Dying Grace: “And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, today shalt thou be with me in paradise.” Luke 23:43. The thief on the cross had nothing to offer, no works to present, no time to reform, no reputation to defend. His life was a public failure, his death a sentence well deserved. And yet, in the final moments of his life, Christ spoke words that forever define the nature of divine grace: “Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.”
This is precisely where the offense of the cross arises. For while most are willing to confess that salvation is “by grace,” few are content to let the cross strip them of every distinction. We instinctively seek some distinction, some feature that sets us apart. But the cross levels every claim and leaves us standing on the same ground. “For there is no difference, for all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God; being justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.” Romans 3:22-24.
This is where we may want to ask ourselves, on what footing do we expect to stand before God? Most would never say it outright, but many assume their case will be heard on better terms than a condemned criminal gasping for breath beside a crucified Christ. Scripture, however, places the thief on the cross before us not as a one-time exception granted under unusual circumstances, but as a clear revelation of the character of God, revealing what kind of grace He gives, and to whom.
Nothing in the narrative suggests that his case required special handling, nor that the mercy shown unto him was a deviation from the rule. On the contrary, his salvation exposes the rule itself. Here, at the point of absolute moral and religious bankruptcy, grace is seen in its purest form, unconditioned, unbargained, and resting entirely in the word of Christ.
It is easy, even natural, to imagine that we will stand before God on terms slightly more respectable than the thief on the cross. And yet, the gospel dismantles that assumption. Any hope of salvation that rises above the footing on which the dying thief stood is already a denial of grace; for if a man imagines that he will stand before God on more respectable terms then he is not seeking salvation by grace at all, but by a different god altogether. Such a god would have to admire what men admire, reward what men call virtue, and reserve mercy only for those who appear worthy of it. Let that sink in for a moment! If salvation required anything at our hands, any condition to fulfill or step to ascend, he stood utterly without hope. Yet it was precisely there, at the bottom, with nothing left, that Christ met him with mercy. Any attempt to soften this truth, to suggest that the thief possessed some hidden virtue or preparatory condition, is simply an effort to rescue human pride. In the thief, we are given not a puzzle to solve, but a revelation to believe. Romans 3:27. MPJ.