Jesus, Remember Us

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Jesus, Remember Us” Luke 23:33-43

The world has known many kings.

During Jesus’ earthly ministry, the Roman Emperor was Tiberias Julius Caesar Augustus. Born to an ancient Roman noble family, Tiberias rose to power as a military man. Under his leadership, the Roman armies extended the boundaries of the empire north, conquering the Germanic tribes and pushing all the way to the North Sea. Tiberias’s personal life was scandalous, marked by stories of sexual misconduct and excessive drinking. He succeeded his father-in-law Julius Caesar, inheriting a significant portion of the vast imperial treasury, a fortune that he multiplied twenty times over in his 24-year-reign. He held onto power by executing political rivals. Despite his power and riches, Pliny the elder described Tiberias as “the gloomiest of men.”

Herod Antipas was the Roman-appointed king of Galilee and Perea, east of the Jordan. Herod built an impressive capital city on the Sea of Galilee and named it Tiberias after his friend the emperor. In a world where most people lived in tiny two-room dry stone huts, Herod had no fewer than five opulent royal residences from the Roman-style palace at Tiberias to the mountaintop desert fortress of Machaerus, where Herod had John the Baptist imprisoned and beheaded.  In a time when the average daily wage was one denarius, Herod was paid the imperial sum of 1,200,000 denarii-a-year to rule on behalf of the Romans, collect taxes, and ruthlessly keep the peace. Like his mentor Tiberias, Herod’s personal life was marked by lavish parties and excessive drinking, as well as an incestuous marriage to Herodias, who was both his niece and his brother’s wife.

Kings continue to rule around the world. This week, the White House played host to the Saudi Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman, known to his friends as MBS. The Saudi crown prince is fabulously rich with a fortune estimated at $25 billion dollars, amassed from control of oil resources and a wide net of strategic investments. In a 2017 purge, MBS invited his political rivals to a lavish party at the Riyadh Ritz Carlton, where he arrested them all on charges of corruption. His luxury lifestyle includes a superyacht, the Serene, valued at $500 million and a French palace, the Chateau Louis IV, which rivals Versailles. It’s said that MBS has been an architect of the decade-long War in Yemen, which has left that nation in humanitarian crisis. He is also believed to have ordered the 2018 assassination of Washington Post journalist and Saudi dissident Jamal Khasoggi, who was detained, murdered, and dismembered with a bone saw at the king’s behest.

The watchwords of these earthly kings are power, wealth, and self-interest.

On this final Sunday of the church year, we are asked to ponder Christ the King. The Christ we encounter today has none of the absolute power of Tiberias or the imperial paycheck of Herod. He doesn’t own a superyacht or a French palace. Jesus was betrayed by one of his most trusted companions. His followers abandoned him. He was falsely accused and unjustly condemned of blasphemy and sedition. He was badly beaten and cruelly scourged. The bruised and bloody Jesus was paraded through the streets of the city behind a placard bearing the inscription “King of the Jews,” an example of what happens to those who threaten the authority of Tiberias and Herod. At the place they called The Skull, Jesus was stripped, nailed to a cross, and left to die as soldiers gambled and a crowd looked on. To ensure that Jesus was thoroughly humiliated, his executioners suspended him between two known criminals. And as Jesus hanged there, broken, bleeding, and dying, he was scoffed at, mocked, and derided. Even so, Jesus found the strength and the courage to rise above his pain, and seek a path that his royal contemporaries couldn’t begin to imagine. Jesus prayed for his executioners and persecutors, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” The first watchword in the court of the crucified king is forgiveness.

Three times the dying Jesus was taunted by those around him. The leaders, who orchestrated his execution, scoffed, ““He saved others; let him save himself.” The soldiers mocked, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” Even one of the thieves repeatedly derided Jesus, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” But the salvation that Jesus offers our world takes place through the cross and not apart from it. Jesus chooses death on a cross because he would sooner save us than save himself. Jesus dies so that we might live, so that we might see that God would sooner die than be parted from us. The second watchword in the court of the crucified king is self-giving love.

Only one person on Golgotha that fateful day saw who Jesus truly was. Luke doesn’t give the repentant criminal dying on the cross next to Jesus a name, but tradition says that he was called Dismas. Although we don’t have a list of his criminal acts, in the 4th century, John Chrysostom taught that Dismas was a desert bandit, who robbed and killed unwary travelers. In the 5th century, Gregory the Great said that Dismas was both thief and murderer, guilty of killing his brother.  By his own admission, Dismas was no saint. “We have been condemned justly,” he called out to his criminal colleague who derided Jesus, “We are getting what we deserve for our deeds.” The dying Dismas saw his shattered life for what it was and knew that he was fast approaching an awful, irredeemable end. Even as his breath grew ragged and his vision dimmed, Dismas dared to hope that Jesus, this different kind of king, could work a miracle for him. Half prayer, half gallows plea, Dismas asked “Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom.”

The dying king turned to his reprobate neighbor. Even though the selfish, sinful actions of Dismas’ long criminal career were abundantly self-evident, Jesus looked into all the broken bits of Dismas’ life and found the grace to love him and extend God’s mercy. “Truly, I tell you,” Jesus promised, “Today you will be with me in Paradise.”  I imagine that Dismas wept to learn that in Jesus’ kingdom no life is so broken that it cannot be held and healed, loved and redeemed. We are not desert bandits, but there is a little bit of Dismas in each of us. We know the broken bits of our life, the bad choices, the harsh words, the failures to love. In the mercy that Dismas finds, we dare to hope that there is mercy for us. The third watchword in the court of the crucified king is mercy.

The world has known many kings. On this final Sunday of the church year, we are challenged to affirm who our king is. Whose watchwords will we embrace and put into practice? Will we pursue the way of Tiberias, Herod, MBS, and much of the world, prioritizing power, wealth, and our own selfish interest? Or will we take our place in the court of the crucified king? Will we follow Jesus and practice forgiveness, self-giving love, and mercy?

After the death of his son Drusus under mysterious circumstances, Tiberias left Rome and reigned from the Isle of Capri. There he became increasingly depressed and paranoid. When Tiberius’s righthand man Sejanus was caught in a plot to usurp him, Tiberias cleaned house, executing many who were implicated in the scheme. According to Tacitus, “There lay, singly or in heaps, the unnumbered dead, of every age and sex, the illustrious with the obscure. Kinsfolk and friends were not allowed to be near them, to weep over them, or even to gaze on them too long.” Tiberius died in the year 37, at the age of 78. Seneca wrote that the emperor died of natural causes, but rumors flew that he had been poisoned by his successor Caligula, starved, and smothered with a pillow. Tiberias was so loathed by the people that, after his death, mobs filled the streets of Rome yelling, “To the Tiber with Tiberius!”— a fate reserved for criminals were thrown into the river and denied burial or cremation.

Herod Antipas’s hold on power began to slip in the year 36 after an expensive and failed war with the neighboring kingdom of the Nabateans. When his patron Tiberias died and Caligula rose to power, Herod found himself out of favor with the imperial family. Caligula accused Herod of plotting with the Persian King Artibanus to throw off the yoke of the empire. In the summer of the year 39, Herod Antipas was stripped of his title, wealth, and territory. He was exiled to Gaul on the western frontier where he died the same year. The historian Cassius Dio believed that Caligula had him killed.

We don’t know what the future holds for the Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman. We can trust that if his political rivals or the abject poor of his kingdom or the Yemeni rebels or the Iranians have anything to do with it, it won’t be pretty.

On the third day, the crucified king rose from tomb. God’s love conquered the powers of sin and death. God’s Kingdom overcame the earthly principalities of Herod and Tiberias. Of Jesus’ reign, there shall be no end. He has 2.3 billion followers in the world today. His rule is honored and his name is glorified whenever we go forth to live by his watchwords of forgiveness, self-giving love, and mercy. Jesus, remember us.

Resources

Kendra A. Mohn. “Commentary on Luke 23:33-43” in Preach This Week, Nov. 23, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/christ-the-king-3/commentary-on-luke-2333-43-6

Gilberto Ruiz. “Commentary on Luke 23:33-43” in Preach This Week, Nov. 20, 2016. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/christ-the-king-3/commentary-on-luke-2333-43-2

Patrick J. Willson. “Homiletical Perspective on Luke 23:33-43” in Feasting on the Word, Year C, Vol. 4. Westminster John Knox Press, 2013.

Nancy Lynne Westfield. “Pastoral Perspective on Luke 23:33-43” in Feasting on the Word, Year C, Vol. 4. Westminster John Knox Press, 2013.

“Herod Antipas” in The Anchor Bible Dictionary, Vol. 3. New York: Doubleday, 1992.

“Tiberias” in The Anchor Bible Dictionary, Vol. 6. New York: Doubleday, 1992.

“Mohammad bin Salman: royal power, oil, money, and a controversial legacy” in Finance Monthly, https://www.finance-monthly.com/mohammed-bin-salmans-net-worth-2025-royal-power-oil-money-and-a-controversial-legacy/


Luke 23:33-43

33 When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. [[34 Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”]] And they cast lots to divide his clothing. 35 And the people stood by watching, but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!” 36 The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine 37 and saying, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” 38 There was also an inscription over him, “This is the King of the Jews.” 39 One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding[e] him and saying, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” 40 But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41 And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.” 42 Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come in[g] your kingdom.” 43 He replied, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.”


King Jesus

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “King Jesus” John 18:33-38a

Who has authority?  When we are very little, our parents are the big authority figures. Even if our first word is “no,” the only “no” that truly matters is the one spoken by our mother or father. As we head into high school, we may find a teacher or coach whom we grant a place of special authority.  That science teacher who tutored us through our Advanced Placement exams or the track coach who brought out our athletic excellence may play an influential role in our development. In adulthood, our workplace often demands our allegiance.  We may put in long hours because we love and are fulfilled by what we do, and if we don’t love it, then we value that paycheck which covers the rent, puts food on the table, and keeps the car on the road. Family can take on ultimate authority for our lives. Devotion to a spouse, taxiing kids to extra-curricular activities, time with extended family, all can control our daily living. How many of us will be gathering with family (or those who are like family) for Thanksgiving this week?

As we age, our doctor is often the one who has an authoritative say. On doctor’s orders, we count our calories, cut out the sugar, avoid the saturated fats, and give up salt or caffeine. I’m from a long line of people with high cholesterol. A doctor once told my Mom that her body could make cholesterol out of spinach. Last year, on my doctor’s advice, I met with a dietician to see if we could tweak my diet to improve my elevated numbers. I used olive oil instead of butter and cut way back on eggs. We ate more fish, more fruit, more fiber. I was feeling pretty impressed with myself until I had new bloodwork done earlier this month. All that hard work reduced my cholesterol by a whopping nine points. Thanks a lot, doc!

In time, we come full circle. One day, we discern that the balance of power and authority has shifted. It falls to our adult children to now tell us the “no” that we don’t want to hear.  We find ourselves moving to a more manageable home, giving up our car, or foregoing the season pass for downhill skiing at Whiteface. 

Those to whom we grant authority shape our lives and influence the course of our daily living.  They have a lot to say about who we are and what our life looks like.  Who has the ultimate authority for our lives this morning?

Our gospel lesson tells of the face-off between Jesus of Nazareth and Pontius Pilate, two men of authority, who allowed very different forces to shape and direct their lives.  For Pontius Pilate, the Emperor Tiberias Augustus had ultimate authority.  Pilate was a career officer in the legions of Rome, a soldier who rose through the ranks, thanks to his political connections and his skill with the javelin. It was rumored that Pilate, married to the illegitimate daughter of Julia—the emperor’s second wife, was a particular favorite of Tiberias. The emperor dispatched Pilate to Judea to quell the chaos left behind when the corrupt King Herod Archelaus was deposed. 

For six years, Pilate had served as the procurator (or client king) of Judea.  He governed, not because he cared about the Israelite people, but because he was duty bound to protect the financial and political interests of his emperor.  Pilate had two key responsibilities as procurator: to ensure that taxes were collected and to keep the peace, the pax Romana, at any price.  Pilate’s chief weapons in achieving his purpose were fear and violence, and he used those weapons liberally. In his first six years as procurator, Pilate had ruthlessly crushed three rebellions. He crucified insurrectionists and slaughtered their followers.

More than any other time of year in this miserable backwater where the emperor had sent him, Pilate dreaded the Passover, which awakened within the Hebrew people the historic longing for liberation from foreign oppression. As Pilate was roused from his bed early on Friday of the Passover Festival, he was told that yet another political dissident was in custody, Jesus of Nazareth, whom the people heralded as King of the Jews.

When Pilate entered the courtyard of the Praetorium to interrogate his prisoner, he expected to find a man not unlike himself, a man with political ambitions who used violence to achieve power and authority over the people. Instead, Pilate found an impoverished, homeless rabbi, who sought not to build an earthly kingdom but to reveal a heavenly kingdom, where God holds ultimate authority.  The kingdom that Jesus served was unlike any that the procurator had ever imagined. It was not forged by fear and violence, rather it was revealed in love and justice.

Because God had ultimate authority in Jesus’ life, he had left his hometown, his kin, and his profession as a carpenter.  From Galilee to Jerusalem, Jesus poured out his life in love and justice. Jesus reached out with holy healing power that cleansed lepers, restored blind eyes, opened deaf ears, fed the hungry, and even raised the dead. He taught about God’s great love for all kinds of people, even those whom society labeled outcasts and sinners. If Pilate would give him half a chance, Jesus would even tell Pilate that God loved him and longed to put Pilate to work in another kingdom. But within hours, Jesus would be wearing a crown of thorns. Within hours, he would be enthroned upon a cross, beneath the title “King of the Jews.”

As Pilate confronted Jesus, two kingdoms stood in tension, two very different ways of exercising power and authority.  In Pilate’s kingdom, peace was secured with the sword and kept with the brutality of crucifixion.  In Christ’s kingdom, peace was proclaimed by meeting people in their places of greatest need with caring, compassion, and love.  In Pilate’s kingdom, soldiers were dispatched to inspire fear and maintain order. In Jesus’ kingdom, disciples were sent out to heal, teach, and transform the social order. In Pilate’s kingdom, oppressive taxes stole from the poor to line the pockets of the rich. In Jesus’ kingdom, the rich shared from their abundance to meet the needs of the poor. In Pilate’s kingdom, the emperor declared himself a God and demanded the tribute and sacrifice of the people. In Jesus’ kingdom, God chose to become a man who would sacrifice his very life to redeem the people. Pilate’s kingdom would rise and fall, but Jesus’ Kingdom would reign forever.

Christ the King Sunday was first commemorated in 1925 to assert the authority of God in a world that was increasingly secular. The fires of rabid nationalism were being stoked in Europe. That year, Benito Mussolini dismantled Italy’s democratic institutions and assumed his role as dictator, adopting the title Il Duce (“The Leader”). In Germany, Adolf Hitler, newly released from prison for his role in an attempted coup, had just published the first volume of Mein Kampf. That same year, he founded the SS—the violent political soldiers of the Nazi party—and he was maneuvering to assume leadership which would propel him into the role of German chancellor. In America, it was all about the money, money, money. The roaring twenties were in full swing. Prohibition filled Saranac Lake with speakeasies and bootleggers. The stock market had begun a period of explosive growth; its value would soar from $27 billion in 1925 to $87 billion in 1929, before the crash of the Great Depression. Whom would the world serve? Dictators, mad men pedaling hate, the unchecked forces of capitalism, or King Jesus? The world needed at least one Sunday to ponder who and what should have ultimate authority.

On Christ the King Sunday, we are asked to affirm whom we will ultimately serve—Jesus or the powers and principalities of this world.  Whom will we allow to hold authority for our daily living?  The way of the empire can bring personal rewards—power, wealth, and worldly prestige. Who doesn’t want that?  And yet, the price of our triumph is the oppression of the world around us, the exploitation of neighbors and nature, and the wounding of our world with violence and death. Just ask Pontius Pilate. 

Christ our King challenges us to choose another way, another kingdom. In Christ’s Kingdom, God has ultimate authority, and the driving ethic is one of love and justice. We serve that holy kingdom by choosing to live as Jesus did, reaching out to heal and to feed, to welcome and forgive. The reward for our service is peace, healing, and redemption, not only for ourselves but also for those around us—for family, friends, community, and ultimately our world. Who doesn’t want that? 

Those to whom we grant authority shape our lives and influence the course of our daily living.  They have a lot to say about who we are and what our life looks like. Above all earthly powers, the crucified and risen Lord alone claims our adoration and allegiance. May we go forth to follow King Jesus.

Resources

Paul S. Berge. “Commentary on John 18:33-37” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 22, 2009. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/christ-the-king-2/commentary-on-john-1833-37-6

Jaime Clark-Soles. “Commentary on John 18:33-37” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 25, 2012. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/christ-the-king-2/commentary-on-john-1833-37

Susan Hylen. “Commentary on John 18:33-37” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 25, 2012. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/christ-the-king-2/commentary-on-john-1833-37-3

PCUSA. “Christ the King/Reign of Christ” in Book of Common Worship. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2018.


John 18:33-38a

33 Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” 34 Jesus answered, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” 35 Pilate replied, “I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?” 36 Jesus answered, “My kingdom does not belong to this world. If my kingdom belonged to this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.” 37 Pilate asked him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” 38 Pilate asked him, “What is truth?”