Last Sunday of Pentecost, 20 November 2022: Jeremiah 23:1-6; Canticle 16; Colossians 1:11-20; Luke 23:33-43
It’s the end of the year (for the church at least!) and as we do in the world, we glance back but mostly look forward. Jeremiah promises that the Lord will both “attend” to the evildoers who have scattered his flock, and then “gather the remnant” back to the sheep fold, and they shall “be fruitful and multiply”. “They shall not fear any longer”. Furthermore, in the future the Lord will raise up for David “a righteous branch”, who shall “execute justice and righteousness in the land”. That’s quite a promise!
The Canticle we say today instead of a psalm is the song of Zechariah, one of the canticles we use during evening prayer. Zechariah had not believed the promise of a child to his wife Elizabeth, and had been rendered mute for his disbelief. When his son was born, he was able to speak again, and these are his first words. He recites the ancient promises to Israel, and points to the way John will have a role in fulfilling them. “The dawn from on high will break upon us!”
The Gospel takes us, finally, to the cross. This feels like an ending, but it is also a beginning. Jesus asks God to forgive those who are crucifying him, “because they know not what they do”. He is mocked and taunted: if he is a King, why is he there? In Luke’s account, we have the two thieves who are crucified with Jesus. One joins the taunt: why can’t you save yourself and us? The other thief pushes back, reminding his fellow that they were condemned justly. “We are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong”. He then asks Jesus to remember him “when you come into your kingdom”. Jesus instead promises that the second thief will join him in paradise that day.
This echoes Paul, who promises us that God has “rescued us from the power of darkness, and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved son”.
Every time this Gospel comes around, I am reminded of the end of a poem by John Shea, “A Prayer to Jesus”, where he remarks that, “I am both thieves”. So are we all. We all at times want magician Jesus to whisk us away from suffering and into Paradise. Can we just skip the pain? At other times, we are all too aware of our failings and limitations. There’s no one to one relationship here, this much sin leading to this much suffering. It often seems as if suffering is unequally distributed.
Jesus’ promise to the second thief is not that he won’t suffer: he will. He will die the same cruel and long death that Jesus will die. But that is not the end. This is the thing with our suffering: it is not the end of the story.
We often pray for Jesus to be with us in times of need. But Jesus flips this around: we will be with Jesus. “Today you will be with me in Paradise.”