Homily for the Last Lenten Midweek

[The Passion: V. CALVARY]
In the end, we're either one or the other. We're either the thief on the left or on the right. Death catches up with us, and when it does, what do we say to the Lord?

The first thief was basically crying: "Not fair." And he was telling the Lord Jesus what a wimpy sort of Lord he was if he couldn't save himself and us from having to die. "Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!"

And there are plenty who go into death, their voices and their hearts raging at the Lord; wondering what on earth good is a God who can't get them out of that last looming crisis.

But there is another way to die. It's not that it's any less painful. It hurts just as much. But it has a peace about it that is unmistakable.

The other thief rebuked the first one. Said to him the remarkable words: "Do you not fear God since you are under the same condemnation? And we indeed justly, for we are getting what we deserve for what we have done; but this man has done nothing wrong."

Ponder those words! The second thief, seeing our Lord Jesus suffering along with him is amazed. He recognizes the fundamental truth about the passion: we get what we deserve, but this man has done nothing wrong. And yet he is suffering, and yet he is dying.

When the suffering comes to you, as it finally will, the first step to peace is to say: "And this is what I have deserved. This is what my every choice for sin was bringing me. This is what I WANTED, what I EMBRACED, what I RAN AFTER. Now I get to see what this thing is that I have preferred to my God, to Him who is life. Now I see it in all its terror. This is death. This is my choice. This hideous monster.

But also to look at Jesus and realize: He is making this choice too. NOT the way I did, by choosing the cheap pleasures of sin over the unending love of God. No. He chooses death despite never having rejected God's love. He chooses death so that when I go into it I will never have to go alone. He chooses death so that mercy can be poured out on all who have embraced the hideous monster and clutched it to their bosom.

And so the second thief, seeing with the eye of faith, cries out: Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom! Above our Lord's head there stands the proclamation: "King of the Jews" as Pilate insisted it read. On His bloody head there is a crown - but of thorns. And beneath the mockery intended, the penitent thief beholds the absolute truth of it all: this Jesus IS a King and He does have a Kingdom.

From our Lord's cross come the sweetest words: "Today you will be with me in paradise."

Paradise. The home we lost on that first fateful day when our parents, Adam and Eve, clutched death to their bosom instead of God. Paradise Jesus now flings wide open to the thief and to all who who will accept His gracious Kingdom.

You will be one of these two when your moment arrives. You will be in the company of those who rail at the unfairness of it all and protest their innocence and cry out against God with their last breath. Or you will be in the company of those who look upon the Man on the Cross, confess His innocence, and marvelling that is He shares our suffering, beg His mercy: "Jesus, remember me."

Baptism gives you the gift of moving from one thief to the other. It gives you the gift of dying to all words of recrimination against God. It gives you the gift of dying to all thoughts of God's unfairness. Instead, it imparts to you the conviction that One who was innocent has given His life as your ransom. Baptism joins you to the One who did not HAVE to die, but chose to die, in order to bring to you the gift of Paradise restored. Baptism gives you the peace that on your dying day, whenever it falls, your Jesus will speak to you the tender words: "Today you will be with me in Paradise."