Maundy Thursday Christ Died for

Maundy Thursday

Christ Died for the Ungodly—This Means You! a Maundy Thursday sermon on Romans 5.1-11 by David C. Mauldin Westminster Presbyterian Church, Mobile, Alabama

When John tells us about Jesus’ last supper with his disciples, he doesn’t mention anything about the Lord’s Supper. No mention of bread. No mention of the cup. John has already tipped his hat to the Christian celebration of the Lord’s Supper back in chapter 6 where Jesus calls himself “the bread of heaven.” Instead, when John describes what Jesus did on that Thursday night so long ago, he emphasizes something no other gospel writer tells us: Jesus washed his disciples’ feet.

Foot washing was necessary in that culture, but it was a menial task assigned to the least important person in a household, often a slave. When Jesus took the bowl and towel, no doubt his disciples were stunned. As usual, Simon Peter was the one who said what everyone else was thinking. He asked Jesus not to wash his feet. Ah, Peter! How much every one of us is like him! So certain of the way things ought to be. So sure of ourselves and what God ought to be doing. How foolishly wrong.

All the gospels tell how Peter, on the night Jesus was betrayed, swore to stand beside him no matter what. Jesus warned Peter that before the cock’s crow, Peter would deny Jesus three times. Peter was incredulous. Not he! Surely he of all the disciples would stand firm.

When Jesus ate the Passover meal with his disciples on the night before his death, he used the bread and the sup to explain the significance of his death. They didn’t get it. Not at the time, anyway. He had to rise from the dead and explain it again before they really understood. His death was part of God’s plan. Through it, God would rescue the world from sin and death, just as he had rescued Israel from slavery in Egypt back when the Passover first started. Jesus’ body would be broken. His blood would be shed for the forgiveness of sins.

The cross was the height of grace, and the disciples may have missed the point because they were not looking for grace. Peter was not. Because it was improper for Jesus to wash his feet, he didn’t want it done. And he was sure he could be faithful enough to earn Jesus’ respect and gratitude. It took Jesus’ warning that unless Jesus washed his feet then Peter had no part in him, as well as Peter’s crushing failure in the courtyard of the high priest, to open Peter to grace. A humbler, more grateful Peter accepted Jesus’ forgiveness later on.

I am preaching about grace tonight. This for a couple of good reasons. First, I think we tend naturally to be like the Peter of the last supper. We are ready to accept whatever Jesus’ offers, but we are absolutely certain we have something to give him. Second, I find even within the church widespread confusion about how we are saved. By saved I mean put right with God and assured eternal life. How do we know God will accept us when we die and face his judgment? Many people believe God will put all our deeds on a scale. If the good outweighs the bad, then he welcomes you. If not, you go to hell. Others think it is a matter of doing good but that we also need Jesus to erase the bad. If he can just get me loose from some of the guilt that is holding me back, my good deeds will be sufficient to win God’s favor. Both these thoughts are wrong!

One thing—and one thing only—puts us right with God. That is Jesus’ death on our behalf. Nothing else can do it. Nothing can add anything to what Jesus has already done. Nothing else counts at all. What he did for you on the cross is enough. We are not saved by our own moral goodness, nor by our own moral goodness plus grace. We are saved by grace alone.

Our passage in Romans says, “Since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.” Justified means “put right with God.” Justified means God has already passed judgment on you and declared you not guilty. Justified is what you want to be.

And it happens by faith. What does this mean? That if we just believe certain things about Jesus then we have nothing to worry about? Not quite. Faith includes believing, but it is more than that. Faith also includes trust. You believe the Good News about Jesus—that he died for you and rose again and now invites you to follow him. You trust God’s promises. And so you look to Christ for grace and mercy. That’s faith. Faith is how we cling to Christ. He saves us—not our faith. But our faith is how he gives himself to us.

Faith is lively. It is not just something you do with your mind. You do it with your heart, soul, and strength as well. We are saved by Christ, and he comes to us by faith. So we believe in him, we trust him, we look to him alone for our hope of eternal life; and because of him we have peace with God.

Clinging to Christ in faith means you cannot put any trust in your own goodness, but letting go of the idea that God owes us is a hard thing to do. We tend to be like Peter. We want Jesus, but we are sure we have something to give. We are sure we are worthy of his respect. Peter probably assumed Jesus chose him to be a disciple because Jesus recognized Peter’s strength and loyalty. The truth was, Jesus chose Peter even though he recognized his weakness, just because he loved him. It is the same with us.

I have been reading a bit lately in the journals of John Wesley. Sometimes they can be funny when he doesn’t intend it (and Wesley was so serious I doubt he ever intended to be funny). Wesley was already a clergyman when he came to understand salvation by grace. For years he had tried to be worthy of God’s grace by shunning evil and doing good. He was moral and devout, but he lacked one thing: assurance. He was plagued by doubts about God’s love. Travel was dangerous back then, much more than today, and when he crossed the Atlantic and on some of his travels in Georgia, he was often in danger of losing his life. It terrified him. It terrified him because deep down he was not sure God would welcome him into eternal life. He longed for assurance, but it was out of his reach.

Then, of course, he had that experience of his heart being strangely warmed as he listened to someone reading Martin Luther; and he knew God had forgiven him. The love of God because real to him, and he knew what Jesus had done was enough.

That’s not the funny part. The funny part is that he went around preaching in different churches. Over and over and over again in his journal he makes a comment such as, “I preached at such and such a place today. They told me never to come back.” Or, “I preached here today, they tell me for the last time.” Church after church invited him never to preach there again. He never says exactly why, but if you read between the lines, you can figure it out.

I think one of the main reasons was he offended people by preaching grace. His manner and tone no doubt played a part, but I suspect his message was unwelcome. We usually find grace assuring. Whenever I preach on grace, people are always positive. Why would they be offended? Because he told well-educated, moral, church-going people that they were sinners and needed a Savior.

Our scripture reading says, “Christ died for the ungodly.” It does not say, “Christ died for the immoral.” Christ did die for the immoral, but the immoral is a smaller category than the ungodly. Some people are moral, and others are not. All are ungodly. Try preaching that to a congregation without offending anyone.

Think about it. A drug-dealing gangster who has killed three people obviously needs a Savior. What about the kind, well-mannered middle-class Presbyterian pastor who is scrupulous and conscientious in his responsibilities? Does he need a Savior? Of course he does. The moral person is as much a sinner in his morality as the immoral person is in his immorality. That sounds ridiculous, I know, but stay with me.

Wesley was big on living a holy life. I am too, but we will come to that. One day a man tried to convince him that there are no unholy people and no holy people, but inside all people are alike. Here is what Wesley wrote:

I was at first in doubt, what would lead a man of sense into so wonderful [he means bizarre] an opinion. But that doubt was soon cleared. He had narrowly observed those whom the world called good men, and could not but discern, that the difference between them and others was merely external; their tempers, their desires, their springs of action were the same. He clearly saw, although one man was a thief, a common swearer, a drunkard, and another not; although this woman was a liar, a prostitute, a Sabbath-breaker, and the other clear of these things; yet they were both lovers of pleasure, lovers of praise, lovers of the present world. He saw self-will was the sole spring of action in both, though exerting itself in different ways: And that the love of God no more filled and ruled the heart of the one, than of the other. [Journal, Dec. 13, 1739]

The bottom line: Some of us are more moral than others, but all of us are ungodly and need a Savior.

You may be thinking: “What’s all this business about Wesley? We aren’t Methodists. We’re Presbyterians!” True, I could quote John Calvin. He was more insistent on this point than even Wesley. Calvin considered any human confidence before God to be delusional—confidence in our own holiness, that is. He rails against it on page after page. I’ll give you just one little line: “By God’s mercy alone we stand, since by ourselves we are nothing but evil” [Institutes, 2.2.11].

But why bother even with Calvin. I should go straight to the source: Jesus. On Monday of Holy Week, Jesus was in the Temple, arguing with the chief priests and elders of the people. He told them a parable. A father had two sons. One day he asked them to work in his vineyard. One son refused, but later he repented and did what his father wanted. The other agreed, but never did. Jesus asked them, “Which one did the will of his Father?” They said, “The one who did what the Father wanted.” Then Jesus told them, “The tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you” [Mt 21.31]. Why? The tax collectors and prostitutes believed the Good News, but the priests and elders did not. How’s that for offensive preaching! Can you imagine Jesus telling the holiest, most important, most respected religious authorities of his day that tax collectors and prostitutes were entering the kingdom ahead of them? No wonder they conspired to kill him. I’ll bet people were talking about that all over town.

My point in all this is simple: We are saved by grace. Your eternal destiny depends on what Jesus did for you on the cross. You can have forgiveness and eternal life through faith in him. But, because this is true, your trust should be in him alone, not in your own goodness. If you think, “God will have an easy time accepting me because I am more acceptable than most,” then you are like the old Peter. Some people are insecure about God’s love. They need the message of grace. Others have a false security in themselves, and they need the message of grace too. They generally do not appreciate it as much as that first group does, but they need it anyway.

Before we move on I need to clear something up or someone is sure to trip over it. Since we are all ungodly, and we are saved by grace, and our morality does not put us right with God—am I saying it does not matter whether you are moral or immoral? Not at all! God wants you to be moral and good and kind. Immorality is like poison for your soul. Don’t do it! I had to point out that it is possible to act moral while your heart is far from God. What God wants is good behavior flowing out of a heart filled with love for God. Think back to my sermons on Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. Remember how Jesus took Old Testament commandments and made keeping them a matter of the heart? Murder is bad, but hating someone is just as bad. The murder and the hater both need a Savior. Neither can stand before God and claim God owes them something because they are holy. Both need a new heart and a new way of life.

How you live makes a big difference. That’s why Jesus told his disciples to “love one another as I have loved you.” It is important to remember the place of holiness in the Christian life. God does not make us his children because we are holy. He does this just because he loves us. “While we were sinners, Christ died for us.” But, we are to be holy because we are his children. Our scripture says, “God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” Once God’s love has been poured into your heart, you cannot be the same.

This is true of faith too. Faith is lively. You cannot have faith without it showing up in how you act.

Once you experience God’s life-changing grace, you will love God and you will never be the same. Again, look at Peter. After Jesus forgave him, he became everything he wanted to be and thought he was before. He was a fearless witness for Christ.

Very well, I have warned you sufficiently. Let me move toward a conclusion by reminding you that when God calls you to faith … and holy living … and service to others in his name—when he calls you to these three things, it is not three calls but one. When God calls you, he simply calls your name … “David” … ______ … ______ … [insert your name here]. He calls your name and that one little word is enough. When you hear it you know right away that you are loved, that you need a Savior, that he is right there for you, and that he is going to change you forever. When I talk about God’s call, I specify faith, holy living, and ministry in order to help people hear and answer their call. But it is only one call.

I love Maundy Thursday because of the intimacy with Jesus. What is more intimate than close friends gathered around a table? Whoever you are, your hope is in Jesus. The significance of Maundy Thursday is: he gives himself to you. He gave himself for you on the cross, of course. But he is also present with us this evening, and he gives himself to you in the Lord’s Supper—just as he gave himself to his disciples when they gathered for Passover.

Come to this table in faith and meet him. Don’t come like Peter, trying to impress him with your loyalty and holiness. Come empty handed to receive his grace. Amen.

rev_mauldin@yahoo.com
April 5, 2007

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