“Two other men, both criminals, were also led out with him to be executed.” – Luke 23:32
Two thieves shambled along the dirt road leading to Golgotha. Upon his back, each bore a large wooden cross inscribed with the crime for which he would die. They were not alone on this final journey; a man whose cross read IESVS·NAZARENVS·REX·IVDÆORVM, “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews” walked with them. He took the place of a murderer.
During crucifixion, both robbers scorned the third; if they were King, they would not be hanging on a cross on a hill called the Skull. But something in the man’s presence silenced one. No matter the insult, this man named Jesus never fought back. When He looked upon His accusers, He looked with pity, not resentment. The robber turned to face the crowd. That’s when he saw them; amidst those who mocked, those who mourned. Rich and poor, relation and friend – his mother and brothers mingled with a harlot, a tax collector, a man healed of leprosy. The lives Jesus touched.
Like that odd band of followers, this man who did nothing but take looked upon the man who did nothing but give with new eyes. He saw love reflected from the eyes that saw hate; he heard words of compassion in response to those of reproach; he felt acceptance, even as he pushed away. He saw his Savior. And while he knew he was not worthy of grace he cried out, “Jesus, remember me …“ – and most amazing of all, Jesus did. Those were the words He waited for – the words He died for – and if we speak them even today, His answer remains the same: I tell you the truth… you will be with me in paradise. It doesn’t matter our history, our sins, our hypocrisy. We have only to call out to Jesus with heartfelt sincerity; His triumph over the grave will guarantee our pardon.
*Special thanks to freefoto.com for use of the photo
“Now that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem. They were talking with each other about everything that had happened…” – Luke 24:13-14
There they are – two of Christ’s followers – trudging the old dirt road leading to Emmaus. Kicking pebbles here and there, they keep their arms folded, their eyes downcast. They talk in despairing voices. How could they have killed Jesus? Did they not hear his teachings? Did they not see the miracles? Why did God let it happen? His own son! With the Savior dead and buried, what hope does Israel have now? And Judas! Don’t even get me started on Judas!
They’re so into their discussion they don’t even see the stranger now walking beside them. “What are you talking about?” He asks. Can’t you just see the twinkle in His eye? They stop walking; but they just can’t bring themselves to look up. The question doesn’t even merit a response. Don’t you know? The stranger shrugs, shakes his head, inquires further, and the floodgates open. They tell it all. Every wretched detail – His name was Jesus, they begin. They tell of his signs and wonders – and how, despite all His great words and deeds, their own rulers handed Him over to be sentenced to death. Only three days earlier, they explain, He was crucified on an old wooden cross. He died and was buried, along with their hope for salvation. Then, to top it all off, the women went to His tomb, found it empty, and now claim He has risen from the dead.
All this and Jesus was right before their eyes. How could they have missed Him? How could we? We know He rose from the dead – we’ve read the scriptures, heard the sermons, and sang the songs. Yet when it comes down to the nitty-gritty of life, we often live as though He were dead. We focus on our despair, we try to fix things ourselves, we try to carry the burden alone. All this when the one who walked before us – the one who understands the burden of this world more than anyone –who laughed and cried, who felt the joy of friendship and the pang of betrayal, who felt misunderstood, alone, and abandoned – He is not dead. He is risen; and He walks right beside us. Tell me, He says. All we have to do is look up.
“‘Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, He has risen!’” –Luke 24:5-6
Imagine for a moment, you are among those bringing spices and perfumes to the tomb of Jesus. It seems only yesterday you were traveling from Galilee with your Lord. Now he is dead. In the past days you have witnessed the one you loved — the on you laughed with, mourned with, learned from — betrayed. You saw the one who fed the hungry and clothed the naked, stripped of all dignity, and given bitter liquid to drink. You saw he who blessed and healed, insulted and tortured. And then you saw him die. Tears streamed with the pouring rain, and your heart felt as though it had shattered in a million pieces. It can’t end this way. But as they took his limp body from the cross, you realized it was over. It is finished. Just as he said. You spent hours weeping, until there simply were no more tears. Now you walk the long earthen path toward a borrowed tomb. You try to talk with the others, but words are few. So you walk in silence. But then you hear those precious words. It didn’t end as it appeared. When Jesus declared it finished, he didn’t mean his life, but your chains. Never has there been such joy! Our Lord and Savior overcame death to seal OUR victory — a truth no less profound now as then. Therefore today, of all days, let us not allow the sorrows of this world to drag us down. After all, we have far more than a few Easter eggs and chocolate bunnies to bring us joy, we have an empty tomb! Jesus — our Savior, Redeemer, Messiah, Advocate, Cornerstone, Healer, our Friend — he is not dead. He has risen. And he did it all for the love of you …
