Biblical Essays
THE THREE CROSSES
Luke 23:39-43
Turn aside with us for a few moments and meditate on those three crosses. If we mistake not, we will find a wide field of truth opened before us in the brief but comprehensive record given at the head of this essay.
The Center Cross – Jesus of Nazareth
First, we must gaze at the center cross, or rather at Him who was nailed thereon – that blessed One who had spent His life in labors of love, healing sick, cleansing lepers, opening blind eyes, raising the dead, feeding the hungry, drying the widow’s tears, meeting every form of human need, always ready to drop the tear of true sympathy with every child of sorrow. His meat and drink was to do the will of God – to do good to man; a holy, spotless, perfectly gracious man; the only pure, untainted sheaf of human fruit ever seen in this world; “a man approved of God,” who had perfectly glorified God on this earth and perfectly manifested Him in all His ways.
Such was the One who occupied the center cross; and when we come to inquire what it was that placed Him there, we learn a threefold lesson – three profound truths are unfolded to our hearts.
In the first place, we are taught, as nothing else can teach us, what man’s heart is toward God. Nothing has or ever could display this as the cross has. If we want a perfect standard by which to measure the world, measure the human heart, measure sin, we need look at the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ. If we want to know what the world is, we cannot stop short of the cross, and we cannot go beyond it, because it was there that the world fully uttered itself – there fallen humanity fully let itself out. “Crucify Him! Crucify Him!” was an utterance of the human heart, declaring, as nothing else could, its true condition in the sight of God. When man nailed the Son of God to the cross, he reached the full height of his guilt, and the full depth of moral turpitude. When man preferred a robber and murderer to Christ, he proved that he would rather have robbery and murder than light and love. The cross demonstrates this tremendous fact; and the demonstration is so clear that it leaves no shadow of question.
It is well to seize upon this point. It is certainly not seen with sufficient clearness. We are prone to judge the world according to its treatment of ourselves. We speak of its hollowness, faithlessness, baseness, deceitfulness, and such like; but we are likely to make self the measure in all of it, and hence we fall short of the real mark. In order to reach a just conclusion, we must judge by a perfect standard – found in the cross; the only perfect measure of man, of the world, and of sin. If we truly want to know what the world is, we must remember that it preferred a robber to Christ, and crucified between two thieves the only perfect man that ever lived.
Such is the world in which we live. Such is its character, its moral condition; such is its true state as proved by its own deliberately planned and determinedly perpetrated act. Therefore, we need not marvel at the world's wickedness, seeing that in crucifying the Lord of glory, it gave the strongest proof that could be given of wickedness and guilt. In reply, it may be said the world is changed, that it is not now what it was in the days of Herod and Pontius Pilate – that the world of the 21st century is different from the world of the first century; that it has made much progress.
Civilization has flung its fair mantle over the scene; and, regarding a large portion of the world, Christianity has shed its purifying and enlightening influence on the masses; so that it would be unwarrantable to measure the world that is by the terrible act of the world that was.
But, has the world really changed? Is it truly improved in the deep springs of its moral being – has the core of its heart been altered? We readily admit all that a free Gospel and an open Bible have, by the rich mercy of God, achieved here and there. With grateful hearts and worshipping spirits, we think of thousands and hundreds of thousands of precious souls converted to God. With all our hearts, we bless the Lord for multitudes who have lived and died in the faith of Christ – for multitudes who are giving convincing evidence of their genuine attachment to the name, person, and cause of Jesus Christ.
But, after allowing the broadest margin in which to insert all these glorious results, we return, with firm decision, to our conviction that the world is still the world, and if it had the opportunity, the act that was perpetrated in Jerusalem in the year 33, would in some way be perpetrated in Christendom now.
This may seem severe and sweeping; but is it true? Is the Name of Jesus more agreeable to the world today, than it was when its great religious leaders cried out, “Not this man, but Barabbas!” Perhaps the truth lies in testing the concept by going and breathing that peerless and precious Name amid the brilliant circles that throng the drawing-rooms of the polite, fashionable, wealthy, and noble of this age. Name Him in a saloon, on a plane, or in a public place, and see if the response will not be that such a subject is out of place. Other names, other subjects may be tolerated. Talk that is folly and nonsense in the ear of the world will never be told it is out of place; but talk of Jesus and one will soon be silenced. How often have we seen our leading thoroughfares literally blocked by crowds of people going to a football game, or to a performance, and no policeman tells them to move on. Let a servant of Christ stand to preach in our thoroughfares and he will be summoned before the magistrates. There is room in our public streets for the devil, but there is no room for Jesus Christ. “Not this man, but Barabbas.”
Can we deny these things? Have they not been witnessed again and again? And what do they prove? They prove the fallacy of the notion that the world is improved. They prove that the world of the 21st century is the world of the first. In some places, it has changed its dress, but not its real animus. It has doffed the robes of paganism, and donned the cloak of Christianity; but underneath that cloak may be seen all the hideous features of paganism’s spirit. Compare Romans 1:29-31 with 2 Timothy 3 – there we find the traits and lineaments of nature in darkest heathenism, reproduced in connection with “the form of godliness” – the grossest forms of moral pravity covered with the robe of Christian profession.
It is a fatal mistake to imagine that the world is improving. It is stained with the murder of the Son of God; and in every stage of its history, in every phase of its condition it proves its consent to the deed. The world is under judgment. Its sentence is passed; the awful day of its execution is rapidly approaching. The world is simply a deep, dark, rapid stream rushing onward to the lake of fire. Nothing but the sword of judgment can settle the heavy question pending between the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ and that world which murdered His Son.
Thus it is, if Scripture is to be our guide. Judgment is coming. It is at the door. Hundreds of years ago, the inspired apostle penned the solemn sentence, “God is ready to judge.” If He was ready then, surely He is ready now. In long-suffering mercy, He tarries, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance. What precious words – words of exquisite tenderness and matchless grace; words revealing the large, loving, gracious heart of our God, and His intense desire for man’s salvation.
But judgment is coming. The awful day of vengeance is at hand; and, meanwhile, the voice of Jesus, sounding through the lips of His dear ambassadors, may be heard on every side calling men to flee out of the terrible vortex, and make their escape to the stronghold of God’s salvation.
God’s Heart Toward Man
In the second place, we are led to look at the cross as the expression of God’s heart toward man. If on the cross of our adorable Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, in characters deep, broad, and unmistakable, we see the true state of man’s heart Godward; in the selfsame cross, with no less clearness surely, we may see the state of God’s heart toward man. The cross is the divinely perfect measure of both.
At the cross, we behold the marvelous meeting of enmity and love; sin and grace. The height of man’s enmity against God was displayed at Calvary. On the other hand, God displayed the height of His love. Hatred and love met; but love proved victorious. God and sin met; God triumphed, sin was put away, and now, at the resurrection side of the cross, the eternal Spirit announces the glad tidings, that grace reigns through righteousness, unto eternal life by Jesus Christ our Lord. At the cross, the battle was fought and the victory won; and now the liberal hand of sovereign grace is scattering far and wide the spoils of victory.
If we truly desire to know what the heart of God is toward man, we must gaze on that center cross to which Jesus Christ, by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God, was nailed. True, as we have already seen, man did, with wicked hands, crucify and slay the blessed One. This is the dark side of this question. But there is also a bright side – God is seen in it. No doubt, man fully let himself be known at the cross; but God was above him; above all the powers of earth and hell exhibited there, ranging in their terrible array.
Thus it was in the case of Joseph and his brethren; they exhibited the enmity of their hearts in flinging him into the pit, and selling him to the Ishmaelites. Here was the dark side. But mark these words of Joseph: “Now therefore be not grieved, nor angry with yourselves, that ye sold me hither; for God did send me before you to preserve life.”
Here was the bright side. But to whom were these wondrous words of grace addressed? To broken hearts and penitent spirits, and convicted consciences. To men who had learned to say, “We are verily guilty.” Only such can enter into the line of truth that is now before us. Those who have taken their true place, who have accepted the judgment of God against themselves, who truly accept that the cross is the measure of their guilt – they can appreciate the cross as the expression of God's heart of love toward them; they can enter into the glorious truth that the selfsame cross that demonstrates man’s hatred of God, also sets forth God’s love to man. The two things always go together. It is when we see and accept our guilt, as proved in the cross, that we learn the purifying and peace – the power of that precious blood that cleanses us from all sin.
Yes; only a broken heart and contrite spirit can truly enter into the marvelous love of God as set forth in the cross of Christ. How could Joseph have said, “Be not grieved with yourselves,” if he had not seen his brethren broken in his presence? In the same way, an unbroken heart, an unreached conscience, an impenitent soul cannot enter into the value of the atoning blood of Christ, or taste the sweetness of the love of God. Joseph “spake roughly” to his brethren at the first, but the moment those accents emanated from their broken hearts, “We are verily guilty,” they were in a condition to understand and value the words, “Be not grieved with yourselves.” It is when we are completely broken down in the presence of the cross, seeing it as the perfect measure of our own deep personal guilt, that we are prepared to see it as the glorious display of God’s love towards us.
It is only then that we can escape from a guilty world. Only then can we be rescued from that dark and rapid current of which we have spoken, and brought within the hallowed and peaceful circle of God’s salvation, where we can walk up and down in the sunlight of a Father’s countenance and breathe the pure air of the new creation. “Thanks be to God for His unspeakable gift!”
The Heart of Christ Toward God
And now, before closing this part of the essay, we offer a brief thought on the cross as displaying the heart of Christ toward God. We can do little more than indicate this point, under the ministry of the Holy Spirit through the Holy Word.
In the midst of such a world as this, it is an unspeakable heart-comfort to remember that God has been perfectly glorified by at least One. There has been One on this earth whose meat and drink was to do the will of God, to glorify Him, and finish His work. In life and death, Jesus perfectly glorified God. From the manger to the cross, His heart was devoted to one great object – to accomplish the will of God, whatever that will might be. “Lo, I come [in the volume of the book it is written of Me] to do Thy will, O God.” In the roll of Scripture it was written of the Son that, in due time, He should come into this world, according to God’s eternal counsels, and accomplish the will of the Godhead. To this He dedicated Himself with all the energies of His perfect being. From this He never swerved a hair’s breadth from first to last; and when we gaze on that center cross we behold the perfect consummation of that which had from the beginning filled the heart of Jesus – the accomplishment of the will of God.
All this is unfolded to us in that charming passage in Philippians 2: “Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus; who being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God; but made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men; and being found in fashion as a man, He humbled Himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross” (vv. 5-8).
How wonderful; what profound depths are found in the mystery of the cross; what lines of truth converge in it; what rays of light emanated from it; what heart-unfolding is there – the heart of man to Godward; the heart of God to manward; the heart of Christ to God. All this we have in the cross. We can gaze on that One who hung there between two thieves, a spectacle to Heaven, earth, and hell, and see the perfect measure of everyone and everything in the whole universe of God. We must look at the cross to know the measure of the heart of God; to know His love to us, and His hatred of sin. We must look at the cross to know the measure of the heart of man, his real condition, his hatred of all that is divinely good, his innate love of all that is bad.
We must look at the cross to know what the world is; what sin is; what Satan is. Without a doubt, there is nothing like the cross. It will be our theme throughout the everlasting ages. May it be, more and more, our theme now. May the Holy Spirit so lead our souls into the living depths of the cross, that we may be absorbed with the One who was nailed thereto, and thus weaned from the world that placed Him there. May the real utterance of our hearts always be, “God forbid that I should glory save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.” May God grant it, for Jesus Christ’s sake.
The Other Two Crosses
Having briefly dwelt on that marvelous center cross to which, for our redemption, the Lord of glory was nailed, we now turn to the other two, seeking to learn some solemn and weighty lessons from the inspired record concerning the men who hung thereon. We will find in these two men samples of the two great classes into which the human family is divided, from the beginning to the end of time, namely the receivers and rejecters of the Christ of God – those who believe in Jesus, and those who believe not. In the first place, it is important to see that there was no essential difference between those two men. They were one in nature, in their recorded history, and in their circumstances. Some have labored to establish a distinction between them; but for what object it is difficult to say, unless it be to dim the luster of the grace that shines forth in the narrative of the penitent thief. It is maintained that there must have been some event or some redeeming feature in his previous history to account for his marvelous end – some hopeful circumstance accounting for his prayer heard at the last.
But Scripture is totally silent regarding anything of the kind. And not only is it silent regarding any redeeming or qualifying circumstance, it actually gives us the testimony of two inspired witnesses to prove that, up to the moment in which Luke introduces him to our notice, he, like his fellow on the other side, was engaged in the terrible work of railing on the Son of God. In Matthew 27:44, we read that “The thieves also, which were crucified with Him, cast the same in His teeth.” So also in Mark 15:32, “They that were crucified with Him reviled Him.”
This is divinely conclusive. It proves beyond question that there was no difference between the two thieves. They were both condemned malefactors; and not only so, but when actually on the confines of the eternal world, they were both occupied in the awful sin of reviling the blessed Son of God.
Therefore, it seems vain to attempt establishing a distinction between these two men, because they were alike in their nature, their guilt, their criminality, and their profane wickedness. There was no difference up to the moment in which the arrow of conviction entered the soul of him whom we usually call the penitent thief. The more clearly this is seen, the more the sovereign grace of God shines out in all its blessed brightness. “There is no difference; for all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.” And, on the other hand, “There is no difference, for the same Lord over all is rich unto all that call upon Him” (compare Rom. 3:22-23, with Rom. 10:12).
The only standard by which men are to be measured is “the glory of God”; and because all have come short of that – the best as well as the worst of men – there is no difference. Were it merely a question of conscience, or of human righteousness, there might be some difference. Were the standard of measurement merely human, then indeed some shades of distinction might easily be established. But it is not so. All must be ruled by the glory of God; and, thus ruled, all are alike – all are deficient. “There is no difference; for all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.”
But, there is another side to this great question. “The same Lord over all is rich unto all that call upon Him.” The riches of the grace of God are such as to reach down to the deepest depths of human ruin, guilt and misery. If the light of divine glory reveals – as nothing else could reveal – man’s utter ruin; the riches of divine grace, as displayed in the person and work of Christ, have perfectly met that ruin, and provided a remedy in every way adequate to meet the claims of the divine glory.
But let us see how all this is illustrated in the striking and beautiful narrative of the penitent thief.
It is evident that in the evangelist Luke, the Spirit of God takes up this interesting case at that special point in which a divine work had begun. Matthew and Mark present him as a blaspheming malefactor. We can hardly conceive a deeper shade of moral turpitude than that which, according to their inspired record, he exhibits to our view. There is not as much as a single relieving tint. All is dark as midnight – dark almost as hell; yet not too dark to be reached by the light that was shining straight down from Heaven through the mysterious medium of that center cross.
It is well to get a profound sense of our true condition by nature. We cannot go too deep into this line of reasoning. The ruin of nature in all its phases and stages is complete. If most of us have not gone to the same length as the thief on the cross – if we have not brought forth the same fruit – if we have not clothed ourselves in forms equally hideous, we can be sure of one thing – it is no thanks to our nature. The human heart is a seed plot in which may be found the seed of every crime that has ever stained the page of human history. If the seed has not germinated and fructified, it is not because there is a difference in the soul, but a difference in surrounding circumstances and influences.
The testimony of Scripture on this great question is distinct and conclusive, “There is no difference.” Men do not like this. It is too leveling for them. By this sweeping statement of inspiration, self-righteousness is cut out by the roots. Man likes to establish distinctions. He cannot bear to be placed in the same category with the Magdalenes, Samaritans, and such like. But it cannot be otherwise. Grace levels all distinctions now; and judgment will, by-and-by, level them all. If we are saved, it is in company with Magdalenes and Samaritans; and if we are lost, it will likewise be in company with such. No doubt, there will be degrees of glory; as there will be degrees of punishment; but as to the real nature and character of the human heart, “there is no difference.” “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked.” What heart? Man’s heart. “For out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false witness, blasphemies.” Out of what heart? Man’s heart. These things could not come out of the heart if they were not there; and if they do not come out in action, it is not because they are not there, but that circumstances have operated to prevent.
Such is the clear and unvarying testimony of Holy Scripture; and whenever the Spirit of God begins to operate on the heart and conscience of a man, He produces the deep sense and full confession of the truth of this testimony. Every divinely convicted soul is ready to adopt these words as his own, “In me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good.” Every truly contrite spirit owns the fact of his total ruin. All wisdom’s children justify God and condemn themselves – there is no exception. All who are truly brought under the convicting power of the Holy Spirit will, without any reserve, set their seal – the seal of their whole moral being to the inspired statement, “there is no difference.”
In the light of the holiness of God, any who hesitate to accept this have yet to learn themselves. If enlightened by the Spirit of God, the most refined, polished and cultivated person will readily take his place with the thief on the cross, because the divine light shining on him reveals the hidden springs of his being, leads him to see the profound depths of his nature – the roots and sources of things. Thus, while relatives, friends and acquaintances – mere onlookers, judging from the surface, may think highly of our character, we ourselves, knowing better, because of divine light, can only exclaim, “O wretched man that I am” – “Behold I am vile” – “Woe is me, I am undone” – “I am a sinful man, O Lord.”
These are the proper utterances of a divinely convicted soul; and it is only when we can thus truly and heartily express ourselves that we are prepared to appreciate the riches of the grace of God as unfolded in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Grace takes up real sinners. “The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which is lost;” and the more fully we realize our lost estate, our hopeless ruin, our utter wretchedness, the more fully we can enter into the fullness and freeness of God’s salvation – a salvation purchased by the blood of the cross.
Hence, we see how brightly grace shines in the salvation of the thief on the cross. There can be no possible mistake regarding him. Clearly he had no good works to trust in. He had performed no deeds of charity. Like the woman brought to Jesus who had sinner, the Lord extended divine grace when He told her to go and sin no more – He did not condemn her. While Jesus was alive He could do what He desired to do for humanity. Yes, it is true that the thief on the cross could not have known about Peter’s divine command in Acts 2, when, after preaching the first Gospel sermon, he was asked, “What must we do?” Of baptism for the remission of sins and the Lord’s Supper the thief knew nothing. The rites, ceremonies, and ordinances of religion could do nothing for him. In other words, as far as he was concerned, his case was a thoroughly hopeless one. For what could he do? Where could he turn? His hands and feet were nailed fast to a malefactor’s cross. It was useless to talk to him about doing or going. While he had use of them, his hands had been stretched forth in deeds of violence; and now they were nailed to a tree, and could do nothing. While he had the use of them, his feet had trodden the transgressor’s terrible path; and now they were nailed to a tree, and could not carry him anywhere.
But, note this. Although the poor thief no longer had use of his hands and feet, his heart and tongue were free. So he spoke to Jesus and as He had done so many times before, our Lord was touched and responded. However, when Jesus shed His blood, died and was resurrected, the command of Peter in Acts 2 became a divine requirement of salvation. We read in that lovely tenth chapter of Romans, “With the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation.”
What precious words. How suited and seasonable for every poor helpless, hopeless, self-destroyed sinner. And, though we must all follow the divine words of Peter and the other New Testament apostles (as well as what Jesus said following His resurrection) regarding “What we must do,” still, we must all have faith in the faith of Jesus. There are no two ways to Heaven. There is not one way for the religionist, the moralist, the Pharisee, and another way for the malefactor. There is but one way, and that way is marked from the very throne of God down to where the guilty sinner lies, dead in trespasses and sins, with the footprints of redeeming love; from thence back to the throne by the precious atoning blood of Christ. Faith in the faith of Jesus is the way to Heaven – a way paved with love, sprinkled with blood, and trodden by a happy holy band of redeemed worshipers gathered from all the ends of the earth, to chant the heavenly anthem, “Worthy is the Lamb that was slain.”
We have said that the heart of the thief was free; yes, free to turn toward that blessed One who hung beside him – that One whom he had just been reviling, but on whom he could now fix his repentant gaze, and to whom he could now bear the noblest testimony uttered by men or angels.
It is instructive and interesting to consider the progress of God’s work in the soul of the dying thief. Indeed the work of God in any soul is always of the deepest possible interest. The operations of the Holy Spirit in us must never be separated from the work of Christ for us; and, we may add, both one and the other are founded on, and inseparably linked with the eternal counsels of God with respect to us. This is what makes it all so real, so solid, and so entirely divine. It is not of man. It is all of God, from first to last – from the first dawning of conviction in the soul until it is introduced into the full-orbed light of the glorious Gospel of the grace of God. Were it otherwise; were there a single atom of the creature in it, from beginning to end, that one atom would neutralize and destroy the whole, rendering it not worth having.
In the case of the thief on the cross, in the words addressed to his fellow, we discern a touch of the Eternal Spirit – the earliest fruit of His sanctifying work: “Dost thou not fear God?” He did not say, “Dost thou not fear punishment?” In every case, the sanctification of the Spirit is evidenced by the fear of the Lord, and a holy abhorrence of evil for its own sake. “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” There may be a fear of judgment, a fear of hell, a fear of the consequences of sin, without the smallest particle of hatred of sin itself. But where the Spirit of God is truly at work in the heart, He produces the real sense of sin and the judgment thereof in the sight of God.
This is repentance. It is a grand reality; in every case an essential element. “God commandeth all men, everywhere, to repent” (Acts 17:30). There is no getting over this – no setting it aside. Some may seek to do away with man’s responsibility on the plea of his inability to do anything right or good. They may seek to persuade us that it is useless or unsound to call on men to repent and be baptized (Acts 2), seeing that men can do nothing of themselves. But, the question is, what is the meaning of the words that we have just culled from the apostle’s address on the day of Pentecost? Did Peter preach the truth? Was he sound in the faith? Was he sufficiently high in doctrine?
In the clearest and most emphatic manner, Paul declares, “God commandeth all men, everywhere, to repent.” Will any turn around and say they cannot? Will any venture to deny man’s responsibility to obey a divine command? If so, they are on dangerous ground. If God commands all men to repent, woe be to those who refuse to do so; and woe be to those who teach that they are not responsible to do so.
But let us devote a few moments to the examination of this great practical question in the light of the New Testament. Let us see whether our Lord and His apostles called on men – “all men, everywhere, to repent.”
In the third chapter of Matthew’s Gospel, we read, “In those days came John the Baptist, preaching in the wilderness of Judæa, and saying, Repent ye: for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”
It will, perhaps, be said that John addressed himself especially to Israel – a people in recognized relationship with Jehovah – and hence this passage cannot be adduced in proof of the universal and abiding necessity of repentance. We merely quote it here in order to show that man, whether Jew or Gentile, is responsible to repent, and that in the time of the New Testament the first voice which falls on the ear is heard calling sinners to repentance. Was the Baptist right or wrong? Was he trespassing on the domain of sound doctrine when he summoned men to repent? Would some of our modern theologians have called him aside, after he was done preaching, and taken him to task for deceiving men by leading them to suppose that they could repent? We would have enjoyed hearing the Baptist’s reply.
But we have the example of a greater than John the Baptist, as our warrant for preaching repentance. In Matthew 4 we read, “From that time, Jesus began to preach, and to say, Repent; for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” Then, in Mark 16:15-16, we read, “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation. He who has believed and has been baptized shall be saved; but he who has disbelieved shall be condemned” (NASB). Dare anyone say to the divine Preacher, “We cannot repent; we cannot believe; or we cannot be baptized. We have no power. We are not responsible!” No; men may argue and reason, and talk theology; but there stands the living record before us – Jesus called on men to believe, repent, be baptized, and that, too, without entering, in any way, on the question of man's ability here or there. He addressed man as a responsible being, as one who was imperatively called to judge himself and his ways, to confess his sins, and repent in dust and ashes. The only true place for a sinner is the place of faith, repentance, confession, and baptism; and if we refuse to take that place in the presence of divine grace, we will be compelled to take it in the presence of divine judgment, when repentance will be too late. “God commandeth all men, everywhere, to repent.”
Passing on to the opening of the Acts of the Apostles, we are privileged to harken to Peter’s address on the day of Pentecost – the most fruitful sermon ever preached in this world – crowned with the glorious result of three thousand souls. And what did Peter preach? He preached Christ, and he called on men to repent. Yes, the great apostle of the circumcision insisted on repentance – self-judgment – true contrition of heart before God. “Then said Peter unto them, Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ, for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost” (Acts 2:38). And, again, “Repent ye therefore and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out” (Acts 3:19).
Was Peter right in calling on men to repent and be converted? Would anyone be justified in saying to him, at the close of his preaching, “How can men repent? How can they be converted? They can do nothing.” One thing is certain, the power of the Holy Spirit accompanied the preaching. He set His seal to it, and that is enough. “God commandeth all men, everywhere, to repent.” Woe to all who refuse.
We have already referred to the preaching of the blessed apostle of the Gentiles, and the great teacher of the Lord’s church. Referring to his ministry at Ephesus, he himself declares in the audience of the elders, “I kept back nothing that was profitable, but have showed you, and have taught you publicly, and from house to house, testifying both to the Jews, and also to the Greeks, repentance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ” (Acts 20:20-21).
So also, in his pungent address to Agrippa, he says, “I was not disobedient unto the heavenly vision; but showed first unto them of Damascus, and at Jerusalem, and throughout all the coasts of Judæa, and then to the Gentiles, that they should repent and turn to God, and do works meet for repentance.”
Thus, drawn from Scripture, we have a body of evidence proving the universal and abiding necessity of repentance that cannot be gainsaid. “God commandeth all men, everywhere, to repent.” There is no avoiding this. Let men beware how they set it aside. We do not believe that any system of theology denying faith, repentance, confession and baptism can be sound.
We have digressed; but the digression was needful, and we now return to our theme.
The case of the penitent thief furnishes an illustration of Peter’s weighty sentence, “Repent and be converted.” In a clear and forcible manner, it teaches us the true meaning of repentance and conversion – two subjects so little understood, so sadly clouded by false teaching.
The human heart is prone to take divine things by the wrong end, presenting things in a one-sided manner; and when false theology combines with this tendency of the heart, the moral effect on the soul is something terrible. Hence, when men are called on in the Gospel message to believe, repent, confess, and be baptized and turn to God, they think it needful to set about doing something or other, in the shape of reading, praying, and attending to the ordinances and offices of so called religion. Thus, they become occupied with their doings instead of judging their state.
These fruitful sources of darkness and misery to precious souls, resulting from the combined influence of self-righteousness and bad theology, are a fatal mistake and of serious damage to the truth of God.
It is marvelous to note the varied forms in which self-righteousness clothes itself. So varied are these forms that one would scarcely recognize it to be what it really is. Sometimes it looks like humility, and speaks largely of the evil and danger of being too presumptuous. Then again, it assumes the garb and adopts the language of what is called experimental religion, which often is nothing more than intense self-occupation. At other times, it expresses itself in the threadbare formularies of systematic divinity – that stumbling-block of souls and the sepulcher of divine revelation.
What then is repentance? In one of its grand elements, it is the thorough judgment of self – of its history and ways. It is the complete breaking up of the entire system of self-righteousness and the discovery of our complete wreck, ruin and bankruptcy. It is the sense of personal vileness, guilt, and danger – a sense produced by the mighty action of the Word and Spirit of God on the heart and conscience. It is a hearty sorrow for sin, and a loathing of it for its own sake.
True, as we have considered above, there are other features and elements in genuine repentance; such as the change of mind pertaining to self, the world, and God. Further, there are various degrees in the depths and intensity of the exercise. But, for the present, we confine ourselves to that feature of repentance illustrated in the touching narrative of the penitent thief, which in one word we may term, self-judgment. This must be constantly insisted on. We greatly fear it is sadly lost sight of in much of our modern preaching and teaching. While trying to make the Gospel simple and easy, we are in danger of forgetting that “God commandeth all men everywhere to repent.” The sinner must be made to feel that he is a sinner, a lost sinner, a guilty sinner, a hell-deserving sinner. He must be made to feel that in the sight of God sin is a terrible thing; so terrible, that nothing short of the death of Christ could atone for it – so terrible, that all who die unpardoned must inevitably be damned – must spend a dreary, never-ending eternity in the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone.
Is there anything meritorious in repentance? Is there anything to build on or to boast in? Has it anything to do with the ground of our salvation, our righteousness, or our acceptance with God – As we might inquire if the consciousness of bankruptcy could form the basis of a man’s credit or future fortune. No; in its deepest and most intensified form, repentance has nothing to do with the ground of our pardon. How could the sense of guilt have anything to do with the ground of pardon? How could the feelings of a drowning man have anything to do with the life-boat that saves him? Or how could the agonies of a man in a house on fire have anything to do with the fire-escape by which he descends from the burning pile?
Look closely at the case of the thief on the cross. Harken to his words: “Dost thou not fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation: and we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds.” Here are the accents of genuine repentance, “we indeed justly.” He felt and accepted that he was justly condemned; that he was reaping only “the due reward of his deeds.” Was there anything meritorious in this? No; it was the judgment of himself, the condemnation of his ways, and the sense of his guilt. And this was right. It was the sure precursor of conversion to God. It was the fruit of the Spirit’s work in his soul, enabling him to appreciate God’s salvation. It was the hearty acknowledgement of his own just condemnation; and, this in no wise contributed to his righteousness before God. It is impossible that the sense of guilt could ever form the basis of righteousness.
Still, there must be repentance; and the deeper the better. It is well that the plough should do its work in breaking up the fallow ground, and making deep the furrows in which the incorruptible seed of the Word may take root. We do not believe that anyone ever had to complain that the ploughshare entered too deeply into the soul. No, because of the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ, we are assured that the more we are led down into the profound depths of our own moral ruin, the more fully we will appreciate the righteousness of God which is by faith of Jesus Christ, unto all, and upon all who hear the words of our Savior (Mark 16:15-16).
But, be it well understood, repentance is not doing this or that. What did the thief do? What could he do? He could not move hand or foot. And yet he was truly repentant. On the page of history, he is handed down as “the penitent thief.” Yes, he was penitent; and his penitence expressed itself in the unmistakable accents of self-judgment. Thus it must always be. Sooner or later, there must be the judgment of sin; and the sooner, the better; and the deeper, the better.
And what then? What is the divine order? “Repent, and be converted.” “Repent, and turn to God.” “He who has believed and has been baptized shall be saved.” It is conviction and conversion. It is the discovery of self and its ruin, and the discovery of God and His remedy. It is condemning self and justifying God. It is finding out the emptiness of self, and finding out the fullness of Christ. It is learning the force and application of those few words, “Thou hast destroyed thyself; but in Me is thy help.”
Notice how this comes out in the brief but comprehensive record of the thief. No sooner does he give expression to the sense of his own just condemnation, than he bears the sweet testimony, “This man hath done nothing amiss.” Here he gives a flat contradiction to the whole world. He joins issue with the chief priests, elders, and scribes, who had delivered up the Holy One as a malefactor. They had declared, “If He were not a malefactor, we would not have delivered Him up unto thee.” But the dying thief declares, “This man hath done nothing amiss.” Thus, in clear and decided testimony, he stands forth to the spotless humanity of the Lord Jesus Christ – that grand truth that lies at the base of “the great mystery of godliness.” He turns from a guilty self to a spotless Christ; and he tells the world that it had made a terrible mistake in crucifying the Lord of glory.
And was not this a good work? Yes, truly it was the best work that anyone could do. To bear a full, clear, bold testimony to Christ, is the most acceptable and fragrant service that any mortal can render to God. Millions have in charity bestowed continents traversed in the interests of philanthropy, spending a lifetime in the dreary exercises of mechanical religiousness – all these things put together are as small dust when compared with one word of heartfelt, genuine, Spirit-taught testimony to God’s beloved Son. The poor thief could do nothing and give nothing; but he was permitted to enjoy the richest and rarest privilege that could possibly fall to the lot of any mortal, the privilege of bearing witness to Christ when the whole world had cast Him out, when one of His own disciples had denied Him, another had sold Him, and all had forsaken Him. This was service; this was work; a service and a work that will live in the records and the memory of Heaven when the proudest monuments of human genius and benevolence will have crumbled and sunk in eternal oblivion.
But we have further lessons to learn from the lips of the dying malefactor. Not only does he bear a bright and blessed testimony to the spotless humanity of Christ, but he also owns Him as Lord and King; and this, too, at a moment, and amid a scene when, to nature’s view, there was not a single trace of lordship or royalty. “He said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when Thou comest into Thy kingdom.”
Think of it – one who a moment before had been railing on the dying Savior, now owning Him as Lord and King. Truly this was divine work. Was the thief saved by the Gospel as preached after the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus? No, but surely this was real conversion – a true turning to God. “Lord, remember me.” How unspeakably precious is this golden chain with its three links. How lovely to see a poor worthless, guilty, hell-deserving “me” linked to the divine Savior by that one word, “remember.”
This was life eternal. A Savior and sinner linked together, is everlasting salvation. Nothing can be simpler. People may talk of works, feelings, and experiences; but here we have the matter presented in its divine simplicity, and in its divine order. First, we have the fruit of a genuine repentance in the words, “We indeed justly”; and then the sweet result of spiritual conversion in the one simple but powerful utterance, “Lord, remember me.” “Repent and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out.” “Repent and turn to God.” “He who has believed and has been baptized shall be saved.”
What marvelous depth and power in those words. As mentioned earlier, it is obvious that while speaking to the thief on the cross, our Lord had not yet shed His blood – had not yet died for the sins of the world. At the appropriate time, following the shedding of His blood; following His death and resurrection, the Holy Spirit was sent on the day of Pentecost (Acts 2), and the apostle Peter preached the first Gospel sermon, and then answered the question, “What must we do?” But, the thief repented – he saw the utter ruin of self. And, by turning to God while on the cross, he found life, peace, and everlasting salvation. When discovering self, he loathed and abhorred it. He discovered God and turned to Him. On the day of Pentecost (Acts 2), we learn from Peter’s answer to the question, “What must we do?” that it is all divinely simple and unspeakably blessed – repentance and conversion are inseparably linked together. They are distinct, yet intimately connected. They must neither be separated nor confounded.
Let us briefly note the divine response to the appeal of the penitent thief. He had said, “Lord, remember me when Thou comest into Thy kingdom.” What is the answer? “To-day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise.” It is as though the blessed Savior had said to him, “Before my death, I will save whom I will. You need not wait for the glory of the kingdom; this very day thou shalt taste the grace of the house – the love of My Father’s home above; I shall have you with Me in that bright paradise, to enjoy full communion with Me long before the glories of the kingdom shall be unfolded.”
Most blessed Savior, such was Thy matchless grace.
Our Lord offered not one reproving word – not a single reference to the past. Not even a glance at the recent heartless wickedness. No; there is never anything like this in the divine dealing with a penitent soul. From the depths of a broken and contrite heart, the thief had said, “We indeed justly.” This was enough. True, it was needful; but it was enough. “A broken and a contrite heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise.” No; and not only did He not despise it, He poured into the thief’s soul the rich and precious consolation of His grace and pardoning love. It is the joy of God to pardon a penitent sinner; and none but a penitent sinner can truly enjoy the pardon of God.
“To-day shalt thou be with Me in paradise.” Here the glories of a present, personal, and perfect salvation pour themselves in divine luster on the gaze of the astonished thief. How thankful we should be that God put this wonderful illustration in the Holy Scriptures.
And, there is not one syllable about doing, giving, feeling, or anything else that might turn the eye inward on self. The eye of the thief had been turned in, and rightly so – it had seen nothing but a deep, dark abyss of guilt and ruin. This was enough. The eye must henceforth and for evermore be turned outward and upward; it must be fixed on the precious Savior who was bringing him to paradise, and on that bright paradise to which He was bringing him.
No doubt the thief could never forget what a sinner he had been – never forget his guilt and wickedness – he never could, he never will; yea, throughout the countless ages of eternity, he and all the redeemed will remember the past. How could it be otherwise? Will we lose the power of memory in the future? No; but every remembrance of the past will only tend to swell the note of praise which the heart will give forth as we think of the grace that shines in those precious words, “Their sins and their iniquities will I remember no more.” Such is the style of divine forgiveness. God will never again refer to those sins that His own loving hand has cancelled by the blood of the cross. No, never. He has cast them behind His back forever. They have sunk as lead into the deep waters of His eternal forgetfulness. All praise to His glorious Name.
Let us now, for a brief moment, fix the eye on the third cross. On it we behold a guilty sinner; but more than that. The penitent thief was that. They were in the same condemnation. No one need go to hell simply because he is a sinner, because Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, “even the chief.” There is not a sinner this day, outside the precincts of hell, who is not within the reach of God’s salvation if he only realize his need of it. No one need be lost merely because he is a ruined, guilty, hell-deserving sinner.
But, on that third cross we behold an unbelieving sinner. This is the solemn point. Without any hesitation, we may declare that had the occupant of that cross, like his penitent companion, cast himself on the grace of the dying Savior, he would have met with the same response. There was grace in the heart of Jesus to meet the one as well as the other. But he did not want it, would not have it. He remained impenitent and unbelieving until the dark shadows of death gathered around him, and the darker horrors of hell burst on his guilty soul. He perished within arm’s length of the Savior and salvation.
What finite mind can take in this tremendous thought? Who can fully estimate the contrast between those two men? True, the contrast was in one point; but that one point involved consequences of eternal moment – the reception or rejection of the Son of God; believing or not believing on that blessed One who was hanging between them, as near to one as He was to the other. There was no difference in their nature; no difference in their condition; no difference in their circumstances. The grand and all-important difference lay in this: one believed in Jesus, and the other did not; one was enabled to say, “Lord, remember me”; the other said, “If thou be the Christ.”
What a broad line of demarcation and contrast. What an awful chasm between two men so alike in other respects – so near to one another – so near to the divine Savior. But it is the same in all cases, everywhere, and at all times. The one simple but solemn question for each and for all is, “What is my relation to Christ?” All hinges on this – yes, for time and eternity. Have I received Christ or not? Am I in Him or not?
The two thieves represent two great classes into which mankind has been divided, from the days of Cain and Abel down to this very moment. God’s Christ is the one great and all-deciding test in every case. All the shades of moral character; all the grades of social life; all the castes, classes, sects and parties into which the human family has been, is, or ever shall be divided – all are absorbed in this one momentous point – “In or out of Christ.” The difference between the two thieves is the difference between saved and lost: the Lord’s church and the world – the children of God and the children of God’s great enemy. True, in the case of the two thieves the matter is brought to a point, so that we can see it at a glance; but it is the same in every case. The person of Christ is the one great boundary line that marks off the new creation from the old – the kingdom of God from the kingdom of Satan – the children of light from the children of darkness; and this boundary line stretches into eternity.
On which side are we standing? Like the penitent thief, are we linked to Christ? Or, like his impenitent companion, do we speak of Christ with an “if”? What is our answer? We pray this question is not put away, but that each of us will take it up and look it solemnly in the face. Eternal joy or woe hangs on our answer. Jesus suffered and died for each of us – He hung on that center cross for all of us.
