Have you ever looked into the face of a real king? You may have seen phony kings, such as the king of the homecoming parade or the king of the Mardi Gras. Doubtless these make-believe kings were dressed in elaborate, elegant robes and wore gilded crowns on their heads. If we ever think of kings we picture them sitting on golden thrones, dressed in ermine and velvet and jewel-encrusted crowns. They are surrounded by high-ranking courtiers and cheered by an adoring people.
Therefore, it can come as something of a shock to look into the face of a king on a cross. But that is exactly what the Gospel of Luke invites us to do.
This king has no gorgeous robes. He has been stripped of his meager clothes, and soldiers gamble for them at the foot of the cross. He is not surrounded by subservient courtiers nor adoring people but by a jeering mob and mocking soldiers. On his right and on his left there are no high-ranking functionaries but two criminals, each hanging on a cross.
But there it is for all to see, the inscription nailed securely to the top of the upright beam: "This is the King of the Jews." Here is an official government proclamation and indictment. Is this some kind of cruel joke? Is this the governor's way of humiliating the Jews? How can such a powerless, pitiful figure be a king? What brings this man to the cross is the recurring suspicion that he is a king. His enemies bring him before the governor and one of their accusations is that he has been "saying that he himself is the Messiah, a king" (Luke 23:2).
The governor asks him, "Are you the king of the Jews?" (Luke 23:3). The man does not deny the title. Since the governor can find no legitimate charge against the prisoner, he takes the phrase "King of the Jews" and makes that into the indictment. The soldiers who are carrying out the crucifixion taunt the man with demands that he prove he is a king. "If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself."
Therefore, the inscription on the cross should come as no great surprise. Much preparation has been made for it. Those who watch and those who take part in this execution think they are crucifying a person to whom the title "king" can be applied only in derision and jest. But there is one character in the drama who has insight beyond the others. He is a most unlikely prophet. He too hangs on a cross. He is facing death because of serious crimes he has committed. He admits he is a sinner. He does not protest that he is being treated unfairly. But he sees in the man who is dying beside him one who is indeed a king. This condemned man who recognizes the accused as the one who reigns over a kingdom is the lone voice raised in his defense. "This man has done nothing wrong." Then he makes an amazing request and a remarkable statement of faith. "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." Somehow this man looks beyond all the evidences of defeat and powerlessness in which Jesus' adversaries revel. Where they see a vanquished enemy trembling on the edge of the abyss, he sees a royal figure exercising authority in most unexpected and radical ways.
What does he see, what does he hear that others are too blind and deaf to comprehend? The three condemned men are lifted up on their crosses. Pain beyond expression surges through their bodies. Yet the man on the central cross prays, "Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing." What sort of person makes a prayer like this when he is dying in pain viciously inflicted by others? Should not such a one cry for help, plead for rescue, or even ask for a swift death? Is it not more appropriate for him to call down judgment and retribution upon those who take part in his execution than to pray for their forgiveness?
Perhaps the second criminal ponders questions such as these. Forgiveness is something for which he longs but does not expect to receive. But here is a man hanging beside him on another cross praying for forgiveness for those who execute him. What a strange strength is this! What a radical sense of mercy and justice! If he can ask forgiveness for those who kill him, perhaps he can ask forgiveness for me. Perhaps he can even grant it himself.
Now the compassionate criminal witnesses another development in the compelling drama. The powerful leaders of the people taunt Jesus and call on him to prove who he is. "He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!" So the leaders admit that Jesus saved others. Therefore they grant him some measure of power. But in their minds if he can save others, surely he can save himself. How can the Messiah, the chosen of God, allow himself to stay on a cross? The soldiers too join in the chorus of mockery. "If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!"
It is the accepted wisdom of priests and soldiers alike that one who possesses power always uses it for his own advantage. Why be a king if you cannot prove it by spectacular demonstrations of force and might? For Jesus these mocking words must bring back the echo of an earlier time when he is standing on the pinnacle of the Temple in Jerusalem and hears the voice of the Tempter: "If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here" (Luke 4:9). He resists such a temptation then, and resists it yet again. But the criminal evidently sees in Jesus' refusal to bend to the demands of his powerful tormentors an authority which is not compelled to prove itself. Is there a greater act of authority, courage, and dignity than to refuse to save oneself in order to save others? The criminal, with great effort, turns his head and looks again at the inscription on the central cross. "This is the King of the Jews." Perhaps he thinks, "They write better than they know."
His companion in crime hangs on a cross on the other side of the cross of the king. He is not impressed by Jesus' prayer for forgiveness for his executioners. He bristles when Jesus does not use his authority as Messiah to save all three of those who are condemned. If he has saved others then here is a chance to do it again. "Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us."
But the second criminal strongly rebukes his companion and reminds him: "We indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our crimes, but this man has done nothing wrong." This man is given the insight to see the moral reality of the situation. He and his partner in crime are guilty sinners. They are bearing the consequences of their evil deeds. But Jesus is innocent. That very innocence enhances the regal authority of Jesus as he prays for his enemies and refuses to prove his power. Here is innocence suffering on behalf of guilt. Such understanding gives the confessing sinner boldness to make his confident request and to state his certain faith. "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."
This man believes that Jesus is not defeated but that he will be vindicated by God and ushered into his proper place in the divine scheme of things. He believes that Jesus reigns over a kingdom where forgiveness and pardon can be found and where condemned criminals like himself can find restoration rather than recompense. He greatly desires to enter into such a kingdom and be ruled by such a king. Now hear the regal proclamation in response to the sinner's prayer and confession. "Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise."
Paradise is a symbol of a royal garden with cooling streams and lush trees bearing delightful fruit. Whatever its literal reality, it is in radical contrast to the present scene where three crosses stand beneath a merciless sun, where a milling, hostile mob watches without sympathy and soldiers laugh and gamble for discarded clothes.
Jesus promises the repentant criminal that he will be removed from such a scene and join Jesus himself in Paradise. Nor is this something that will come in the far distant future. "Today you will be with me in Paradise." What a leap of faith it takes to believe such a promise, but the pardoned criminal has already confirmed his faith by recognizing a king on a cross. Therefore, he can trust the king to fulfill his promise.
On this day when the Christian calendar invites us to worship Christ the King, our attention turns to the cross as Jesus' throne and the crucifixion as the means of his exaltation. Through his ministry Jesus proclaimed the Kingdom of God and declared that it was near. He told parables to set forth some of its characteristics. He invited those of humble, childlike faith to enter it. He warned the self-righteous that they were far from the kingdom. He acknowledged that his kingdom was immensely different from the kingdoms of the world.
Early in Luke's account of Jesus' ministry, Jesus in a sermon in his hometown of Nazareth sets forth some of the characteristics of his reign. He bases these on words from the prophet Isaiah. He declares that the Spirit of the Lord has anointed him "to bring good news to the poor ... to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor" (Luke 4:18-19).
Perhaps our most appropriate response to the vision of the King on a Cross is to hear the trumpet sound and listen to the loud voices in heaven which are saying, "The kingdom of this world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever," and to join the 24 elders in singing, "We give you thanks, Lord God Almighty, who are and who were, for you have taken your great power and begun to reign" (Revelation 11:15-17).
Alleluia! Long live the King!