Luke 23:33-43
“Do you think I’ve been good enough to get into heaven?”
In a seminary class, it might have been an interesting hypothetical question to begin a discussion of theology or philosophy. I might have enjoyed the intellectual challenge of trying to answer it. But it wasn’t a hypothetical question being asked in a classroom. It was quite serious and quite personal. The person who asked it was my mother. She had been fighting cancer for about four years, and we knew that it was terminal. For her the answer to the question was not about theology or philosophy; it was about facing death with a sense of peace.
“Do you think I’ve been good enough to get into heaven?”
Where could I begin to find an answer that would satisfy my mother or myself? How could I give her the hope and the courage that she needed?
I found myself thinking about the day Jesus died, and about the people who were there on that day that we have come to call Good Friday.
The Jewish leaders made a point of getting close to the cross where Jesus hung; they wanted him to know they were there. They were the ones who had put him there. Now, these religious leaders were not what we would call bad people. We would identify them under any other circumstances as the good guys. They were serious about their religion. They expected others to be serious about it, too.
They studied the Law of Moses and listened to the scribes offer interpretations of the Law in reference to every conceivable situation that might present itself, about how to live out the Law. And then these men set about keeping the letter of the Law every single day. The Law said, “Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy.” What did it mean to keep the Sabbath holy? There were literally thousands of definitions and explanations. The most basic was that you did no work on the Sabbath day. And they could tell you exactly how many steps you could take before it became work. They knew every jot and tittle of what it meant to honor your father and your mother. They could explain just what it meant to not covet your neighbor’s wife or possessions. And they made sure to offer the proper sacrifices at the proper times, offer the proper prayers in the proper situations, and give their tithe (on the net or on the gross, as they saw fit.)
These religious leaders knew what they had to do in order to be good enough to get into heaven. It was what set them apart as righteous. As long as they kept the Law and followed the rules, they had it made. And they knew that Jesus disagreed with them at every turn. Since they were so confident of their own understanding of faith, they labeled Jesus a heretic and a threat to orthodox faith. The punishment for this crime was death. And they put a stop to this man who taught such radical, but popular, ideas. They had him crucified under Roman authority. And they never even realized that Jesus was on that cross for them, dying for their sins, because it never would have occurred to them that they were sinners in need of salvation. After all, they were doing what they had to do to be good enough to get into heaven on their own.
There are still people out there like these religious leaders. Some of them are ultra-conservative Christians, people who live by the Bible, convinced that every letter on every page is the literal Word of God as dictated to his chosen scribes. They give their tithe (on the net or on the gross, as they are so moved); they attend the important church ceremonies and celebrations; they keep a mental checklist of do’s and don’ts, like a scorecard in the ultimate game.
Others in this group choose to view all matters of faith through the lenses of specific causes or theological constructions on social issues. There are those who would use a person’s stand on the issue of abortion as the litmus test of faith. Others, just as vehement, would measure righteousness on a woman’s right to choose. Some are ardent ecological warriors, while others argue that global warming is a myth. Some are vocal supporters of equal marriage for gays, and others are equally vocal opponents. But I can tell you this: no matter what your yardstick is designed to measure, righteousness is not based on points or grades or finishing all the tasks on the list. You can’t get good enough to get into heaven by measuring yourself against any specific list of standards, any more than those ardent, misguided keepers of the faith who congregated under the cross of Jesus could.
The second group of people there on Good Friday were the Roman soldiers who were assigned the gruesome task of carrying out the death penalty. These soldiers didn’t even think in terms of righteousness or unrighteousness. Their only god was Caesar, and they worshiped him by winning battles and keeping peace in the Empire. They didn’t have to be good; they were powerful. They assumed that if they had been given victory and glory and most of the known world at the time, then it was a sign that the gods had smiled on them with favor and approval. To them, might made right. And they had the weapons to prove it. Who needed a king, much less a king of this small population of Jews, stirring up rebellion? They had already finished off any number of would-be Messiahs in this God-forsaken land of people who were clearly under the thumb of Roman rule, but who stubbornly held on to their belief that God would rescue them and restore to them their freedom. What was one more?
There are also plenty of people out there today who believe that might makes right, that their power is proof of divine approval. This is true on a personal level. We all know people who are convinced that they are perfect, and they are in positions of authority that allow them to feed this delusion. We run into it every day. The office manager who keeps a tight rein on his personnel because they are all well aware that he could fire them at the least transgression. The person on the other end of the phone line who has you at her mercy, reciting the irrefutable litany, “Our computer says …”
There are even people like that in positions of authority in the church. I’ve heard of situations where nothing ever got done without the stamp of approval from a domineering church member, whether or not that person served on the church board. I’ve heard of situations as well where pastors were constantly walking on eggshells, afraid to provoke the matriarch or patriarch of a church and be forced to leave. On the other hand, I’ve also heard of pastors who thrive on what they see as a power position over their congregations, ram-rodding their agendas through, no matter what. People like this never even ask the question, “Do you think I’ve been good enough to get into heaven,” because they simply assume that they are going to get in because of their power and authority, which prove their goodness.
There were other people at Calvary that day. There were the two criminals who were crucified alongside Jesus. One of them apparently took up the mocking and taunting of Jesus by the religious leaders and soldiers. After all, he could have been a mean-spirited person himself, someone who took pleasure in another person’s suffering, and, in a perverse way, to particularly enjoy the suffering of a good person. It has a way of leveling the playing field. One of the oldest tricks in the book is to make yourself look better by making the other guy look worse. And so, he joined in. Scripture says that he “hurled insults” at Jesus. Have you ever felt assaulted with words? It isn’t true that words can never hurt us; sometimes words hurt us more than anything else could.
There are still people like that, too. They take great delight in pointing out the hypocritical behavior of people who call themselves Christian. “Look at Joe Blow over there. He says he is a Christian, but he cusses and drinks the same as I do. What difference does it make if I’m in church or not?” There are always people we can point our fingers at to make ourselves look better. But it does not really change the state of our own character. We cannot convince anyone else, much less God, that we are good enough to get into heaven by showing how much worse other people are than we are.
But the second thief wasn’t like that. He saw no need to harass Jesus or join in the taunting and mocking and laughing. He knew a bad man when he saw one, and Jesus just didn’t fit the pattern. This man Jesus was clearly a victim, not a criminal. He was being put to death for no good reason. He was innocent. This thief had done wrong and he knew it. The punishment was horrible beyond words, but at least he knew he deserved it. But Jesus did not deserve it. And so, this thief rebuked his partner in crime, and then turned to Jesus and said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”
At that moment, all the noise going on beneath them seemed to stop. There was a kind of holy hush between this thief and Jesus, which blocked out everything else. Jesus looked at this man, the only one to express any faith in Jesus that day, the only one who had an inkling of an understanding about who Jesus was and what he was doing. And Jesus said, “I tell you the truth. Today you will be with me in Paradise.”
Jesus turned the world upside down with thirteen words. It wasn’t a matter of who was good enough to get into heaven. It was a matter of who was humble enough, who was most aware of his own unworthiness, who knew he needed something from outside himself to bring him peace. This man wasn’t good enough; he could never become good enough. But he didn’t have to. Because Jesus was good enough to get us all into heaven.
That is the real message of the cross to me. We can’t be good enough. No one can. That is the result of human sin. We don’t deserve to live; we deserve to die. But heaven isn’t about who deserves to be there. It is about the free gift of grace that was given to us at the cost of God’s own Son. It is in our realization that we are not good enough that we begin to make room to receive Christ into our hearts and lives. We need Jesus. We need what only Jesus can offer. We can only find what we need when we acknowledge that we have a need.
Pastor Edward F. Markquart at the Grace Lutheran Church in Seattle offended a lot of people when he said that Mother Teresa doesn’t deserve to go to heaven. He said,
Of all the Christians in the world, Mother Teresa must rank near the top. She must have the longest list of good works behind her name. She must have the largest number of good deeds. Within the grade book of heaven, she has more gold stars behind her name than any other name. Yet she, too, was given eternal life and salvation. She didn’t earn it. She doesn’t deserve it. Mother Teresa doesn’t deserve eternal life. The Bible is clear: all people have sinned. All people have fallen short of the glory of God. No one is saved by their good works … We are saved by grace, through faith in Jesus Christ … Salvation is a gift for people who do not earn it; who do not deserve it … Mother Teresa, when she was asked about her life, said, ‘I am unworthy. I am unworthy. I am unworthy that God chose me to live with the poor. How unworthy am I that God chose to give me eternal life. I am not worthy.’ Mother Teresa knew that she had been saved by grace. It was a gift of God to her. She received it humbly.
“Do you think I’ve been good enough to get into heaven?” The only answer to the question is, “No.” But the rest of the answer is, “It’s not about being good enough. It’s about being humble enough, contrite enough, and honest enough to admit that we’ll never be good enough. But Jesus is good enough. And Jesus has given us heaven as an act of grace.” I believe that the day will come when those who believe and who receive that grace will hear Jesus say to them, “Today you will be with me in Paradise.”
