Homily Preached by The Reverend Eric L. Bergman
For the Funeral of his Grandfather,
Allen Erick Bergman,
at Holy Cross Catholic Church,
Champaign, Illinois,
Monday, March 30, 2009
Text: Luke: 23:39-43
St. Augustine once said, “Do not presume, one thief was lost. Do not despair, one thief was spared.” He was referring, of course to the Gospel that we just heard wherein one of the criminals crucified next to Jesus reviles our Lord and the second comes to His defense. The thief who was lost desired not to take responsibility for the things he had done and also desired that there be not consequences for his wicked deeds, but the thief that was spared did precisely the opposite. He confessed his sins before the Lord and immediately received the promise of everlasting life.
This afternoon, at this funeral where we pray for the repose of Grandpa’s soul, I would like to point to three lessons we can take from this incredible episode in the Passion of Jesus.
First, and perhaps most obviously, we learn in Jesus’ promise to the dying criminal that it is never too late, so long as we live, to repent and be spared the fires of hell. The man who confessed his guilt before Jesus was literally in the last hours of his adult life when he appealed to Jesus for mercy. In this man is the original deathbed conversion, though it would be more aptly described as a death-cross conversion. Whatever the case, as this sinner drew closer to the judgment he knew he would face, he pleaded that Jesus would remember him when He came into His kingdom.
It is tempting for us when we contemplate the life of someone whose sins are notorious to condemn such people to eternal punishment. And whose sins are more notorious than a man being executed for his crimes? Yet, if we fall prey to this temptation, we pretend to know the heart of a sinner, pretend to have access to knowledge that only God possesses. We also imagine that there are limits to God’s mercy and that the sins of one’s past life can somehow inhibit God’s ability and desire to forgive the sinner who repents. And if we limit God’s mercy, we limit also His love, a love that if limited we may find does not encompass us. Rather than presume to know the fate of each sinner, today’s Gospel teaches us instead to recall that mercy is possible and may yet be granted to those who waited longer to repent than we did. If we hope for anything less, we lack the charity of Jesus, who saw fit to forgive this notorious sinner in the last moments of his life.
The second lesson from today’s Gospel that I would like to emphasize is what we learn about how we commend ourselves to Jesus. The first criminal is an example of how we DO NOT commend ourselves, as he implies that Jesus is somehow partially responsible for the punishment he is receiving for his misdeeds. Rather than accuse himself, the first criminal accuses Jesus and tells Him, “If you really were the Messiah, you would get me down off this cross and let me get away with what I have done.” He has no concern at all for the pain that Jesus is experiencing, and sees our Lord not as his potential savior, but as his possible meal ticket—he will give him what he needs right now, but the possibility of eternal redemption is the farthest thing from his mind.
The second criminal teaches us how rightly to commend ourselves to Jesus. He does this first by confessing the innocence of Jesus, then admitting his own guilt, and finally by asking for mercy. Whereas the first criminal is arrogant, the second is humble, seeing in the love of Jesus the way he has failed to love. And rather than justifying himself for these failings, he appeals directly to the Lord not for the remission of punishment, but for the remission of damnation. He essentially asks if it is possible that God still loves him, despite all his sin. He is met with a resounding “Yes” from Him who desires not that sinners should die, but that they turn from their wickedness and live. Such humble supplication is what commends the second criminal to Jesus because it is accomplished by a contrite heart—Indeed, he says, “We have been condemned justly.” As we consider whether God’s mercy is present for one who has died, we must pray that he confessed the innocence of Jesus, that he was sorry for his sins, and that he pleaded with our Lord for mercy.
The fact that the criminal received mercy at the end of his life indicates to us the third lesson, with which I will conclude. We know nothing of this criminal other than what the Gospels tell us, and St. Luke, of all four evangelists, gives us the most information. We do not know how old he was, where he was from, what his name was, or even precisely what he did to be sentenced to death by crucifixion. But St. Luke tells us the most important thing about him: though he was guilty, because of our Lord’s boundless love for those He has created, Jesus loved him enough to die for him and grant him the mercy he did not deserve. This man’s legacy, in other words, is not the thing he did wrong. His legacy is not the sins he committed. For countless millions, even billions, to whom this story has been related throughout the ages, this man’s legacy is the hope he has inspired by his single appeal for mercy and the welcome and gracious response he received from our Lord. His legacy is our appreciation that God’s mercy is present even in the lives of those who spend much of their time denying the mercy of God.
I cannot stand before you and say with any integrity that Grandpa was perfect. All of us have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. But what I can say with the utmost confidence and assurance is that God’s mercy was present in his life. Despite his imperfections, the Lord saw fit to give him six sons, nine grandchildren, and twenty-seven great-grandchildren. And, I am certain that, because God’s mercy lives, there will be more great-grandchildren to come. His legacy will continue. Because he lived, because God’s mercy lived in this vessel of clay, each of us, his family, has been given the opportunity to experience the love of Jesus and to make our own appeal to Him for His mercy. Each of us now has occasion to be viewed by others with the eyes of Jesus—not for the sins of our youth, of which there have been many, but for how God’s mercy present in our lives affects the lives of others now and of those still to come. May God’s mercy, present in us, redound to the glory of God and ensure that Grandpa’s legacy is like that of this penitent thief—remembered not for what he did wrong, but for what, in the end, by God’s grace, he finally did right.