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

Sometimes punishment can change us, soften us. My parents’ discipline sometimes transformed my defiance into remorse. But one man hanging on a cross next to Jesus was hardened. He offers no hint of remorse. He only rages against the sentence he serves.

There is an even darker side to his words. Sometimes, when faced with our own shame, we belittle others. There was no sincerity in the man’s plea, “Save yourself and us.” It dripped with sarcasm. It came with the sneer of insult. A fine Messiah and Savior Jesus was going to make…when he was dead!”

The man hanging on the other cross couldn’t be more different. On the outside, he was a carbon copy of the criminal mocking Jesus. He lived the same cut-throat life. He paid the same excruciating penalty.

His question, however, unveils a different heart. “Don’t you fear God?” The question implies that this second criminal did. And we have no reason to doubt his sincerity. This is no jailhouse conversion meant to impress the parole board. It is too late to escape the death sentence. The governor is not going to be issuing a stay of execution. He confesses his guilt and accepts his fate. “We are getting what our deeds deserve.”

But most striking is the faith he places in the one who hangs on the middle cross. Does Jesus look very helpful, or royal, at this moment? Still, this second criminal prays to him, not to be spared from this terrible execution, but for mercy after his death. He recognizes that the next step for Jesus after the cross isn’t just a grave. It is a throne.

Isn’t that an astounding faith in the face of the visible evidence to the contrary? No one ever looked less powerful, less divine, yet this man is trusting Jesus with his eternity.

How many others could see what he saw on this day? The priests, the scribal scholars, the Pharisees all gathered around to see the Savior die, but they mocked him for it. The religious establishment of their day had no faith.

There were twelve men in Jerusalem who had followed Jesus for three years. They knew him like no one else. Ten were hiding. Only one had the courage to show up at the cross. All of them had their faith shattered.

What about us? When does our faith falter when our lives look far less dark than this dying criminal’s? It takes less than a crucifixion to make us doubt.

Jesus’ reply promises salvation to be believing criminal, and they do so immediately. Maybe Jesus never uses the word “forgive”, but there is nothing but forgiveness in his words. This grace comes immediately. “Today you will be with me…” There will be no wait. Hispast is not going to be held against him. There is no purgatory he has to suffer. Paradise starts today.

Jesus promises, “You will be with me in Paradise.” He doesn’t promise the criminal a cold, hard cell in heaven’s dungeon. He doesn’t offer a third class cabin, a middle seat in economy, a one-star room in a one-star hotel. He will be with the King, in the throne room, standing with the saints and angels, under the emerald rainbow, on the sea of glass, holding a golden crown.

He will be with Jesus, in Paradise, and so will we. Jesus’ words promise it. His death makes it real.