St. Dismas

We know almost nothing about the life of Dismas before Calvary. No hometown, no family, no record of how he ended up on a Roman cross. What we know is this: at the end, when it mattered most, he turned to the man dying beside him and spoke the most extraordinary act of faith in all of Scripture.

The Cross

Three men were crucified together outside Jerusalem around 33 AD. Jesus of Nazareth hung in the center. On one side, a criminal mocked him: “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us.” On the other side, Dismas rebuked him.

“Do you not even fear God, 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.”

Then he turned to Jesus and spoke seven words that changed everything: “Jesus, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.”

Truly I say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise. — Jesus Christ (Luke 23:43)

Consider what Dismas saw when he looked at Jesus. Not a miracle worker surrounded by disciples. Not a king on a throne. He saw a man beaten beyond recognition, nailed to wood, mocked by the crowd, abandoned by nearly everyone who had followed him. And in that broken figure, Dismas recognized a King. He did not say if You come into Your kingdom. He said when.

Faith Without Evidence

Every other person who followed Jesus had reasons. They had seen the blind given sight, the lame walk, the dead raised. They had eaten bread multiplied from nothing. Dismas had none of that. He had only the sight of a dying man and something — call it grace, call it the movement of the Holy Spirit — that told him this was God.

St. John Chrysostom marveled at it: “Even on the cross, he did not forget his former cunning, but secured as his booty the kingdom of heaven.” The old thief made one last heist — and what he stole was Paradise.

The First Soul in Paradise

Dismas holds a distinction that belongs to no apostle, no prophet, no martyr who came after. He was the first human being to enter Paradise with Christ. Before the Resurrection. Before Pentecost. Before Peter preached his first sermon or Paul wrote his first letter. A convicted criminal heard the promise of heaven from Christ’s own lips — and received it that same day.

This is the great inversion at the heart of the Gospel: the last shall be first. The Kingdom is not earned by a lifetime of merit. It is received through grace and a repentant heart. Dismas had no time for works of charity, no opportunity for a life of virtue, no chance to be baptized. He had only a few hours of agony left. And it was enough.

There is one case of deathbed repentance recorded — that of the penitent thief — so that none need despair; and only one, so that none may presume. — Attributed to St. Augustine

A Presence Across Two Thousand Years

Dismas is not a footnote. In the Eastern Orthodox tradition, every single communicant invokes his example before receiving the Eucharist: “I will not speak of Thy Mystery to Thine enemies, neither like Judas will I give Thee a kiss; but like the thief will I confess Thee: Remember me, O Lord, in Thy Kingdom.” His words have been prayed billions of times across two millennia.

In the Catholic tradition, he is the patron saint of prisoners, the condemned, and the dying. Churches, hospitals, and prison ministries bear his name. His feast is celebrated on March 25 — the same day as the Annunciation, the day tradition holds Christ was both conceived and crucified.

His name, “Dismas,” comes from the apocryphal Gospel of Nicodemus, a fourth-century text that names the two thieves: Dismas the penitent and Gestas the impenitent. The name may derive from a Greek word meaning “dying” or “sunset” — fitting for a man whose last sunset opened into eternal day.

This is why his words belong on a billboard — because they are the simplest prayer ever spoken, and the most effective. Seven words. No theology, no credentials, no lifetime of preparation. Just a dying man asking to be remembered by a dying God — and hearing yes.