever turn away a heart that comes in poverty of spirit, in child-like need and trust. The desperate need and trust that recognizes: we cannot... but He can. That we are weak... but He is strong. That we don't know what to do.... but our eyes are upon Him. That we have nothing to offer save our sin... but His forgiveness and grace are infinite and freely available to all. Yes, might we all emulate that second thief and come to Jesus with our need and our weakness and our sin and find salvation and redemption and hope.
What I have not often considered, however, is that we can also be like that other thief--the unrepentant thief. How I hate that--I don't want to be associated in anyway shape or form with the first thief who, to the bitter end, rejects and mocks the Lord Jesus and refuses to turn to Him by faith. Nonetheless, the sad, terrible truth is in my impatience, my pride, my self-sufficiency I can also be that petulant, "irascible thief, demanding, 'Are you not the Messiah? Save Yourself and us!'" Stamping my foot and declaring, "I want it now, Jesus!" or "I want it my way, not your way!"
As one writer, Carmen Butcher put it, "Whenever we encounter hardship, we ought not let ourselves grow impatient, instead we should embrace this image of God hanging on the cross between a penitent lawbreaker and an angry one, and pray that we will always be the one turning to Christ in suffering and sin asking Him, 'Remember me.'"
Turning to Him to meet our need. Turning to Him to forgive our sins. Turning to Him for strength and sustenance. Turning to Him in gratitude and dependence. Rather than looking to any lesser thing or any other idol this world claims will satisfy our restless souls... and never ever ultimately does.
So today, consider the two thieves and choose well. Choose wisely to Whom or to what you will turn. Where will you seek satisfaction today? Where will you seek strength to see you through the hard, dark places in your life? Where will you turn for grace and joy and love and forgiveness? The choice is clear. Look to the cross and live. And choose daily, hourly, to go to the Redeemer, handing Him your moment by moment need and sin and accepting His strength and grace. To our Savior, our Sustainer, our Strength, our Redeemer, be all the glory.
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