Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Seven Last Words of Christ #2

Seven Last Words of Christ
Lenten Meditation
March 4, 2009

Second word
Luke 23.43, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

Paradise. Let’s assume for a moment that it’s not Cancun. What has Jesus promised us?

For the first eight centuries of Christianity, Paradise referred to an earthly garden of delights that Adam and Eve lived in for a time. Even into the 16th and 17th centuries, explorers sought to discover the exact location of Eden on the map, God’s walled garden guarded by the angel with the flaming sword. Paradise comes to us from the Greek word paradeizos that translated the Hebrew word pardes that came from the Old Persian apiri-daeza, meaning a walled-in garden. Ezekiel speaks of this garden covered in precious stones (Ez. 28.12-14) on the holy mountain of God. Isaiah sings of God who makes Zion’s desert like a garden, filled with joy, gladness and thanksgiving (Is. 51.3). Much later in Revelation, the heavenly city of the New Jerusalem descending from heaven is described as a new Eden, with precious stones and constant water and abundant food.

Jesus’ promise to the thief comes in response to his plea, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” The thief is no follower of Jesus, has not to our knowledge been baptized or confessed his faith. He hasn’t lived according to the commandments. Why should Jesus remember him? I believe this is what the thief hears: you, who are dying with me, for no reason except that you have asked, will be with me in the primordial garden, the birthplace of humanity, a place of abundance and renewal. Nothing, neither death nor life, nor confession of faith nor lack of it, no, nor anything in all creation will separate you from God’s eternal love made known in Jesus Christ. And the best way to describe the pure abundance of that love is the garden of Paradise.

Plea, promise, and presence are what matter here. The details of such paradise—precious stones, garden walls—are not in the end significant. I don’t need to know if paradise means heaven, with streets of gold and Frank Capra’s angels second-class trying to earn their wings. I don’t need to give the after-life any real thought or speculation. I certainly don’t need to orient my life around the question of whether I’ll be seated in smoking or non-smoking. These issues don’t motivate Jesus during his ministry. They don’t matter to Jesus on the cross.

What matters on the cross, in the midst of suffering and death, is that the kingdom of heaven is at hand. What matters is the holy assurance that then and there, when life is at its worst, and the veil between life and death is stretched thin enough to breathe through, we will be with God and God will be with us, and we who suffer together and live together and even die together will not be cast away but will be together, in some way that transcends time and space. The key word in the end is not Paradise. Paradise can lead us to distraction. The most important words he speaks are, “you will be with me.”