This message has been adapted from a Sunday evening chapel service at the Lima Rescue Mission.
Part One
We love the story about the thief on the cross.[1] Why?
In those final moments of his earthly life, the thief doesn’t endure a catechism class.[2] He doesn’t submit to water baptism or stumble through an awkward interview about church membership with the elders. There’s no congregational vote. He simply trusts in Jesus, receives assurance of salvation, and enters Paradise before the end of the day.[3]
The thief exemplifies the same gospel that Paul taught straightforwardly in Ephesus: “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.”[4] Our works contribute nothing of merit to our salvation, which is God’s gift to sinners who deserve His wrath.[5] We’re saved by grace, through faith: a doctrine and a story each well worthy of our love.
Of course, if we’re considering popularity, it doesn’t hurt that the thief goes straight to Paradise without ever getting bullied into volunteering for VBS. Apart from a quick jab at the other thief on Calvary,[6] he doesn’t have to wrangle with other people at all, let alone with the church’s AV equipment. Perhaps more than any other figure in the gospels, the thief’s salvation seems individual and private: “between me and my Jesus.”
For skeptics outside of the church and fed-up Christians on the inside, “thief-on-the-cross-salvation” is an appealing prospect. A weary Christian might look back and forth between the thief on the cross and the church bulletin board, thinking to himself, “Well, cooking for the youth group isn’t a salvation issue…”
He’d be right, just as surely as he’d be wrong to pass by the opportunity for service on the grounds that “it’s not a salvation issue.” After all, it’s not as though Christians have only ever cooked their casseroles over the fiery pit of Hell. We have good reasons to take good works seriously, and zero of them involve a fear of condemnation or a vain attempt at earning salvation.
Call me crazy, but I’m beginning to suspect that many appeals to “the thief on the cross” are motivated by a desire to shrug off any clear expectations for the Christian life, more than by any commitment to sound gospel theology.
Part Two
Imagine that Jesus ended His conversation with the thief on the cross differently.
Instead of Jesus saying, “Truly, I say to you, today you shall be with me in Paradise,” imagine him saying: “Truly, I say to you, one day you shall be with me in Paradise. Now come down from your cross, and let your wounds be healed. Don’t worry about the Romans; they won’t bother you anymore.” And the thief is released to live out the rest of his natural life on earth.
How will “the thief on the cross” live, now that he has become “the thief off the cross”? Whether the thief is on or off the cross, he’s saved through faith—and God’s Word has provided us with a clear picture of faith in life. Consider how the “faith, not works” teaching that Paul delivered to the Ephesians continues: “…for we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.”[7]
A so-called faith that does not produce good works is dead.[8] Doubtless, God saves us apart from our works, but Paul reminds the Roman church that this is no license to work sin.[9] In fact, Paul begins and ends his letter to the Romans by declaring that God’s saving work produces “the obedience of faith” in His people.[10] Christ commands His disciples to discern between true faith and counterfeits, and the test is simple obedience to the will of God the Father,[11] perfectly revealed in Jesus the Son.[12]
On Good Friday, the thief entered Paradise through faith. But this faith was no momentary “decision for Christ.” It was not the kind of “commitment” that bears no lasting implications for works. The very same faith, seen off the cross, moves sinners to repent continually; to follow Jesus in discipleship; to share in the fellowship of Christ’s people, whom God is building into a spiritual temple of living stones.[13]
Part Three
Too often, we have reduced faith to a momentary event, rather than honoring faith as a spiritual reality that will endure long after the spiritual gifts have passed away.[14] More than distinguishing faith and works, as Scripture does, we have taken the unbiblical step of detaching them. We have read our faulty understanding of faith back into the story of the thief on the cross. How else could we be so blind to the good works that the thief performs on Calvary?
The faithful thief hears another crucified “evildoer” mocking Jesus, echoing the taunts of Satan in the wilderness.[15] In turn, the faithful thief rebukes this blasphemy and urges the evildoer to “fear God.”[16]
The faithful thief confesses that he and the blasphemous thief are, alike, justly condemned for their sins. But in the same breath, he declares that Jesus dies unjustly, as a man who has “done nothing wrong.”[17]
Knowing himself worthy of condemnation, the faithful thief throws himself upon the mercy and grace of the Crucified One who has done nothing wrong. He appeals to Jesus as the Old Testament saints appealed to the LORD: “Remember me!” He recognizes Jesus as the Christ—the anointed king of God’s kingdom—and pleads for Jesus to favor him with kingly power.[18]
Even as he dies with his hands and feet nailed to a cross, the faithful thief brings forth good works. He confesses his own worthiness of condemnation, rebukes blasphemy, calls sinners to fear God, recognizes Jesus as both the LORD and Messiah, and throws himself publicly on the Savior’s grace and mercy. None of these works earns the thief’s salvation, but all of them spring from the only kind of faith that receives assurance of salvation from Christ.[19]
If the thief did these things as he died on a cross, how can we—“thieves off the cross”—possibly do less?
[1] Luke 23:39-43.
[2] There are better translations than “thief.” Most modern translations opt for “criminal,” but the KJV and its successors preserve the compound structure of the Greek word [kakourgos] with “malefactor.” “Evildoer” is probably the most straightforward translation, but I will keep calling him “the thief on the cross,” because everybody else seems to.
[3] Luke 23:43.
[4] Ephesians 2:8,9, ESV.
[5] Ephesians 2:1-7.
[6] Luke 23:40.
[7] Ephesians 2:10.
[8] James 2:14-19.
[9] Romans 6:1,2.
[10] Romans 1:5-6,16:25-27.
[11] Matthew 7:15-23.
[12] John 5:30, 6:38, 8:29, et al.
[13] Matthew 6:18, 1 Peter 2.
[14] 1 Corinthians 13:13.
[15] Luke 23:39 ESV supplies “railed against,” which obscures a perfectly good cognate [blaspheméo] (cf. 4:1-12).
[16] Luke 23:40 ESV supplies “rebuke” [epitimáo]: a word that Luke associates with Christ’s campaign against the demons (4:35,39,41; 9:42).
[17] Luke 23:41 (cf. Is. 53:9, Col. 2:13,14).
[18] Luke 23:42. There are 8 exact matches for the phrase “remember me” [mnēsthētí mou] in the Greek OT (LXX). In seven of these instances, it is a prayer for God’s favor: e.g., “Remember not the sins of my youth or my transgressions; according to your steadfast love remember me, for the sake of your goodness, O LORD!” (Ps. 25:7). In the remaining instance, it is a petition from Joseph to Pharaoh’s chief cupbearer (Gen. 40:14), and it goes unheeded (40:23).
[19] Luke 23:43.
Photo credit: Titian. Detail of Christ and the Good Thief. 1566, Pinacoteca Nazionale (Bologna, Italy). Oil on canvas.
3 Responses
Matt, I appreciate the encouragement to distinguish between faith and works, but not to detach faith from works. That is a helpful admonition! Thank you for this exhortation!
This is so good…an excellent perspective and reminder to live out my 2026 with purpose and intentionality!
Matt – This is a great perspective on this biblical account, presented in a fresh way. Thanks!