Paradise
Sermon
A Cry from the Cross
Sermons on the Seven Last Words of Christ
Object:
One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, "Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!" But the other rebuked him, saying, "Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong." Then he said, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." He replied, "Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise."
-- Luke 23:39-43
"Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do." That was the first word from the cross, and it's amazing. How could someone who is dying on a cross forgive the very ones who put him there? How could he forgive people who mocked and scorned him? Yet, to our amazement, Jesus did just that, reaching out in love to those who rejected him and his message. He spoke these words because he wanted to gather them to himself, even as a mother hen seeks to gather her chicks to herself (Luke 13:34).
We find this offer of forgiveness strange, but then this is who Jesus was. He was always forgiving the seemingly unforgivable people, whether they were sinners or tax collectors, rich or poor. Jesus touched lepers, healed the blind and lame, and talked theology with "disreputable" women. At the beginning of his ministry, he turned to Isaiah and claimed the mantle of God's anointed. Having been empowered and commissioned by the Spirit of God, Jesus came to bring good news to the poor and proclaim release to the captives; he came to bring recovery of sight to the blind and to set the oppressed free. Yes, he came to proclaim the year of jubilee, the year of the Lord's favor (Luke 4:18-19). Setting prisoners and captives free was Jesus' mission, but now with his life hanging in the balance, how would he set anyone free? Now it was Jesus that needed to be set free.
Could it be that in his very act of giving up his life, he offered a way of freedom? Could it be that to die is to gain life? (Philippians 1:21). What we count as important doesn't seem important to Jesus. As Paul says of Jesus, though in the form of God, he "did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness" (Philippians 2:6-7). And being found "in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death -- even death on the cross." Here we have Jesus, the servant king, taking on human flesh and putting his life on the line for others, even for people who scorn and mock him. This is unthinkable to us, but this is the way of God.
As we ponder Jesus' offer of forgiveness, we hear a man cry out from one of the adjacent crosses. He shouts at Jesus: "Save yourself, why don't you? That is, if you really are the Messiah. And, then while you're at it, save us as well." Do you hear the tone of this voice? It appears to be the cry of an embittered man, a man who had seen his share of messiahs come and go. Perhaps he'd been part of a messianic band, the follower of one of the many pretenders to messianic glory. First-century Judea was full of such liberators, but they'd all fallen short of their goal, and most of them had ended up on crosses, just like Jesus. Perhaps this man thought that Jesus was going to be the one to toss out the hated Romans, but now his presence on the cross marked him as a failure.
Whatever this "transgressor's" earlier loyalties, he expressed the feelings of the many who'd failed to find freedom and peace under Roman rule. Like so many others who'd experienced unending oppression, he seemed ready to turn his back on God -- the God of Israel -- in frustration. After all, if the God of Israel was the one Lord of the cosmos, why did Israel suffer under foreign domination? Why didn't Israel find its freedom? Why must it continue to be the suffering servant?
In the midst of this stream of bitterness and anger, another voice was heard. This voice came from the other cross. Like the first voice, this second one was probably that of a rebel, since the Romans liked to use crucifixion to send a message to would-be rebels. The cross, as a symbol, said to each person: "This could happen to you if you should choose to disobey!" Although we don't know anything about either man, this "transgressor" evidently saw something different in Jesus. Instead of bitterness, this voice expressed a sense of hope for the future. Looking within himself, he saw a life that was less than perfect, but when he looked over at Jesus, he saw innocence and hope. Instead of mocking Jesus, this man asked Jesus to remember him in the kingdom.
Two voices were heard from men who shared the agony of the cross with Jesus. One was full of bitterness and disillusionment, while the other one was full of hope and expectation. Did this second voice really understand the request he was making? Perhaps he still hoped Jesus would find a way to climb down from the cross and lead a rebellion that would bring Israel back to its former glory. But unless God intervened or Jesus' followers rose up to rescue him before his death, how could this happen? We will never know the meaning of the man's request, but it appears in the gospel as a word of faith.
Whatever the man meant by this request, the truth is that Jesus experienced the same agony and pain as his fellow victims. In the midst of his suffering, Jesus reached out to the one who sought his help and said, "Today you will be with me in paradise." Yes, he promised the man, "You will be with me in the garden of God's presence, in that promised place of peace and reconciliation, of freedom and joy." Karl Rahner caught the spirit of Jesus' words:
You are now in the agony of death, your heart is filled to the brim with anguish, and yet you still have a place in that heart for the sufferings of another. You are at the point of death, and yet you are concerned about a criminal, who even in his agony must admit that the hellish pangs of his death are but the just punishment for his evil life.1
Here on the cross, Jesus spoke for the welcoming Father, who reached out to the prodigal, to the one who had squandered life's possibilities. Jesus invited him to celebrate a homecoming. Yes, in Jesus, God reaches out to the man, offering him reconciliation by beckoning him to paradise and to rest (2 Corinthians 5:17).
In these words of grace we hear the heart of Jesus reaching out to the one in need:
Come to me all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.
-- Matthew 11:28-30
In offering paradise, Jesus offers peace and healing and rest.
Standing at the foot of the cross, we expect to hear words of bitterness, anger, and pain. We hear some of this, but we don't hear such words coming from Jesus' lips. It's true that in time we'll hear anguished sounds coming from him, but for now, what we hear is a word of grace and forgiveness. While experiencing his own pain, he reached out to the one who suffered, and he offered the man a word of healing, as well.
Numbered among the transgressors, Jesus reached out to this one who was a transgressor and promised reconciliation. It was an offer made to the one, but it is also extended to the man. The one who sought forgiveness from Jesus was like the prodigal. He realized that he'd made the wrong choice in the past. Back then, he hadn't chosen wisely; but perhaps, at the end of his life, he could make the wise choice. In response, Jesus, like the prodigal's father, offered him a word of grace. Surely there is something of the prodigal in all of us, and so these words strike deep into our hearts. Perhaps you're like me and you don't know what to make of the offer. But our hope, it seems, lies in the one who died on the cross. Yes, even those of us who may have spurned his call are offered the promise of paradise.
__________
1. Karl Rahner, Prayers for a Lifetime (New York: Crossroads, 1984), p. 50.
-- Luke 23:39-43
"Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do." That was the first word from the cross, and it's amazing. How could someone who is dying on a cross forgive the very ones who put him there? How could he forgive people who mocked and scorned him? Yet, to our amazement, Jesus did just that, reaching out in love to those who rejected him and his message. He spoke these words because he wanted to gather them to himself, even as a mother hen seeks to gather her chicks to herself (Luke 13:34).
We find this offer of forgiveness strange, but then this is who Jesus was. He was always forgiving the seemingly unforgivable people, whether they were sinners or tax collectors, rich or poor. Jesus touched lepers, healed the blind and lame, and talked theology with "disreputable" women. At the beginning of his ministry, he turned to Isaiah and claimed the mantle of God's anointed. Having been empowered and commissioned by the Spirit of God, Jesus came to bring good news to the poor and proclaim release to the captives; he came to bring recovery of sight to the blind and to set the oppressed free. Yes, he came to proclaim the year of jubilee, the year of the Lord's favor (Luke 4:18-19). Setting prisoners and captives free was Jesus' mission, but now with his life hanging in the balance, how would he set anyone free? Now it was Jesus that needed to be set free.
Could it be that in his very act of giving up his life, he offered a way of freedom? Could it be that to die is to gain life? (Philippians 1:21). What we count as important doesn't seem important to Jesus. As Paul says of Jesus, though in the form of God, he "did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness" (Philippians 2:6-7). And being found "in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death -- even death on the cross." Here we have Jesus, the servant king, taking on human flesh and putting his life on the line for others, even for people who scorn and mock him. This is unthinkable to us, but this is the way of God.
As we ponder Jesus' offer of forgiveness, we hear a man cry out from one of the adjacent crosses. He shouts at Jesus: "Save yourself, why don't you? That is, if you really are the Messiah. And, then while you're at it, save us as well." Do you hear the tone of this voice? It appears to be the cry of an embittered man, a man who had seen his share of messiahs come and go. Perhaps he'd been part of a messianic band, the follower of one of the many pretenders to messianic glory. First-century Judea was full of such liberators, but they'd all fallen short of their goal, and most of them had ended up on crosses, just like Jesus. Perhaps this man thought that Jesus was going to be the one to toss out the hated Romans, but now his presence on the cross marked him as a failure.
Whatever this "transgressor's" earlier loyalties, he expressed the feelings of the many who'd failed to find freedom and peace under Roman rule. Like so many others who'd experienced unending oppression, he seemed ready to turn his back on God -- the God of Israel -- in frustration. After all, if the God of Israel was the one Lord of the cosmos, why did Israel suffer under foreign domination? Why didn't Israel find its freedom? Why must it continue to be the suffering servant?
In the midst of this stream of bitterness and anger, another voice was heard. This voice came from the other cross. Like the first voice, this second one was probably that of a rebel, since the Romans liked to use crucifixion to send a message to would-be rebels. The cross, as a symbol, said to each person: "This could happen to you if you should choose to disobey!" Although we don't know anything about either man, this "transgressor" evidently saw something different in Jesus. Instead of bitterness, this voice expressed a sense of hope for the future. Looking within himself, he saw a life that was less than perfect, but when he looked over at Jesus, he saw innocence and hope. Instead of mocking Jesus, this man asked Jesus to remember him in the kingdom.
Two voices were heard from men who shared the agony of the cross with Jesus. One was full of bitterness and disillusionment, while the other one was full of hope and expectation. Did this second voice really understand the request he was making? Perhaps he still hoped Jesus would find a way to climb down from the cross and lead a rebellion that would bring Israel back to its former glory. But unless God intervened or Jesus' followers rose up to rescue him before his death, how could this happen? We will never know the meaning of the man's request, but it appears in the gospel as a word of faith.
Whatever the man meant by this request, the truth is that Jesus experienced the same agony and pain as his fellow victims. In the midst of his suffering, Jesus reached out to the one who sought his help and said, "Today you will be with me in paradise." Yes, he promised the man, "You will be with me in the garden of God's presence, in that promised place of peace and reconciliation, of freedom and joy." Karl Rahner caught the spirit of Jesus' words:
You are now in the agony of death, your heart is filled to the brim with anguish, and yet you still have a place in that heart for the sufferings of another. You are at the point of death, and yet you are concerned about a criminal, who even in his agony must admit that the hellish pangs of his death are but the just punishment for his evil life.1
Here on the cross, Jesus spoke for the welcoming Father, who reached out to the prodigal, to the one who had squandered life's possibilities. Jesus invited him to celebrate a homecoming. Yes, in Jesus, God reaches out to the man, offering him reconciliation by beckoning him to paradise and to rest (2 Corinthians 5:17).
In these words of grace we hear the heart of Jesus reaching out to the one in need:
Come to me all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.
-- Matthew 11:28-30
In offering paradise, Jesus offers peace and healing and rest.
Standing at the foot of the cross, we expect to hear words of bitterness, anger, and pain. We hear some of this, but we don't hear such words coming from Jesus' lips. It's true that in time we'll hear anguished sounds coming from him, but for now, what we hear is a word of grace and forgiveness. While experiencing his own pain, he reached out to the one who suffered, and he offered the man a word of healing, as well.
Numbered among the transgressors, Jesus reached out to this one who was a transgressor and promised reconciliation. It was an offer made to the one, but it is also extended to the man. The one who sought forgiveness from Jesus was like the prodigal. He realized that he'd made the wrong choice in the past. Back then, he hadn't chosen wisely; but perhaps, at the end of his life, he could make the wise choice. In response, Jesus, like the prodigal's father, offered him a word of grace. Surely there is something of the prodigal in all of us, and so these words strike deep into our hearts. Perhaps you're like me and you don't know what to make of the offer. But our hope, it seems, lies in the one who died on the cross. Yes, even those of us who may have spurned his call are offered the promise of paradise.
__________
1. Karl Rahner, Prayers for a Lifetime (New York: Crossroads, 1984), p. 50.
