The Believing Thief

The Believing Thief

A Sermon

(No. 2078)

Delivered on Lord's-day Morning, April 7th, 1889,

C. H. SPURGEON,

At [3]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington

"And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy
kingdom. And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, To day shalt
thou be with me in paradise."'Luke 23:42-43.

SOME TIME AGO I preached upon the whole story of the dying thief. I do
not propose to do the same to-day, but only to look at it from one
particular point of view. The story of the salvation of the dying thief
is a standing instance of the power of Christ to save, and of his
abundant willingness to receive all that come to him, in whatever
plight they may be. I cannot regard this act of grace as a solitary
instance, any more than the salvation of Zacchaeus, the restoration of
Peter, or the call of Saul, the persecutor. Every conversion is, in a
sense, singular: no two are exactly alike, and yet any one conversion
is a type of others. The case of the dying thief is much more similar
to our conversion than it is dissimilar; in point of fact, his case may
be regarded as typical, rather than as an extraordinary incident. So I
shall use it at this time. May the Holy Spirit speak through it to the
encouragement of those who are ready to despair!

Remember, beloved friends, that our Lord Jesus, at the time he saved
this malefactor, was at his lowest. His glory had been ebbing out in
Gethsemane, and before Caiaphas, and Herod, and Pilate; but it had now
reached the utmost low-water mark. Stripped of his garments, and nailed
to the cross, our Lord was mocked by a ribald crowd, and was dying in
agony: then was he "numbered with the transgressors," and made as the
offscouring of all things. Yet, while in that condition, he achieved
this marvellous deed of grace. Behold the wonder wrought by the Saviour
when emptied of all his glory, and hanged up a spectacle of shame upon
the brink of death! How certain is it it that he can do great wonders
of mercy now, seeing that he has returned unto his glory, and sitteth
upon the throne of light! "He is able to save them to the uttermost
that come unto God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession
for them." If a dying Saviour saved the thief, my argument is, that he
can do even more now that he liveth and reigneth. All power is given
unto him in heaven and in earth; can anything at this present time
surpass the power of his grace?

It is not only the weakness of our Lord which makes the salvation of
the penitent thief memorable; it is the fact that the dying malefactor
saw it before his very eyes. Can you put yourself into his place, and
suppose yourself to be looking upon one who hangs in agony upon a
cross? Could you readily believe him to be the Lord of glory, who would
soon come to his kingdom? That was no mean faith which, at such a
moment, could believe in Jesus as Lord and King. If the apostle Paul
were here, and wanted to add a New Testament chapter to the eleventh of
Hebrews, he might certainly commence his instances of remarkable faith
with this thief, who believed in a crucified, derided, and dying
Christ, and cried to him as to one whose kingdom would surely come. The
thief's faith was the more remarkable because he was himself in great
pain, and bound to die. It is not easy to exercise confidence when you
are tortured with deadly anguish. Our own rest of mind has at times
been greatly hindered by pain of body. When we are the subjects of
acute suffering it is not easy to exhibit that faith which we fancy we
possess at other times. This man, suffering as he did, and seeing the
Saviour in so sad a state, nevertheless believed unto life eternal.
Herein was such faith as is seldom seen.

Recollect, also, that he was surrounded by scoffers. It is easy to swim
with the current, and hard to go against the stream. This man heard the
priests, in their pride, ridicule the Lord, and the great multitude of
the common people, with one consent, joined in the scorning; his
comrade caught the spirit of the hour, and mocked also, and perhaps he
did the same for a while; but through the grace of God he was changed,
and believed in the Lord Jesus in the teeth of all the scorn. His faith
was not affected by his surroundings; but he, dying thief as he was,
made sure his confidence. Like a jutting rock, standing out in the
midst of a torrent, he declared the innocence of the Christ whom others
blasphemed. His faith is worthy of our imitation in its fruits. He had
no member that was free except his tongue, and he used that member
wisely to rebuke his brother malefactor, and defend his Lord. His faith
brought forth a brave testimony and a bold confession. I am not going
to praise the thief, or his faith, but to extol the glory of that grace
divine which gave the thief such faith, and then freely saved him by
its means. I am anxious to show how glorious is the Saviour'that
Saviour to the uttermost, who, at such a time, could save such a man,
and give him so great a faith, and so perfectly and speedily prepare
him for eternal bliss. Behold the power of that divine Spirit who could
produce such faith on soil so unlikely, and in a climate so
unpropitious.

Let us enter at once into the centre of our sermon. First, note the man
who was our Lord's last companion on earth; secondly, note that this
same man was our Lord's first companion at the gate of paradise; and
then, thirdly, let us note the sermon which our Lord preaches to us
from this act of grace. Oh, for a blessing from the Holy Spirit all the
sermon through!

I. Carefully NOTE THAT THE CRUCIFIED THIEF WAS OUR LORD'S LAST
COMPANION ON EARTH. What sorry company our Lord selected when he was
here! He did not consort with the religious Pharisees or the
philosophic Sadducees, but he was known as "the friend of publicans and
sinners." How I rejoice at this! It gives me assurance that he will not
refuse to associate with me. When the Lord Jesus made a friend of me,
he certainly did not make a choice which brought him credit. Do you
think he gained any honour when he made a friend of you? Has he ever
gained anything by us? No, my brethren; if Jesus had not stooped very
low, he would not have come to me; and if he did not seek the most
unworthy, he might not have come to you. You feel it so, and you are
thankful that he came "not to call the righteous, but sinners to
repentance." As the great physician, our Lord was much with the sick:
he went where there was room for him to exercise his healing art. The
whole have no need of a physician: they cannot appreciate him, nor
afford scope for his skill; and therefore he did not frequent their
abodes. Yes, after all, our Lord did make a good choice when he saved
you and me; for in us he has found abundant room for his mercy and
grace. There has been elbow room for his love to work within the awful
emptiness of our necessities and sins; and therein he has done great
things for us, whereof we are glad.

Lest any here should be despairing, and say, "He will never deign to
look on me," I want you to notice that the last companion of Christ on
earth was a sinner, and no ordinary sinner. He had broken even the laws
of man, for he was a robber. One calls him "a brigand"; and I suppose
it is likely to have been the case. The brigands of those days mixed
murder with their robberies: he was probably a freebooter in arms
against the Roman government, making this a pretext for plundering as
he had opportunity. At last he was arrested, and was condemned by a
Roman tribunal, which, on the whole, was usually just, and in this case
was certainly just; for he himself confesses the justice of his
condemnation. The malefactor who believed upon the cross was a convict,
who had lain in the condemned cell, and was then undergoing execution
for his crimes. A convicted felon was the person with whom our Lord
last consorted upon earth. What a lover of the souls of guilty men is
he! What a stoop he makes to the very lowest of mankind! To this most
unworthy of men the Lord of glory, ere he quitted life, spoke with
matchless grace. He spoke to him such wondrous words as never can be
excelled if you search the Scriptures through: "To-day shalt thou be
with me in paradise." I do not suppose that anywhere in this Tabernacle
there will be found a man who has been convicted before the law, or who
is even chargeable with a crime against common honesty; but if there
should be such a person among my hearers, I would invite him to find
pardon and change of heart through our Lord Jesus Christ. You may come
to him, whoever you may be; for this man did. Here is a specimen of one
who had gone to the extreme of guilt, and who acknowledged that he had
done so; he made no excuse, and sought no cloak for his sin; he was in
the hands of justice, confronted with the death-doom, and yet he
believed in Jesus, and breathed a humble prayer to him, and he was
saved upon the spot. As is the sample, such is the bulk. Jesus saves
others of like kind. Let me, therefore, put it very plainly here, that
none may mistake me. None of you are excluded from the infinite mercy
of Christ, however great your iniquity: if you believe in Jesus, he
will save you.

This man was not only a sinner; he was a sinner newly awakened. I do
not suppose that he had seriously thought of the Lord Jesus before.
According to the other Evangelists, he appears to have joined with his
fellow thief in scoffing at Jesus: if he did not actually himself use
opprobrious words, he was so far consenting thereunto, that the
Evangelist did him no injustice when he said, "The thieves also, which
were crucified with him, cast the same in his teeth." Yet, now, on a
sudden, he wakes up to the conviction that the man who is dying at his
side is something more than a man. He reads the title over his head,
and believes it to be true'"This is Jesus the King of the Jews." Thus
believing, he makes his appeal to the Messiah, whom he had so newly
found, and commits himself to his hands. My hearer, do you see this
truth, that the moment a man knows Jesus to be the Christ of God he may
at once put his trust in him and be saved? A certain preacher, whose
gospel was very doubtful, said, "Do you, who have been living in sin
for fifty years, believe that you can in a moment be made clean through
the blood of Jesus?" I answer, "Yes, we do believe that in one moment,
through the precious blood of Jesus, the blackest soul can be made
white. We do believe that in a single instant the sins of sixty or
seventy years can be absolutely forgiven, and that the old nature,
which has gone on growing worse and worse, can receive its death-wound
in a moment of time, while the life eternal may be implanted in the
soul at once." It was so with this man. He had reached the end of his
tether, but all of a sudden he woke up to the assured conviction that
the Messiah was at his side, and, believing, he looked to him and
lived.

So now, my brothers, if you have never in your life before been the
subject of any religious conviction, if you have lived up till now an
utterly ungodly life, yet if now you will believe that God's dear Son
has come into the world to save men from sin, and will unfeignedly
confess your sin and trust in him, you shall be immediately saved. Ay,
while I speak the word, the deed of grace may be accomplished by that
glorious One who has gone up into the heaven with omnipotent power to
save.

I desire to put this case very plainly: this man, who was the last
companion of Christ upon earth, was a sinner in misery. His sins had
found him out: he was now enduring the reward of his deeds. I
constantly meet with persons in this condition: they have lived a life
of wantonness, excess, and carelessness, and they begin to feel the
fire-flakes of the tempest of wrath falling upon their flesh; they
dwell in an earthly hell, a prelude of eternal woe. Remorse, like an
asp, has stung them, and set their blood on fire: they cannot rest,
they are troubled day and night. "Be sure your sin will find you out."
It has found them out, and arrested them, and they feel the strong grip
of conviction. This man was in that horrible condition: what is more,
he was in extremis. He could not live long: the crucifixion was sure to
be fatal; in a short time his legs would be broken, to end his wretched
existence. He, poor soul, had but a short time to live'only the space
between noon and sundown; but it was long enough for the Saviour, who
is mighty to save. Some are very much afraid that people will put off
coming to Christ, if we state this. I cannot help what wicked men do
with truth, but I shall state it all the same. If you are now within an
hour of death, believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be
saved. If you never reach your homes again, but drop dead on the road,
if you will now believe in the Lord Jesus, you shall be saved: saved
now, on the spot. Looking and trusting to Jesus, he will give you a new
heart and a right spirit, and blot out your sins. This is the glory of
Christ's grace. How I wish I could extol it in proper language! He was
last seen on earth before his death in company with a convicted felon,
to whom he spoke most lovingly. Come, O ye guilty, and he will receive
you graciously!

Once more, this man whom Christ saved at last was a man who could do no
good works. If salvation had been by good works, he could not have been
saved; for he was fastened hand and foot to the tree of doom. It was
all over with him as to any act or deed of righteousness. He could say
a good word or two, but that was all; he could perform no acts; and if
his salvation had depended on an active life of usefulness, certainly
he never could have been saved. He was a sinner also, who could not
exhibit a long-enduring repentance for sin, for he had so short a time
to live. He could not have experienced bitter convictions, lasting over
months and years, for his time was measured by moments, and he was on
the borders of the grave. His end was very near, and yet the Saviour
could save him, and did save him so perfectly, that the sun went not
down till he was in paradise with Christ.

This sinner, whom I have painted to you in colours none too black, was
one who believed in Jesus, and confessed his faith. He did trust the
Lord. Jesus was a man, and he called him so; but he knew that he was
also Lord, and he called him so, and said, "Lord, remember me." He had
such confidence in Jesus, that, if he would but only think of him, if
he would only remember him when he came into his kingdom, that would be
all that he would ask of him. Alas, my dear hearers! the trouble about
some of you is that you know all about my Lord, and yet you do not
trust him. Trust is the saving act. Years ago you were on the verge of
really trusting Jesus, but you are just as far off from it now as you
were then. This man did not hesitate: he grasped the one hope for
himself. He did not keep his persuasion of our Lord's Messiahship in
his mind as a dry, dead belief, but he turned it into trust and prayer,
"Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom." Oh, that in his
infinite mercy many of you would trust my Lord this morning! You shall
be saved, I am sure you shall: if you are not saved when you trust, I
must myself also renounce all hope. This is all that we have done: we
looked, and we lived, and we continue to live because we look to the
living Saviour. Oh, that this morning, feeling your sin, you would look
to Jesus, trusting him, and confessing that trust! Owning that he is
Lord to the glory of God the Father, you must and shall be saved.

In consequence of having this faith which saved him, this poor man
breathed the humble but fitting prayer, "Lord, remember me." This does
not seem to ask much; but as he understood it, it meant all that an
anxious heart could desire. As he thought of the kingdom, he had such
clear ideas of the glory of the Saviour, that he felt that if the Lord
would think of him his eternal state would be safe. Joseph, in prison,
asked the chief butler to remember him when he was restored to power;
but he forgat him. Our Joseph never forgets a sinner who cried to him
in the low dungeon; in his kingdom he remembers the moanings and
groanings of poor sinners who are burdened with a sense of sin. Can you
not pray this morning, and thus secure a place in the memory of the
Lord Jesus?

Thus I have tried to describe the man; and, after having done my best,
I shall fail of my object unless I make you see that whatever this
thief was, he is a picture of what you are. Especially if you have been
a great offender, and if you have been living long without caring for
eternal things, you are like that malefactor; and yet you, even you,
may do as that thief did; you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, and
commit your souls into his hands, and he will save you as surely as he
saved the condemned brigand. Jesus graciously says, "Him that cometh to
me I will in no wise cast out." This means that if you come and trust
him, whoever you may be, he will for no reason, and on no ground, and
under no circumstances, ever cast you out. Do you catch that thought?
Do you feel that it belongs to you, and that if you come to him, you
shall find eternal life? I rejoice if you so far perceive the truth.

Few persons have so much intercourse with desponding and despairing
souls as I have. Poor cast down ones write to me continually. I scarce
know why. I have no special gift of consolation, but I gladly lay
myself out to comfort the distressed, and they seem to know it. What
joy I have when I see a despairing one find peace! I have had this joy
several times during the week just ended. How much I desire that any of
you who are breaking your hearts because you cannot find forgiveness
would come to my Lord, and trust him, and enter into rest! Has he not
said, "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will
give you rest"? Come and try him, and that rest shall be yours.

II. In the second place, NOTE, THAT THIS MAN WAS OUR LORD'S COMPANION
AT THE GATE OF PARADISE. I am not going into any speculations as to
where our Lord went when he quitted the body which hung on the cross.
It would seem, from some Scriptures, that he descended into the lower
parts of the earth, that he might fill all things. But he very rapidly
traversed the regions of the dead. Remember that he died, perhaps an
hour or two before the thief, and during that time the eternal glory
flamed through the underworld, and was flashing through the gates of
paradise just when the pardoned thief was entering the eternal world.
Who is this that entereth the pearl-gate at the same moment as the King
of glory? Who is this favoured companion of the Redeemer? Is it some
honoured martyr? Is it a faithful apostle? Is it a patriarch, like
Abraham; or a prince, like David? It is none of these. Behold, and be
amazed at sovereign grace. He that goeth in at the gate of paradise,
with the King of glory, is a thief, who was saved in the article of
death. He is saved in no inferior way, and received into bliss in no
secondary style. Verily, there are last which shall be first!

Here I would have you notice the condescension of our Lord's choice.
The comrade of the Lord of glory, for whom the cherub turns aside his
sword of fire, is no great one, but a newly-converted malefactor. And
why? I think the Saviour took him with him as a specimen of what he
meant to do. He seemed to say to all the heavenly powers, "I bring a
sinner with me; he is a sample of the rest." Have you never heard of
him who dreamed that he stood without the gate of heaven, and while
there he heard sweet music from a band of venerable persons who were on
their way to glory? They entered the celestial portals, and there were
great rejoicing and shouts. Enquiring "What are these?" he was told
that they were the goodly fellowship of the prophets. He sighed, and
said, "Alas! I am not one of those." He waited a while, and another
band of shining ones drew nigh, who also entered heaven with
hallelujahs, and when he enquired, "Who are these, and whence came
they?" the answer was, "These are the glorious company of the
apostles." Again he sighed, and said, "I cannot enter with them." Then
came another body of men white-robed, and bearing palms in their hands,
who marched amid great acclamation into the golden city. These he
learned were the noble army of martyrs; and again he wept, and said, "I
cannot enter with these." In the end he heard the voices of much
people, and saw a greater multitude advancing, among whom he perceived
Rahab and Mary Magdalene, David and Peter, Manasseh and Saul of Tarsus,
and he espied especially the thief, who died at the right hand of
Jesus. These all entered in'a strange company. Then he eagerly
enquired, "Who are these?" and they answered, "This is the host of
sinners saved by grace." Then was he exceeding glad, and said, "I can
go with these." Yet, he thought there would be no shouting at the
approach of this company, and that they would enter heaven without
song; instead of which, there seemed to rise a seven-fold hallelujah of
praise unto the Lord of love; for there is joy in the presence of the
angels of God over sinners that repent.

I invite any poor soul here that can neither aspire to serve Christ,
nor to suffer for him as yet, nevertheless to come in with other
believing sinners, in the company of Jesus, who now sets before us an
open door.

While we are handling this text, note well the blessedness of the place
to which the Lord called this penitent. Jesus said, "To day shalt thou
be with me in paradise." Paradise means a garden, a garden filled with
delights. The garden of Eden is the type of heaven. We know that
paradise means heaven, for the apostle speaks of such a man caught up
into paradise, and anon he calls it the third heaven. Our Saviour took
this dying thief into the paradise of infinite delight, and this is
where he will take all of us sinners who believe in him. If we are
trusting him, we shall ultimately be with him in paradise.

The next word is better still. Note the glory of the society to which
this sinner is introduced: "To day shalt thou be with me in paradise."
If the Lord said, "To day shalt thou be with me," we should not need
him to add another word; for where he is, is heaven to us. He added the
word "paradise," because else none could have guessed where he was
going. Think of it, you uncomely soul; you are to dwell with the
Altogether-lovely One for ever. You poor and needy ones, you are to be
with him in his glory, in his bliss, in his perfection. Where he is,
and as he is, you shall be. The Lord looks into those weeping eyes of
yours this morning, and he says, "Poor sinner, thou shalt one day be
with me." I think I hear you say, "Lord, that is bliss too great for
such a sinner as I am"; but he replies'I have loved thee with an
everlasting love: therefore with lovingkindness will I draw thee, till
thou shalt be with me where I am.

The stress of the text lies in the speediness of all this. "Verily I
say unto thee, To day shalt thou be with me in paradise." "To day."
Thou shalt not lie in purgatory for ages, nor sleep in limbo for so
many years; but thou shalt be ready for bliss at once, and at once thou
shalt enjoy it. The sinner was hard by the gates of hell, but almighty
mercy lifted him up, and the Lord said, "To day shalt thou be with me
in paradise." What a change from the cross to the crown, from the
anguish of Calvary to the glory of the New Jerusalem! In those few
hours the beggar was lifted from the dunghill and set among princes.
"To day shalt thou be with me in paradise." Can you measure the change
from that sinner, loathsome in his iniquity, when the sun was high at
noon, to that same sinner, clothed in pure white, and accepted in the
Beloved, in the paradise of God, when the sun went down? O glorious
Saviour, what marvels thou canst work! How rapidly canst thou work
them!

Please notice, also, the majesty of the Lord's grace in this text. The
Saviour said to him, "Verily I say unto thee, To day shalt thou be with
me in paradise." Our Lord gives his own will as the reason for saving
this man. "I say." He says it who claims the right thus to speak. It is
he who will have mercy on whom he will have mercy, and will have
compassion on whom he will have compassion. He speaks royally, "Verily
I say unto thee." Are they not imperial words? The Lord is a King in
whose word there is power. What he says none can gainsay. He that hath
the keys of hell and of death saith, "I say unto thee, To day shalt
thou be with me in paradise." Who shall prevent the fulfilment of his
word?

Notice the certainty of it. He says, "Verily." Our blessed Lord on the
cross returned to his old majestic manner, as he painfully turned his
head, and looked on his convert. He was wont to begin his preaching
with, "Verily, verily, I say unto you"; and now that he is dying he
uses his favourite manner, and says, "Verily." Our Lord took no oath;
his strongest asseveration was, "Verily, verily." To give the penitent
the plainest assurance, he says, "Verily I say unto thee, To-day shalt
thou be with me in paradise." In this he had an absolutely indisputable
assurance that though he must die, yet he would live and find himself
in paradise with his Lord.

I have thus shown you that our Lord passed within the pearly gate in
company with one to whom he had pledged himself. Why should not you and
I pass through that pearl-gate in due time, clothed in his merit,
washed in his blood, resting on his power? One of these days angels
will say of you, and of me, "Who is this that cometh up from the
wilderness, leaning upon her beloved?" The shining ones will be amazed
to see some of us coming. If you have lived a life of sin until now,
and yet shall repent and enter heaven, what an amazement there will be
in every golden street to think that you have come there! In the early
Christian church Marcus Caius Victorinus was converted; but he had
reached so great an age, and had been so gross a sinner, that the
pastor and church doubted him. He gave, however, clear proof of having
undergone the divine change, and then there were great acclamations,
and many shouts of "Victorinus has become a Christian!" Oh, that some
of you big sinners might be saved! How gladly would we rejoice over
you! Why not? Would it not glorify God? The salvation of this convicted
highwayman has made our Lord illustrious for mercy even unto this day;
would not your case do the same? Would not saints cry, "Hallelujah!
hallelujah!" if they heard that some of you had been turned from
darkness to marvellous light? Why should it not be? Believe in Jesus,
and it is so.

III. Now I come to my third and most practical point: NOTE THE LORD'S
SERMON TO US FROM ALL THIS.

The devil wants to preach this morning a bit. Yes, Satan asks to come
to the front and preach to you; but he cannot be allowed. Avaunt, thou
deceiver! Yet I should not wander if he gets at certain of you when the
sermon is over, and whispers, "You see you can be saved at the very
last. Put off repentance and faith; you may be forgiven on your
death-bed." Sirs, you know who it is that would ruin you by this
suggestion. Abhor his deceitful teaching. Do not be ungrateful because
God is kind. Do not provoke the Lord because he is patient. Such
conduct would be unworthy and ungrateful. Do not run an awful risk
because one escaped the tremendous peril. The Lord will accept all who
repent; but how do you know that you will repent? It is true that one
thief was saved'but the other thief was lost. One is saved, and we may
not despair; the other is lost, and we may not presume. Dear friends, I
trust you are not made of such diabolical stuff as to fetch from the
mercy of God an argument for continuing in sin. If you do, I can only
say of you, your damnation will be just; you will have brought it upon
yourselves.

Consider now the teaching of our Lord; see the glory of Christ in
salvation. He is ready to save at the last moment. He was just passing
away; his foot was on the doorstep of the Father's house. Up comes this
poor sinner the last thing at night, at the eleventh hour, and the
Saviour smiles and declares that he will not enter except with this
belated wanderer. At the very gate he declares that this seeking soul
shall enter with him. There was plenty of time for him to have come
before: you know how apt we are to say, "You have waited to the last
moment. I am just going off, and I cannot attend to you now." Our Lord
had his dying pangs upon him, and yet he attends to the perishing
criminal, and permits him to pass through the heavenly portal in his
company. Jesus easily saves the sinners for whom he painfully died.
Jesus loves to rescue sinners from going down into the pit. You will be
very happy if you are saved, but you will not be one half so happy as
he will be when he saves you. See how gentle he is!

"His hand no thunder bears,

No terror clothes his brow;

No bolts to drive our guilty souls

To fiercer flames below."

He comes to us full of tenderness, with tears in his eyes, mercy in his
hands, and love in his heart. Believe him to be a great Saviour of
great sinners. I have heard of one who had received great mercy who
went about saying, "He is a great forgiver;" and I would have you say
the same. You shall find your transgressions put away, and your sins
pardoned once for all, if you now trust him.

The next doctrine Christ preaches from this wonderful story is faith in
its permitted attachment. This man believed that Jesus was the Christ.
The next thing he did was to appropriate that Christ. He said, "Lord,
remember me." Jesus might have said, "What have I to do with you, and
what have you to do with me? What has a thief to do with the perfect
One?" Many of you, good people, try to get as far away as you can from
the erring and fallen. They might infect your innocence! Society claims
that we should not be familiar with people who have offended against
its laws. We must not be seen associating with them, for it might
discredit us. Infamous bosh! Can anything discredit sinners such as we
are by nature and by practice? If we know ourselves before God we are
degraded enough in and of ourselves? Is there anybody, after all, in
the world, who is worse than we are when we see ourselves in the
faithful glass of the Word? As soon as ever a man believes that Jesus
is the Christ, let him hook himself on to him. The moment you believe
Jesus to be the Saviour, seize upon him as your Saviour. If I remember
rightly, Augustine called this man, "Latro laudabilis et mirabilis," a
thief to be praised and wondered at, who dared, as it were, to seize
the Saviour for his own. In this he is to be imitated. Take the Lord to
be yours, and you have him. Jesus is the common property of all sinners
who make bold to take him. Every sinner who has the will to do so may
take the Lord home with him. He came into the world to save the sinful.
Take him by force, as robbers take their prey; for the kingdom of
heaven suffereth the violence of daring faith. Get him, and he will
never get himself away from you. If you trust him, he must save you.

Next, notice the doctrine of faith in its immediate power.

"The moment a sinner believes,

And trusts in his crucified God,

His pardon at once he receives,

Redemption in full through his blood."

"To-day shalt thou be with me in paradise." He has no sooner believed
than Christ gives him the seal of his believing in the full assurance
that he shall be with him for ever in his glory. O dear hearts, if you
believe this morning, you shall be saved this morning! God grant that
you, by his rich grace, may be brought into salvation here, on the
spot, and at once!

The next thing is, the nearness of eternal things. Think of that a
minute. Heaven and hell are not places far away. You may be in heaven
before the clock ticks again, it is so near. Could we but rend that
veil which parts us from the unseen! It is all there, and all near. "To
day," said the Lord; within three or four hours at the longest, "shalt
thou be with me in paradise;" so near is it. A statesman has given us
the expression of being "within measurable distance." We are all within
measurable distance of heaven or hell; if there be any difficulty in
measuring the distance, it lies in its brevity rather than in its
length.

"One gentle sigh the fetter breaks,

We scarce can say, 'He's gone,'

Before the ransomed spirit takes

Its mansion near the throne."

Oh, that we, instead of trifling about such things, because they seem
so far away, would solemnly realize them, since they are so very near!
This very day, before the sun goes down, some hearer, now sitting in
this place, may see, in his own spirit, the realities of heaven or
hell. It has frequently happened, in this large congregation, that some
one of our audience has died ere the next Sabbath has come round: it
may happen this week. Think of that, and let eternal things impress you
all the more because they lie so near.

Furthermore, know that if you have believed in Jesus you are prepared
for heaven. It may be that you will have to live on earth twenty, or
thirty, or forty years to glorify Christ; and, if so, be thankful for
the privilege; but if you do not live another hour, your instantaneous
death would not alter the fact that he that believeth in the Son of God
is meet for heaven. Surely, if anything beyond faith is needed to make
us fit to enter paradise, the thief would have been kept a little
longer here; but no, he is, in the morning, in the state of nature, at
noon he enters the state of grace, and by sunset he is in the state of
glory. The question never is whether a death-bed repentance is accepted
if it be sincere: the question is'Is it sincere? If it be so, if the
man dies five minutes after his first act of faith, he is as safe as if
he had served the Lord for fifty years. If your faith is true, if you
die one moment after you have believed in Christ, you will be admitted
into paradise, even if you shall have enjoyed no time in which to
produce good works and other evidences of grace. He that reads the
heart will read your faith written on its fleshy tablets, and he will
accept you through Jesus Christ, even though no act of grace has been
visible to the eye of man.

I conclude by again saying that this is not an exceptional case. I
began with that, and I want to finish with it, because so many
demi-semi-gospellers are so terribly afraid of preaching free grace too
fully. I read somewhere, and I think it is true, that some ministers
preach the gospel in the same way as donkeys eat thistles, namely,
very, very cautiously. On the contrary, I will preach it boldly. I have
not the slightest alarm about the matter. If any of you misuse
free-grace teaching, I cannot help it. He that will be damned can as
well ruin himself by perverting the gospel as by anything else. I
cannot help what base hearts may invent; but mine it is to set forth
the gospel in all its fulness of grace, and I will do it. If the thief
was an exceptional case'and our Lord does not usually act in such a
way'there would have been a hint given of so important a fact. A hedge
would have been set about this exception to all rules. Would not the
Saviour have whispered quietly to the dying man, "You are the only one
I am going to treat in this way"? Whenever I have to do an exceptional
favour to a person, I have to say, "Do not mention this, or I shall
have so many besieging me." If the Saviour had meant this to be a
solitary case, he would have faintly said to him, "Do not let anybody
know; but you shall to day be in the kingdom with me." No, our Lord
spoke openly, and those about him heard what he said. Moreover, the
inspired penman has recorded it. If it had been an exceptional case, it
would not have been written in the Word of God. Men will not publish
their actions in the newspapers if they feel that the record might lead
others to expect from them what they cannot give. The Saviour had this
wonder of grace reported in the daily news of the gospel, because he
means to repeat the marvel every day. The bulk shall be equal to
sample, and therefore he sets the sample before you all. He is able to
save to the uttermost, for he saved the dying thief. The case would not
have been put there to encourage hopes which he cannot fulfil.
Whatsoever things were written aforetime were written for our learning,
and not for our disappointing. I pray you, therefore, if any of you
have not yet trusted in my Lord Jesus, come and trust in him now. Trust
him wholly; trust him only; trust him at once. Then will you sing with
me'

"The dying thief rejoiced to see

That fountain in his day,

And there have I, though vile as he,

Washed all my sins away."

PORTION OF SCRIPTURE READ BEFORE SERMON'Luke 23:27-49.

HYMNS FROM "OUR OWN HYMN BOOK"'241, 288, 506.

* No. 1881. "The Dying Thief in a New Light."