It occurred to me recently, through the benefit of some insightful teaching by others, that the first person in Paradise with Jesus was very likely the most unlikely of characters.  A convicted criminal without a good deed to his name. Not a priest or even a good man, but a thief.

As Jesus hung on the cross, the gospel of Luke records a conversation between the Savior and the two thieves who hung nearby.”One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: ‘Aren’t you the Christ? Save yourself and us!’ But the other criminal rebuked him. ‘Don’t you fear God,’ he said, ’since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.’  Then he said, ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’ Jesus answered him, ‘I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.’”

Within three hours, Jesus would give up His spirit, declaring, “It is finished.”  In the two hours that followed, the two thieves would also die, helped along by Roman soldiers who broke their legs and ensured their quick suffocation.   It seems highly probably to me, then, that the first believer to die following Jesus’ completed sacrifice was that wretched man. Aside from Jesus Himself, he would be the first believer in the door.

Getting in by the skin of his teeth would be a gross understatement. This thief had no opportunity to demonstrate his faith through good deeds, no opportunity to ask forgiveness from those he stole from.  He took no Scripture memorization courses, no Bible studies, didn’t even have his first quiet time.  There wasn’t a single thing that we know of that we can credit to his account as fruit of the Spirit, evidence of his faith, or love for his brother.  Nothing.  Nada.  There was no chance for him to have done even the smallest of good works.  Yet he would be in Paradise with Christ before anyone else.  Jesus said so – “Today,” He said.  No delays or time-out as a penalty for all that man had done and all he had left undone.  Jesus’ sacrifice was more than enough to cover it all.

And perhaps that’s the point.  There is no work that is necessary for a person to enter God’s Kingdom.  Faith alone is enough.  Nothing says that to me more clearly than the thief who died next to Jesus.  He added nothing to what Jesus was accomplishing right before his eyes. He couldn’t have even if he had wanted to.  But nothing more was needed.

So when I see and hear people around me talking about how we need to do this or learn that to demonstrate our faith, there’s a little something in me that tightens and convulses a bit. Really?  I need to do that? And there is that voice inside me that agrees with them, whispering that God will not be pleased with me unless I serve here or make sure some project I’m working on is perfect, or have my 30 minutes of quiet time with Him each day, and so on and so on.

Now, anyone who knows me will know that I’m not espousing a careless faith at all.  Doing good works and spending time with God are wonderful things and our lives would be much poorer without them.  But I find that there is a very fine line in me that I cross frequently – the line between doing these things because I love God and doing these things to make God love me.  The line between grace by faith and a works-based theology.  What I often forget is that God’s love for me – like His love for the thief on the cross – doesn’t depend on what I do but Who I believe and love.  All of those good works and fruit of the Spirit things are simply side-effects.  They can neither produce in me the love that I’m hoping to have and express, nor can they elicit from God a deeper affection for me than He already has.  They are the true outpouring of a heart overflowing with faith, and their lack in my life is evidence of a lack of faith.  Going through those motions will not produce anything good or get me any closer to heaven.  They might cause people to love me more, but not God.  If I truly love God, they will be there of their own accord.  But if I don’t, the fact that I do good deeds will not cover up the stench of a false faith, of the hypocrisy of shallow works with no heart to back them up.

The thief also teaches me that it is never too late and there is no one so far gone that Jesus cannot reach him.  There are certainly people in my life that I would consider beyond God’s reach.  They have set up obstacle after obstacle between themselves and Truth.  They want to be saved, to be sure, but on their own terms – like the second thief who ridiculed the dying Savior hoping only to escape the punishment he deserved.  No, though the time is running short, and a person may be breathing their last handful of breaths, if even in that moment they believe, then it is enough.  God doesn’t give up on them while they are alive, and neither should I.

And so a thief who died some two thousand years gets the privilege of being the first to be welcomed into Paradise by Jesus, who Himself arrived just moments before.  I wonder what he thought as the Savior, who he had just met hours before as they were both suffering an agonizing death, ushered him into a place with no more sorrow or suffering or pain.  Overwhelming grace is the only phrase that I can think of to describe it. Obnoxious, or even appalling.

But grace….