It is Good Friday, and once again my mind wanders to that hill outside Jerusalem where three crosses stood like a grim exhibition of human judgement. On the middle cross hung Jesus, declared innocent by the very authority that sentenced Him. On either side were two thieves, properly labelled, properly condemned, properly placed.
And yet, in that strange courtroom of wood and nails, something remarkable happened.
One thief behaved exactly as expected. He mocked. He sneered. He joined the crowd below. It is always comforting to follow the majority, even when one is nailed to a bad decision.
But the other thief did something quite inconvenient. He thought.
Now thinking, as we all know, is a dangerous activity. It can get you into trouble. It can separate you from the crowd.
This thief looked at the man beside him and came to a conclusion that the educated, the powerful, and the religious had all missed. He recognised a good man.
Imagine the setting. Pain shooting through his body. Breath coming in short bursts. Life slipping away with every second. If ever there was a time to mind one’s own business, this was it. But no, this man chose that exact moment to speak up. Not about himself, but about another.
While the crowd shouted, “Crucify!” he quietly said, “This man has done nothing wrong.”
There is courage, and then there is this.
We, on the other hand, are far more practical. We wait for official statements. We check social media. We see which way the wind is blowing. If an institution points a finger, we nod wisely. If a government labels someone, we adjust our moral compass accordingly. After all, who wants to be on the wrong side of authority, especially when authority comes with microphones and press releases?
We have perfected the art of safe silence.
The tragedy is not that innocent people are punished. That has been happening for centuries. The real tragedy is that those who recognise innocence often choose convenience over courage.
That thief had nothing to gain. No future to secure. No reputation to protect.
He turned to Jesus and made a simple request, a desperate one, a sincere one. And the response he received was astonishing. “Today you shall be with me in paradise.”
No committee meeting. No background verification. Just a recognition of truth, rewarded instantly.
So here is the uncomfortable question this Good Friday.
When the world points and mocks, when the crowd gathers stones or words, when authority declares someone guilty, do we have the courage to pause, to think, and if needed, to stand up and say, “This man has done nothing wrong”?
Or will we, like the first thief, simply join the noise?
Because sometimes, recognising a good man is the bravest thing we can ever do…!
The Author conducts an online, eight session Writers and Speakers Course. If you’d like to join, do send a thumbs-up to WhatsApp number 9892572883 or send a message to bobsbanter@gmail.com
