The Center of All Things: The Public Spectacle of the Cross Text: Luke 23:33-49
Introduction: The Inescapable Cross
We have come to the center of human history. All the lines of the Old Testament converge on this one, bloody hill. All the subsequent history of the world flows down from it. The cross of Jesus Christ is not a sentimental story, a religious icon, or a piece of jewelry. It is the hinge of the cosmos, the place where the justice and mercy of God met with a world-shattering kiss. It is the place of execution for the old humanity and the birthplace of the new.
Our modern world, in its frantic pursuit of self-esteem and personal autonomy, wants a Christianity without a cross. It wants a crown without a crucifixion, a resurrection without a death, a savior without a sacrifice. But this is to want a different god, a different gospel. The cross is an offense. It was an offense to the Jews who wanted a conquering king, and it was an offense to the Greeks who wanted a respectable philosophy. And it remains an offense today to every proud sinner who believes he can save himself or that his sins are not really all that bad. The cross tells us that our sin is so grotesque that it required the death of the Son of God to deal with it. It tells us we are utterly helpless, bankrupt, and deserving of wrath. That is not a message that tickles the ears.
But for those who have been given eyes to see, the cross is not an offense but the very power and wisdom of God. It is the place where God’s holy hatred of sin and His unfathomable love for sinners are both put on display in the most extreme way imaginable. It is a public spectacle, as Luke is careful to show us. It was not done in a corner. It was done at "The Skull," in broad daylight, before rulers, soldiers, crowds, and criminals. God was putting sin on trial and executing it in the person of His Son, and He did it for all the world to see. This was not a tragedy; it was a triumph. It was not a defeat; it was the decisive victory.
As we walk through this text, we must see more than just a historical event. We must see the very heart of God, the definition of true forgiveness, the nature of genuine faith, and the cosmic consequences of this one death. This is not a scene to be observed from a safe distance. We are all implicated here. We are the crowd, we are the mockers, and by the grace of God, we can be the penitent thief and the confessing centurion.
The Text
And when they came to the place called The Skull, there they crucified Him and the criminals, one on the right and the other on the left. But Jesus was saying, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” AND THEY CAST LOTS, DIVIDING UP HIS GARMENTS AMONG THEMSELVES. And the people stood by, looking on. And even the rulers were scoffing at Him, saying, “He saved others; let Him save Himself if this is the Christ of God, His Chosen One.” And the soldiers also mocked Him, coming up to Him, offering Him sour wine, and saying, “If You are the King of the Jews, save Yourself!” Now there was also an inscription above Him, “THIS IS THE KING OF THE JEWS.”
And one of the criminals hanging there was blaspheming Him, saying, “Are You not the Christ? Save Yourself and us!” But the other answered, and rebuking him said, “Do you not even fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed are suffering justly, for we are receiving what we deserve for what we have done; but this man has done nothing wrong.” And he was saying, “Jesus, remember me when You come in Your kingdom!” And He said to him, “Truly I say to you, today you shall be with Me in Paradise.”
And it was now about the sixth hour, and darkness fell over the whole land until the ninth hour, because the sun was obscured. And the veil of the sanctuary was torn in two. And Jesus, crying out with a loud voice, said, “Father, INTO YOUR HANDS I COMMIT MY SPIRIT.” Having said this, He breathed His last. Now when the centurion saw what had happened, he began praising God, saying, “Certainly this man was righteous.” And all the crowds who came together for this spectacle, when they observed what had happened, were returning, beating their chests. And all His acquaintances and the women who accompanied Him from Galilee were standing at a distance, watching these things.
(Luke 23:33-49 LSB)
The Spectacle of Mockery and Forgiveness (vv. 33-38)
We begin at the place of execution, where the central act is framed by mockery and a stunning prayer.
"And when they came to the place called The Skull, there they crucified Him and the criminals, one on the right and the other on the left. But Jesus was saying, 'Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.'" (Luke 23:33-34a)
He is crucified between two criminals, fulfilling the prophecy of Isaiah that He would be "numbered with the transgressors" (Isaiah 53:12). This is the great substitution. The only innocent man in the history of the world takes the place of the guilty. He is positioned in the center, as the chief sinner, flanked by two lesser sinners. This is a perfect picture of the gospel. Christ stands in the place of lawbreakers so that lawbreakers might stand in His place.
And in the midst of this agony, His first recorded word from the cross is a prayer of intercession for His own murderers. "Father, forgive them." This is not a weak, sentimental platitude. This is the High Priest beginning His great work of atonement. He is not excusing their sin; He is praying for its forgiveness, which He Himself is about to purchase with His own blood. When He says, "they do not know what they are doing," He is not saying their ignorance removes their guilt. Pilate knew He was innocent. The rulers knew He threatened their power. Their ignorance was a willful, culpable ignorance. They did not understand the full cosmic significance of their act, that they were crucifying the Lord of Glory. Had they known, Paul says, they would not have done it (1 Cor. 2:8). But their ignorance does not make them innocent. Rather, Christ’s prayer is the basis upon which their sin, and ours, can be forgiven. He is praying for the very people who are killing Him, demonstrating that the forgiveness He offers is not for those who deserve it, but for those who desperately need it.
The mockery then begins in earnest, coming from every quarter. The people watch, the rulers scoff, and the soldiers mock. Notice the central theme of their taunts: "Save Yourself!" (vv. 35, 37, 39). This is the central temptation of the devil, going all the way back to the wilderness. "If you are the Son of God..." The irony is thick enough to cut with a knife. The very reason He cannot save Himself is because He is saving others. If He had come down from that cross, He would have saved Himself, but He would have damned us all. His refusal to save Himself is the very proof that He is the Christ, the Chosen One, the King. His power is perfected in weakness. His glory is revealed in shame. His kingship is established through execution.
Two Responses, Two Destinies (vv. 39-43)
The two criminals crucified with Jesus represent the whole of humanity in its response to the cross.
"And one of the criminals hanging there was blaspheming Him, saying, 'Are You not the Christ? Save Yourself and us!' But the other answered, and rebuking him said, 'Do you not even fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed are suffering justly... but this man has done nothing wrong.' And he was saying, 'Jesus, remember me when You come in Your kingdom!'" (Luke 23:39-42 LSB)
The first criminal joins the chorus of mockers. His is a religion of utility. He wants a Christ who can get him out of his immediate trouble. "Save Yourself and us!" This is the cry of the natural man. He doesn't want a savior from sin; he wants a savior from consequences. He doesn't want forgiveness; he wants relief. He sees Jesus as a potential means to an end, and when that fails, he resorts to blasphemy.
But the second criminal undergoes a stunning, last-minute conversion. His repentance has three essential marks. First, he fears God. "Do you not even fear God...?" He recognizes that even in the face of death, he is accountable to a higher authority. Second, he acknowledges his own guilt. "we indeed are suffering justly, for we are receiving what we deserve." There are no excuses, no blame-shifting. This is true confession. He owns his sin. Third, he proclaims Christ's innocence. "this man has done nothing wrong." He sees Jesus not as a fellow criminal, but as the righteous one.
From this foundation of true repentance, he makes his plea of faith: "Jesus, remember me when You come in Your kingdom!" This is an astounding statement. Everyone else sees a failed, dying revolutionary. This thief, with the eyes of faith, sees a King about to enter His kingdom. He doesn't ask to be taken down from the cross. He asks to be remembered in the kingdom to come. He understands that the real issue is not his temporal suffering, but his eternal destiny.
And Jesus's response is one of the most glorious promises in all of Scripture: "Truly I say to you, today you shall be with Me in Paradise." (v. 43). This thief did nothing to earn this. He had no time for baptism, for church membership, for a life of good works. His salvation was based entirely on the sovereign grace of God, received through faith alone, at the very last moment. This is a deathblow to all forms of self-righteousness. If this man can be saved, then no one is beyond the reach of God's grace. And notice the immediacy: "today." There is no soul sleep, no purgatory. To be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.
The Cosmic Signs of Victory (vv. 44-46)
As Christ's life ebbs away, the cosmos itself bears witness to the significance of the event.
"And it was now about the sixth hour, and darkness fell over the whole land until the ninth hour, because the sun was obscured. And the veil of the sanctuary was torn in two. And Jesus, crying out with a loud voice, said, 'Father, INTO YOUR HANDS I COMMIT MY SPIRIT.' Having said this, He breathed His last." (Luke 23:44-46 LSB)
From noon until three in the afternoon, a supernatural darkness covers the land. This is not a solar eclipse. This is the judgment of God. Darkness in the Bible is a symbol of judgment and wrath (Amos 8:9). As Jesus bore the full, undiluted wrath of God for the sins of His people, the Father turned His face away. The light of the world was being extinguished, and creation itself went into mourning. This was the hour of the power of darkness, and yet, in this very moment, Christ was disarming the principalities and powers, triumphing over them in it (Col. 2:15).
At the moment of His death, the great veil in the Temple, the massive curtain that separated the Holy Place from the Most Holy Place, was torn in two, from top to bottom. This was a divine act. No man could have torn that curtain. Its tearing signified that the way into the very presence of God was now thrown open. The old system of sacrifices and priests was now obsolete. Through the torn flesh of Jesus Christ, a new and living way has been opened for all who come by faith (Heb. 10:19-20). The separation between God and man, caused by sin, has been removed by the blood of the cross.
His final words are not a cry of defeat, but of trust and completion. "Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit." Quoting from Psalm 31, He shows His conscious, voluntary control over His own death. He did not die as a victim, but as a victor. His life was not taken from Him; He laid it down of His own accord (John 10:18). He had finished the work the Father had given Him to do. The atonement was accomplished. The debt was paid in full.
The Aftermath: Confession and Repentance (vv. 47-49)
The immediate effects of Christ's death are seen in the reactions of those who witnessed it.
"Now when the centurion saw what had happened, he began praising God, saying, 'Certainly this man was righteous.' And all the crowds who came together for this spectacle, when they observed what had happened, were returning, beating their chests." (Luke 23:47-48 LSB)
The first confession comes from a pagan, a Roman centurion. This man, a hardened professional in the business of death, is so moved by the manner of Christ’s dying that he praises God and declares Him righteous. The first fruit of the cross is the conversion of a Gentile. This is a foretaste of the gospel going to the ends of the earth. The power of the cross is sufficient to break the hardest of hearts.
The crowd, which had come for the entertainment of a public execution, returns home changed. They came to watch a spectacle, but they left beating their chests, a sign of profound grief and repentance. The cross has a way of turning spectators into participants. It confronts us and demands a response. For these people, the mockery has died on their lips, replaced by a dawning horror at what they have done. This is the beginning of the conviction that would lead thousands to cry out on the day of Pentecost, "What shall we do?"
The cross is the great divide. It separates all of humanity into two camps. There are those who, like the first thief and the mockers, see it as foolishness and an offense. They want a Christ who will serve their purposes, and when He doesn't, they reject Him. And there are those who, like the second thief and the centurion, see in the cross the righteousness of God and the only hope for their sin. They come with nothing in their hands, acknowledging their guilt, and cast themselves entirely upon the mercy of the King who died for them. There is no third way.