Thursday, April 28, 2011

ST 21 : THE THIEF ON THE OTHER CROSS

Glory to God in the highest ... 


The Story Of Easter as told by the good thief on the other cross.

Images reflect on events during the Holy Week.




I don't belong here. 

I really don't. 

Paradise is the last place I expected 

to end up after all I've done. 

Let me tell you my story.


























Palm Sunday : Jesus enters Jerusalem



I am -- I was -- an armed robber, I guess you'd call it. 

Me and Jake and the others would live in caves in the 
Judean hills near the road from Jerusalem to Jericho. 

We made our living by violence. 
 
We wouldn't take on people in the big groups 
that passed. They traveled together for safety. 
But a family alone would be an easy mark, 
as well as anyone fool enough to travel by himself.


























Maundy Thursday - The Last Supper



Brandishing a strong staff would usually do the trick. 

Threaten them with a beating and they'd give up 
without much of a fight. I've been known to break 
a few bones in my day, God forgive me. 

I don't think I actually killed anyone, but then 
I never stayed around long enough to find out.




















 Jesus washes the feet of his disciples ...


The first time I meet Jesus is when I am invited to 
a party in His honor in Jericho at the home of a 
rich tax collector named Zacchaeus. 

I am introduced, we shake hands, and Jesus looks 
me in the eye for a long moment. He can see right 
into me, who I am, every crime I have ever committed. 

Then He smiles this big friendly smile. 

"You know," He says. "There's forgiveness for you 
in My Kingdom. How about it?"

















 Jesus preaches to a crowd.


I drop my eyes, say something non-committal, 
and shuffle away. The next day I'm in the crowd, 
hanging on every word he says. 

Jesus is talking about His Kingdom, comparing it 
to a mustard seed, calling it the Kingdom of Heaven. 

I  want so much to go up to Him after He has 
finished and take Him up on that forgiveness thing, 
but I just can't bring myself to do it.


























 Judas betrays Jesus.


I wish I had. 

It isn't much later when me and my friend Jake, 
the guy on the third cross, get caught by a 
Roman patrol. 

The others run off, but they catch us, beat us silly, 
drag us into Jerusalem, and throw us in prison. 

No mercy for the likes of us.


























Good Friday : Jesus is nailed to the cross.



And so it happens ...

that on the same day that they crucify Jesus, 

they crucify me and Jake ...

one of us on His left, the other on His right. 

This ain't no normal crucifixion. 

Mobs of people are there just because of Jesus. 

Self-righteous Pharisees are swaggering and mocking. 

"If you're some kind of messiah," one sneers, 

"come on down from that cross. 

If you're a savior, save yourself -- if you can!"



























 Jesus says, "It is finished."



Jake begins cat-calling, too, if you can imagine that. 

I yell over at him, 

"You miserable thug, don't you have any fear of God? 
Can't you see that we're going to die just like He is? 
Show a little decency! We're getting exactly what we
deserve, but He ain't done nothing wrong."

Jake quiets down and the Pharisees lose interest. 


























Jesus dies on the cross.



But I can't get Jericho out of my mind. 

I can't forget Jesus' eyes, His words, His invitation. 

And so I call over to Him, though it's getting hard 

to breathe and talking makes it that much harder.


























 The body of Jesus is taken down from the cross 
and placed in the arms of His mother.



"Jesus!" I say. 

He turns His head towards me. 

"Jesus, I was there in Jericho. I met you at a party 

at Zacchaeus' house. Remember?"

He looks at me for a moment and then nods His head 

just a little. 

He does remember.


























 Saturday Vigil : Jesus is laid in the tomb.



"I never forgot what You said. 

I wanted to say yes, but just couldn't. 

And now look at me -- look at us!"



He is in bad shape -- exhausted, 

in excruciating pain, 

back oozing, 

breath labored. 

He isn't going to last long. 

I can see that. 

But somehow, I can see beyond all that. 


























 Easter Sunday : The stone securing the tomb has been rolled away.



He was the Messiah, is the Messiah, 

no matter what those priests and Romans 

and Pharisees have done to Him. 

And when He dies, He will be with God. 

In a few hours, maybe less, He will be vindicated. 

He will reign in that Kingdom He told us about.


























 The tomb is empty.



"Jesus," I call again, quieter now.

He opens His eyes. 

They are the same eyes, the same piercing, 

loving, honest eyes.

"Jesus," I say, "when You come into Your Kingdom, 

would You remember me?"


























 The women heard a voice saying, 
"Why do you look for the living among the dead?"


His words are labored, His lips parched, 

but I can still hear Him pretty well. 

"Truly, I say to you ..." His voice cracks, 

then is stronger for a moment. 

"Truly, this very day you will be with Me in Paradise."


























 "He is not here ..."

 
His eyes droop. He is fading quickly now. 

But I believe Him. I do! 

That's what gets me through those next few hours 

until they break my legs to kill me. 

I do believe Him! 



























"He is risen ..."




And then I find myself here in Heaven, in Paradise. 

I sure don't deserve to be here, but here I am anyway. 

I guess that's what a man like me gets when the 

King himself grants a pardon. 

Full forgiveness. 

Pretty amazing, don't you think?



By Dr Ralph F. Wilson.



























The purest meaning of Easter is the celebration of Jesus' resurrection 
up to Heaven and His promise of eternal life.


Thank You Jesus ... 

for dying on the cross for me and saving me from my sins. Because of Your resurrection, You have conquered death. 
I will no longer die in vain but have eternal life with You. 

Forever. :D



























 a silent thot ...
by lynn phua