Our Lord Jesus Christ, Universal King (24.11.13)
“Jesus! Remember Me ….”
(Luke 23:35-43)
In a busy, crowded setting it is easy enough to overlook revealing detail. In Jesus’ day, crucifixions were not uncommon. The Roman Army of Occupation used them as grim, highly visual reminders to keep a rebelliously inclined people, subjugated. One triple crucifixion drew special attention. Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews, occupied the central cross – so proclaimed the headboard at the insistence of Pilate, the Roman Governor.
Amidst the ‘busyness’ of Luke’s account of the trial and crucifixion of Jesus (chapters 22 & 23) it would be excusable to miss the less obvious significance in a request, made to Jesus, by one of the thieves crucified with him.
“Now one of the criminals hanging there reviled Jesus, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us.”
The other, however, rebuking him (his fellow criminal), said in reply, “Have you no fear of God, for you are subject to the same condemnation? And indeed, we have been condemned justly, for the sentence we received corresponds to our crimes, but this man has done nothing criminal.”
Then he said,
“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”
This criminal addressed Jesus by name. Could this be because he had shadowed Jesus for some time? Pickpockets love crowds. Jesus drew crowds. Therefore Jesus drew pickpockets. Could this pickpocket have been a fringe-follower of Jesus long enough to become semi-recognisable, a sort of, ‘Oh him! He’s always around’, type of character? If so, then Jesus would have known the pickpocket, better than perhaps the pickpocket knew himself.
Fringe-dwellers, also known as hangers-on, are a feature of many public figures – individuals as well as groups. They fringe-dwelt then, as their successors do now, for varying lengths of time for multiple reasons, only in some cases criminal. Our pickpocket may have been among a criminal minority whose presence was deliberate and focused.
Perhaps he and his co-crucified thief worked the crowds as a duo, one to distract and one to extract? It appears, from the dialogue on Calvary, that they knew each other.
The other (criminal), however, rebuking him (the first criminal), said in reply, “Have you no fear of God, for you are subject to the same condemnation? And indeed, we have been condemned justly, for the sentence we received corresponds to our crimes, but this man has done nothing criminal.”
What occasioned these pangs of conscience? Was it the harsh reality of the moment or a careful prolonged and gentle evangelising approach, over time, by Jesus? There’s no knowing for sure, but the three-way dialogue seems to indicate the latter. The Gospels tell of Jesus frequently healing and reconciling with instantaneous effect. However, there would still have been the need for the patience, persevering approach. How many ‘preparatory’ conversations did Jesus have with Peter, the fisherman, and Matthew, the tax collector, before he believed the moment had come to invite them to follow him?
Fringe-pickpocketers can collect more than the content of other people’s pockets. Their subconscious can record the oft-repeated teaching which, like water dripping on a stone, eventually imprints the memory. The recipient can remain unaware of this infusion of knowledge until an appropriate moment when, unexpectedly, revealing its presence, it influences a significant choice in an individual’s life.
Did the ‘good’ thief surprise himself when he took sides against his fellow pickpocket? Was there a struggle within himself in which his newly resuscitated conscience won the day? Was this a ‘turning point’, a conversion point, at the eleventh hour?
If so, it won the most loving response from Jesus despite his agonising pain:
“Jesus replied to him, “Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”
Jesus’ response underlines the utter sincerity of the petitioning pickpocket. The petition, “Jesus! Remember me when you come into your kingdom”, was a firm declaration of faith made in extreme and harsh circumstances. It was also a declaration of utter confidence in the crucified, seemingly powerless, Jesus. Visually there was nothing to bolster such faith. Jesus was crucified and was dying, horribly.
It’s one thing to believe in and be part of a thriving, growing, powerful church. It’s quite another to believe that a battered Church, with many self-inflicted wounds as is the Catholic Church today, is the true Body of Christ on earth.
Christ’s wounds were not self-inflicted. We inflicted them on him when we walked a path apart from him. Jesus will carry those wounds, no longer bleeding, until the end of time. What Thomas was invited to touch that he might believe (hand and side) are still visible today in humanity’s grievous wounds.
Christ the King on Calvary heard the confession of a dying man, forgave him and promised him his company for eternity. Christ the King is still hearing the confessions of the dying, still forgiving the truly contrite and promising them communion with him for eternity. This Jesus does not from some distant ‘throne’ but alongside the suffering, condemned, terminally ill and dying. He speaks through deacons, doctors, nurses, priests, relatives – all sinners who have kept fringe-company with Jesus and assimilated over time his offer of loving forgiveness, healing and conversion of life.
What powerful words to keep on our lips, “Jesus, remember me …”
In the second Reading for this Feast of Christ the King, St Paul tells the Colossians … and us:
“You will have in you the strength, based on his own glorious power, never to give in, but to bear anything joyfully, thanking the Father who has made it possible for you to join the saints and with them to inherit the light.”