Who Am I?

A View from the Cross

The wood is rough against my exposed spine. Every splinter digs deeper with each labored breath. My wrists scream in agony as the iron tears through flesh and sinew. The crown of thorns – three-inch barbs driven deep into my skull – sends rivers of blood down my mangled face, mixing salt with the dust of Golgotha. This is me. This is you. This is us, suspended between heaven and earth, naked before God and man, with nothing left but our final words.

“And when they came to the place called The Skull, there they crucified Him and the criminals, one on the right and the other on the left.” (Luke 23:33)

I am the thief. You are the thief. We hang here in these final moments of human history, in this Great Basin of decision, where the mountains of Zion rise around us like the very hills that surrounded Jerusalem. Just as Tyler Robinson grew up in St. George, surrounded by red rock testimony to God’s creative power, we find ourselves surrounded by the majesty of His judgment and mercy. The desert wind carries both the sting of our rebellion and the whisper of His grace.

Who am I? Like you, I am the thief. I am utterly helpless. My hands, once capable of grasping what was not mine, now grasp nothing but pain. My feet, once swift to run toward sin, are now pierced and immobile. My voice, once used to curse and deceive, now barely manages a whisper through the crushing weight upon my chest.

“All of us like sheep have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; but the LORD has caused the iniquity of us all to fall on Him.” (Isaiah 53:6)

The man hanging between us – this Jesus – breathes differently than we do. While we gasp and fight for air, He somehow maintains a composure that defies human understanding. His eyes, though filled with physical agony, burn with something else entirely. Purpose. Love. Completion of a mission that began before time itself.

Through His eyes, I see what I truly am. Not the bold murderer who thought himself invincible, not the victim of circumstance I told myself I was, but a sheep who wandered so far from the fold that only the Shepherd’s own death could bring me home. In the Great Basin region where so many claim to know Him – where temples dot the landscape and religious activity fills the calendar – how many are like me, dying thieves who still don’t understand their true condition?

“But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8)

My fellow thief speaks first, his voice a rasp of desperation: “Are You not the Christ? Save Yourself and us!” I understand his cry. It echoes across every congregation, every prayer meeting, every moment of crisis. Save us from this pain. Deliver us from this consequence. Make our lives comfortable again. Give us what we want when we want it. But notice – he doesn’t acknowledge his sin, doesn’t recognize Jesus as Lord, doesn’t humble himself. He only wants relief.

How many in Zion cry out the same way? “God, fix my situation. Remove my discomfort. Give me prosperity. Bless my plans.” But where is the recognition of who He is? Where is the acknowledgment of who we are?

“The heart is more deceitful than all else and is desperately sick; who can understand it?” (Jeremiah 17:9)

But I… I am the other thief. In this moment, suspended between earth and eternity, the Spirit of God pierces through my darkness more surely than the nails pierce my flesh. I see Jesus not as a means to my comfort, but as my King. My Lord. My only hope.

“Do you not even fear God,” I whisper to my fellow condemned, “since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed are suffering justly, for we are receiving what we deserve for our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.”

“If we say that we have no sin, we are deceiving ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:8-9)

This is the moment of truth. The Feast of Trumpets approaches – that day when no man knows the hour, when the new moon will be spotted, when the trumpet will sound. Just as I hang here with my final breath, creation itself hangs at the edge of the Harpazo. What can I do to earn it? What works can I perform from this cross? What righteousness can I demonstrate while naked and dying?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, so that no one may boast.” (Ephesians 2:8-9)

All I can do is what I do now, with the last strength in my failing voice: “Jesus, remember me when You come in Your kingdom.” Not “Jesus, get me down from here.” Not “Jesus, make my life better.” Not “Jesus, serve my purposes.” But “Jesus, remember me when You come in YOUR kingdom.” I acknowledge His kingship. I acknowledge my need. I acknowledge that I have no claim on Him except His mercy.

Through Jesus’ eyes, I see the Father’s heart. This is why He came. Not to make our earthly lives comfortable, but to make us His eternal family. Not to serve our kingdoms, but to bring us into His. The physical agony He endures pales compared to the spiritual transaction taking place – He who knew no sin becoming sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.

“He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.” (2 Corinthians 5:21)

Today, in this Great Basin where religion is abundant but relationships are often scarce, we hang on the same cross. You who sit in comfortable pews, who perform religious rituals, who claim the name of Christ but live for your own kingdom – which thief are you? The one who wants Jesus to serve your comfort, or the one who surrenders to serve His glory?

The Mormon pioneers who settled this desert region understood something about leaving everything behind, about dying to the old life to embrace something new. But they, like so many of us, got distracted by adding to Scripture, denying Grace alone, and building their own kingdom instead of seeking His. The temples they built point to works, to ordinances, to human effort - ALL LIES. But here on the cross, I discover that salvation points only to Him, my King, Jesus. Remember me today when you enter your Kingdom.

“Jesus said to him, ‘Truly I say to you, today you shall be with Me in Paradise.’” (Luke 23:43)

Today. Not after I prove myself. Not after I complete some ordinance. Not after I become worthy. Today. Because He is worthy. Because His blood speaks better than the blood of Abel. Because the Father is satisfied with His sacrifice.

“Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (Romans 5:1)

Who am I? I am a justified sinner, not because of anything I have done, but because of everything He has done. I am sanctified, set apart for His purposes, not because of my holiness but because of His.

By His Grace alone I am being transformed into His image, not through my effort but through His Spirit working in me. And one day very soon – perhaps at this approaching Feast of Trumpets – I will be glorified, receiving a body like His resurrection body, not because I earned it but because He promised it.

“For those whom He foreknew, He also predestined to become conformed to the image of His Son, so that He would be the firstborn among many brethren; and these whom He predestined, He also called; and these whom He called, He also justified; and these whom He justified, He also glorified.” (Romans 8:29-30)

The trumpet is about to sound. Just as I hung here with my last breath to make my choice, you hang here with what may be your last opportunity. The comfortable Christianity of the Great Basin, the lukewarm faith that assumes God exists to be our life coach and to bless our plans – these are the voice of the first thief. “Save us from discomfort. Give us what we want.”

But the voice of the second thief echoes across the red rocks of Utah, across the valleys and peaks where so many claim His name: “Jesus, remember me when You come in Your kingdom.”

“So then because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will vomit you out of My mouth.” (Revelation 3:16)

The choice is before us. We hang here together, you and I, NAKED AND TOTALLY POWERLESS WITH BARELY ANY BREATH in these final moments before the Harpazo. We cannot save ourselves. We cannot stop the pain. We cannot prevent what is coming. But we can choose how to use our final words, our final breath, our final opportunity.

Will you be the thief who demands Jesus serve your comfort, who wants Him to fit into your plans, who sees Him as a means to your ends? Or will you be the thief who surrenders to Jesus' lordship, JESUS IS LORD, who acknowledges your desperate need, and who trusts in His faithfulness alone?

“And it shall come to pass that whoever calls on the name of the LORD shall be saved.” (Acts 2:21)

Through Jesus’ eyes, I see you there in St. George, in Salt Lake City, in every corner of the Great Basin. I see you in your churches and temples, in your comfortable homes and busy lives. But I also see you on this cross with me, because this is where truth is revealed. All our pretenses are stripped away. All our self-righteousness is exposed. All our self-sufficiency is shown to be an illusion.

We are the dying thieves. He is the dying Savior. The only difference is that His death was voluntary, substitutionary, and victorious. Ours is the inevitable result of our sin. But in Him, our death becomes the doorway to life.

“Truly, truly, I say to you, he who hears My word, and believes Him who sent Me, has eternal life, and does not come into judgment, but has passed out of death into life.” (John 5:24)

The Feast approaches. The trumpet will sound. Those who belong to Him will be caught up to meet Him in the air. But who belongs to Him? Not those who claim religious heritage. Not those who perform religious works. Not those who live in religious communities.

“Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father who is in heaven.” (Matthew 7:21)

Those who belong to Him are those who, like the repentant thief, acknowledge Him as King, confess their sin, and trust in His mercy alone. They are those who have died to their own kingdoms to live for His. They are those who understand that salvation is not about escaping discomfort but about surrendering to His lordship.

From this cross, through these dying eyes, I see the truth that transforms everything: Who am I? I am His sheep, and I know His voice. I am His child, adopted by His grace. I am His bride, purchased by His blood. I am His soldier, enlisted in His army. I am His witness, bearing testimony to His glory.

“But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, even to those who believe in His name.” (John 1:12)

But I am also the thief who deserved death and received life. I am the sinner who earned condemnation and received justification. I am the rebel who merited wrath and received mercy. This is who I am – not because of who I was, but because of who He is.

The crown of thorns on His head was mine. The stripes on His back were mine. The nails in His hands and feet were mine. The spear in His side was mine. He took what I deserved so I could receive what He deserved.

“But He was pierced through for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the chastening for our well-being fell upon Him, and by His scourging we are healed.” (Isaiah 53:5)

As my breath grows shorter, as the pain intensifies, as death approaches, I understand something that all the religious activity in the world cannot teach: Grace is not just unmerited favor – it is God giving us the opposite of what we deserve while taking what we deserve upon Himself.

The Great Basin stretches out below us, a testament to both God’s glory and man’s need. The red rocks speak of the blood that was shed. The vast desert speaks of the spiritual wasteland of the human heart. But the mountains that surround it all speak of the unchanging faithfulness of our God.

“I will lift up my eyes to the mountains; from where shall my help come? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth.” (Psalm 121:1-2)

Tyler Robinson grew up seeing these mountains daily. How many times did he lift his eyes to them without understanding what they declared? How many in Zion do the same – surrounded by the testimony of God’s majesty yet missing the message of their desperate need for His mercy?

The Feast of Trumpets comes with the new moon. No man knows the day or the hour, but the season is upon us. Just as I hang here between life and death, you hang between decision and consequence. The trumpet will sound. The dead in Christ will rise. Those who are alive and remain will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air.

“For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive and remain will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we shall always be with the Lord.” (1 Thessalonians 4:16-17)

But who will be caught up? Those who, like the repentant thief, have acknowledged Jesus as King and trusted in His mercy alone. Not those who have built their own religious kingdoms. Not those who have trusted in their works, their heritage, their ordinances, their goodness.

The choice remains before you. As I breathe my last breath on this cross, as Jesus prepares to commend His spirit to the Father, as the veil of the temple prepares to tear from top to bottom, I leave you with this final testimony:

Who am I? I am a sinner saved by grace, justified by faith, sanctified by His Spirit, and destined for glory – not because of anything in me, but because of everything in Him. I am the thief who found paradise not through escape from the cross, but through surrender upon it.

“And He said to them all, ‘If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross daily and follow Me.’” (Luke 9:23)

The trumpet is about to sound. The Bridegroom comes for His bride. The King returns for His kingdom. The Shepherd calls for His sheep. Which thief will you be?

Choose today. Choose now. Choose Him.

“Choose for yourselves today whom you will serve… but as for me and my house, we will serve the LORD.” (Joshua 24:15)

“Behold, now is ‘THE ACCEPTABLE TIME,’ behold, now is ‘THE DAY OF SALVATION.’” (2 Corinthians 6:2)

Jesus, remember us when You come in Your kingdom.

Today, He says, "You will be with us in Paradise!"

“Even so, come, Lord Jesus.” (Revelation 22:20)