A Cross for a Throne
Gospel: Luke 23:35-43

Fr. Jijo Kandamkulathy CMF
Claretian Missionaries

The Israelites longed for a king who would be great, rich, strong, and eternal, one who would defeat their enemies and establish glory for Israel. Yet on Calvary, God’s response to those expectations is revealed in a way that unsettles us. Above Jesus hangs the inscription: “This is the King of the Jews.” But there is no throne, only a cross; no servants, only mockers; no royal garments, only nakedness. What a strange kingship this is, so utterly different from what people imagined. Even today, many Christians still harbor hopes like the Jews, identifying Christ’s kingdom with victories and triumphs. Yet here stands a defeated king, whose cross destroys all our projects of glory.

On either side of Jesus hang two thieves. One cries out for escape from his pain, hoping the Messiah will free him from torture. Jesus does not grant his request, showing himself unwilling to be the kind of savior who offers shortcuts or miraculous rescues. The other thief, however, whispers a different prayer: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” The thief calls him by name not as a distant ruler but as a companion, a friend who shares the fate of the guilty though innocent himself. He does not ask for deliverance, only for presence. And Jesus answers with a promise: “Today you will be with me in paradise.” This is judgment, not condemnation but mercy, like the scene in Matthew 25 where the King separates hearts—not by power, but by recognition. One thief fails to see; the other sees and trusts.

The story of these criminals is our own. Who among us has not wounded a brother with slander, hatred, or injustice? Who has not caused small or great disasters in family, society, or even the Church? Yet the promise remains: trust in the mercy of this King. His kingdom is not built on our perfection, but on his forgiveness. Many still think the kingship of Jesus was hidden on Calvary, that the real glory will only come at the end of time with armies of angels. They are grossly mistaken. Before he died, Jesus absolved his executioners as a king. He forgave them in the very moment of his greatest glory—the cross. The verdict he gave from the cross is final. The trial will not be reopened. His judgment stands. This is the face of God revealed: love that forgives without condition.

This King disturbs us because he reigns not by humiliating enemies but by asking us to forgive those who harm us. He wins in the moment he loses. He conquers by surrender. The final judgment, then, is not a terror to fear but a joy to await. When our blindness is healed, when our hearts are stripped of pettiness and resentment, we will see him as he truly is. And then, like the thief, we too will hear: “Today you will be with me in paradise.”

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Cum Approbatione Ecclesiastica 2025