Our Sermons

Bible Passage: Luke 23:39-43
Pastor: Pastor Berg
Sermon Date:  April 19,2019

Death is the great equalizer. When that moment arrives, it matters little whether you are rich or poor, prince or pauper, whether you live uptown or downtown, in a mansion or a dump, whether your skin is black or white or red or yellow. All are equal before the presence of death. And for many, it’s the one moment in their lives where they can be completely honest. When a husband bends low to whisper to his dying wife that he loves her, something he hasn’t said in the last 20 years. Children come to reconcile with their father, who may not live through the night. Suddenly petty grievances, foolish family feuds seem so insignificant at death’s doorway.

So it was with one of the two thieves crucified alongside of Jesus. Suddenly, in his dying moment, he saw his whole life in perspective, saw it for what it really was; and he didn’t like what he saw. And yet, it was no accident that he was there at just this time, that here he was brought into contact with Jesus, the Son of God. In God’s own perfect wisdom, he was there at just the right time and place that he might have the privilege of being the very last soul to be ministered to by the Son of God himself. Once again, Jesus of Nazareth is Passing By. Granted, it’s different this time. But it’s true for that thief who hangs next to him. In front of his very eyes, the Savior of the world was passing by, passing through the valley of the shadow of death, onto his kingdom not of this world.

He had this one brief moment, one brief window of opportunity to meet and talk with his Savior; one final moment to repent. It was an opportunity he would seize. That day at the cross, beneath a sun that refused to shine, the thief saw the light of his salvation. This one man saw the beauty of his Savior’s face. That day, Jesus stood at the door to his heart and knocked. And by God’s grace and by God’s power, this one-time thief opened the door and let him in. It’s the story of a last minute reprieve, a pardon in the nick of time. As death comes knocking, so also does Jesus.

One of the criminals hanging there was blaspheming him, saying, “Aren’t you the Christ? Save yourself and us!” But the other criminal rebuked him. “Don’t you fear God, since you are under the same condemnation? We are punished justly, for we are receiving what we deserve for what we have done, but this man has done nothing wrong.” The Scriptures are quick to remind us that the last enemy to be destroyed is death. And although death is no friend to this thief either, the finality of it helps this man see his life in a whole new perspective. It’s easy to speculate that for years now people had been telling him that crime doesn’t pay. Perhaps, even earlier in his life he could laugh it off, even crack jokes about it. But that was before. At the cross, there’s no longer any joking, There’s no flippant, carefree attitude as life slowly ebbs away. Oh sure, he knew all along that it wasn’t right to steal. He knew from his conscience what God says about it. But so far there had not been any thunderbolts from heaven striking him dead. Maybe God didn’t care all that much about it. Maybe he could beat the system after all; God’s system too.

If that’s the way he thought, he’s not alone. It’s the way many still think today, that somehow denying God above and hell below, they can escape any day of reckoning for their sins. If they can only convince themselves that God no longer cares, that he’s changed his mind about sin, that in this day and age he operates by different rules, then they can rest easy. As so many impenitent people seem to say, “I’ll take my chances with God,” Undoubtedly, the thief had played these games too. There at the cross, though, as the nails pierced his quivering flesh, he discovered to his grief that crime does pay, only not how he thought. In a painful way he was discovering the truth that “the wages of sin is death.” And it struck terror in his heart.

If it were only a matter of the Roman authorities catching up with him, that would be one thing. After all, he had taken his chances knowing full well that one day he might get caught. But it was more than this. Now he knew there was another payment that would be demanded because of his crimes; punishment before the judgment seat of God himself. If before he had tried to justify himself, if he has excused his thievery by saying that he was only taking from the rich, redistributing the wealth, Robin Hood before Robin Hood so to speak; now he knew that none of that would wash before God. Now there are no more excuses. Now he confesses his sin. Now he turns to the other thief who joined in the taunting crowd and says within earshot of everyone there:  “Don’t you fear God, since you are under the same condemnation? We are punished justly, for we are receiving what we deserve for what we have done, but this man has done nothing wrong.” Suddenly, it no longer matters what others might think or say about him. He’s going to speak his mind whether the scribes or the Pharisees or that other criminal likes it or not. Death does that you know. It gives people the boldness to speak the truth without fear. When your facing the ultimate reality, the little games people play no longer matter.

You can almost read between the lines as he speaks, can’t you? “Don’t you fear God?” I do, at least now. I know that soon, within minutes, I’ll be standing before a righteous God before whom my life is an open book. And quite frankly, I’m scared to death. “We are receiving what we deserve for what we have done.” I see where this all has brought me, and in eternity it’s not going to get any better.”

Here at the cross, this thief felt what our Lutheran Confessions call, “the terrors of the conscience smiting the soul,” this realization of the utter sinfulness of our lives, lives that deserve nothing but God’s eternal wrath and punishment. But there is for him a faint glimmer of hope. The crowd and Pilate have called Jesus a king. They take hold of Jesus’ own words and fling them back at him: “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Christ of God, the Chosen One.” And perhaps, this is where it all came rushing back to him. Perhaps he remembered the lessons he had learned as a child, lessons that spoke of the Christ to come? Perhaps he recalled the words of the prophet: “He poured out his life unto death and was numbered with the transgressors. For he bore the sin of man, and made intercession for the transgressors.” What was it that Jesus had said only a little while before? “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” Perhaps he remembered the words of the psalmist: “All who see me mock me; they hurl insults shaking their heads: He trusts in the LORD; let the LORD rescue him. Let him deliver him, since he delights in him,” the very words the crowd was using to taunt this man.

Psalm 22; perhaps those words came to mind. It was eerie. He saw this entire psalm playing out before his very eyes: “Dogs have surrounded me; a band of evil men has encircled me, they have pierced my hands and my feet…They divide my garments among them and cast lots for my clothing.” Remarkable! Even the Roman soldiers fit into the picture, as if knowingly they were following a very carefully directed script! It was all too much to simply dismiss as coincidence. The amazing thing, though, is that no one else seemed to get it. No one else seemed to catch on. But this thief knew. He knew Jesus was a king. He knew that he was the King who was promised long ago, the King who would come to crush the serpent’s head. This is the Savior of the world. “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Such is the language of faith. “Lord Jesus, remember me,” remember me in mercy when the victory is won and your kingdom comes. Lord Jesus, remember me.

In the book of Revelation, the victorious Christ appears the apostle John and says: “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him and he with me. To him who overcomes, I will give the right to sit with me on my throne, just as I overcame and sat down with my Father on his throne.” From the cross, Jesus stood at the door of this man’s heart and knocked. And through the grace and power and Word of God, the Holy Spirit opened the heart of this one-time thief and Jesus entered in. And now heaven itself opens wide. The banquet of God’s grace is spread before him. And soon he will sit down to eat with Jesus in the mansions of heaven itself.  “Jesus said to him, “Amen I tell you: Today you will be with me in paradise.”

My friends, it’s hard for us to even imagine the joy that filled this penitent thief’s heart. Jesus accepted him, not the other way around. Jesus loved him. Jesus wanted him to be with him in paradise. And that literally changed everything. You and I know the words. We find great comfort in them. Yet we will never experience them in the same way this thief did. “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me…” To none other than this thief alone did God display his utmost mercy. To him alone was given the privilege of walking arm-in-arm with Jesus through the dark valley of death.

My friends, you and I today may not be facing such an immediate summons out of this life, but we know that one day it will come. Haven’t the Scriptures told us time and again that we are but mortal? Search the Scriptures and you’ll find this recurring message: “Dust you are and to dust you shall return.” “For the wages of sin is death.” “And so death came to all men, because all have sinned.” In this respect, we are no different than the thief. The only difference is in that little word, “today.” We’re not sure when death will come for us, when we’re young or old, after a great sickness or in a tragic accident. But we do know that death will come, that one day the Savior will speak that little word to us too: “Today…Today you will be with me in paradise.”

What precious words we have from our Savior! This is the promise of life! These are words to rejoice in, to long for, and to hope for because of what Jesus has done for us on this day. This is what makes this Friday, Good! Today, Jesus of Nazareth is Passing By. Still he comes to us through his Word and Sacrament to prepare us for our final journey home. Still today, he stands at the door and knocks. He comes as your Friend, your Savior, and your Life. He comes with the same gracious, power-filled invitation. My dear friends, in faith, on Good Friday, by God’s power, open the door! Amen