The Encouragement You Might Need to Keep Praying

(Luke 23:32-43 MSG)

Easter has passed, but the plea of one of the thieves crucified next to Jesus has not.

At least not for me.

At first it bothers me that only one of the gospels records this conversation.

Until I consider the gospel writer’s identity. 

Luke, the self-proclaimed careful investigator of already written accounts and reports of eyewitnesses. (Luke1:1-4) 

Due to the personal nature and detailed account of the birth of Jesus in his gospel, many believe Luke may have interviewed Mary herself.

Unprovable, but plausible.

She was there at the beginning.

And the end.

Where she stands near three crosses. 

Near enough to be that eye witness Luke interviewed.

Jesus hangs in the middle.

A thief on either side.

Beneath the dull roar of the crowd she hears what must certainly take her by surprise.

The plea of one thief.

“Jesus, remember me when you enter your kingdom.” 

Mimnéskó me.

Mimnéskó stretches far beyond momentary thought or casual acknowledgment.

It is active, perpetual, complete remembrance. 

Echoing a long understood tradition that to be remembered by God is to be rescued.

Perhaps Mary thinks he has a lot of nerve, but I doubt it.

For she’s been witnessing, firsthand, Jesus’ mimnéskó for the world.

One person at a time.

I love watching the scene unfold through her eyes.

We feel the intensity of her love for Jesus.

And the intensity of His love for everyone He encounters.

Leaning forward, Mary strains to hear her son’s response.

To this one who’s recognized the Son of God in his midst.

His Rescuer.

Meeting him where he is.

I picture our Lord’s tender gaze coming to rest on his mom.

One last opportunity to demonstrate to her who He is and what He came to do.

Turning then to the thief, He says, “I thought you’d never ask!”

Not really.

Instead He promises,

“Today you will be with Me in paradise.”

Mary stands transfixed.

Her mother’s heart breaks every which way.

Her son’s suffering is a mirror of her own.

His commitment to fulfilling God’s purposes to the end, achingly bittersweet.

Until the spell is broken.

When her gaze travels to the other thief.

The one still scoffing.

“Some Messiah you are!”

Just when she thinks her heart is out of ways to break, it defies her.

And breaks again.

For the one who doesn’t recognize the Son of God in his midst.

The one who’s decided he doesn’t want or need rescue.

Perhaps this is Jesus’ last parable.

A final illustration of a spiritual truth.

The picture of a Rescuer.

Meeting two He’s come to rescue.

Right where they are.

One sees Him.

Recognizes Him.

And starts a conversation.

The other isn’t even looking.

Along with Mary, my heart breaks.

Because I know that person.

Rather someone like him.

Someone on my prayer list who isn’t looking.

Who doesn’t want or feel the need of rescue.

I suspect you have your own “someone.”

Sometimes it feels like prayers for our “someones” are going unanswered.

But reconsider that first thief.

Matthew’s gospel notes that at one point he, too, is scoffing.

Until he isn’t.

Which feels like encouragement to continue praying for our “someones” to desire rescue, recognize You in their midst, and start a conversation . . . 

See you in a couple weeks.

Love,