The Two Thieves
A reflection for Good Friday
Photo by Chad Nathan on Unsplash
As we move through Holy Week, our attention often shifts quickly toward Easter morning and the celebration of the Resurrection. But before we reach the empty tomb, we must pause at the cross.
Good Friday invites us to reflect on the crucifixion of Christ—on the suffering, the forgiveness, and the grace that meet us there.
There is a great radio story from This American Life that talks about this little four-year-old girl who asked her father to explain who Jesus is. And so, her father tried to explain to her who Jesus is and what he did. And she was just really interested in Jesus, and she wanted to know more about him. So, they went out and bought a children’s’ Bible, and they would read it together at night. She loved Jesus, and she wanted to know everything about him.
So, they read a lot about his birth and his teaching. And she would ask constantly, “what was that thing Jesus always says?” And her father would explain to her that it was, “Do onto others as you would have them do unto you.” And they would talk about those old words and what that all meant.
And then one day they were driving past a big church and out front was an enormous crucifix which showed Jesus stretched out on the cross. The little girl looked at her father and said, “Who’s that?”
And her father realized that he had never really told that part of the story. He realized that he forgot to tell her about the crucifixion and resurrection. He started to explain by saying, “Well, you know, he made a lot of people mad. He made people in the Roman government mad. He made people in the church mad. His message was so difficult and challenging and radical that they decided that they had to kill him. They came to the conclusion that he would have to die, because his message was too troublesome.”
A few months later, it was mid-January, and the girl’s preschool celebrates the same holidays as the local schools. And she had Martin Luther King Jr. Day off from school. The father took off work that day, and they decided to play and to go out to lunch.
They were sitting in a restaurant, and right on the table where they happened to sit down, was the art section of the local newspaper. And there, big as life, was a huge drawing by a ten-year-old kid from the local schools of Martin Luther King. The little girl said, “Who’s that?” Her father said, “Well, as it happens that's Martin Luther King, Jr, and he's why you're not in school today. We are celebrating his birthday today.”
The little girl said, “So who was he?” Her father answered, “He was a preacher.” And she perked up and said, “Like Jesus?” And he said, “Yeah, actually he was. But there was another thing that he was really famous for. Which is that he had a message.” And he’s trying to explain all of this to his four-year-old daughter. So, he is trying to choose his words carefully.
He said, “Well, yeah, he was a preacher, and he had a message.” She said, “What was his message?” The father said, “Well, he said that you should treat everybody the same no matter what they look like.” She thought about that for a minute. And she said, “Well that's what Jesus said.” And the father answered, “Yeah, I guess it is. You know, I never thought of it that way, but yeah. And it is sort of like ‘Do onto others as you would have them do unto you.’” And she thought for a minute and looked up and said, “Did they kill him, too?”[1]
Jesus preached a message that was too radical; that was too extreme; that was too difficult. So, we crucified him. Today is the day when we remember the moment of Jesus’ crucifixion. We remember Good Friday, the day that Jesus died on the cross. This is such a solemn service. And yet, we call it “good?” I’ve never quite understood that. People say it’s called good because it’s the day that represents the ultimate triumph of good over evil. I don’t know… I’ve heard all the explanations and theories and reasons why it's called “Good Friday.” But they all seem lacking to me.
But really, this moment comes as no surprise. Jesus had predicted his death time and time again – at least three different times in Matthew, Mark, and Luke. He spoke of it even more in John.
Even though Jesus tells the disciples, explicitly about his imminent death, the disciples still don’t seem to understand what Jesus is talking about. They don’t understand that Jesus is on his way to the cross. They don’t understand that Jesus is trying to prepare them for what lies ahead. Everything that Jesus is doing and saying is leading up to this moment, but the disciples simply don’t understand.
In fact, the disciples are in such denial that, right after predicting his death, James and John go up to Jesus and ask him a question. They boldly go up to Jesus and say, “Arrange it so that we will be awarded the highest places of honor in your glory—one of us at your right, the other at your left” Mark 10:37 (MSG). Talk about an inappropriate time to ask for a raise.
Jesus replies, “You have no idea what you’re asking. Are you capable of drinking the cup I drink, of being baptized in the baptism I’m about to be plunged into?” Mark 10:38 (MSG).
In their arrogance, James and John say, “Sure. Why not?” James and John are so caught up in political power and their plans for greatness that they have lost sight of their initial call.
They don’t spend a lot of time prayerfully contemplating this question. “Am I really able to drink the cup that Jesus drinks? Am I really able to be baptized in the baptism Jesus is about to be plunged into? Am I really willing to follow Jesus wherever he leads me?”
It is easy for them to answer “yes” to this question right now. But when the going gets tough… And the time comes for Jesus to be crucified; they are nowhere to be found. In fact, none of the disciples are anywhere to be found. It’s ironic that… Instead of James and John being crucified on Jesus’ left and right, Jesus is joined by two unnamed bandits, one on his left and the other on his right. He is joined by two criminals.
Luke 23:33-43 (CEB): 33 When they arrived at the place called The Skull, they crucified him, along with the criminals, one on his right and the other on his left. 34 Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing.” They drew lots as a way of dividing up his clothing.
35 The people were standing around watching, but the leaders sneered at him, saying, “He saved others. Let him save himself if he really is the Christ sent from God, the chosen one.” 36 The soldiers also mocked him. They came up to him, offering him sour wine 37 and saying, “If you really are the king of the Jews, save yourself.” 38 Above his head was a notice of the formal charge against him. It read “This is the king of the Jews.”
39 One of the criminals hanging next to Jesus insulted him: “Aren’t you the Christ? Save yourself and us!” 40 Responding, the other criminal spoke harshly to him, “Don’t you fear God, seeing that you’ve also been sentenced to die? 41 We are rightly condemned, for we are receiving the appropriate sentence for what we did. But this man has done nothing wrong.” 42 Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” 43 Jesus replied, “I assure you that today you will be with me in paradise.”
…………………………………………………
Several years ago, I volunteered to work with the Kairos Prison Ministry. This is an organization whose mission is to share the transforming love and forgiveness of Jesus Christ to impact the lives of people who have been convicted of a crime. So, our team spent four days in the Bledsoe County Correctional Complex. In the evenings we would go back to our lodging, and then each day we would go back into the prison and minister to this group of men.
I served as one of the ministers that was there to talk (and more importantly listen) to this group of men. And I have to say, it was one of the most eye opening, and difficult, and rewarding experiences that I have ever had in my life.
Over those four days I was able to get to know these guys and connect with them. I got to hear about their backgrounds, their families, their experiences in life and their experiences in prison. And the more I got to know them, the more they just seemed like regular people. In fact, some of the guys there were around my age. And it gave me a new perspective that I had never had before.
But one of the things that I really appreciated about this ministry is that no one on our team knew what crimes these men had committed. We didn’t know why they were locked up. We didn’t know what they had done. And it didn’t matter…. Because our primary goal was to share the love of Christ with them. And for some of these men, that was the first time anyone had ever loved them like that in their entire lives.
When I read about the two men who were crucified beside Jesus, I cannot help but think about the men I met at the Bledsoe County Correctional Complex. It’s a stark reminder that these criminals mentioned in the Gospels were real people. They had families. They had friends. They had stories about what happened that led to their crucifixions. They were real people. And the Gospels force us to recognize these two criminals in the story of Jesus. They draw our attention to these two characters in the crucifixion story.
Each of the four Gospels mention the two men next to Jesus, and they each give us different details about them. John’s Gospel gives us the least amount of information – only saying that Jesus was crucified with two others, one on either side (John 19:18). Mark’s Gospel adds the important detail that these “two others” are bandits… Or better translated as evildoers (Mark 15:27). The Gospel of Matthew adds an additional detail saying that the two criminals mock and ridicule Jesus (Matthew 27:38-44).
Interestingly enough, Church Tradition actually gives the two criminals names: Gestas and Dismas. Tradition holds that Gestas was on the cross to the left of Jesus and Dismas was on the cross to the right of Jesus.[2] In the Greek, Gestas comes from a word that means “to complain or to moan.” And Dismas comes from a word that means “sunset.” Each of these Gospels, and church tradition, adds these little details about these two mysterious men. But it’s Luke’s Gospel that includes the conversation that Jesus has with these criminals.
And yet, even with all this information, there is still a lot that we don’t know about Gestas and Dismas. We don’t know their crime. We don’t know their age. We don’t know where they are from. We don’t know what led them to be crucified on their crosses. But we do know how they choose to respond to Jesus. We are told about their reactions as witnesses at the cross of Christ.
Whatever they did, it’s clear that they did not think it was as bad as what Jesus had done, because these two men watch as Jesus is mocked and ridiculed. They watch as people in the crowd hurl insults at Jesus. They see how the soldiers mock him. They witness the religious leaders condemning him. And Matthew’s Gospel tells us that – not only did they watch – but both criminals join in and start to mock Jesus as well.
And yet, during this horrible event, they witness Jesus do something incredible. Gestas and Dismas hear Jesus’ first words from the cross: “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing” Luke 23:34 (CEB). As Jesus is hanging on the cross, dying – he speaks these words of forgiveness.
Jesus offers forgiveness to the crowd. He offers forgiveness to the soldiers. He offers forgiveness to the religious leaders. He offers forgiveness to the criminals themselves. Jesus forgives the very people who are mocking him and ridiculing him. And he forgives the very people who are responsible for killing him. And in this story, we too become witnesses of Jesus’ amazing act of forgiveness.
And this act of forgiveness reminds us of our need for forgiveness. We may not be criminals like the two men in this story. We may not be like the crowd, the soldiers, the religious leaders who are putting Jesus to death on the cross. But we are all in the need of forgiveness because we all struggle with sin. We all make mistakes. We all fall short. We all miss the mark. We are not innocent.
And here Jesus comes offering forgiveness to all the witnesses at the cross – and offering forgiveness to you and me as well. God’s gift of grace and forgiveness is offered to us, even though we don’t deserve it, even though we have done nothing to earn it. And sometimes we have a hard time accepting that forgiveness.
During my time serving with the Prison Ministry, I had the pleasure of getting to know one of the individuals. He was a young man who had served as an army veteran, and he was having an especially difficult and emotional time. He was full of regret. He had taken ownership of his mistakes and wrongdoings, but he couldn’t receive God’s forgiveness in his life. He just couldn’t come to a place where he could forgive himself for the things that he had done. So, I spoke and prayed with him, and encouraged him to deal with the pain that he was feeling.
As we continued in conversation, this young man began to break out into tears. Then he looked at me and said, “What can I do to fix this?” I wish I had the answer for him. I wish I could have quoted the perfect Scripture, or said the perfect prayer, and made everything better again.
But I couldn’t fix things for him. He still had to face the consequences of his actions, and he couldn’t simply fix things. But that day I believe that he was able to take an important step toward receiving God’s grace in his life, toward accepting God’s forgiveness, even though he wasn’t ready to forgive himself.
Forgiveness is hard. Sometimes it’s hard to forgive ourselves, and sometimes it’s hard for us to forgive others. It’s hard to forgive other people who have harmed you, insulted you, bullied you, and mistreated you. We often want some sort of revenge or karma – what goes around comes around. You’ll get your just desserts in the end. We want people to pay for the way they have brought harm to us. But Jesus models a different way… a way of forgiveness.
Throughout his ministry, Jesus emphasizes the importance of forgiveness. In his Sermon of the Mount, Jesus says: “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy” Matthew 5:7 (NRSV). In the Lord’s Prayer Jesus taught his disciples how to pray saying: “Forgive us for the ways we have wronged you, just as we also forgive those who have wronged us” Matthew 6:12 (CEB).
When Simon Peter asked Jesus if he should forgive seven times, Jesus replied: “Not just seven times, but rather as many as seventy-seven times” Matthew 18:22 (CEB). And now, here on the cross, Jesus forgives his executioners saying: “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing” Luke 23:34 (CEB).
The two criminals see Jesus forgiving all the people who are responsible for his being on the cross. They see Jesus forgiving all the people who have mocked him – even including the criminals themselves. They both witness the exact same thing, but these criminals have two very different reactions.
The theologian Barbara Brown Taylor shares some insight into this moment. She says, “One thing I have noticed about dying people is that they become more who they are than they have ever been. The approach of death seems to sap the strength they once had for pretending. Their disguises fall away along with their defenses, until all that is left is this condensed version of themselves, in which the core of the human being is laid bare. Some people become meaner than water moccasins, while others become almost luminous, and it is not always easy to tell ahead of time who will turn out to be whom.”[3]
We see these two extreme reactions between these criminals. Gestas, the one to the left of Jesus, joins in with the soldiers and the crowds. As he is dying on the cross, he chooses to spend some of his last moments on earth lashing out at Jesus. He cries out: “Aren’t you the Christ? Save yourself and us!” Luke 23:39 (CEB). Gestas has been given the nickname “the impenitent thief” or the “bad thief.” He hears Jesus’ statement of forgiveness, and he chooses to deny this gift of grace.
Then there is the other criminal. Dismas, the one to the right of Jesus. He watches Jesus and listens to him. And at some point, he stops yelling insults at Jesus, because something changes inside him. He begins to see Jesus in a different way. He hears Gestas mock Jesus, and Dismas rebukes him saying: “Don’t you fear God, seeing that you’ve also been sentenced to die? We are rightly condemned, for we are receiving the appropriate sentence for what we did. But this man has done nothing wrong” Luke 23: 40, 41 (CEB).
Dismas acknowledges his own guilt. Even though I don’t think anyone deserves to be tortured to death, Dismas does recognize that he is not innocent. And he also recognizes that Jesus is innocent. He recognizes that Jesus has done nothing wrong. And then, in this moment of repentance – and in this moment of faith – Dismas speaks directly to Jesus saying: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom” Luke 23:42 (CEB).
This is such an incredible response, because Dismas addresses him as: “Jesus.” He is the only person in the Gospel to call Jesus simply by his name – not accompanied by Lord, Rabbi, Teacher, or Son of God. He simply calls him: Jesus. This is one of the most intimate and vulnerable conversations we see in the Gospels. Here we have a dying name, nailed to a cross, struggling to breathe, crying out to another dying man: “Jesus, remember me.”
The call to remember is a call to save… Dismas is calling on Jesus to deliver him – to remember him – to not forget him. This is a call for God to remember us. It’s a reminder for God to not forget us and not leave us in our own mess. It’s a call for God to deliver us. Dismas has opened his eyes to see Jesus as king who will soon go into his kingdom.
In her book, Amy-Jill Levine writes: “The dying evildoer admits his guilt, rebukes his neighbor, defends Jesus, and calls Jesus by name. He does even more. Jesus had been speaking of the ‘kingdom of God,’ and (the sign) on the cross reads ‘King of the Jews.’ The dying man understands what this kingdom is… He knows that Jesus can heal bodies, and he sees Jesus’s own body, scourged, bloodied, nailed, outstretched. He knows that Jesus has raised the dead, and now he sees Jesus dying. One man sees Jesus and derides him; the other sees and, astonishingly, sees past the torture and the death to new life.”[4]
Jesus listens to Dismas. And then he replies with the good news: “I assure you that today you will be with me in paradise” Luke 23:43 (CEB). Notice that Jesus doesn’t ask him to make a list of all of his sins. He doesn’t get approval from a parole board. He doesn’t question him on his theology or ask him what his understanding of the Trinity is. He doesn’t do any of that.
Instead, Jesus hears Dismas’ heart, offers forgiveness, and welcomes him into eternal life. Dismas says: “Remember me.” And then Jesus replies: “You will be with me.” Jesus doesn’t just remember him, he embraces him and welcomes him to be in communion with him. In dying and in rising, the penitent victim is invited to be right there with Jesus… in body and in spirit.
As Barbara Brown Taylor says, “(Jesus died on one cross), but God knows we are all hanging on the other two. Whenever we stand near his, we complete the tableau. One cross makes a crucifix. Three crosses make a church.”[5]
We too, are invited to be right here with Jesus. We too, are invited to receive the forgiveness of Christ that is offered to all of us – even when we don’t deserve. We too, are invited to be with Jesus in paradise. Let us go forth, as we journey to the empty tomb, drawing closer to Jesus… joining him in body and in spirit. Thanks be to God, for inviting us to be a part of what God is doing right here and right now in God’s Kingdom. Amen.
NOTES
[1]. Ira Glass, prod. “Kid Logic.” Transcript. In This American Life. Public Radio International. June 22, 2001.
[2]. The Apocryphal Gospel of Nicodemus.
[3]. Barbara Brown Taylor, Home by Another Way (Plymouth, UK: Rowland & Littlefield, 1999), 93.
[4]. Amy-Jill Levine, Witness at the Cross: A Beginner's Guide to Holy Friday (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 2021), 47.
[5]. Barbara Brown Taylor, Home by Another Way (Plymouth, UK: Rowland & Littlefield, 1999), 93.
