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What We Have in Common With the Thief on a Cross

April 10, 2017 by Stephanie Leave a Comment

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“I tell you the truth. Today you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23:43)

Words uttered by a dying Jesus to a man who is actually guilty of his crime.

Who does he think he is? This man; the recipient of Jesus’ promise of joining him in His Kingdom. He is , after all, a self professed criminal. A thief; indicating a desperate desire to seek security in things of this earth. This man is one of two criminals who hung alongside Jesus. All three facing the same sentence. We know nothing else of this man’s life except this glimpse into his last moments.

The attitudes, behavior, and goods upon which these men built their lives may have given them security in life but are unable to save them in death. Both men are left to endure their own slow torturous deaths while observing the display of horror aimed at the man, who hung between them. A drama that they not only observed but one in which they actively participated. According to Matthew and Mark’s accounts, both joined the crowd in hurling insults at Jesus. For these men, there would seem to be no peace on earth and no peace in death.

An outburst comes from one of the criminals; a challenge rooted in curiosity and desperation. He wants off the cross; “If you are the Christ…”. It’s an attitude of what’s in this for me? His plea is for Jesus to do whatever it takes to end his earthly suffering. A vision focused on this world and this moment.

Instead of receiving his request, he is rebuked. But not by Jesus. By the other criminal. “Don’t you fear God? We all are receiving the same sentence. “ This man; who had previously participated in the mockery of Jesus now seems to have a change in heart. A profession that Jesus did nothing to deserve his death sentence.

In these last hours of unimaginable pain, of emotional intensity, of deafening noise, he has noticed a presence in Jesus that is not of anything he witnessed on this earth. A presence of hope in something bigger than this moment. A presence of divinity to forgive those orchestrating this earthly horror against him.

Who on Earth could do that?

No one. Except the One who originates outside of this world. The Son of God.
This man waited until the last minute to cry out his trust in Jesus. Why should Jesus welcome him into paradise? Why should he get to follow Jesus to an eternal home of delight when he lived an earthly life following sin?

He believed that Jesus was where security is found. His vision was beyond this world and this moment. In his simple understanding, he claimed it . “Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

Jesus answers, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.”
The original text tells us that his cry to Jesus was not a one time plea but one that had been repeated. The same for the other criminal. He witnessed the same events and yet out of his lips poured repeated expressions of unbelief . Both at an hour of desperation; both at an hour of realization that nothing of this earth will bring hope or peace.

He who dies with the most toys, still dies.

Who does he think he is?
Who do you think you are?

The answer to both is this:  We are all sinful beings in need of a Savior.
I see myself in the face of this man.  How about you?

At whatever place in life we receive that grace extended to us through Christ, whether it be years shortly after birth or minutes before death, Jesus’ promise stands: life eternal in His Kingdom.

In the words of an old spiritual, “You may have the world, give me Jesus.”

(This piece was originally presented as a spoken meditation on one of the Seven Last Words of Christ )
 
 
 
 
 

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Filed Under: Easter Tagged With: criminal, cross, felons, forgiveness, grace, Jesus, Luke 23:43, paradise, Savior, sin, thief

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When my first child was born 20 plus years ago, I envisioned taking just a few years off from my role as Pastor of Youth and Family. While that didn’t exactly unfold as expected, God used my gifts and skills in other ways. Read More…

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s2thomp

Recently, I retraced the steps of my childhood. Ho Recently, I retraced the steps of my childhood. However, walking the territory with my young adult children by my side became a whole new experience. Something profound happens when your kids see, taste, and feel the places that shape your life.

This wasn’t the first time, we ventured into the town of my paternal roots When my children were young, we occassionally drove through the town. We drove past relative’s homes and I pointed out favorite destination spots. However, the questions grew deeper and the curiosity expanded as they grew older. Connections to itheir story have been formed.

We enjoyed stomping around the nostalgic grounds together while recognizing how our family’s story fits into a bigger one. I whirled around with my kids on the same carnival ride seats that I once shared with my parents and siblings. We munched on the same tasty comfort food that I delighted in as a child. And watched, with wonder, the twinkly lights of a magical place, lighting up a dusky hot summer night. We walked in the footsteps of those in their personal narrative.

The deeper thoughts and questions came as we winded through the small town, retracing the paths of my youth. However, this time around, their ears longed to know more. How is this person related? Who was the relative that was known for…..? The visual unfolding of a story gives you a context for understanding what has shaped you. It is both formative and yet allows for questions and discerning what you will do with it. What will you embrace and how will you respond to it’s influences?

These are the moments that I do not want to take for granted. Navigating our story together is a gift.

#familystories #parentingyoungadults
#whoami #ancestorsspeak
#familyroots #stephaniejthompson
#Redbudwriters
"Sometimes Jesus’s interruptions mean a reorient "Sometimes Jesus’s interruptions mean a reorienting with our whole being. Surrendering vocational plans and expectations. Using our finances,time and talents in ways that take us out of our comfort zones. Letting go of previously held assumptions about who Jesus is."

#Redbudwriters #Jesusinterrupts #Luke5 #followingjesus #discipleship
I love my shoes. My eyes initially spotted them i I love my shoes.

My eyes initially spotted them in an advertisement in my social media feed. Truthfully, it wasn’t completely a coinicidence that they showed up in the midst of my scrolling. My buying habits are not secretive to the bots monitoring my digital life. I can’t hide from the reminders of my sketchers sandals shoe fascination. Both the ads and my daughter’s laughing comments make me confront my guilty pleasure.

This pair intrigued me. Both function and style appealed to me. Specifically, the ancient sparkly design made me think of a different time and civilation. That may sound silly. However, I am always on a quest to recognize my identity within the contexts of those who came before me and those who live different narratives from myself. In a sense, the sandals are a visible reminder to keep walking into those paths.

Most recently, they waded into the Caribbean Ocean, paddled my body through Cenotes in Mexico, and walked the sacred ground of encounters with people who don’t live in my native country. My sandals witnessed to my wonder at new smells, the beauty of creation and attempts to engage with human companions in ways that don’t require words.

Before walking into very different places across the globe, I encountered new narratives in familiar territory. Some of them included my own. My sandals comforted my feet as I walked into doctor’s offices, my insides quivering at updates from a yearlong of health battles. They accompanied me to conversations, some silly and others more serious with my young adult children.

And somewhere, in the midst of moving around doing seemingly mundane activities, I connected with people I never met. We exchanged laughs, shared insights, and simply acknowledged presence with an “excuse me” as we passed in aisles.

Someday, my sparkly shoes will wear out. I will be sad because of the sacred places I have tread with them adorning my feet. The stories they hold are way more fascinating than their decoration. So when they wear out, I can cling to the pictures and be reminded of the places I have seen the face of God as I navigate my days. 

#Redbudwriters #sacredplaces #imagodei #humanitymatters #ifshoescouldtalk
I am slowly emerging from under my broom tree. Tr I am slowly emerging from under my broom tree.

Truthfully, they don’t grow in the middle of suburban Illinois so the broom trees in my yard resemble Oak trees. However, metaphorically speaking, they served the same purpose for me: a place to crash in exhaustion from the overwhelming emotions pouring through my veins.

I found myself resonating with Elijah. (1 Kings 18) He felt the sting of brokenness. A fracture grew in his community, a group that shared a common identity. They were God’s people. That doesn’t equate to blind unity. But it meant commitment to working out together what that looked like in earthly life. Because this is where they lived. Not in a “spiritual place.” A physical place where God descended and intended to restore all things to the “very good” he declared.

But rather than place themselves in the messy human experience of listening and humility, they lunged toward pride and power. Community ripped apart. Relationships became defined by a zest for communal powers, control, and oppression-including those in their own community. They detoured from their purpose and identity. And Elijah wanted to escape.

So last week I resonated with his story. Sometimes the noise is too much. We are already thirsty from living in a world that is aching toward complete satiation with the life giving resources God is seeking to offer us. But when we are parched, the trust wanes. And like Elijah, I needed to seek refuge in something other than humanity. So I found refuge in other life giving members of creation. Because they remind me that God is still working and breathing life into a broken world.

Robin Wall Kimmerer, a botanist, professor, and member of the Potowami Nation, writes, “In some Native languages, the term for plants translates to “those who take care of us.”

I am thankful for the comfort of the trees who have always beckoned us to their presence. We just needed to recognize their sacred purpose. God meets us there.

#Redbudwriters #stephaniejthompson #godspeaks #treesspeak #elijah #godmeetsuswhereweare #godrestores
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s2thomp

Recently, I retraced the steps of my childhood. Ho Recently, I retraced the steps of my childhood. However, walking the territory with my young adult children by my side became a whole new experience. Something profound happens when your kids see, taste, and feel the places that shape your life.

This wasn’t the first time, we ventured into the town of my paternal roots When my children were young, we occassionally drove through the town. We drove past relative’s homes and I pointed out favorite destination spots. However, the questions grew deeper and the curiosity expanded as they grew older. Connections to itheir story have been formed.

We enjoyed stomping around the nostalgic grounds together while recognizing how our family’s story fits into a bigger one. I whirled around with my kids on the same carnival ride seats that I once shared with my parents and siblings. We munched on the same tasty comfort food that I delighted in as a child. And watched, with wonder, the twinkly lights of a magical place, lighting up a dusky hot summer night. We walked in the footsteps of those in their personal narrative.

The deeper thoughts and questions came as we winded through the small town, retracing the paths of my youth. However, this time around, their ears longed to know more. How is this person related? Who was the relative that was known for…..? The visual unfolding of a story gives you a context for understanding what has shaped you. It is both formative and yet allows for questions and discerning what you will do with it. What will you embrace and how will you respond to it’s influences?

These are the moments that I do not want to take for granted. Navigating our story together is a gift.

#familystories #parentingyoungadults
#whoami #ancestorsspeak
#familyroots #stephaniejthompson
#Redbudwriters
"Sometimes Jesus’s interruptions mean a reorient "Sometimes Jesus’s interruptions mean a reorienting with our whole being. Surrendering vocational plans and expectations. Using our finances,time and talents in ways that take us out of our comfort zones. Letting go of previously held assumptions about who Jesus is."

#Redbudwriters #Jesusinterrupts #Luke5 #followingjesus #discipleship
I love my shoes. My eyes initially spotted them i I love my shoes.

My eyes initially spotted them in an advertisement in my social media feed. Truthfully, it wasn’t completely a coinicidence that they showed up in the midst of my scrolling. My buying habits are not secretive to the bots monitoring my digital life. I can’t hide from the reminders of my sketchers sandals shoe fascination. Both the ads and my daughter’s laughing comments make me confront my guilty pleasure.

This pair intrigued me. Both function and style appealed to me. Specifically, the ancient sparkly design made me think of a different time and civilation. That may sound silly. However, I am always on a quest to recognize my identity within the contexts of those who came before me and those who live different narratives from myself. In a sense, the sandals are a visible reminder to keep walking into those paths.

Most recently, they waded into the Caribbean Ocean, paddled my body through Cenotes in Mexico, and walked the sacred ground of encounters with people who don’t live in my native country. My sandals witnessed to my wonder at new smells, the beauty of creation and attempts to engage with human companions in ways that don’t require words.

Before walking into very different places across the globe, I encountered new narratives in familiar territory. Some of them included my own. My sandals comforted my feet as I walked into doctor’s offices, my insides quivering at updates from a yearlong of health battles. They accompanied me to conversations, some silly and others more serious with my young adult children.

And somewhere, in the midst of moving around doing seemingly mundane activities, I connected with people I never met. We exchanged laughs, shared insights, and simply acknowledged presence with an “excuse me” as we passed in aisles.

Someday, my sparkly shoes will wear out. I will be sad because of the sacred places I have tread with them adorning my feet. The stories they hold are way more fascinating than their decoration. So when they wear out, I can cling to the pictures and be reminded of the places I have seen the face of God as I navigate my days. 

#Redbudwriters #sacredplaces #imagodei #humanitymatters #ifshoescouldtalk
I am slowly emerging from under my broom tree. Tr I am slowly emerging from under my broom tree.

Truthfully, they don’t grow in the middle of suburban Illinois so the broom trees in my yard resemble Oak trees. However, metaphorically speaking, they served the same purpose for me: a place to crash in exhaustion from the overwhelming emotions pouring through my veins.

I found myself resonating with Elijah. (1 Kings 18) He felt the sting of brokenness. A fracture grew in his community, a group that shared a common identity. They were God’s people. That doesn’t equate to blind unity. But it meant commitment to working out together what that looked like in earthly life. Because this is where they lived. Not in a “spiritual place.” A physical place where God descended and intended to restore all things to the “very good” he declared.

But rather than place themselves in the messy human experience of listening and humility, they lunged toward pride and power. Community ripped apart. Relationships became defined by a zest for communal powers, control, and oppression-including those in their own community. They detoured from their purpose and identity. And Elijah wanted to escape.

So last week I resonated with his story. Sometimes the noise is too much. We are already thirsty from living in a world that is aching toward complete satiation with the life giving resources God is seeking to offer us. But when we are parched, the trust wanes. And like Elijah, I needed to seek refuge in something other than humanity. So I found refuge in other life giving members of creation. Because they remind me that God is still working and breathing life into a broken world.

Robin Wall Kimmerer, a botanist, professor, and member of the Potowami Nation, writes, “In some Native languages, the term for plants translates to “those who take care of us.”

I am thankful for the comfort of the trees who have always beckoned us to their presence. We just needed to recognize their sacred purpose. God meets us there.

#Redbudwriters #stephaniejthompson #godspeaks #treesspeak #elijah #godmeetsuswhereweare #godrestores
Load More... Follow on Instagram

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  • Advent/Christmas
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  • five minute friday
  • Mental Health
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