Text: Luke 23:33-43 (NRSV)
3When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. 34 [Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.”] And they cast lots to divide his clothing.35 And the people stood by, watching; but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!” 36 The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine, 37 and saying, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” 38 There was also an inscription over him, “This is the King of the Jews.”
39One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” 40 But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41 And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.” 42 Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” 43 He replied, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”
In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity. Amen
This week’s Gospel lesson is something of a shock, isn’t it? We’re in the throes of “holiday mode,” looking ahead to Thanksgiving Day on Thursday, and after that, our preparations for Christmas really get into high gear. Next week is the first Sunday of Advent, when we read, think, and sing a lot about what? The Baby Jesus! So when we read about the Crucifixion, we kind of do a double take! In the space of a week, we’re going to travel the long distance from Crucifixion back to Birth!
It seems a bit…backward, doesn’t it? Once again, we wonder – what is going on here?
Part of the answer is that today is the last Sunday of the church year. Over the course of the last several months, we have followed Jesus and the disciples on their journey to Jerusalem. And today is the culmination of that journey, the terrible day of the Crucifixion.
Today is also the day on our church calendar called “Christ the King” or “Reign of Christ” Sunday. This is a fairly recent development in the universal church. It was first observed in 1925, as a way to emphasize the supremacy of Christ against what was even then seen as growing secularism in Western society, as well as against the rise of a particularly virulent nationalism – which would, a few short years thereafter, result in World War II. This observance was intended to be a joyous feast honoring Christ, who is the “Rex Mundi,” the “King of the World.”
Yet, despite the fact that today is the last Sunday of the church year, it still seems rather jarring that Luke’s account of Jesus’ Crucifixion is the lesson chosen for today.
Completely aside from the fact that it is the logical and predicted conclusion of Jesus’ journey, as he himself said repeatedly, I think that this passage was deliberately chosen to jar us, to shake us up. If the idea were to show the lordship and the triumph of Christ over the world, passages about the Resurrection could have been chosen. But they weren’t; this one was, because it is a necessary and sobering reminder. We are so used to the Biblical titles of Jesus – Son of God, Messiah, King – we have so thoroughly absorbed these words as words for church, worship, and for lofty anthems that their simple, stark, earthly force is largely lost. Behind these words is a brutal reality – a reality that we all too easily shove back into a dark corner of the broom closet of our minds, behind the mops and cleaning cloths. It is an unpleasant, unappetizing, disquieting reality of torture, of agony, of blood – lots of blood. So not only is it important for us to recognize Jesus as the King of the World, but we also need to be reminded of what the King of the World did and suffered for our sake. We love to repeat that Jesus overcame the world; this passage tells us how he did it.
One of the difficulties we face is that the concept of a “king” is foreign to us Americans. We don’t have a king, we’ve never had one, and we don’t want one, either, thank you so much – so the difficulty is that, when we think about kings at all, we all think of them in an abstract, even fictional, sense, like the kings on “Game of Thrones,” or in the “Lord of the Rings” movies. We think of kings of legend, like King Arthur, for example, or Henry VIII of England, or any number of medieval kings. We think of kings in a pretty one-dimensional sense, as all-powerful men who hold the reins of power tightly in their hands and direct their minions according to their indomitable will; and, if they fail to carry out the king’s commands, it’s “off with their heads”! And, sure, there have been many kings like that throughout history. We’ve all read about them.
The people of Jesus’ day, as we all know, were looking for exactly that kind of king. They wanted a powerful, ruthless warrior who would sweep into town and clean house, who would get rid of the Romans once and for all and restore Israel to its former glory. They wanted a hero, a general, a leader of armies – they wanted a new David. They wanted – wanted desperately – a return to the good old days, when Israel was a major player among the countries of the region, when the kings of other countries thought twice, and then one more time, before deciding to attack, when Israel was known far and wide as a land of wealth and power. That’s what they wanted.
But instead, as Bruce Prewer writes, they got a king “who:
- never went to a university
- never wrote a book
- never held any public office
- never had any friends in high places
- never traveled outside of his own little country
- never met anyone more important than a provincial governor.
His only crown – a wreath of thorns.
His only throne – two crossed planks of wood.
At his right hand, and at his left, two dying thieves.”[1]
Not exactly the resume of a great and powerful ruler. Who ever heard of a king who had no armies? Who ever heard of a king who didn’t even have any territories under his control? Who ever heard of a king who didn’t have a treasury? Who ever heard of a king who didn’t have any subjects?
This is why all the people around Jesus – even the disciples – missed the truth. This is why, when they finally did come to understand what Jesus was telling them – namely, that his kingdom was not of this world – they felt at first a profound sense of disappointment which was soon followed by confusion and then sheer terror. If the cavalry wasn’t about to come over the hill, what was going to happen to them?
Remember that when Jesus told the disciples that his plan was to go to Jerusalem and die so that the Scriptures would be fulfilled, Peter actually rebuked him! He said, in effect, “That’s your plan? That’s no plan at all! NO – we have to get the people riled up! We have to raise an army! We have to get swords, and spears, and armor, and horses!” Jesus, of course, would have none of it. Eventually, Peter calmed down and got with the program.
But not Judas. Some scholars theorize that this is the turning point for Judas. He was a member of a radical group that worked tirelessly to harass the Romans, and he’d signed on with Jesus because he thought that Jesus had the same agenda. When it became clear that Jesus had an agenda that was far different from his, Judas turned on him. That’s the theory, anyway. As it turns out, Judas had feet of clay that went up to his earlobes. When it came to this crucial test of faith, he failed. Judas thought that some cosmic mistake had obviously been made.
But God does not make mistakes.
As so often happens in the Gospels, it takes an outsider to recognize what everyone else has missed.
This time, it’s one of the criminals being crucified along with Jesus. A more unlikely source of spiritual insight would be difficult to find.
There are many traditions about these two thieves. They’ve even been given various names throughout the centuries. The “good,” or “penitent” thief, has been assigned the name “Dismas” (though there are some variations). The “bad,” or “unrepentant” thief has been named “Gestas.” These names are first mentioned in a book that was written later called “The Gospel of Nicodemus.” Whether these men really had these names is unknown. Equally unknown is what exactly their crimes were – thievery takes many forms – but what is known is that the crimes were enough to get them crucified, that is to say, killed in the most hideous way possible. [2]
Imagine the scene: “Jesus hangs on the cross. He’s been up there so long that gravity has taken its toll. The wounds on his head and hands no longer freely bleed. The bloodstains on his face and palms have dried to a dark-wine crust. His shoulders creak with pain. The crowd, who had called for his execution, is watching silently now, but the soldiers and the leaders mock him. The sign on the cross mocks him: ‘Jesus, King of the Jews.’ Even one of the criminals hanging beside him mocks him, daring him to save himself and the criminal, too. In his eyes, that battered, bleeding man next to him is no king. This is just another troublemaker who got what he deserved.
“But the criminal on Jesus’ other side sees something more in him than a loser, a failed religious leader. This criminal chastises the first one: “We are being justly punished, but this man doesn’t deserve this. He did nothing wrong.”[3] Then this criminal, this bandit, asks Jesus to remember him when he comes into his kingdom. He gets it! And this is not just a personal request; it is nothing less than the recognition that Jesus is exactly what the crowd put on the sign over his head to mock him – he is the King! He is the King, not just of this world, but of all worlds.
For us, too, it is a matter of insight and existential perspective. David Lose writes, “We seek out those things and people who grant us a measure of security and who affirm our values…Jesus doesn’t do that. He refuses to come in power but instead appears in abject vulnerability. He does not vow retribution on even those who crucify him but instead offers forgiveness. He does not come down off his cross to prove his kingly status but instead remains on that instrument of torture and humiliation, the representative of all who suffer unjustly.”[4]
Quite remarkable. But even more remarkable is what happens next – the act of mercy from Jesus our King. He says, “Truly, I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”
Jesus didn’t come to save himself; he came to save others. And that is exactly what he did, there, even on the cross, in plain sight of the people who were too stuck in their own arrogance and pride to recognize our miracle-working God saving all of us by allowing Jesus to die. They saw, but did not perceive. They were looking for a throne, and did not understand that that cross was the Throne of Grace!
Jesus came to save us. You and me. We have but to call upon Jesus for help, and that help is ours. And that help is ours today. Not tomorrow. Not someday in some far-off time. Today.
But it’s so easy to lose sight of this in the midst of our sometimes scary lives. Sometimes we’re like that mocking crowd, in the sense that we get blinded by our own perceived position in the world. Sometimes we feel as though we’re being persecuted and put upon. We feel that justice and fairness is being withheld from us and squandered on others who clearly do not deserve them. So we throw in with those who we think will give us the edge we deserve. We might get lucky – for a while. But then we wind up bitter and disappointed. At other times, the exact opposite is the case: We are the ones sitting on the throne, and we like it that way. And that might work for a while, too; but eventually we find that being at the top isn’t quite what it’s cracked up to be. We realize that there can be only one king or queen in our lives, and we aren’t it.
We can avoid a lot of heartache just by not getting on the throne in the first place and just letting Jesus the King preside.
As great as our “kingdoms” might seem to us, they’re nothing compared to the kingdom Jesus offers – the Kingdom, the Reign of God Himself!
That is what Jesus offers us. That is what he granted us when he claimed us at our baptisms.
Let us accept that offer today. Let us open our eyes and see Christ the King, and turn the thrones of our lives over to Him!
In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity. Amen.
[1] http://www.bruceprewer.com/DocC/C64king.htm
[2] https://gotquestions.org/Dismas-and-Gestas.html
[3] http://rev2bmibi.blogspot.co.nz/2010/11/todays-sermon-luke-2333-43-you-never.html
[4] http://www.davidlose.net/2016/11/christ-the-king-c-what-kind-of-king-do-you-want/