Editor’s note: For more than 20 years, Father Raymond de Souza has preached the “Seven Last Words” devotion, a traditional meditation on the seven times Jesus speaks from the cross on Good Friday. Made famous in recent times by the Venerable Fulton J. Sheen, the meditations are usually organized around a particular theme. For 2025, Father de Souza chose the Nicene Creed as his theme, as the Catholic Church marks this year the 1,700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea. These meditations were preached at Holy Cross parish in Kemptville, Ontario, where Father de Souza is the pastor. This is the second installment. Please find the first one here. 

^“One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, ‘Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!’ But the other rebuked him, saying, ‘Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed justly; for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.’ And he said, ‘Jesus, remember me when you come in your kingdom.’ And he said to him, ‘Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise’” (Luke 23:39-43).

The second word from the cross, the second time Jesus speaks from the cross, he promises paradise to the Good Thief, the one we call St. Dismas.

It is astonishing to consider that, on that first Good Friday, the first one saved — perhaps to the astonishment of the great figures of the Old Covenant — was this thief, this criminal, hanging there beside Jesus. The two thieves are having a debate, really, having a debate about who Jesus is and who the Christ is. The first thief, observing this man whom others have called the Christ, says, “If you are the Christ, then save us. Save yourself and us.”

We judge negatively that first thief when we call the second one the “good thief.” That implies that the other is the “bad thief” and colors how we think about him. 

He is asking Jesus to do something for him. Save me! Many others have asked Jesus for favors. There is something more at work here, though, for he says, “If you are the Christ …”

Christ means the “Anointed One.” The oil we use to anoint someone at confirmation or in holy orders is called “chrism.” We could say “anointing oil.” 

The “Anointed One” should not be there hanging on the cross. That’s why the first thief says “if.” The Old Testament declares that “accursed is anyone who hangs on a tree” (Deuteronomy 21:23). How can the Christ be accursed?

Crucifixion is not only cruel, it was biblically repugnant. It was designed to humiliate and to degrade as well as to be very painful. The Jews additionally recoiled because to hang on a tree is to be accursed. St. Paul would quote Deuteronomy himself (Galatians 3:13), and then be so bold as to preach “Christ crucified” (1 Corinthians 1:23). To say “Christ crucified” is to say the “anointed cursed” — the anointed one is the cursed one; the one blessed is the one cursed. It’s a contradiction.

The “bad thief” wanted something to be done for him, namely to get him off the cross. That is a completely understandable request. There is, though, something more. Perhaps he is asking, after a fashion: “Are you not the Christ? Are you not the Anointed One? If you are the Anointed One, then this cannot be.”

Something must have gone wrong and needs to be urgently corrected. The Anointed One of God does not end up hanging on a tree. Something has gone wrong here, and this would be a good time to fix it! It is not a foolish point, and in the debate between the two thieves, it is a point that needs to be answered.

The Good Thief speaks, rebuking the other one, saying, “Do you not fear God?”

Perhaps he is thinking: “If this is God’s plan, if this is God’s providence, why challenge it, particularly given our circumstance? We don’t have good standing, hanging here on the cross, to challenge this.”

The Good Thief goes further still. He enters the debate about what it means to be anointed, about who is the Christ. He accepts, again after a fashion, that it is possible for the anointed to be accursed, hanging on a tree. He says, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

He doesn’t call him, strictly speaking, “the Christ,” but recognizes him as a king who has a kingdom. He implies that there is a heavenly kingdom, because at that moment hanging on those crosses, it does not appear that any earthly throne is available. The Good Thief accepts that it is possible for a king to be crucified. It is possible to say “Christ crucified.” Implicitly, it is possible to have God hanging on a tree. 

That debate is not only between the two thieves in the 23rd Chapter of St. Luke. The 19th Chapter of St. John mentions the two thieves, but it speaks about other parties to the same debate. 

“There they crucified him and with him two others, one on either side and Jesus between them. Pilate also wrote a title and put it on the cross. It read: ‘Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.’ Many of the Jews read this title, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city, and it was written in Hebrew, in Latin, and in Greek. The chief priests of the Jews then went to Pilate and said, do not write ‘the King of the Jews,’ but ‘This man said, I am King of the Jews.’ Pilate answered, ‘What I have written, I have written’” (John 19:18-22).

It’s the same debate: The chief priests are saying that Jesus cannot be the King of the Jews; kings don’t hang on crosses. It would be a contradiction in terms. But Pilate wrote what he did. He accepts the contradiction in a personal way. He has permitted, even ordered the crucifixion, but is willing to admit the possibility that Jesus is a king. Pilate wrote as he wrote, and to this day our crucifixes usually have the Latin letters INRI: Iesus Nazarenus Rex Iudaeorum — Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.

The question reverberates throughout history. Even today among Christians, not so much doctrinally as much as psychologically, the question arises: Do we want a strong God, a powerful God? If we do, this crucified God doesn’t look like the one we desire. God is strong. God does not suffer. 

That question is subsequent to another question: Is it possible to have an incarnate God? 

It’s more obvious to say that Christ on the cross seems like a contradiction. But that is really an extension of a prior question, which is, can God, all-powerful, in the fullness of his divine majesty, be united to a human nature? Does that seem fitting? Is it possible? And even if it is possible, because God is omnipotent, why would he desire that? Even though they share some common beliefs about God with us, both Jews and Muslims would say, with coherence and consistency, we reject that. If God is God, he cannot be man.

The entirety of the Gospels is exploring that question in one way or the other: Who is this Jesus? At the moment of the trial before the Sanhedrin, the climax comes as they ask him: Who are you? Are you the Christ? And Jesus answered, “I AM” — the divine name — and “you will see me coming on the clouds of heaven” (Mark 14:61-62).

That is the debate. Is it possible to have an incarnate God? That debate divided the Christian world in the fourth century. On one side were those who said: Jesus is God, just as the Father is God and the Holy Spirit is God. On the other side, associated with a man, a bishop, a very senior bishop named Arius, said that is just not possible: Only God is God; God cannot also be a man. 

They did not wish to denigrate Jesus. They gave him great praise and exaltation, but not recognition as divine. This was a great division because it matters a great deal whether Jesus is God or not.

Historically, the Emperor Constantine took power in the early part of the fourth century, then legalized Christianity and eventually favored it. He moved his capital east from Rome to Constantinople (Istanbul today). This question — the “Arian controversy” — was threatening to divide his territories. He decided that it must be resolved, and he called together all the bishops in a council. It was the first time they had done that; that was the Council of Nicaea in 325, the 1,700th anniversary of which we observe. 

They resolved the controversy, rejecting the position of Arius. It was resolved in the very words we use in the Nicene Creed: Jesus is God. We profess that he is Lord, that he is God. He is the only-begotten Son of God. He exists, born of the Father, before all ages, outside of time. He is eternal as God. To remove all doubt, we proclaim: “God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God.”

It is a challenge for us to think this way, because in the human order of things, if one thing comes from the other — God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God — whichever thing came first must exist beforehand. But in eternity, if God is outside of time, then the two exist outside of time, where there is no before or after. 

Consider asking any man when he became a father. The answer is, “I became a father when I had a son.” The father exists before the son, that is true. But he only comes into being as a father at the moment that the son exists, because it is a relationship. Until the son exists, the father cannot exist as a father. This applies to God all the more so. God is always the Father, which means that the Son always had to exist.

We use a technical term in the Nicene Creed for that, “consubstantial.” It means “of the same substance.” “Substance” is a philosophical word that means “essence.” It’s not exactly the same, but more or less. The same substance, the same kind of thing, the same nature, the same essence, the same divinity. The Arian controversy was resolved.

The debate in Luke 23 and John 19 is resolved. God can be incarnate. As the creed goes on to say, “He was crucified under Pontius Pilate.” He suffered. He died. He was buried.

That is all possible for the one who is God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, who now speaks from the cross.

The thieves on their crosses did not have time for lengthy debate. The chief priests and Pilate did not have the philosophical and biblical depth to resolve it, but the Council of Nicaea did.

Today you will be with me in paradise. The Good Thief has his request granted. In a way perhaps not fully understood by the first thief, the “bad thief,” his request too was granted. He said to Jesus: “Save yourself and us.” In fact, that is exactly what Jesus was doing on the cross, Christ crucified.