The Crucifixion Encounter (Vol. 3)

For some reason, I would like to stay anonymous.

Unlike most of you, I woke up one morning knowing very well the only place that awaited me by nightfall was misery. I wish I could ask you to imagine walking in my shoes, yet no one can truly empathize with you until they’re in it together with you—whatever the situation.

I thought I had always lived life to the fullest. Even in prison, I forgot that each one of us was there on a different account.

On your day of death, scenes of the life you’ve lived flash right before you. There’s regret for the things you did wrong—and the things you failed to do. Right from childhood, through to the stage when I began making the wrong choices that eventually led me here.

On that day at Calvary, we were hung together with the man they called Jesus—oh, sorry, “The King of the Jews.” Everyone had heard of him, even in prison. Who would have thought he’d end up this way?

Youth of today – instead of equipping themselves by letting others take the fall, see how his lack of “smartness” has landed him.

I was going to die that day, yet it didn’t stop me from being sarcastic. As the priests kept mocking him, I could hardly hold back my laughter. I mean—why be on a cross along with bandits if you’re the Son of God? Why not just vanish into thin air?

For a while, we were all calm. I guess the reality of death finally hit me. Looking around at the crowd, I realized most were merely interested in seeing Jesus suffer. A few were his followers.

But whatever their reason for being there—it was all because of him. And that made him special. Quite different from me and the other thief.

Is it really true?

All that they say he is?

The arms of death were wide open to embrace me, yet here I was with no face of a loved one to behold. Not even a mother wailing like they were doing for him. I felt bad for myself, reflecting on the life I had lived—one without true love, with no one to mourn me.

All I had left was emptiness… and guilt.

Then, the thief on the other side began hurling insults at Jesus, saying, “Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!”

But how could he?

“Do you not fear God, seeing you are under the same sentence?” I rebuked him (Luke 23:40).

Our penalty was just. But this man had done nothing wrong.

Turning to Jesus, I said, “Lord, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” (Luke 23:42)

He responded with the sweetest words I’ve ever heard:

“Amen soi lego semeron met emou ese en to Paradeiso”. Translating…

“Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

(Luke 23:43)

Instantly, joy filled my heart.

I didn’t know I was going to meet him today.

I didn’t know I was going to be pardoned.

The world may have condemned me, but someone showed me mercy.

I was dying, yet I only wished death would come quickly—so I could meet him again at the place he promised.

I knew he was a stranger, yet I believed him.

Till his final moment, I kept glancing at him and smiling—the man who gave me peace and salvation… on a cross.

And finally, he gave up the ghost.

For all my years on earth, I had only known this man for a few hours, yet he touched my life in a way no one else ever did.

There’s one truth I carry with me:

Even in death, he made me his priority.

He chose to give up the ghost before me, so I could be counted among the redeemed—so that his blood could cleanse and make me whole.

He saved me. A sinner.

And there’s hope for you too.