The Gospel Truth About Forgiveness

The smallest player on my son Jacob’s soccer team last season was a girl named Paige.  Paige was very tiny, fairly slow, and easily distracted.  Every time Paige played goalie I had to tell her “Paige, keep your hands out of the net,” because she loved to play with the net during the game.  One time she got her hands so tangled in the net it took me several minutes to get them out.  And every time Paige got near the goal with the ball, we all got excited, because she hadn’t scored a goal all season.  Everyone else had, but not Paige.  She was too small, too slow, and too distracted.  Parents on the sidelines would hold their breath whenever Paige got near the goal.  So you can imagine our delight when, a few weeks ago, Paige gently nudged the ball into the goal.  Her kick was barely hard enough to propel the ball into the goal—but it finally strolled in.  Our head coach Dana was so excited he stopped the game, picked Paige up and threw her into the air.  There’s something in us that likes the underdog.  We want the underdog to win.

 

 

And that is one thing that is so comforting about Luke’s portrait of Jesus.  In the translation called The Message, Eugene Peterson provides this introduction to Luke’s Gospel: “Luke is the most vigorous champion of the outsider.  An outsider himself, the only Gentile in an all-Jewish cast of New Testament writers, he shows how Jesus includes those who typically were treated as outsiders by the religious establishment of the day: women, common laborers (sheep-herders), the racially different (Samaritans), the poor…As Luke tells the story, all of us who have found ourselves on the outside looking in on life with no hope of gaining entrance (and who of us hasn’t felt it?) now find the doors wide open, found and welcomed by God in Jesus.”  Luke focuses on a Jesus who roots for the underdog.

 

Especially in Luke’s Gospel Jesus stands up for those of supposedly inferior gender (women), inferior age (children), inferior occupation (tax collectors), and inferior race (Gentiles).  Jesus roots for the underdog.  And it was scandalous.  The Pharisees were always grumbling about it.  But in our day, it resonates with us.  Today it is popular to stand up for the underdog.

 

But what’s not so chic, what we may not be prepared for, is just how far Jesus is willing to go to welcome some people into relationship with God.  Read these events surrounding the crucifixion of Jesus: 26 As the soldiers led him away, they seized Simon from Cyrene, who was on his way in from the country, and put the cross on him and made him carry it behind Jesus. 27 A large number of people followed him, including women who mourned and wailed for him. 28 Jesus turned and said to them, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; weep for yourselves and for your children. 29 For the time will come when you will say, ‘Blessed are the childless women, the wombs that never bore and the breasts that never nursed!’ 30 Then ” ‘they will say to the mountains, “Fall on us!” and to the hills, “Cover us!” ‘   31 For if people do these things when the tree is green, what will happen when it is dry?”  (Lk. 23:26-31 TNIV)

 

Even now Jesus stands up for the underdog.  Women are following him on his painful journey to the crucifixion.  In Luke’s gospel, women are underdogs.  But now, even in his last hours, Jesus focuses on them.  They weep for him.  He mourns for them.  He knows that a time is coming when Jerusalem will be taken captive by Rome.  How hard it will be for those women in those days of war![i]  So Jesus mourns for them.  It is a touching scene.

 

But what happens next is not so touching: 32 Two other men, both criminals, were also led out with him to be executed. 33 When they came to the place called the Skull, they crucified him there, along with the criminals—one on his right, the other on his left. 34 Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” And they divided up his clothes by casting lots.  35 The people stood watching, and the rulers even sneered at him. They said, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is God’s Messiah, the Chosen One.”  36 The soldiers also came up and mocked him. They offered him wine vinegar 37 and said, “If you are the king of the Jews, save yourself.”  38 There was a written notice above him, which read: THIS IS THE KING OF THE JEWS.  39 One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: “Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!”  40 But the other criminal rebuked him. “Don’t you fear God,” he said, “since you are under the same sentence? 41 We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.”  42 Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom. ”  43 Jesus answered him, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23:32-43 TNIV)

 

The thing about underdogs is that they usually seem deserving.  The tax collector in Luke 5 named Levi whom the Pharisees hated but whom Jesus loved; the widow in Luke 7 whom society ignored but whom Jesus served—they all have something redeeming about them.  They somehow seem deserving of Jesus’ compassion.  But these people here in Lk. 23, they are of a different stripe.  Here, Jesus moves from rooting for the deserving underdog to absolving the despicable unworthy.

 

 

Consider the soldiers and religious leaders who, since Lk. 22:47, have done the following: arrested Jesus, mocked him, beat him, blindfolded him, found him guilty of trumped up charges, ridiculed him, dressed him mockingly, and nailed him to a wooden cross. 

 

And once they nail him, they keep on mocking him.  Their mocking is so sinister that it sounds very much like when Satan mocked Jesus in Lk. 4.  Satan said, If you are the Son of God, tell this stone to become bread. [ii]  These mockers echo the devil’s words:   “He saved others; let him save himself if he is God’s Messiah, the Chosen One.”  “If you are the king of the Jews, save yourself.”  And the soldiers offer Jesus “wine vinegar,” a wine soldiers are known to have drunk.[iii]  They ridicule him, treating him as a king at a banquet and serving him wine.[iv] 

 

And yet with this same group in mind, Jesus says, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”  I don’t know about you, but I’m not very comfortable with this.  It seems to me they know exactly what they are doing.  And Jesus wants to forgive them?  I’m all for Jesus standing up for the deserving underdog.  But I’m not comfortable with a Jesus who forgives people like this.

 

But what’s worse is what comes next.  There are two criminals crucified with Jesus.  We don’t know exactly what these criminals have done.  They may be Zealots, people who were passionately opposed to the Romans who occupied Jerusalem.[v]  We hear about those kinds of criminals every day.  We call them insurgents or terrorists.  Those in Iraq who are opposed to the U. S. occupation and who strap bombs to their bodies and walk into crowded markets—that’s who these guys are hanging on crosses next to Jesus.

And the one criminal insults Jesus with his last breath.  Perhaps in his Zealot mind Jesus, supposedly a Messiah, should have ended the Roman occupation.  Instead, the Romans have ended his life.  What kind of Messiah is that?  So the one criminal spits hatred at Jesus.

But the other criminal responds differently.  First he rebukes his fellow insurgent.  He seems to feel that the other criminal is too bold, too presumptuous.  He’s hanging on a cross, for heaven’s sake!  Show some humility!  But the second criminal shows just as much boldness and presumption.  In his defense, he does admit Jesus’ innocence and his guilt.  But then he says something outlandish: Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom. 

If there was ever a deathbed-“hail Mary”-pass, this is it.  Does the man really believe Jesus is a king who’s going to come back from the dead to start a new kingdom?  We don’t know.  The man’s probably never met Jesus.  Maybe he’s just hedging his bets.  The sign over Jesus’ head says, “This is the King of the Jews.”  So, what can the criminal lose?  He shoots for the moon: remember me when you come into your kingdom.  This isn’t the repent request of a new believer.  This is the desperate plea of a dying terrorist trying to find a loophole before he dies. 

He asks that when Jesus comes back, and who knows when that will be—days, weeks, years?—that Jesus show mercy on him.  And what’s even more audacious is that the criminal addresses Jesus as “Jesus.”  He doesn’t call him “Sir,” or “Lord.”  He calls him “Jesus.”  An insurgent on the electric chair calls God by his first name and asks that at some point in the future, when a divine kingdom is finally established, that he be granted a pardon.

 

And stunningly, Jesus gives him what he asks for, and more: Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise. This is 1 of only 3 places where we find “paradise” mentioned in the New Testament.  Paul writes in 2 Cor. 12:4 of a man, probably Paul, who had a vision of paradise.  Jesus, in Rev. 2:7 talks about the tree of life which is in the paradise of God.  In the Greek translation of the Old Testament, this Greek word was used in Genesis to describe the Garden of Eden.  In time, the word came to refer to a heavenly Garden of Eden.  It came to refer to the place where godly people rested after the death—in other words, heaven.[vi]  And Jesus offers this terrorist Paradise.  The man is being executed for his crimes, crimes he has not had time to repent of or be rehabilitated from, and Jesus extends to him an invitation to heaven.

 

And it’s an immediate invitation: …today you will be with me in paradise.  The dying terrorist begged for consideration when, some time in the future, Jesus would return in kingly glory.  Instead, Jesus gives him paradise today.  Not in ten years.  But today. 

Are you comfortable with that?  I’m not sure I am. 

Imagine you and I go to a prison where there are inmates on death row.  There is an inmate who kidnapped a ten year old and ended her life; an inmate who carried out a plan to murder her husband’s lover; a white inmate who mowed down three African American teens with his car; and a terrorist who released deadly gas into a New York subway.  All of these inmates are about to be executed.  Outside are the family of the kidnapped ten year old; the husband of the woman who killed the lover; the family members and friends of the three teens mowed down by the racist; and hundreds of New Yorkers whose loved ones died in the deadly gas.  They are all here to see justice done.  And as the final minutes tick away, in walks a preacher.  He’s come to visit the condemned criminals.  Most of them just curse at him.  Some laugh at him.  But one criminal—you pick which one—does something shocking.  One criminal—you pick which one—yells out “Hey preacher!  How about a ticket out of this rat hole?  How about a one way ticket to heaven?  What do you say?  Can you pull some strings for me preacher-man?”  And the preacher, who is God, turns to the criminal—you pick which one.  He turns to the man who kidnapped the ten year old; or the wife who killed her husband’s lover; or the racist who ran down three teens; or the terrorist who released the gas.  And he says to that criminal, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.” 

 

 

And it seems to me that these hard words of Jesus are for us words of comfort and words of calling.  First, they are words of comfort.  As comfort, they remind us that we can’t expect anything less from Jesus when it comes to our sin.  If Jesus is willing to extend forgiveness and paradise to this sort of person, can we expect any less when it comes to our sin?  I tell you the truth, there are a lot of us who simply won’t believe that even we, even after what we’ve done, even after our behavior, that we can be forgiven.  I’ll tell you the truth, there are a lot of us who’ve been judge and jury and have sentenced ourselves to a lifetime of regret.  But Jesus has this comforting word for you: Truly, I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.

 

Second, they are words of calling.  As calling, they remind us that Jesus can’t expect anything less from us when it comes to the sins of others.  In his dying moments, Jesus models for us the level of compassion he wants us to show others.  I’ll tell you the truth, there are a lot of us who have refused to forgive that unfaithful spouse, that father who abandoned you, that brother or sister who always seemed to get Mom’s attention, or that friend who betrayed you.  And for good reason!  They don’t deserve your forgiveness.  But that’s no longer the point.  The same Jesus who said in Lk. 6:27 Love your enemies is the one who demonstrates here what that looks like.   It’s time for those of us who have been recipients of Jesus’ irresponsible love to be as irresponsible with it as he was.  These are words of calling.