One hill. Three crosses. Three men, caught in the Roman justice system, hanging on them.
And the Roman empire knew how to conduct a crucifixion: a lingering
death, designed not only to maximize suffering, but to completely
humiliate at the same time. Once on the cross, nails through the wrists
and feet would have pierced major nerves causing immediate, severe,
radiating pain through the arms and legs. More than likely, the weight
of the body on the arms would have caused dislocation of the shoulders
or elbows. And that's merely the beginning.
From the start, any movement would cause pain. Fresh wounds from the
scourging would rub against the rough wood of the cross causing torment
with each slight shift of the body. Through most of the ordeal, the
victim's weight would be on his feet with the chest leaning forward
placing maximum strain on the arms and dislocated shoulders. As the
arms began to fatigue, the cramps would begin. Muscles would begin to
knot causing relentlessly deep, throbbing pain.
But it gets worse. Whether by design or accident, the pain of
crucifixion was maximized with every breath. As mentioned, the victim
would lean forward with his weight centered on his feet. From this
position, he would be able to inhale, but he was not able to exhale.
Even to get one little breath, the victim would have to struggle to
raise himself on nail pierced feet just to expel the air in his lungs.
He would then slump forward again until the body demanded oxygen. Every
breath would be an exercise in excruciating pain reverberating through
the whole body.
One hill. Three crosses. And three men hanging on them.
The men on the end crosses were convicted thief's. The one hanging on
the middle cross was slightly more controversial. Jewish leaders
considered him a blasphemer, a threat to their religion. Roman leaders
considered him an inconvenience. The man himself claimed to be not only
the long awaited Messiah, but the very Son of God.
Just a little side note. The same choices are before us two thousand
years later, for any who will consider him. He either was a blasphemer,
a man who will threaten the religious. Or he's merely an
inconvenience, something to explain away whenever we hear his name. Or
he was the Messiah, the Son of God.
The man on the middle cross, this Jesus, pushed himself up and exhaled.
He slumped forward, drew a breath and spoke. He spoke to his Father on
behalf of the Jewish and Roman leaders who had sentenced him to hang on
that cross. He spoke on behalf of the centurion's who had pounded in
the spikes, and were now gambling for his clothes. "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do."
Through a fog of pain, one of the thief's listened in amazement. Why isn't this man screaming his innocence?
Why isn't he demanding justice or vengeance?
Why, of all things, does he ask that God forgive those who have done these horrendous things to him?
The thief, more than anyone on that hill, knew the agony the man on the middle cross is enduring. And yet he sees the peace.
He sees the acceptance.
He sees the determination.
The thief considers the options that have faced every person since that
horrendous Friday afternoon....that day when man destroyed the most
beautiful and perfect thing to ever walk this earth. He considers the
options, and turns to Jesus with one humble request. "Please remember
me."
He doesn't ask to be delivered from pain.
He doesn't plead to live.
He's not after wealth or prosperity or glory.
He asks for one thing....only to be remembered.
One simple request. And one marvelous response. The Messiah turns to
the man and, I believe, with compassion in his eyes speaks the words, "This day you will be with me in Paradise."
A beautiful promise of forgiveness.
A promise of hope and peace.
A man who, by his own admission, was thoroughly guilty. A man with no
redeeming quality in him, dares to utter one humble request. But he
utters it to the one with every redeeming quality. With his final
breaths he trusted the man on the middle cross, and that made all the
difference.
That is the gospel in its most gruesome and beautiful form. A
horrendous death paving the way for a life of hope and purpose for those
who consider the options and, like the thief on the cross, trust the
crucified redeemer.
And, as we pause to remember the brutal death of the Messiah, we remember the fact that, "It's only Friday...Sunday's coming."
