It’s written from the perspective of the then-irrelevant now-famous “thief on the cross”, having died and now in heaven. His story is in Luke’s Gospel (23:32-49), and the book is an amplification of it, drawing on the other Gospels too, with a dash of poetic licence. This is not a full review, just a couple of reflections.
Scandalous grace
The concept of the book is a powerful way of expressing what Jesus’ death on the cross achieved - full and free forgiveness for whoever trusts in him, whenever they trust in him, whatever they’ve done, whatever they will do. What clearer example could we ask for to illustrate that than this man: a hardened terrorist, in the very process of dying, daring to turn to Jesus in simple trust, and receiving from him the certain promise of paradise. Clearly there was nothing in this undeserving rebel to warrant his pardon, and there was no time left for him to “pay it back” either (not that he ever could). Jesus’ blood-won salvation is all of grace.
That’s how that thief got to heaven. And that’s how this sinner writing got to heaven too.
I use the past tense for myself intentionally. The Bible says that salvation through Jesus is so sure and complete - because it is all of his grace - that in a very real sense, I am seated with Jesus in heaven already. I have been given new life by Jesus, which begins now with the assurance of his love and pardon, and which will go on forever in paradise: “the Great Story… which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before” (C.S. Lewis).
I often encounter Christians here in the Gambia - and it’s common all over the world - who react to this scandalous grace saying, “But surely God has standards, and now you reckon you can live however you want?”
By no means! That objection has understood the scandal of grace, but it vastly underestimates the power of Jesus’ love. Jesus rescued me from eternal punishment, for eternal paradise. That is the most astonishing love anyone could ever receive and it has such power that it is unstoppably transformative. The believer’s heart has been replaced and made new, and it is gradually being warmed up to love Jesus more and more because of who he is and what he’s done. I used not to care, but now I hate it when I do or think or say things that displease him (which is always also what’s not best for me or others). Jesus’ love is so powerful that it saves and changes people. Bit by bit, it is changing me.
As the thief “said” (imagined in the book) -
“His cry of anguish tore me apart. If He was given up for my sins, what sin would I not give up for Him? That took hold of me… I found myself longing to be filled with the love that I had seen in Jesus’ eyes, and to live a life that would please Him. I only had a few hours left for that. I hope you have much longer.” (p.74)
The thief got to heaven because of Jesus’ scandalous grace. So did I.
Deathly darkness
One part that really struck me from this little book was the retelling of the darkness that suddenly occurred from 12pm to 3pm on that first Good Friday (Luke 23:44-45). It’s a significant detail that I’ve read and shared with others very many times. But the horror of it hit me anew.
Right in the middle of the day - 3 hours of darkness!! Here in the Gambia it's painfully obvious that 12-3 is the hottest period of the day, as the sun blazes down most fiercely. I never expect to get a lot done in those 3 hours. Can you imagine, at 12 noon, when the sun should be at its brightest and most intense, suddenly you’re plunged into darkness for three… long… mysterious… hours…
I remember watching the solar eclipse back in 1999 in my parents’ garden, with those apparently protective glasses. It was a bright sunny day, and rather eerie when it went noticeably darker and cooler for a few minutes, and the birds stopped singing. But that doesn’t compare to 3 hours of total darkness! It’s unmistakably supernatural. And it must have been absolutely terrifying.
The rest of the Bible indicates that it was a dramatic sign from God of his anger at sin. What’s most stunning though is where his anger is directed. It’s not at the soldiers mocking and brutally crucifying his Son. It’s not at the authorities, with all their injustice and cowardice. It’s not even at the human race more widely, whose sin made this dreadful event necessary. It’s at Jesus: “He himself bore our sins in his body on the cross” (1 Peter 2:24). Because he was bearing our sins, he endured the righteous anger of God in our place.
The rest of the Bible indicates that it was a dramatic sign from God of his anger at sin. What’s most stunning though is where his anger is directed. It’s not at the soldiers mocking and brutally crucifying his Son. It’s not at the authorities, with all their injustice and cowardice. It’s not even at the human race more widely, whose sin made this dreadful event necessary. It’s at Jesus: “He himself bore our sins in his body on the cross” (1 Peter 2:24). Because he was bearing our sins, he endured the righteous anger of God in our place.
Can you imagine being there in the darkness? It must have been extremely confusing and disorientating. Yet imagine the relief at 3pm when the darkness lifted. It’s over. It sure is. The light of Jesus came into our dark world, and went to the very darkest place on that cross - facing the wrath of God. And in his scandalous and extravagant grace, he thereby paid the price in full for us to enter heaven.
The price is paid - come let us enter in
To all that Jesus died to make our own.
For every sin more than enough he gave.
And bought our freedom from each guilty stain.
The price is paid, Alleluia!
Amazing grace, so strong and sure!
Graham Kendrick, 1983
As we’re reminded at Christmas services, this momentous good news is “good news of great joy for all people” (Luke 2:10), including North Europeans and West Africans. And it applies in the same way to each of us as it did to that thief on the cross.
The thief got to heaven because Jesus endured that deathly darkness in his place. So did I.
“No one gets in automatically. It’s Jesus who gets you here. Heaven is His home. He holds the key. He opens the door, and if you become His, heaven will be yours… My story proves that getting into heaven depends on Jesus, and on Jesus alone.” (p.87)
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