There were no television cops and coroner’s shows back then. No real-time rockets red glare and bombs bursting in air; or violent movies and video games to watch—not even "gawkers’ block" as drivers slow to view a serious automobile accident.

This is not to suggest that first-century Palestine was not violent. It was in many ways. But this was the time of Pax Romana and the Romans wanted to keep it that way. Any unusual person who stirred up the crowds could be deemed an insurrectionist. So the people of Jerusalem fed their fascination with death (other people’s, that is) by attending public executions.

On this particular occasion outside the Holy City they watched with enthusiasm or indifference the crucifixion of three Jews. Two were said to be thieves. A sign above the head of the scourged and beaten man in the middle proclaimed him the King of the Jews. Some thought it was funny. Others thought it was true.

Crucifixions on Golgotha were very common. This being Passover time the crowd contained men, women, and children from many lands. Some of them may not have heard of Jesus. But those hanging from crosses to his left and right had. They knew he claimed to be the Messiah. One of them railed at him, "What kind of a Messiah are you, anyway? You saved others from death, save yourself. And while you’re at it, save us too!"

The other thief, who had been taunting Jesus earlier, had lately been strangely silent. Something about Jesus moved him. Christ’s prayer of forgiveness for his executioners, perhaps? Painfully he raised himself up so he could inhale enough air to rebuke his cohort. "Do you not even fear God? You are getting the same as him. We deserve this, but he doesn’t. He has done nothing to deserve this.…Jesus, remember me when you come in your kingly power!"

"And he said to him, ’Truly I say to you today, you will be with Me in Paradise’" (Luke 23:39–43).

The "penitent thief" is often used as a justification for deathbed conversions. However, his last-minute confession of faith reveals a pattern that all true repentance must follow.

The first step is to take responsibility for that for which you need forgiveness. Modern society has been called a "culture of victims." Certainly, there are true victims: of war, disease, accidents, violence, crime, and abuse. But I would suggest that this general description refers to vast numbers of people who are victims of themselves—those who refuse to take responsibility for the mess their lives are in.

Repentance must be more than feeling sorry for oneself. The Devil really didn’t make you do it, you know. He may have tempted you, but it was your choice to act on the temptation. Like the prodigal son, the penitent thief "came to himself" when he stopped blaming other people (the Romans, his band of thieves) and other factors (his poverty, his lack of political clout) for his moral failures. Acknowledging that our sins are our own fault may be a tough pill to swallow, but it is always good medicine.

Oddly, it is when we realize that our own choices brought us to the pig pen or the place of execution, that we suddenly have hope. We have options. We can turn around. Other choices can take us to better places. The prodigal son turned his face toward home; the penitent thief toward Paradise.

The next step to true repentance is to recognize the authentic character of God. Before the Holy Spirit can start us down the road toward heaven and home we must have faith that God is not like the father we could never please, the lover who betrayed us, the boss who humiliated us, the teacher who delighted in giving us demerits. God is sinless. God is love.

In the Old Testament and New, throughout all of human history, God has been the same. As Blaise Pascal observed, "God is none other than the Savior of our wretchedness. So we can know God well by knowing our iniquities.…Those who have known God without knowing their wretchedness have not glorified Him but have glorified themselves." Our very neediness teaches us that our only hope is in God’s loving eagerness to heal us and abundantly pardon us.

The title of this week’s lesson is "Repentance and Forgiveness." It would be a tragedy if from that we inferred that our repentance is a good deed rewarded by forgiveness—a proper coin in some celestial vending machine dispensing pardons. It is only the grace of God through "the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world" that can take away our sins. In his book, What on Earth Are We Doing? John Fisher reminds us,

There are only two kinds of people in the world: sinners who know they’re forgiven, and those who don’t yet know. Jesus already forgave everybody. He finished that on the cross. We can identify with the world because we are nothing more than sinners who have accepted his sacrifice in our place. The world needs to hear this from us. Most people don’t have a clue that this is what Christianity is all about.

We need to give the world a more realistic presentation of ourselves—we’ve been scaring them away for too long with self-imposed images of our saintliness.…We should never be far away from full awareness of what we would be without Christ.1

Hear the word of the Lord:

Do you think I take any pleasure in the death of wicked men and women? Isn’t it my pleasure that they turn around, no longer living wrong but living right—really living?…So turn around! Turn your backs on your rebellious living so sin won’t drag you down.…Get a new heart! Get a new spirit! Why would you choose to die, Israel? (Ezek. 18:23, 30, 31 The Message)

Notes and References

1. John Fischer, What on Earth Are We Doing? Finding Our Place as Christians in the World (Eugene, Oregon: Wipf and Stock, 2002).

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