March 15

March 15, 2009

The Cross of Christ: It Should Have Been Mine
a sermon on Isaiah 53.4-6 & 1 Peter 3.18
by David C. Mauldin
Westminster Presbyterian Church, Mobile, Alabama

“I’m not good enough.” The young woman’s voice broke and her eyes misted with tears reluctant to fall. “God can’t really love me because he sees who I really am, and I am not good.” She believed in God. She wanted to be a Christian. The Christians she knew, however, were pretty good people. They probably had faults, she figured, but if so she couldn’t see them. They were gracious, kind, and loving to her. This was a new experience; she wasn’t used to being treated that way. She wanted to be one of them. But she felt she was not like them. She feared that if they knew what she was really like, they wouldn’t want her around. And unlike these kind but near-sighted Christians, their God could see her heart. She was sure there was no way he could love her. On the way home from a Bible study, a friend had asked her if she had ever thought about becoming a follower of Jesus. As they talked she admitted she liked Jesus. She believed the right things. What held her back was not her head but her heart. She had a rough past, and she knew her own heart too well. She just didn’t have what it takes. God might love some people, but not someone like her.

Meanwhile, across town, a church member facing major surgery was confessing to his pastor that he was afraid to die. “I’ve tried to live right,” he said. “I’m almost always in church. I give. I volunteer. I’ve done my best to do what God wants, and I’ve never broken any of the big commandments. … The trouble is, how do I know it’s enough? What if there were things God wanted me to do that I didn’t? … I might die tomorrow. I afraid God won’t accept me. Can you help me be sure?”

This sermon marks the half-way point in our series on the cross. During Lent this year I am preaching about Jesus’ death for us. Why did he have to die? How does his death save us? Scripture offers at least five answers to this question, but before I go into them, I want to point out that you are saved because Jesus died for you, not because you can explain how it works. In other words, you do not have to understand everything scripture says about the cross in order to be saved. Jesus died for you, and that is enough. I take the trouble to explain the cross, and you take the trouble to understand it, so that you might love Jesus more and grow in your faith.

Alister McGrath tells a story that illustrates this point: When he was a boy, he got a serious infection and had to see the doctor. The doctor prescribed penicillin. McGrath took the medicine, and it worked. He had no idea how it worked, but it did. He got well. Later, as a university student he studied biochemistry, and he learned how penicillin works. He remembered his experience as a boy and reflected that penicillin works whether you understand how or not. The cross is like that.

Jesus died for you. His death and resurrection mean you can be forgiven, you can be right with God, you can be God’s own dear adopted child, and you can share eternal life with him. You do not have to understand how the cross works in order to gain any of these benefits. You only have to trust Christ. So … if these sermons leave you with unanswered questions, or if you feel you just don’t understand enough, do not worry! My purpose in these sermons is to help you appreciate the cross and love Jesus more. I am not prepping you for a theology exam, and certainly not one you have to pass to enter the pearly gates. These sermons aim as much for your heart as your head, because I want you to appreciate the beauty of Jesus’ sacrifice for you.

How does Jesus’ death save us? You have heard two answers already: Jesus set an example for us to follow. He gave his life as a ransom for many. Both these answers have severe limitations, which I mentioned. Instead of limitations on the last three, I am going to talk about the human need each one meets. Jesus was our substitute, taking the punishment that should have been ours, so the cross meets our need to deal with guilt. God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself, so the cross meets our need to be loved. And, on the cross Jesus triumphed over sin, death, and evil; so the cross meets our need to be free from fear.

This sermon considers Jesus as our substitute. He took the punishment that should have been ours. He paid the debt we owed, because we could not. Because he took our place, we are off the hook. We are righteous. We are innocent. We are clean.

The cross thus meets one of our greatest needs. It deals with our guilt. The cross has two effects on us. The first is objective. Without Christ, we stand before God guilty. We have all sinned. Of our own volition we have brought upon ourselves God’s rightful judgment. We are not fit for heaven, and if we are honest with ourselves, we know it. This is a big problem. We leave God no choice but to condemn us. We really are guilty. We have to pay. But, what if our judge, after sentencing us, bears the punishment himself? The wages of sin is death, according to the Bible. What if he died for us? He did, and as a result, we stand before the judgment seat of God, and he calls out, “Not guilty!” and slams down his gavel. And just like that we are off the hook. The cross changes our objective standing before God, from guilty and condemned to righteous and free.

The second effect the cross has on us is subjective. Some people seem to feel no remorse for the evil things they do. That lack of conscience is a terrible curse. Most of us, however, when we hurt the people we love do feel guilty. Because the cross takes away our objective guilt, it can also set us free from our feelings of guilt. This is something the young woman I described at the beginning of the sermon needs to experience. Does God see her as good? No. Is she worthy of his love? No. None of us are! Not one! But he loves us anyway. Not because we are loveable, but because he is loving. Christ died for her. He died for you too. He bore our guilt and shame. He gave us his righteousness. That’s grace. We are not good, but he saves us anyway, and he makes us good. Before God is through with that young woman, she will become a creature more beautiful than anything in this world. That’s her destiny in Christ, to become like him. It happens because of God’s grace, and through the power of the death and resurrection of Jesus. Jesus took her guilt and shame. She can be, in Christ, a new creation.

The man I described needs to understand grace too. Will God accept or reject him based on how good he’s been? Of course not. He’s just like the young woman, although perhaps he’s lived a bit cleaner. His standing before God, like hers, depends on Jesus Christ. Jesus died for him. Jesus bore his guilt and shame. He has nothing to fear when he meets God. Of course God will welcome him home. As Paul brilliantly asks in Romans, if God loves us so much that Christ died for us, what do we have to worry about?

Jesus is our substitute. The basic plot of this answer works like this: God establishes justice. He is holy, so he is determined to make things right. He puts up with our sin for a little while, in the hope we will turn to him. But he won’t let the world run on like this forever, nor will he let us get away with anything. God is not mocked. You reap what you sow.

Well, why can’t God just forgive our sin? Why does Jesus have to die? Because sin is more serious than we realize. There are always consequences. Rather than get into this too deeply, let me just ask: Would Christ have died if it were not necessary? No. So what does that tell us about our need? Our need is great, and grace is costly. Let us not forget that.

Because we have rebelled against God, and because our rebellion has consequences, we deserve punishment. The wages of sin is death. Eternal separation from God is the bed we have made. Thank God we don’t have to lie in it. Why not?

Because God loves us and wants to free us from this fate. He created us for himself, so that he might love us and we might love him. This is what he wants for us—life and love without limit. Soooo … he pays the penalty himself. He suffers the consequences. By doing this he does the two things he is determined to do: He establishes justice. Justice is served. And … he extends mercy to us. God is righteous and good. He would not be if he let sin go unpunished. At the same time, he is love and therefore unwilling to turn his back on us in our need, self-inflicted though it is.

Jesus is our substitute. This answer comes from two places, the sacrificial system of the Old Testament and the law court.

In the Old Testament, God prescribed animal sacrifices offered at the tabernacle and later at the temple. This idea was this: Sin comes between God and his people. It contaminates them. It must be dealt with. The wages of sin is death, but the guilty party may offer a substitute. This could be a bull, a ram, or a goat, depending on the occasion and the type of offering. The sins of the people were transferred to the animal, which then died in their place.

“Well,” you wonder, “if sheep and goats did the trick, why did Jesus have to die?” Because sheep and goats never did the trick. God never forgave his people because they offered sheep and goats. He forgave them because Jesus would die for them. The cross was future to them; it is past to us. But they and we are saved the same way, by grace because of Jesus’ death for us. The sacrificial system did two things: it made God’s people aware of the seriousness of sin, and it pointed ahead toward Christ. John’s gospel has Jesus dying on the cross while the Passover lambs were being slaughtered. Why? Because Jesus is the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. Whenever you are reading scripture or singing hymns and you find a reference to Jesus as the lamb or to the Old Testament sacrificial system, this is the answer it is talking about—Jesus is our substitute.

The other background for this answer is the law court. I have explained how this works. You are guilty, but the judge bears your punishment. The result is, you are found not guilty. Whenever you run across the word justified—Paul uses this word a lot—that’s what it means: you are declared “not guilty.” If you’ve ever been in serious trouble, you know how good that feels.

Jesus is our substitute. This answer was inevitable. After Jesus resurrection, when his friends were struggling to understand the cross, they turned to the Old Testament. Jesus himself pointed them in this direction. Remember the walk to Emmaus? On the first Easter Sunday, two followers met Jesus as they were walking to Emmaus. They did not recognize him at first. When they expressed their sadness over his death, he pointed to the Old Testament and said, “Don’t you understand the Messiah had to suffer these things?” And he explained it to them. Jesus was an Isaiah guy. That is, the book of Isaiah formed an important part of his self-understanding. He read these verses about the Suffering Servant, and he said, “Hey, this is talking about me!” He taught his followers to understand his death this way. How powerful and moving these words are when we hear them with the cross in mind: “He was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed. … All we like sheep have gone astray; we have all turned to our own way, and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.”

Once a high official from Ethiopia was reading these very words as he rode in his chariot. God put Philip in his path, and the man asked Philip, “What does this mean? Who is this about?” And Philip told him about Jesus, who died so that we might live.

The verse from 1 Peter I threw in for free. When it says, “the righteous for the unrighteous,” we are reminded that Jesus was innocent, but he bore our guilt. He was clean, but he took our stain. He did not deserve to die, but he took our place. An ironic scene in the passion narrative makes the same point. Pilate is looking for a way to let Jesus off, probably not because he cares about either justice or Jesus but he had an on-going feud with the religious authorities. So he brings out Barabbas, who was a rebel, a brigand, a criminal everyone knew deserved to die. And he stands him beside Jesus, and he says, “I’ll let one of these men go. Whom shall I release for you?” And the crowd chants, “Give us Barabbas!” Barabbas is clearly guilty. Jesus is clearly innocent. Jesus’ death means Barabbas goes free. Jesus death means you and I go free as well.

Jesus is our substitute. I am not going to identify a weakness with this answer, but I am going to warn you of a danger. Christianity teaches that Jesus is God. As long as you hold on to this vital truth, the answer “Jesus is our substitute,” reveals the cross as a beautiful expression of God’s love. Our judge paid the fine out of his own pocket. God suffered the consequences of our wrongdoing so we would not have to.

But … if you lose sight of the basic fact that Jesus is God, the cross becomes ugly. Because then the judge makes an innocent third party take the punishment we deserve. It is one thing if he takes it on himself, quite another if he makes some other innocent person take it. Imagine this in a local court. Imagine a judge felt compassion for a defendant, but the law compelled him to find the defendant guilty and impose a fine. The judge sentenced him, but then stepped down off the bench, got out his wallet, and paid the fine himself—we would admire such a judge and consider his action noble. If, however, instead of getting out his own wallet, he pointed at random to someone sitting in the courtroom and told that person to pay the fine—we would not think much of him as either a judge or a human being. If Jesus is not God, then substitution presents the cross as a mean, vindictive God intent on punishing somebody taking out his wrath on poor, innocent, loving Jesus. Jesus is good; God is bad. That doesn’t work, does it? Of course not. Jesus and the Father are One. They have the same character. They are never opposed like that, as if the Father wants justice and Jesus wants mercy. They both want justice. They both want mercy. On the cross God showed his love for us by taking our place. The Son did not suffer alone on the cross. The Father and the Spirit suffered too.

This is why the answer “Jesus is our substitute” has never been popular with liberal theologians. A few have called he cross “child abuse,” as if God sent someone else to pay the price. No, Jesus is God. He is fully human and fully divine. On the cross he represented humanity. As the only innocent human being, he took the punishment the rest of us deserved. But he did so because he was God. If you lose sight of that, this answer falls apart fast.

Jesus is our substitute. What difference does this understanding of the cross make in our everyday lives? Very quickly, four things:

1. God is worthy of reverence and praise. Why? Because he both establishes justice and extends mercy. When someone wrongs you, you want good to triumph. You want justice. When you wrong someone, you want mercy. You can have it both ways! Because of his goodness and his grace, God deserves your praise. So praise him!

2. Grace is costly. When you reflect on the terrible price Jesus paid for your sin, you should be motivated to do better. God does not just wave a hand and say, “Forget about it. It was nothing.” Our guilt is not nothing. What you do matters.

3. Because Jesus is our substitute, we are secure. You do not have to worry, “Am I good enough?” It simply doesn’t matter. You never have to wonder, “Does God really love me?” If Jesus died for you, the answer is obviously yes. He wouldn’t go through all that if he didn’t intend to give you all that he has promised. If you ever start to wonder and worry about your eternal destiny, look to the cross. Ask yourself, “Is the sacrifice Jesus offered for me enough?” … You know the answer.

4. Love God. The letter we call 1 John says, “We love because he first loved us.” When the grace of God overwhelms you, you can’t help but love him back. Not only him, you discover in your heart a love he gives you for other people. Once I was traveling in a city I didn’t think much of. I just didn’t like it. I didn’t care much for the people. Then one stranger touched me with an act of kindness, and my whole attitude changed. When you are loved as deeply as Jesus loved you on the cross, you are changed. All of life will never be the same.

Jesus is our substitute. The cross should have been mine, but he loved me too much. Amen.

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