Luke 23

Luke 23 — Commentary and Meaning

The short answer

Luke 23 tells the story of Jesus' final hours: his trial before Pilate, a strange detour to Herod, the sentence of death, the crucifixion between two criminals, and his burial as the sabbath begins. On the surface, it is a chapter run by powerful men. Pilate questions, the chief priests accuse, Herod demands a spectacle, soldiers mock, and a crowd shouts for execution. Everyone with authority gets a speaking part.

Herod's scene (23:6-12) is telling. He has long wanted to see Jesus, hoping for a miracle on demand. Jesus gives him nothing—not a word. Herod dresses him in fine clothing as a joke and sends him back. It is royalty mocking royalty, a client-king playing with a prisoner. Luke lets the irony sit there quietly: the man in the borrowed robe is the one whose kingdom is real.

That irony comes to a point at the cross. The sign above Jesus reads "the King of the Jews," meant as ridicule. Rulers scoff, soldiers taunt, and one criminal joins in. But the other criminal, dying beside him, says something no one with power in this chapter says: "Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom." He asks not to be rescued, not even to be forgiven in so many words—just to be remembered. And Jesus answers with the chapter's most tender promise: "today you will be with me in Paradise."

Read this way, Luke 23 is not only a chapter about condemnation. It is a chapter about being remembered. Two voices cut through the noise of the trial and the mockery: a dying man's plea for care, and the crucified king who hears it. The people who think they are running the show turn out to be minor players in the scene they staged.

John Patton hears in the thief's petition the basic human cry for care—words, he notes, still spoken in hospital and nursing home corridors—and even a warrant for the ministry of caring for others. N. T. Wright, meanwhile, explains why Herod, for all his royal pretensions and his role in Luke 23:6-12, remains a minor player in the story.

““Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom” (Luke 23:42). Without really knowing what we were singing, many of those in my generation echoed those words as we sang the rhythmic spiritual, “Do Lord, O Do Lord, O Do Remember Me!” in youth groups many years ago. Only recently have I begun to realize how profound those simple words are. They represent the human need for care and, perhaps, the primary authorization for the ministry of pastoral care. They are not isolated words. The petition appears in many ways in scripture, but it also appears in the corridors of the hospital and nursing home: “Remember me, Reverend,” even from those who are hesitant to use the word prayer in their request.”

John Patton, Pastoral Care in Context Westminster John Knox Press. All rights reserved. More from Patton in Rebind →

“Jesus clearly indicates his contempt for Herod. Everyone knew, after all, that his only claim to royalty was because the Romans, recognizing his father as the most effective thug around, had promoted him from nowhere to keep order at the far end of their territories. Jesus also strongly affirms his own strange vocation: yes, he will eventually die at the hands of the authorities, but no, it won’t be in Galilee. Herod will have an indirect hand in it (Luke 23.6–12), but he remains a minor player.”

N. T. Wright, Luke for Everyone: 20th Anniversary Edition with Study Guide Westminster John Knox Press. All rights reserved. More from Wright in Rebind →

The thief's words are not ancient or exotic; they are the words most of us eventually say, in one form or another. "Remember me" is the cry of anyone in a hospital bed, a nursing home, a hard season—anyone afraid of being forgotten. Luke 23 says that cry is heard, and heard by someone who is himself suffering.

It also invites us to answer that cry in others. To visit, to sit with, to remember someone in their worst hour is to do what Jesus did from the cross. And it asks us to notice where real authority lies: not with the loudest voices in the room, but with the one who keeps his promises to the dying.

Luke 23 sits at the climax of Luke's Gospel. Chapter 22 ends in the dark: the last supper, the arrest in Gethsemane, Peter's denial, and a night of mockery. Chapter 23 moves through the daylight hours—Pilate's court, Herod's palace, the road to the cross, the crucifixion, Jesus' death, and his burial by Joseph of Arimathea. Chapter 24 opens at the empty tomb. So Luke 23 is the hinge between betrayal and resurrection, the chapter where every human power has its say before God has his.