From our youngest days of catechesis, we the faithful are called to participate in building the “kingdom of God.” Well, our readings today offer us something of the “Kingship” God intends. And it comes from a surprising place, as we find ourselves on Calvary, the scene of Christ’s death.  

Above his tortured body an inscription reads: "This is the King of the Jews."  

Surely, this is no ordinary, earthly kingship.

Believe it or not, Calvary is a place I think of often, given my work at Catholic Mobilizing Network. Our organization’s logo includes an image of Calvary, centering a place of immense pain, as well as profound redemption, transformation, and love. This is where forgiveness and reconciliation serve as a foundation of CMN’s work toward ending the death penalty, advancing justice, and creating the conditions so that healing might be possible.

Calvary is an image that holds significance not only for CMN, but widely in our Christian tradition. It is a dark and heavy scene; after all it’s a grim place of execution. Beyond the darkness, this place of state-sanctioned death points toward a fountain of hope and mercy that has the power to forgive, to overcome vengeance, and to bring everlasting life.  

In today’s reading, we are invited to stand among the crowd at the foot of Jesus’ Cross. It’s agonizing to come up close to this scene. I often think of Calvary from a distance, the silhouettes of three bodies hanging on crosses. The macabre pageantry. The spectacle of torture. The mockery of those condemned to death that occurred on Calvary remains today--more than 2000 years after Christ’s own execution.  

Although there have been incredible strides toward the abolition of the death penalty, the barbarism of executions is still legal in about half of the United States and in countries like China, North Korea and Iran. Instead of a cross, today the lives of the condemned are taken by means of lethal injection, gassing, and the firing squad. Yes, the methods of capital punishment have evolved to appear more palatable, and sterile. But this is deceptive; executions are never any of these things — they weren’t in Jesus' time and are not now.  

Luke’s Gospel story invites us to zoom in and experience Calvary up close. In our nearness, we hear the voices of the men hanging on these crosses. All three are labeled “criminals” and face imminent execution. From what we know, unlike Jesus, the other two men are guilty of their crimes. On this ridge, two divergent narratives play out in raw display. One narrative that leads to death. One narrative that leads to everlasting life.  

The man to Jesus’ left is known as the "unrepentant thief”. He, along with the rulers and soldiers, taunt Jesus--challenging him to save himself and prove his role as the "King of the Jews.” This terribly misunderstood perception of power suggests that Jesus would subvert his public humiliation and prevail by dominating his captors.  

Even in this brief story, we can sense the unrepentant thief’s hardness of heart, unable to seek forgiveness or to sense the nearness of God right before him.  He and the rest of those that mock Jesus have a narrow view of God, one that is limited to a self-serving figurehead. Their hardened hearts are unable to fathom God’s saving grace or the restorative, healing power and mercy of God.  

In stark contrast, the man to Jesus’ right, called Dismas, is known as the “Good Thief.” Dismas defends Jesus from the mockery that surrounds him. He acts with great humility and faith. Acknowledging his own sin, he repents. It is Dismas who recognizes God in his midst, and even with all of the distractions around him, Dismas has the courage to ask something of Jesus — to remember him when he comes into his kingdom. In this simple act, Dismas demonstrates a profound understanding of the vastness of God’s power, which extends far beyond our earthly realities.  

We know little else about Dismas, beyond these few sentences. Yet Jesus’ response to Dismas opens up the character of God’s kingship. We learn about the kind of authority and influence Jesus intends. And we find God’s promise of eternal life. Not of worldly power but the forgiveness of sins and generous bestowal of mercy.  

And Jesus offers this to us, too. Today.

In this final hour on Calvary, we see a radically different kind of kingship than the world elevates. God’s reign is not self-serving, or seeking retribution. Nor does it portend a death-dealing system intent on punishment.  

No. Instead, Jesus offers a paradise of mercy that extends even to those whom we may not think deserve it.  

I pray that our work here on earth to build this reign of God, your work and mine, may always be rooted in that mercy, extended freely to the poor, the marginalized, forgotten and outcast. To those who have suffered harm and to those who have caused it.  

May we be inspired to keep Calvary close. To recognize God in our midst. And to have the courage to do our part in building God’s reign of mercy and restoration.  

Saint Dismas, patron saint of prisoners, especially those on death row, pray for us.