Luke 23 43 Sermon

The Last Conversation At The Cross

There are two men hanging beside Jesus in Luke 23, and they are dying. That is not a dramatic exaggeration. It is the plain, brutal fact of the text. Three crosses, three men, and the clock is running out for all of them. What happens in those final moments between one of those criminals and Jesus Christ is one of the most searching and grace-saturated exchanges in all of Scripture. It is a conversation that cuts right to the heart of what the gospel actually is, and what it actually does.

Let us read it together. Luke 23:39-43 in the Christian Standard Bible:

"Then one of the criminals hanging there began to yell insults at him: 'Aren't you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!' But the other answered, rebuking him: 'Don't you even fear God, since you're under the same sentence? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we're getting back what we deserve for the things we did, but this man has done nothing wrong.' Then he said, 'Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.' And he said to him, 'Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.'"

That is the text. Five verses. One dying man. One dying Savior. And a promise that has echoed across twenty centuries.

I want to walk through this passage carefully, because every word is doing something. And when we are finished, I believe the grace of God will be clearer than it was when we started.

The Two Criminals And The Question They Both Faced

Both criminals are in the same situation. Same sentence. Same nails. Same pain. Same limited time. And yet they respond to Jesus in completely opposite ways.

The first criminal mocks Jesus. He says, "Aren't you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!" Now notice what he is really asking for. He is not asking for forgiveness. He is not asking for mercy. He is asking for rescue from consequences. He wants out of the pain. He wants off the cross. He is using Jesus the way a lot of people use religion, as a means to an end, a way to get something, a tool for comfort rather than a Lord to be trusted.

That first criminal represents something we need to name honestly. There is a version of approaching Jesus that is really just approaching him for what he can provide. Health, relief, a better life, a way out of trouble. And when Jesus does not perform on demand, that version of faith evaporates. The first criminal never gets past his own immediate need long enough to see who is hanging beside him.

The second criminal is different. And the difference is not that he is a better person. He is not. He says so himself. He says, "We're getting back what we deserve for the things we did." That is a remarkable statement. That is a man who has stopped arguing with his sentence. He has stopped blaming the system, the judges, the soldiers, or his circumstances. He owns what he did. He says plainly, we deserve this.

That is what repentance looks like in its most stripped-down form. Not a long religious process. Not years of moral improvement before you are eligible to approach God. It is an honest reckoning with the truth about yourself. We did wrong. This is just. I have no defense.

And then he turns to Jesus.

What The Second Criminal Saw

Before we get to his request, we need to notice what this man saw that the other criminal missed. He rebukes his companion and says, "Don't you even fear God?" He recognizes that God is real, that judgment is real, and that the man on the center cross is not just another condemned prisoner.

He says, "This man has done nothing wrong." In the middle of his own agony, this criminal has reached a conclusion about Jesus that the religious leaders, the crowd, and even most of the disciples had not yet settled in their hearts. This man is innocent. This man is different. This man is who he says he is.

And so he makes the most audacious request in the New Testament. He says, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."

Think about what he is asking. He is not asking to be remembered as a good man. He is not asking for a second chance to prove himself. He is asking to be remembered by a king. He is looking at a man covered in blood, hanging on a cross, and he is calling him a king with a kingdom. That is faith. Broken, desperate, dying faith, but genuine faith. He sees through the shame of the cross to the glory of the one who hangs there.

He does not ask to deserve the kingdom. He does not claim to have earned it. He simply asks to be remembered. That is the cry of a man who has nothing left to offer and knows it.

The Answer That Changes Everything

Jesus responds. And what he says is one of the most breathtaking sentences in all of Scripture.

"Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise."

Not someday. Not eventually. Not after you have done enough or waited long enough. Today. The same day. Before sundown. This man who had lived a life that deserved condemnation would, within hours, be in the presence of Jesus in paradise.

No baptism. No church membership. No years of discipleship. No track record of faithful living. Just a dying man, an honest confession, a desperate request, and the word of Jesus Christ.

Now, I want to be careful here, because this passage is sometimes used to argue that none of those other things matter, that baptism, discipleship, and the life of faith are optional. That is not what this passage teaches. What this passage teaches is that salvation is entirely by the grace of God through faith in Jesus Christ, and that grace is so powerful it can reach a man in the last hour of his life.

The thief on the cross is not a model for how to live. He is a testimony to how grace works. He could not be baptized. He could not join a church. He could not serve, give, or grow in any of the normal ways. He was dying. And Jesus met him exactly where he was.

For everyone else who walks out of here today with breath in their lungs and years ahead of them, the call is to follow Jesus in the fullness of discipleship. But the promise this passage makes is clear: no one is too far gone. No one has waited too long. No one has done too much. The grace of Jesus Christ reaches to the very edge of human life.

What This Passage Says To Us Today

Let me bring this home in three directions.

First, this passage confronts our tendency to approach Jesus on our own terms. The first criminal wanted Jesus to perform. He wanted a transaction. A lot of people today are in that same posture, not hostile to Jesus exactly, but treating him like a resource rather than a Lord. If you are here today and that describes you, this passage is an invitation to look more carefully at who Jesus actually is. He is not a vending machine for better circumstances. He is the King of a kingdom that death cannot touch.

Second, this passage shows us what genuine repentance looks like. It is not a feeling. It is not a length of time. It is an honest agreement with God about the truth of your own life. The second criminal did not minimize what he had done. He did not compare himself favorably to someone worse. He said, we deserve this. That kind of honesty before God is not weakness. It is the beginning of everything. It is the door through which grace walks in.

Third, this passage gives us the clearest possible picture of what Jesus came to do. He did not come to reward the deserving. He came to save the undeserving. He did not die on that cross to give good people a little extra help. He died to give condemned people a way home. The second criminal deserved nothing from Jesus. He received everything. That is the gospel. That is grace.

If you are in this room today and you have been carrying the weight of things you have done, things you are not sure God can forgive, I want you to hear the word of Jesus to that dying man. Today. The promise of Jesus is not reserved for people who have cleaned themselves up first. It is extended to people who come to him exactly as they are, with nothing to offer but an honest heart and a desperate need.

A Word To Those Who Already Believe

For those of you who have been walking with Jesus for years, this passage is not just an evangelistic text. It is a reminder of the foundation you are standing on. You did not earn your way in. You were remembered by a king who had no obligation to remember you. That should produce in us a deep, settled humility and a genuine compassion for people who are still far from God.

The second criminal had no time to serve, no opportunity to give back, no chance to make up for what he had done. But you do. You have been given time, breath, and the Spirit of God living inside you. The grace that saved you is the same grace that sends you. Let the cross that gave you life give you a mission.

The Invitation

If you do not know Jesus Christ today, the conversation at the cross is an open door for you. You do not need a perfect record. You do not need a long history of church attendance. You need what that dying man had: an honest acknowledgment of who you are, a clear-eyed recognition of who Jesus is, and a simple request, Lord, remember me.

He will answer. He answered a man on a cross with hours to live. He will answer you.

And if you already know him, let this passage renew your wonder. You were remembered by the King. Go live like it.

Sources Consulted

Bock, Darrell L. Luke. Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament. Baker Academic, 1994.

Green, Joel B. The Gospel of Luke. New International Commentary on the New Testament. Eerdmans, 1997.

Morris, Leon. Luke. Tyndale New Testament Commentaries. InterVarsity Press, 1988.

Stein, Robert H. Luke. New American Commentary. Broadman and Holman, 1992.

The Holy Bible, Christian Standard Bible. Holman Bible Publishers, 2017.