Christ the King Sunday
November 23, 2025
Luke 23:33-43

It is, quite literally, the oldest story in the book. Adam and Eve are created by the Lord God, and they live in perfect peace and abundance in the Garden of Eden. Without need of work, without conflict, without fear, without shame; it was Paradise. Until it all went terribly wrong. Succumbing to temptation, Adam and Eve do the one thing God told them not to do; they eat of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. And everything falls apart. Suddenly, they realize that they are naked; and they are ashamed. Where once they had been completely vulnerable to one another, they have now sewn fig leaves to cover themselves. They hide from God, they try to run away from God’s presence. When God does find them, the man blames the woman, and the woman blames the snake. And so Adam and Eve are forced out of the garden, into what we now know as the human condition; a world of work, a world of conflict, of fear, of shame. We Christians refer to this as “The Fall.” Adam and Eve lost their Paradise (Genesis 2 and 3).

And so have we. We have never known that Paradise. What we know is that world that Adam and Eve were sent into. That world of work and conflict and shame. Their story is our story. We don’t do what God tells to do, we blame each other for our sins, and we are bound to a life of work and conflict. You don’t need me to tell you that life is not Paradise.

And yet it’s that world, it’s that world that Jesus is born into. Jesus is not born into Paradise; we know that Jesus, like us, felt the joy and hardships of human life. And with that, Jesus experiences the fullness of human depravity – death, and death upon a cross. A humiliating, shameful manner of death. But hear me out. I think, I think that this passage is a reversal of the story of Adam and Eve. The crucifixion of Jesus, and the conversation that Jesus has with the criminal who repents, as we hear it from the Gospel of Luke, is a reworking, and an undoing of The Fall. Let’s walk through this.

In Eden, Adam and Eve put on clothes to cover themselves from God and from each other.

At the cross, Jesus and the criminal are stripped. They have nothing left to hide. 

After Adam and Eve eat of the fruit of that tree, they run away, ashamed and embarrassed. 

Jesus and the criminal are nailed there, to a different kind of tree. There is no getting away.

In Eden, after they eat of the fruit of the tree, there is all sorts of finger pointing and blaming. No one wants to take responsibility; no one wants to say anything was their fault.

At the cross, the one criminal acknowledges his own guilt. 

And finally, in Eden, Adam and Eve run from God. And God sends them away. They lose their Paradise. They are apart from God.

But at the cross, that one criminal pleads for mercy. “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom” (Luke 23:42). Even there, with all the blood and brutality of the cross, Jesus undoes the evil that befell humanity at Eden. With those words of sheer grace and mercy, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise” (Luke 23:43). Not only in Paradise, but with Jesus, not apart but near to God. I hope you see it, as I do.

The cross, and this whole glorious scene, is the reworking and reversing of what happened before. Paradise is gained and the Lord is near. 

And so what does this mean for you? For us, who though we see the promise of Paradise, know full well that we are still very much in that other world. As strange as it may sound, it means that the example of discipleship, is that of the penitent criminal on the other cross. Think of it – what he does is precisely what we know we must do. To confess our sins, things done and left undone, and acknowledge them with sincerity. No blaming, no sidestepping, no hemming and hawing. To pronounce our own guilt. It means we cling to God, not to run away but to draw near, even when it is hard and scary and when the other voices are telling us to run away. It means that we are to present ourselves to the Lord God Almighty – completely open, completely vulnerable, not hiding a thing. That’s, to me, what I think a disciple ought to look like; like a penitent criminal on a cross. 

It’s funny, maybe in a dark sort of way, that the criminal who repents is the model for discipleship. Thought he doesn’t fit the mold of what we believe a modern disciple ought to be. But think of it – that man never read the Bible. He never went to Church. He wasn’t baptized. He had never taken Communion. He didn’t give any money. Scandalous of all, he had never prayed with a Book of Common Prayer! And yet, he is the first one who is invited by Jesus back into the Paradise of God. It only goes to show that salvation, the healing of our souls, is a sheer and perfect gift of God. Unearned, unmerited. Don’t let anyone ever tell you have to do x, y, or z to get into the Paradise of God. Don’t let anyone ever tell you that the Paradise of God is only for perfect people. Clearly, that’s not the story. What God desires, it seems, is a penitent heart, and people who draw near. So, all those things – reading the Bible, going to church, getting baptized, receiving communion, giving money – those are all sacred, but only if done with the right intention. Of giving yourself completely to God. As a method and a process of following Jesus with all our heart and soul. 

And that’s the beauty of it all. “Today, you will be with me in Paradise.” Perhaps the most beautiful words in all of scripture. Given to a criminal, as he’s dying naked, and alone, and empty on the cross. And if those words could be for him, then surely they are for you, and for me. We are no longer bound to Adam and Eve, apart from God, away from Eden; we are bound to Christ, filled with the Holy Spirit, in the Paradise of God. If humanity fell away at Eden, we were raised up again on the cross, with Christ.

We are now entering into one of the most sacred times of the Church year, as we prepare ourselves for the coming of Christ. The season of Advent. I ask that you take this time to pray, to confess, to draw near to God. Not hiding a thing, standing there at the cross with Jesus. Standing here still in this world of grief, but looking ahead to the Paradise of God, of being with Jesus. Giving thanks that things are being redone, and reworked, to the glory of God and for the salvation of our souls.

Because, I cannot help but notice that the penitent criminal’s last words were a prayer. “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” I pray that I would have the same spiritual maturity. Take the time now, while you can, while you still have that spiritual capacity to consider your final words, your final prayer. With your mortal breath, as you are there at the foot of the cross, what is that one last thing you want to say to God? 

And then, don’t wait for your last breath to say it. Offer that prayer, that most heartfelt, real, honest, prayer every day all day. Don’t hide from God, don’t wait to come to the cross, God’s love is there, waiting for you. For it might just be, that today you will be with Jesus in Paradise.