Monday, November 21, 2022

Forgiveness and Faith at the Cross

Jesu Juva

St. Luke 23:27-43                                                         

November 20, 2022

Last Sunday – C                    

Dear saints of our Savior~

          Were you expecting to get Good Friday today?  At first glance it seems like an odd choice for this final Sunday.  It’s somewhat strange to have a Good Friday text as we think about the end of time and the return of Christ.  Weren’t you at least a little surprised?  A more traditional choice for this Sunday might have been a parable about sheep and goats, or about wise and foolish bridesmaids.

          But a pastor I know makes the case that this text is very appropriate for this Sunday.  He makes the point that the terrible scene of Jesus hanging from the cross is actually Jesus’ final public appearance.  The last view that the general public gets of Jesus—the final image they see—is of Jesus crucified, bleeding, dying, persecuted, ridiculed, mocked and spit-upon.  That’s the final portrait the world gets of Jesus until He comes again in glory to judge the living and the dead. 

          It’s true that Jesus was seen by many witnesses in the forty days following His resurrection:  Mary Magdalene saw Him first.  He appeared to the two disciples on the road to Emmaus.  At one point even 500 would see the risen Christ.  Eleven would watch Him ascend into heaven.  Yet none of that was for the general public.  The world’s final image of Jesus—the last snapshot they have—is one with nails, blood, and a crown of thorns.

          It’s certainly no surprise that among the Savior’s final words from the cross are these:  Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.  Forgiveness was the defining message of Jesus’ ministry. That prayer (“Father, forgive them”) wasn’t offered only for those who crucified Him, but for all of humanity and for all of our collective insanity and violence.  Forgive them.  They don’t know what they are doing.

          That’s certainly true for us.  We have no idea.  Concerning our sin, we don’t “know” the half of it!  We have absolutely no concept of the damage each one of us has done by our sinning.  We have no realization of how angry words we spewed out years ago still echo in the hearts of those against whom we raged.  Words of teasing and taunting from long ago still torture today.  We can’t begin to comprehend the vast ripple effect of our adulteries and idolatries, the hate and the hurt we regularly hurl at anyone who dares to stand in our way or inconvenience us in the slightest.  In a strange way we are fortunate—so fortunate!—that we can’t “know” the full effect of our sins—all the casualties and victims we have left in our wake.  For if we could—if we could fully and truly “know” all the damage we have personally inflicted on this world—it would crush us. 

But from the cross, in His final appearance before all the world, Jesus prays for you:  Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.  But Jesus—Jesus knows what He is doing.  He accepts the sour wine and sarcasm.  He gags and gasps for air knowing that He is hanging there for you—as your substitute.  He bears your sins.  Where you have miserably failed, He will succeed.  Where you have inflicted hurt and harm on the world, He will bring eternal healing.  In His damnation is Your redemption, the forgiveness of our sins.  And that is everything.

Jesus’ last public appearance was on Good Friday.  His next public appearance will be when He comes again—when Judgment Day arrives.  And Judgment Day and Good Friday will be similar in some respects.  The two criminals separated by Jesus on Good Friday—well, they’re kind of like the sheep and the goats, the wise and the foolish, the believing and the unbelieving.  Those two evil-doers are a preview of what will come on the Last Day:  Two sinners, separated by the sinless Son of God, one on His right hand and the other on His left. 

Both of these criminals, of course, were guilty as charged.  Their public executions were intended to be an example and a warning to the general public.  Both were guilty, just as you and I stand guilty of insurrection against God—guilty of wanting to be gods in place of God—guilty of willingly and knowingly violating His holy law.  Those two criminals show us that those who are saved and those who are condemned are equally guilty.  You aren’t saved because you’re from a better class of sinners than those who are damned.  There’s no distinction at all.  All have sinned.  All fall short of the glory of God.  All are condemned beneath the Law of God.

One of those criminals railed against Jesus in unbelief.  “Save yourself!  Save us!  What kind of a Messiah are you anyway?”  He makes it clear:  You either love Jesus in faith, or you hate Jesus in unbelief.  This unbeliever mocks the only Savior He has.  Even in the grasp of death, he joins his voice with those who mocked and reviled Jesus.  His salvation is right there next to him!  But he refuses to see it, to acknowledge and confess it.  In the crucified Christ is pardon for sins, acquittal before God, the promise of Paradise.  But he will have none of it.  It’s so tragic and so sad.  Unbelief is always that way.

But the other evil-doer believes.  He is faithful.  He even tries to witness to his fellow criminal:  “Don’t you fear God?”  He preaches the Law to his partner in crime:  “We are receiving the due reward of our deeds.  We deserve this.”  He might just as well have said the wages of sin is death.  We deserve this.  You deserve this.  We all do.  No one escapes this.  “But this man—the one who hangs between us—he has done nothing wrong.”  He confesses Christ.  He bears witness to Jesus—that He is innocent—that He is sinless. 

And yet in the mystery of God’s mercy, God made the innocent, sinless Jesus to be sin for us.  Jesus is the criminal.  Jesus is the terrorist.  Jesus is the murderer.  He became our sin—the sin of the world.  He becomes our sin, so that in Him we might be righteous.  Although this man has done nothing wrong, yet this Man dies as one who had done everything wrong—and is thus forsaken by God, condemned, persecuted, mocked, ridiculed and damned.  He gets what we deserve so that, in the end, you will get what He deserves.

And then comes one of the best prayers ever uttered:  Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.  This is how faith prays.  He asks for nothing but to


be remembered by Jesus.  He doesn’t ask to be saved from the cross, to be spared his suffering, to be granted a last minute pardon.  Just, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”  As death closed in, he wasn’t overcome with regrets or guilt or anger or even fear.  All that mattered to him was Jesus.

Dear Christian, see yourself right there—right there with Jesus on the cross.  For that’s what your baptism has done for you.  It places you right there at the right hand of the crucified Son of God.  Through baptism you have been crucified with Christ.  You no longer live; Christ lives in you.  You have been buried with Him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, you too might have a new life.  You too have the same promise from the Savior’s lips:  Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.

A guilty criminal is pardoned before God—justified for Jesus’ sake.  Though the world found him guilty and sentenced him to die for his deeds, the Son of God declared him to be not guilty—righteous—fit for life in Paradise.  Though he dies for his crimes, he receives pardon for every sin by the sinless Son of God who died right next to him. 

Today as you confess your sins—as you are remembered by Jesus in the meal of His body and blood—you follow in the way of that repentant criminal.  You stand pardoned before God.  You are justified through faith in Jesus.  The world may judge you harshly and find you lacking.  But Jesus declares you righteous and holy.  You are an heir of Paradise too.

He’s coming again, this Jesus.  Only He will come again as King of Kings and Lord of Lords with great power and might.  And when He comes again He will not be looking for the best behaved sinners, or the sinners who have the best excuses, or even the sinners who feel the most regret over their sins.  He will be looking—and listening—for faith.  And the prayer of faith is always this:  Jesus, remember me.  And the Savior’s response is always the same:  Truly, you will be with me in Paradise. 

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

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