after the veil of the Temple was rent. If we could look up yonder, and catch a glimpse of the throne, we would see the Father there, and Jesus Christ at His right hand; and hard by we would see that thief. He is there to-day. Nineteen hundred years he has been there, just because he cried in faith:
"Lord, remember me when Thou comest into Thy kingdom."
You know Christ died a little while before the thief. I can imagine that He wanted to hurry home to get a place ready for His new friend, the first soul brought from the world He was dying to redeem. The Lord loved him because he confessed Him in that dark hour. It was a dark hour for many who reviled the Savior. You have heard of the child who did not want to die and go to heaven because he didn't know anybody there. But the thief would have one acquaintance. I can imagine how his soul leaped within him when he saw the spear thrust into our Savior's side, and heard the cry:
"It is finished!"
He wanted to follow Christ. He was in a hurry to be gone, when they came to break his legs. I can hear the Lord calling:
"Gabriel, prepare a chariot. Make haste. There is a friend of mine hanging on that cross. They are breaking his legs. He will soon be ready to come. Make haste, and bring him to me?"
The angel in the chariot swept down from heaven, took the soul of that penitent thief, and hastened back to glory. The gates of the city swung wide open, and the angels shouted welcome to this poor sinner who had been washed white in the blood of the Lamb.
And that, my friends, is just what Christ wants to do for you. That is the business on which He came down from heaven. That is why He died. And if He gave such a swift salvation to this poor thief on the cross, surely He will give you the same if, like the penitent thief, you repent, and confess, and trust in the Savior.
Somebody says that this man "was saved at the eleventh hour." I don't know about that. It might have been the first hour with him. Perhaps he never knew of Christ until he was led out to die beside Him. This may have been the very first time he ever had a chance to know the Son of God.
How many of you gave your hearts to Christ the very first time He asked them of you? Are you not farther along in the day than even that poor thief?
Some years ago, in one of the mining districts of England, a young man attended one of our meetings and refused to go from the place till he had found peace in the Savior. The next day he went down into the pit, and the coal fell in upon him. When they took him out he was broken and mangled, and had only two or three minutes of life left in him. His friends gathered about him, saw his lips moving, and, bending down to catch his words, heard him say:
"It was a good thing I settled it last night."
Settle it now, my friends, once for all. Begin now to confess your sins, and pray the Lord to remember you. He will make you an heir of His kingdom, if you will accept the gift of salvation. He is just the same Savior the thief had. Will you not cry to Him for mercy?
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A cross,--and one who hangs thereon, in sight Of heaven and earth.
The cruel nails are fast In trembling hands and feet, the face is white And changed with agony, the failing head Is drooping heavily; but still again, And yet again, the weary eyes are raised To seek the face of One who hangeth pale Upon another cross. He hears no shrill And taunting voices of the crowd beneath, He marks no cruel looks of all that gaze Upon the woeful sight. He sees alone That face upon the cross. Oh, long, long look, That searcheth there the deep and awful things Which are of God!
In his first agony And horror he had joined with them that spake Against the Lord, the Lamb, who gave Himself That day for us. But when he met the look Of those calm eyes,--he paused that instant; pale And trembling, stricken to the heart, and faint At sight of Him. . . . . . . . .
At length The pale, glad lips have breathed the trembling prayer, "_O Lord, remember me!_" The hosts of God With wistful angel-faces, bending low Above their dying King, were surely stirred To wonder at the cry. Not one of all The shining host had dared to speak to Him In that dread hour of woe, when Heaven and Earth Stood trembling and amazed. Yet, lo! the voice Of one who speaks to Him, who dares to pray, "_O Lord, remember me!_" A sinful man May make his pitiful appeal to Christ, The sinner's Friend, when angels dare not speak. And sweetly from the dying lips that day The answer came.
Oh, strange and solemn joy Which broke upon the fading face of him Who there received the promise: "_Thou shalt be_ _In Paradise this night, this night, with Me_."
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