1 Corinthians 1:18

THE WORD OF THE CROSS

‘The word of the cross is to them that are perishing foolishness; but unto us which are being saved it is the power of God.’

1 Corinthians 1:18 (R. V.)

Any view of Christianity which leaves out of consideration the necessity of a reconciliation between the soul and God, and the need of Divine power in daily life—whether the omission be made in order that our religion may fit in with metaphysical speculation, or because there is no longer any room left in our philosophy of life for anything superhuman—in effect robs Christianity of its essential characteristic, and reduces it, when any attempt is made to apply it practically, to foolishness. Your own experience in your own life, if you are honest with yourself, is sufficient to expose the inadequacy of any doctrine which does not give its true place to the ‘Word of the Cross.’

I. ‘The Word of the Cross’ is the revelation of the reconciliation of God with man.—It teaches that there is no need to live under the cloud, that ‘we may walk in the light as He is the light,’ and that the ‘Blood of His Son Jesus may cleanse us from all sin.’ ‘The word of the Cross is the power of God unto those that are being saved.’ I do not pretend to be able to define exactly how the sacrifice which Christ offered upon the Cross is accepted on our behalf, or how His righteousness stands for ours. That is one of ‘the secret things which belong unto the Lord our God.’ It is sufficient for me that the fact of the efficacy of His death is revealed in the Bible, and may be put to the test of experience. We learn it under many figures. It is an atonement, or setting at one of ourselves and God. It is a ransom, redemption, or buying back of our souls which were lost. It is a sacrifice in which the Victim was offered in our stead, bearing our sins on His own Head. These are all figures, each of which gives one side of the great truth which lies underneath. It little matters what theory we hold as to how Christ’s death wrought the salvation of man; but it is of immense moment whether we have laid hold of His salvation in our lives. I call you to witness, you who have opened your hearts freely for the Lord Jesus Christ to reign as your Master and your King, how the cloud rolled away between yourself and God, and how His peace took possession of your soul, when you found for the first time in your life that Jesus Christ was your Saviour. Christ’s reconciliation through the Cross is a matter of experience, and Christianity is still foolishness without it.

II. But reconciliation with God is not the full content of ‘the Word of the Cross.’—It is also ‘the power of God unto us that are being saved’; that is, a continuous energising power in our daily lives, giving us victory over the sins which used to bind us. If it were nothing more than a reconciliation, and brought no power in its train, the deep blue depths of our spiritual sky would soon be flecked once more with clouds of sin, which, undispersed by any heavenly glow, would blend to form the leaden hue we know so well. But here again we may appeal to experience. Not to experience in moments of excitement, but in the humdrum routine of ordinary life. God does give power in the daily life. Look around you—is there not proof of the power of the Cross in the lives of many whom you know well? Have you never seen a change in the very faces of some who speak little of it, but who are winning the victory over sins to which they once were slaves? Those who have watched the change in a human soul wrought by the grace of God, and seen human weakness turned into Divine strength, know that the power of God is given to men. We who have felt it in our own lives can testify that victory over sin is no delusion; it is a tremendous reality.

III. Thank God, the way to Him is still open to all of us.—There is not one to whom life is not still bright with some promise if it leads pass the Cross of Christ. What He asks is the complete surrender of your whole being to Himself. There must be no reserve in any part. You must be ready to give up all for Him, to go where He sends you, to do what he bids you—you must be His entirely. What He offers is pardon for your sin; peace with God, that you may be able to look up into His face as a son to a father, with assurance of perfect communion. He offers you power in your life, both victory over yourself, and strength for your Master in the presence of ungodliness and wrong. The choice He leaves to you. God help you to choose aright.

Rev. E. C. Sherwood.

Illustration

‘Too often men do not put to the test the power of God because they are not willing to surrender their lives and wills to the work of Christ in their hearts. Too often the love of our own comfort, or of some sin from which we do not really want to be free, stands in our way, and we put off the matter till another day. Something whispers that the door of mercy is ever open. So it is, but practical experience teaches us that souls do not always want to enter there. The wonderful poem by Tennyson entitled The Vision of Sin illustrates what I mean. It opens with the description of a young man full of promise led away by an evil companion, who introduces him to sensuous indulgence symbolised by wine, and described under the figure of voluptuous music. Meanwhile God, in the awful solemnity of a rugged mountain height, revealed Himself unheeded, as the dawning of the day. And then the morning mist, heavy, hueless, cold, rolled down the mountain slope and engulfed the youth and the palace of sin, shutting out God’s heaven, and enveloping everything under its clammy pall. When he appears again the young man has been changed by the vapour from a bright and promising boy into a withered and cynical old man, embittered against God, and incapable of a single noble thought. Finally the scene changes back to the mountain height, towering now over a valley hideous with a seething mass of corruption below, and judgment is passed on the man’s life. As you read the poem see in the bright youth who

Rode a horse with wings, that would have flown,

But that his heavy rider kept him down,

your own soul with its boundless possibilities of soaring to heights of fellowship with God, if sin and passion do not bind you to earth. See in the withered old man, maudlin over his wine-cup, the soul of one who has deliberately followed the path of his own pleasure until all his power of enjoyment is gone and every spiritual faculty is dead—then ask yourself the question with which the poem closes, Is there any hope?’