“And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom. And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, Today shalt thou be with me in paradise” (Luke 23:42-43).
The Thief on The Cross
The story of the thief on the cross is very well known — more perhaps for the use made by other denominations concerning heaven going than for the true message of the account. But the true message of “Today shalt thou be with me in paradise” is not my primary concern: it is our use of what the account does not tell us, rather than what it does. To quote a typical Christadelphian commentary:
“We indeed justly!” That thief spoke for all mankind when he uttered those words, but especially for those who repent. Impaled though he was on the cross, he had in his heart repented, and was at the foot of the cross of Christ, confessing that he was a sinner, and that only the Lord Jesus could save him. On the other hand, his fellow stayed symbolically where he was because he would not repent. Sin crucifies us all in the end — rich or poor, handsome or plain, eminent or lowly — “for every man goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets”. And there is no way out except to do what the thief did, that is, to “die” with Christ, knowing that if we be dead with him, we shall also live with him. Preeminently, in dying with Christ, the thief did, in fact, what others have simply to do in symbol in the waters of baptism. He died with Jesus in good conscience; and in faith, if so be he also might attain to the resurrection of the dead. Hence his petition: “Savior (Jesus), remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom.”1
And again
“The contrast between the two malefactors can hardly be missed, and is indeed picked out markedly by Luke’s choice of word “other” — a different kind of man. The one ends his days foaming out bitter curses and sarcastic sneers at Jesus’ claim to be the Messiah. The other not only rebukes him but also acknowledges his own fate as well-deserved. His estimate of Jesus is remarkable: “This man hath done nothing amiss.” Inevitably the question leaps to the mind: How did he know that Jesus had done nothing amiss? Even if taken in a vague, general way as signifying: This Jesus has committed no bloody crimes as we have, his words are sufficiently startling as betraying a knowledge of the kind of man Jesus was and the work he had been doing. But if the words are taken at their face value then it would seem that this thief had known Jesus before, and known him so intimately as to be able to say with emphasis: “This man hath done nothing amiss; his character is without any blemish; none has ever convicted him of sin.”2
So we have apparently two malefactors, both of whom started their time on the cross by upbraiding Jesus, following the account in Matthew. One then rebuked the other, according to Luke’s account, and recognized the true person of the Lord Jesus, who had done no wrong. And so this second thief was rewarded with “Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.” We read no more of either thief: both clearly died the same day as Jesus. Jesus was raised on the third day, and the second thief was assured of a place in the future kingdom — in the paradise the earth will become.
So the presumption is that the first thief did not repent, and therefore was condemned out of his own mouth. But are we certain? The time frame of the crucifixion was for many hours of pain and suffering, and undoubtedly there was more said than is recorded for us.
There is a saying, attributed to St. Augustine, that illustrates this: Do not despair one of the thieves was saved.
Do not presume one of the thieves was damned.
The first phrase of the couplet indeed is an expression of the Christian hope: that despite the situation, faith in the Lord Jesus can result in salvation. How much the second thief knew of Jesus beforehand we are not told, but certainly, with his mind not wholly focused on his own imminent demise, he could recognize both the innocence of Jesus, and the power residing in that Son of God. His petition “remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom” is a prayer we could all echo, but few can begin to appreciate the example of this thief. He is one of many, outside the group of disciples and apostles, who expressed a degree of faith not found in the expected followers of Jesus. We can think of the Roman centurion’s answer to Christ’s offer to heal his servant, and which called forth the Master’s exclamation, “I have not found so great faith, no not in Israel!” Of the Samaritan leper, who amongst the ten who were healed, alone returned to Christ to offer thanksgiving. Indeed, of the centurion who upon the death of Jesus declared “Certainly this was a righteous man.”
The example, then, of the second thief is of great comfort to those troubled by their own inability to live up to the high standards set up by our Lord Jesus, who feel impelled to echo the words of the tax collector “God be merciful to me a sin- ner.” There is no doubt the thief deserved to suffer his judicial death, as we can perhaps see from Mark “And there was one named Barabbas, which lay bound with them that had made insurrection with him, who had committed murder in the insurrection” (Mark 15:7). However, there is no doubt of his ultimate reward. So, in our darkest moments, the beacon of the destiny of the thief serves as a vital remembrance of the grace and mercy of God and of His son, Jesus.
The Other Thief on the Cross
But what about the other thief, the one who railed at Jesus and was then rebuked by his fellow victim? Do we feel he is an example of those who were told “except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.” By silence, we presume he did not repent — and was therefore condemned, as we will be unless we repent. And thus we presume that those who do not apparently repent are doomed to eternal destruction. We punctuate the phrase in our own mind as “Do not presume; one of the thieves was damned.” Thus we take it this to mean, as many have, that if we presume that our faith has indeed saved us, we could despite our efforts fall into the category of those on the left hand, condemned to the everlasting fire.
Or alternatively we could punctuate it differently, and take it as a warning not to presume about the destiny of any individual. After all, both thieves, according to the record, initially mocked Jesus.
“Likewise also the chief priests mocking him, with the scribes and elders, said, ‘he saved others; himself he cannot save. If he be the King of Israel, let him now come down from the cross, and we will believe him. He trusted in God; let Him deliver him now, if He will have him: for he said, I am the Son of God.’ The thieves also, which were crucified with him, cast the same in his teeth” (Matt 27:41-44).
We know from the record in Luke that the one repented: but if we did not have this record, we would surely have presumed both thieves were subject to destruction. Arguing from silence is surely very dangerous. However we choose to interpret the saying, we must acknowledge there were not two crosses on Golgotha, but three. Jesus, by his presence there, as by his presence now, silences our every natural tendency to separate the world into sinners and saints. Without the evidence of Luke, we would have naturally said only one of the three on that Judean hill was destined to be saved. So can we be sure that only two were to be saved? There is a natural human wish to be able to categorize: winners, losers, those who triumph, those who fail. But these are not necessarily the categories that will ultimately be decided at the judgment seat.
“Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven. Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderful works? And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity” (Matt 7:21-23).
We cannot tell who will be redeemed by external clues. Only God knows the heart of man — only Jesus, the judge, is able to make to distinction between the saved and the damned. And we have to wait for the judgment for the truth to be revealed. Undoubtedly there were three present on the hill: but to presume we know the fate of all three is to presume upon the prerogative of God.
But as we should not presume, we should not despair. As we cannot tell who will be saved, we cannot tell who will be condemned. In the darkest periods of our lives, we can take refuge in the example of at least one of the thieves in the cross, who certainly will be remembered at the coming of Jesus.