In the midst of the horror and madness of Jesus’ crucifixion, one lone voice of sanity arises from a completely unexpected source: a convicted death-row criminal.

This fact raises a few questions: Who is this man? What did he see that others failed to see? And how did he come to see it?

Who is This Man?

In all four gospel accounts, this man is teamed up with another man. Together, they are partners in crime. Matthew and Mark label them “robbers.” Luke prefers the term, “criminals.” John simply speaks of “two others.”

The two men were quite possibly Barabbas’ companions in crime (who would have died with them had not Jesus become his substitute). Whether this is the case or not, crucifixion was reserved for the worst of the worst. Only the most loathsome criminals who had committed heinous crimes were put to death in such a cruel fashion. These two men were undoubtedly armed robbers, men of violence, prepared to kill as well as steal.

They were also considered by Rome to be enemies of the state. Through crucifixion, Rome made object lessons of insurrectionists. Perhaps the best word to describe these men is not simply “thieves” or “murderers,” but “terrorists.” This helps us understand their relationship to Rome and the hatred they aroused from the crowd.

Make no mistake about it: these are bad men. Both Matthew and Mark record that both criminals reviled and scorned Jesus along with the rest of the crowd (Matthew 27:44; Mark 15:32). This reaction is not surprising. The excruciating pain of crucifixion reduced its victims to the condition of tortured animals. And a trapped and tortured animal bites at anything that comes near it!

But sometime during the gruesome ordeal, one terrorist changed his tune.

A Change of Heart

What changed his mind? What did the criminal see that others failed to see? He may have heard about Jesus before this moment, but it had not made a difference in regard to his response. But now, while observing Jesus from his unique vantage point on the cross, something changed.

He heard the cruel mockery from the crowd, soldiers, and priests. The priests scoffed: “He saved others; let him save himself, if he is the Christ of God, his Chosen One!” “Saved others”? We can imagine the criminal wondering what this might mean? People that ended up on crosses were generally not known for “saving” others, but rather, for murdering others.

He heard the soldiers taunt: “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” “King of the Jews”? He may have wondered, Why would Jesus’ despisers would use messianic language? He may have been able to read the inscription over the cross that made this claim plain for all to see: “This is the King of the Jews.”

He also heard what Christians call “the first word from the cross,” that is, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” This response must have floored him. How can this be? Who responds like this to in the face of such inhumanity?

Both terrorists saw and heard the same thing. Both responded in diametrically different ways. The first was not impressed. With great anger and cynicism he continued to join in with Jesus’ tormenters: “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” He scoffed at the perceived powerlessness of this pretender to the Davidic throne. This dying man mocked another dying man. He fully knew the meaning of “kick ‘em while they’re down.” Though he himself was about to die, he remained as proud as ever, with no compassion for a fellow-sufferer.

Though the second criminal had initially joined the first in his mockery, he evidenced a change of heart. He saw his own actions in a new light. He took responsibility for his own evil deeds (an aspect of repentance) and admitted that his sentence of condemnation was just: “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed justly; for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds…” His experience was deserved, but Jesus’ was not. He realized that Jesus was innocent. “…but this man has done nothing wrong.”

Somehow, in a startling turn of events, the last person anyone would expect to speak truth and sanity – a violent criminal, an evil terrorist – witnessed of the truth concerning Jesus.

The Word of Salvation

Seeing Jesus in a new light, the criminal made one humble request: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” He did not ask for a place of honor. He knew he didn’t deserve such a position. He asked only to be remembered.

His request reveals a risky, desperate, leap of faith. Somehow, he saw a king whom death could not stop – one who would be victorious in spite of, perhaps even through, his rejection. He believed – present circumstances to the contrary – that Jesus reigned and that his kingdom would one day be established.

None of Jesus’ disciples had such a clear and correct view of Christ as this criminal. And they had seen mighty signs and miracles – the dumb speaking, the lame walking, the blind receiving sight, lepers healed, the dead raised. They had seen thousands fed with a few loaves and fishes. They had seen Jesus walking on the water, calming the storm. Some had even seen Jesus’ glorious transfiguration. On top of all these things, they had heard his teaching and known his constant presence for over three years.

The dying criminal saw and heard none of these things. He only saw agony, weakness, suffering, and pain. He only heard mocking, scorning, and deep and bitter hatred. And in the face of this avalanche of sin, inhumanity, and injustice, he had heard Jesus pray, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.”

And no one knew what they were doing – all were caught up in the insanity of the moment – except for one man, the most unlikely witness.

He recognized the king of Israel on a Roman gallows. He saw that the divine throne was not a gold chair but a wooden torture stake. He perceived that the crown was not a jewel-studded circle, but a mass of tangled thorns. He recognized that the divine power was not manifest in overwhelming force and violence, but in unspeakable love and grace shown to the most undeserving.

And he heard Jesus’ word of salvation: “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” The phrase translated, “Truly, I say to you,” is Jesus’ formula of authority guaranteeing the truthfulness of his statement. It is Jesus’ way of saying, “Thus saith the Lord.” He promised the criminal that “today” – not sometime in the future, but this very day – he would be “with me (Jesus)” in Paradise. Paradise recalls the Garden of Eden, a place of joy, pleasure, and delight. “How odd of Jesus to link a grand notion like ‘Paradise’ with the horror that is his cross.”[1] Strangely enough, Jesus spoke of Paradise in the midst of the living hell of Golgotha – the hill of the Skull. Some theologians have suggested that here, the tree of the cross is presented as the new Tree of Life, bringing salvation in the midst of the utter darkness.

There is perhaps no stronger word of assurance in the entire Bible. What a promise! Before the sun set on that day, the terrorist, arm in arm with Jesus, would enter Paradise. He would share Jesus’ triumph over sin, death, and devils. He merely asked to be remembered, but he would be given Paradise. He would “be with me,” that is, “be with Jesus.” He would experience not only forgiveness, but friendship with God in Christ.

We can imagine that after this exchange, the criminal must have been mocked and scorned by the crowd even more than before. To add to the humiliation and shame of the cross, he had now expressed his belief in a crucified Messiah, a powerless king. Eventually, the Roman soldiers would break his legs, resulting in slow, painful asphyxiation. He died… and entered Paradise! A trophy of grace – the first-fruits of many others who would eventually come to see God’s glory in the shame of cross.

The first word from the cross – the word of forgiveness – leads to the second word, a word of salvation and grace. With nothing in his past to commend him, and nothing in the present or future to offer – nailed hand and foot to the cross, literally unable to do anything – the criminal is saved solely and utterly by grace.

What Made This Encounter Possible?

What produced this turn of events? What made this encounter possible? There is no doubt that the criminal would have died in utter hopelessness if it were not for Jesus’ complete identification with sinners, demonstrated by his presence on the cross. We find the Messiah, the King of Israel, God with us, not in a palace or on a throne, but at Golgotha on a Roman cross. Here Jesus identified with the least and the lowest, the most despised and despairing, the forgotten and the unloved. We must never forget that “[f]or Jews and Gentiles alike in those days, a crucified person was as low and despised as it was possible to be. … not fit to live, not even human.”[2]

In fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy, Jesus “was numbered among the transgressors.” He was crucified between two criminals as if he were nothing but a criminal himself—perhaps even their ringleader! The most Holy One died with those who were most unholy.

For this reason, we must be careful when we assume that the Christian faith is “respectable” or about “preserving a positive image” or about maintaining family-friendly sanitized values, especially when we consider with whom God identifies at the cross. What religion would dare make this its chief symbol of redemption – God nailed between two violent criminals? Anglican pastor, Fleming Rutledge writes,

armed robbers, men of violence, prepared to kill as well as steal. This indeed is an “element” wildly unsuited to be in proximity to the divine. Good Friday summons us to think deeply about the profoundly strange, incongruous – indeed, unacceptable — nature of a crucified God nailed up between two bandits for the scorn of the passersby. Would you in a million years ever have dreamed of having such an objectionable fact at the heart of your faith?[3]

But the very fact that God identifies with the lowest and the least is the reason we can take comfort in God during our darkest moments. God is with us – all of us – no matter what. Willimon writes,

What situation in our lives could be worse than hanging on a cross? Our God is not the sort of God who sits on high, aloof from the struggle and pain of this life. Our God gets mixed up in the mess of this life here on earth, even to the point of going with us criminals to the cross … With this God, it gets very, very dark, and then we open our eyes and see that God is there, beside us. With this God, things go from bad to worse, from worse to awful, and then there, next to us, is God hanging in there with us, on a cross.[4]

As Neuhaus puts it: “He began at the bottom [of the heap of humanity] to show that none can fall so far that they are beyond the reach of God’s love.”[5]

The second word gives us a glimpse into Jesus’ understanding of the cross. His word of salvation comes immediately after he is mocked three times in regard to saving himself. Jesus chose to save others by not saving himself. Indeed, to save himself would have removed any possibility of salvation for others. It is for this reason that the author of Hebrews can write, “For the joy set before him, Jesus endured the cross, disregarding its shame” (Hebrews 12:2)

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© Richard J. Vincent, 2008