The cross alone is our theology

The cross alone is our theology
Martin Luther

To recap:
The last few posts have been presented as a kind of overture of the whole business of Christian doctrine. By expounding up front the gospel – the great announcement of the Lordship of the crucified and risen Messiah Jesus and the call for a response to that proclamation - I have been hoping to signal the great themes to which I will return in more detail later.

And: grounding the theological task in the gospel reminds us of what is at stake (namely, our everlasting future), and prevents this from becoming an academic exercise. It is a serious business.

And also: starting with the gospel points us to the sources and methods that will help us in our task. That is, we are pointed to the words of Scripture (the source) – and especially as those words narrate the great story of God’s great mission to reconcile the world to himself (the method). (That’s ‘Biblical Theology’ in other words).
What’s more: last week I pointed to the fact that the gospel is about a particular person, namely, Jesus of Nazareth. It relates to what happened to him and what he did (which is revealed to us in Scripture).

And so: we must talk about the death of Jesus on the cross. Whatever we might say about the importance of Jesus as a great teacher, or about his remarkable life of compassionate deeds and miracles, it is his death which is at the heart of the gospel message. It is not too much to say that cross of Christ is the hinge upon which the whole of Christianity turns.

The great Reformer Martin Luther once wrote ‘the cross alone is our theology’. (Actually it was in the Heidelberg Disputation). He wasn’t being reductive in saying this, or merely provocative – and he could be both on occasion! He was opposing a ‘theology of glory’ – that is, a theology that has no place for the suffering and godforsaken Jesus on the cross.
The gospel declaration that ‘Jesus is Lord’ (see Rom 10:9, 1 Cor 12:3-4, Phi 2:11) is only to be understood, as the New Testament presents it to us, as occurring through the cross. Jesus’ messianic triumph comes not through a military victory but through an apparently disgraceful defeat.

This is of course what Peter failed to perceive at Caesarea Philippi when he began to rebuke Jesus. Surely being the ‘Christ’ cannot mean being betrayed, suffering and death. But the path to glory and power that bypasses the cross is Satan’s path. Get behind me Satan.

Why must it be so? Quite simply: because of the weightiness of sin. The messiah cannot free his people from the effects of sin without dealing with sin itself. That would be no freedom. He cannot properly redeem them without removing the cause of their enslavement. That would be no redemption. He cannot reconcile them to the holy God without making them holy. That would be no reconciliation. Unless the wrath of God is turned aside, they cannot stand exalted. That would be no exaltation. Unless they are justified, they cannot hope to be glorified. That would be no glorification.

But the way of the cross brings all these things. It’s an extreme measure, after all. On the cross, simultaneously, we understand the depths our predicament, our helplessness in it, and the power of the salvation that corresponds to it.
I recently read an article in which the writer complained of a particular modern theologian that he was ‘too obsessed with the cross’. What a great accusation to have levelled against you!
Next Week: More than an afterthought: the resurrection of the Son.