Jesus remember me displayed by the cross of Dismas.
REMEMBER ME
Every year on November 11, we pause to remember those who served, suffered, and sacrificed during times of war. We remember because we believe their lives mattered, their sacrifices mattered, and their stories deserve to be told. We often hear the words, “Lest we forget.”
But remembrance isn’t only about those who have died. It’s also about those who are living.
Sometimes one of the greatest gifts we can give another person is simply to let them know they haven’t been forgotten.
The story of our namesake, Dismas is about his request to be remembered. We don’t know much about him. We don’t know his childhood, his family, or what circumstances brought him to that terrible moment. We know that he had been a criminal, and was condemned to die on a cross beside Jesus.
And yet, in those final moments of his life, he turned to Jesus and made a very simple request: “Lord, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.” (Luke 23:42, NKJV)
Think about those words for a moment.
He didn’t ask Jesus to change his circumstances. He didn’t try to convince Jesus that he was innocent. He didn’t even ask to be rescued from the cross. He simply asked to be remembered.
I wonder how many people in our world feel forgotten. People who have lost touch with family. People who feel invisible. People who believe that others see only their mistakes and never the person behind them.
And perhaps that’s one of the most beautiful things about our Dismas Fellowship.
We come together, not because we have perfect lives, but because we believe that every person matters. We remember one another. We learn each other’s names. We listen to each other’s stories. We notice when someone is missing.
And sometimes those little things mean more than we realize.
Jesus responded to that man’s request with a promise that went far beyond simply remembering him: “Assuredly, I say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise.”
The man asked to be remembered. Jesus promised him a place of belonging. Hopefully that’s something we offer one another as well. Not paradise, but a place where people are remembered, welcomed, and valued.
Reflection Question: Can you remember a time when someone made you feel that you mattered—that you hadn’t been forgotten?”