Jesus answered him, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.” Luke 23: 43

How many of us long for that kind of direct reassurance?  I can’t begin to imagine what a comfort that must have been for the criminal who was hanging on a cross on one side of Jesus.  Faced with imminent death, he made a confession that Christ was King.  In his final moments of life, he heard the reassuring voice of Jesus offering words of hope beginning with, “I tell you the truth”…

• Not a wish.
• Not a dream.
• Not a best guess.
• Not a wild prediction.
• Not statistics or betters’ odds.

Jesus responds to the criminal’s confession with truth that “today”…

• Not, sorry you’re too late.
• Not maybe next week.
• Not maybe next year.

The truth is that today “you”…

Not everyone who is sneering and hurling insults will be with me—

but you will.

You will be with me in paradise.

All because of a sinner’s confession that Jesus was the King of the Jews—sinless and crucified.  But this was only one half of the story.  Read the whole account:

 Luke 23: 39 One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: “Aren’t you the Christ? Save yourself and us!” 40 But the other criminal rebuked him. “Don’t you fear God,” he said, “since you are under the same sentence? 41 We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.” 42 Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” 43 Jesus answered him, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.”

Jesus has given us this truth: There is Victory in Confession of His Name.

Therefore whoever confesses Me before men, him I will also confess before My Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 10:32 NKJ).

We often think of the Cross as the place where our victory has been won.  Jesus’ Victory March is progressively revealed through His Seven Last Words, or statements from the Cross.

In Luke 23:34, “Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.’ And they divided up his clothes by casting lots.”

Here are the first of Jesus’ Last Words—and interestingly, they’re about forgiveness. 

It’s also remarkable that of His Last Words, this is the only petition or request made of God the Father by His Son.

• Not “Father, protect me.” 
• Not “Father, take away my pain.” 
• Not “Father, grant me peace.” 
• Not “Father, reassure me of your love.”
• Not “Father, help me understand your will.”
• Not “Father, give me the strength to endure this.” 
• Not wisdom, not healing, not helping, not any number of other beautiful personal requests. 
• Definitely not “Father, make them pay!”



“Father, forgive them.”

Why might forgiveness be a necessary first battle of the ultimate victory?  For Jesus, forgiveness and the restored relationship with the Father formed the very essence of His mission. 

For the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost (Luke 19:10). 

 This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins (Matthew 26:28).

If this was Jesus’ first Last Words, what does that say about the important role forgiveness plays in our lives?  What does it say about our fighting our forgiveness battle before we will ever realize true victory?

For many of us, our harboring unforgiveness toward God and others has become like a lead security blanket which simultaneously comforts us and weighs us down.  We carry the bitterness.  We carry the wounds.  We carry the hatred and the hurt.  We carry betrayals and insults.  We carry them all as baggage throughout our days because we’re afraid to let it all go. 

We know how we’ve been hurt and yet, Jesus’ petition for the Father to forgive us ought to give us the comfort we need to release it to Him.  Where God has forgiven it, shall we continue to cling to it?

Do you want to know the Victory of the Cross?  It all begins with forgiveness.

As we work our way into the last days of Lent, we look toward the finish line—which in one sense is the Cross and in another sense is far beyond it.  If the Cross was a window into eternity, this is the scene we would see: Revelation 5:1-14.  It’s a passage I love so much that if I had only one opportunity to preach in a lifetime, it would be this passage–the beginning of the happy ending.

Revelation chapter 5 depicts a moment of great despair as it seems as though all is lost, but then our hero arrives just in time to save the day.  It’s masterful storytelling on the part of the Apostle John who was given a glimpse into the very throne room of God.  John weeps because it seems as though every hope of things ever being made right have been thoroughly dashed.  At this climax of storytelling tension, the Lion of the tribe of Judah (the King of Kings, Jesus) arrives on the scene and reveals that it’s His sacrifice on the Cross that is the ultimate triumph.

David Wilcox wrote a song called Show the Way which you can view him performing on YouTube.  The lyrics—in part—speak of this kind of dramatic triumph of the love of God in Jesus Christ:

Look, if someone wrote a play just to glorify
What’s stronger than hate, would they not arrange the stage
To look as if the hero came too late he’s almost in defeat
It’s looking like the evil side will win, so on the edge
Of every seat, from the moment that the whole thing begins
It is…

Chorus:
Love who makes the mortar
And it’s Love who stacked these stones
And it’s Love who made the stage here
Although it looks like we’re alone
In this scene set in shadows
Like the night is here to stay
There is evil cast around us
But it’s Love that wrote the play…
For in this darkness Love can show the way

 As you continue walking on the Way of Holiness; as you find your way to the Cross, look to it and then beyond it–beyond the darkness and pain of this present world– and know that Love has shown the Way.

Prepare the Way has been our theme during this season of Lent (Isaiah 40:3-5) as we’ve pondered reasons for a time of desert preparation, discussed ways of being consecrated—set apart—as God’s redeemed people.  The Way of Holiness has been paved for us by Christ Himself whose glory was about to be revealed in the final days of His life. 

So many Christians have the kind of comfort gospel that Niebuhr describes as “A God without wrath brought men without sin into a kingdom without judgment through the ministrations of a Christ without a cross” (The Kingdom of God in America). 

Have we created a savior in our own image—one whose glory looks remarkably like man’s?  Or do we see the one the Bible depicts:  a suffering servant—the Christ?

It is in the footsteps of Jesus Christ our Savior—resolutely to the Cross—in which the glory of the Lord is revealed.  This is the Way of Holiness:  the Victory March of Christ. 

He made up His mind (Luke 9:51):

“As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem…”

He knew what would happen (Matthew 20:17-19): 

“Now as Jesus was going up to Jerusalem, he took the twelve disciples aside and said to them, ‘We are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be betrayed to the chief priests and the teachers of the law. They will condemn him to death and will turn him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified. On the third day he will be raised to life!’”

He entered Jerusalem to praises (Luke 19:38):

 “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!” “Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”

But died rejected.  In the last set of devotionals we will see Jesus—the slain Lamb of God—through His Last Words upon the Cross: His final hour.

Jesus replied, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honor the one who serves me. “Now my heart is troubled, and what shall I say?  ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name!” Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and will glorify it again.” (John 12:23-28)

And His glory was revealed—all mankind will see it:  He is Risen!

I belong to a group called Christian Cancer Survivors.  As individuals who’ve each experienced cancer in our own ways, we gather together to encourage one another and to bring the love of Christ to people—whether patients or caregivers—who could use some strengthening for the journey.

 At our last meeting, one of the people in our group asked, “How do you share Jesus with someone whose spiritual condition you don’t have any way of knowing?” 

The truth is that I will never know anyone’s spiritual condition, so my response was “Love on them.” 

How do you “love on someone?”  Well, you don’t talk about love.  You just do it.  When you don’t know what else to do, love people and listen for them to inch the door open.   Then let words of comfort and peace flow like a gentle breeze into their hearts with a message that refreshes the soul.

Today’s passage, Jude 1:17-25 is that sort of love in action.  In verses 22-23, it says,

Be merciful to those who doubt; snatch others from the fire and save them; to others show mercy, mixed with fear– hating even the clothing stained by corrupted flesh.” 

A good and loving listener will be able to discern in people’s words whether they are merely doubting and need encouragement; or whether they are rushing headlong into disaster in need of intervention; those who need to have someone grace their troubled lives with a touch of forgiveness; or those who need a word of correction—a tough love that understands that sin can spread like a cancer and Christ is the only cure.

Look for ways today that you can “love on someone” by listening to their hopes, dreams, fears, and worries and letting the encouragement of Christ lift others to walk with you on the Way of Holiness.

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And this is love: that we walk in obedience to his commands. As you have heard from the beginning, his command is that you walk in love. 2 John 1:6

 Love inspires a vast array of Christian platitudes and clichés. 

• “Jesus loves me this I know, ‘cause the Bible tells me so.” 
• “God loves you and has a good plan for your life.”   

We talk about love, but I imagine that genuine love is far more difficult for most of us to live out in our daily life than it is to talk about it.  Especially when it comes to loving those we find unlovely.

Love is the focus of some of the world’s most hated Christian clichés.  One atheist’s blog translates these Christian clichés about love in the following manner, complete with responses:

“Jesus loves you.”    

Translation: “Jesus does, but I don’t.”
Acceptable Response: “Amen.”
Unacceptable Response: “If that were true, why doesn’t he tell me himself?”

“Hate the sin, love the sinner.”

Translation: “I’m a flaming fundamentalist.”
Acceptable Response: “Amen.”
Unacceptable Response: “That’s a relief, because I’m a homosexual.”

To love the person whose translation and “unacceptable” response are offensive to us is challenging work indeed.  Who do you find hard to love?

• The incompetent boss or coworker talking behind your back?
• The ex-spouse who lives to make you miserable?
• The fair weather friend—nice as can be to your face—who regularly betrays you?
• The person whose politics are vocally opposed to your own?
• Someone who has wronged you, taken your job, stolen from you, lied to you, etc.?

When John admonishes us to “walk in love,” it’s not just a cliché of love that he’s talking about.  He’s talking about genuine love–the kind Jesus commanded: 

 “But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you” (Luke 6:27-28).

Maybe the world could use a little more of Christians showing that kind of love to turn the world’s unacceptable responses into a chorus of Amens!

There’s a question I think about when I ponder life’s mysteries:  If Jesus hadn’t been baptized as one of us, would His death have been for us?

We can be in such a hurry to get to the empty tomb of Easter that we barely stop long enough at the Cross to know the importance of His death or consider the prior pivotal importance of His baptism.

Fortunately, the question is a hypothetical, but it points to a very real truth: Without the baptism of Jesus, His death would have been gratuitous–a lavish waste of His divine life.

Today’s passage (1 John 5:1-12) speaks of this.  If we want to walk on the Way of Holiness—to experience the victory of the redeemed—we must agree with John (verse 5) “Who is it that overcomes the world? Only he who believes that Jesus is the Son of God.”

Then John elaborates on who this Jesus is:

“This is the one who came by water and blood– Jesus Christ. He did not come by water only, but by water and blood. And it is the Spirit who testifies, because the Spirit is the truth. For there are three that testify: the Spirit, the water and the blood; and the three are in agreement” (verses 6-8).

Had Jesus come to earth incognito, lived and taught and died—with no baptism, no one knowing He was the Son of God—there would be no identification with us in our sinful lives…and no identification with us in His death…and no identification for us in His resurrection. 

But Jesus loved the Father, obeyed His will, and revealed Him to us.  Yes, Jesus identified with us through the power of the Spirit during His incarnation.  He identified with us in a baptism for sins—ones He never committed—and simultaneously unleashed the Spirit’s conviction upon our sinful state and had the Spirit’s affirmation of Jesus’ divine nature.  Therefore, He was revealed as “God with us” in His teachings.  And He identified with us on the Cross by paying for our sins. 

When the Holy Spirit came as Jesus promised, the Spirit testifies, the water of baptism testifies, and the shed blood of Christ testifies that victory is ahead for those who believe this testimony: Jesus is the Son of God.

Not a typo of desserts.  And while our journey started with preparation in the desert, it’s not that type of desert either.  It’s Just Deserts.

I love learning origins of words and phrases.  This one, interestingly, comes from a play entitled Warning Faire Women (1599):  “Upon a pillory – that al the world may see, A just desert for such impiety.”  Al is apparently not a typo either, although maybe he was the author but we’ll never know because it was anonymously published.  A pillory is a wooden structure with holes for the head and arms—something we often refer to as stocks, used for publicly shaming people.  While all this is rather curious, what you may be really curious about is what it has to do with our devotional passage for today–1 Peter 2:19-25.

Everything.   Just deserts means getting what we deserve.

For it is commendable if a man bears up under the pain of unjust suffering because he is conscious of God.  But how is it to your credit if you receive a beating for doing wrong and endure it?  But if you suffer for doing good and you endure it, this is commendable before God.  To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps.  “He committed no sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth.”  When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly.  He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed.  For you were like sheep going astray, but now you have returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls (1 Peter 2:19-25).

Anytime we suffer on account of sin, we’re getting just deserts from a holiness perspective.  If we suffer at the hands of our fellow man on account of sin in the world, humanity is getting just deserts from a holiness perspective.  How can this possibly be commendable?

Well, Jesus took upon Himself what we deserved and when He received our just deserts, God called it grace.  Our suffering is temporary and earthly.  Jesus’ wounds have healed us eternally by His crucifixion—a public shaming far worse than any pillory.  Just—God is.  Deserts—ours became Jesus’.  His righteousness became ours–His amazing grace in taking our just deserts.

My son is currently studying for the required GRE exams for graduate school.  I’ve been quizzing him on vocabulary and among the words he stumbled over at the beginning was lapidary.  I had no problem remembering lapidary relates to the art of cutting precious stones because growing up, our family would visit a lapidary museum  that had—among other exhibits—a big pile of various rocks.  The draw of the big rock pile was the supposed presence of gemstones including diamonds if you hunted long enough and knowledgeably enough to find them.  Whatever rocks you wanted to keep were yours. An expert sat behind a table helping children to identify the rocks: agate, sandstone, aquamarine, quartz, marble, etc.  If my rock was just a piece of polished glass or limestone, I’d throw it back on the pile and keep looking for something better.  As a child, I didn’t have the discernment of the expert.

Yesterday, we saw that we all start somewhere with the process of growing in holiness and taking steps toward Christian maturity.   Today, Peter educates us on the role of discernment in becoming the holy people of God (1 Peter 2:4-10).

As you come to him, the living Stone– rejected by men but chosen by God and precious to him–  you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house   to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through    Jesus Christ.  For in Scripture it says: “See, I lay a stone in Zion, a chosen and precious cornerstone,  and  the one who trusts in him will never be put to shame”       (1 Peter 2:4-6).

The longer we are on the Way of Holiness, the more likely we’ll develop discernment to see what Peter calls the precious cornerstone: Jesus.  Like the situation at the lapidary, plenty of people rejected this Stone, overlooking Jesus as worthless.  They stumbled.  They fell.  They tossed Jesus away like I threw away sandstone, limestone, or something ugly.

But the expert at the table, when something truly precious came his way, he recognized it.  Those who have encountered Jesus as our precious stone—the cornerstone of our faith—we cherish Him.  Without Him, we’re just a pile of worthless rocks.  But He’s valuable.  We can trust Him as an expert builder to build His church with us—living stones.

Discernment to see this Precious Stone comes from knowing God’s Word and listening to the Holy Spirit as we grow toward Christian maturity.  Have you trusted this Precious Stone?