Luke 23:33-43 Commentary

On this the last Sunday of the year, we remember Christ as the one who reigns, or, Christ the King. In the upside-down kingdom of the gospel of Luke, it seems so fitting for us to be here at the cross of death, even as the hope of Advent is about to begin.

At every turn in this week’s passage, people are approaching the “King” Jesus with sarcasm and mockery. We might even get a sense of their giddiness because of the power they perceive themselves to have over this man, Jesus Christ, who is called “King of the Jews.” The crowds and the soldiers and even one of the criminals on the cross get in on the mocking.

An innocent man is being wrongfully put to death and the people are glad about it. It’s a sign that things are terribly wrong in this world, among this people. These are a hurting people who do not yet understand how they are acting out of their own heart and how much damage it is causing in God’s world. So instead, they try to ignore or stay naïve about what’s wrong and manufacture pleasure at someone else’s pain. They probably would have excused their bad behaviour as “that’s just the way we talk at such things.” Or, “If you don’t mock and demean a criminal on the cross, how will others learn the lesson?”

And yet, what do we hear Jesus say? “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” Upside-down Kingdom. No retaliation, no clapping back. Forgiveness borne out of love for one’s enemies, flowing from the heartbreak of understanding where his enemies’ actions are coming from and knowing what beauty could be in them, just waiting for the ugliness to be healed and to give way.

Jesus speaks forgiveness, and the mocking sounds like it’s straight from the devil and his temptations in the desert, each one a play on “If you are the Messiah, save yourself!” The command to save is even made three times—just like the three temptations. The evil one takes one last stab, hoping to capitalize on the rejection God’s own people are handing out.

And it’s true that underneath this mocking is an accusation. Here’s what I hear in each: “You saved others—show us how by saving yourself!” And, “Kings have people willing to die for them, where are yours?” The final one on the lips of the criminal is the most revealing to me, “You promised to be the Messiah! Why? We so desperately need to be saved from all this!”

Luke tells us that the other criminal hears the mocking in the call for salvation and calls his fellow criminal out on it: “Do you not fear God? We belong here: he does not!” This criminal is the only one who approaches and treats Jesus as the King, honouring the unworthiness of this moment. And, he seeks a version of royal clemency: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

I wonder if this other dying man understood that there was something else happening, something cosmic, in Jesus Christ’s death. What we can know is that faced with his own mortality and grappling with his own guilt, the criminal seeks mercy and speaks with humility. Would that would have been the response of the crowds and soldiers! In a world full of death and where the suffering of anyone should bring us to the edge of our own mortality, would that we cry out, “Lord have mercy! Remember us!”

If we live with the true knowledge of the kind of King Jesus Christ is, perhaps we can avoid the same pitfall of bitterness and fear that have overtaken the crowd and the soldiers. If we live with the true knowledge of the kind of King Jesus Christ is, then perhaps we will know what salvation is and is not—that we won’t tell the King what kind of ruler he must be, but will live the kingdom that the Spirit nurtures in us: of goodness and love, peace and joy, self-control and faith. One bathed in prayer for God to act in us and around us and everywhere in the world—prayer to to remember us and to be near to us and to keep us near and to make his home among us.

Trust the words that Jesus speaks last, “Truly you will be with me.”

Textual Point

Justo González points out that the opening verses of this passage are ambiguous about who the “they” (those persecuting Jesus) is referring to. It isn’t until verse 35 that there starts to be specific groups named and even these are rather nondescript: “the people” and “the rulers” and “the soldiers” don’t really narrow it down much. González interprets this as intentional—a way to keep ourselves in the story, to “hear [our] voice among the scoffers.” (a line from “How Deep the Father’s Love for Us”)

[Note: In addition to our weekly Lectionary-based commentaries we now have a special Year A 2025 section of additional Advent and Christmas resources that we are pleased to provide.   Please check them out!]

Illustration Idea

The Netflix series The Crown has helped so many of us understand the intricacies and rules around approaching a British royal figure—as well as the way the royals were expected to conduct themselves at pretty much all times. One of the things that I love about Jesus Christ as the one who reigns is that he carries all of that authority and power and responsibility in himself, but instead of keeping and projecting a staid separation with his subjects, he makes his home among them. Even here, on the cross, he welcomes a criminal to come home with him.