Mel Gibson’s film ‘The Passion of the Christ” has brought the topic of Jesus’ suffering and death into the national conversation. Rick Wade explores the meaning of the cross.
This article is also available in Spanish.
A Scandal At the Center
Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ has created quite a bit of controversy, both inside the church and out. One objection from Christians is that the film is imbalanced for not giving due attention to the resurrection of Jesus. There is at least one reason I disagree. That is because, as theologian Alister McGrath has pointed out, the focus today is primarily on the resurrection, and the cross takes second place.{1} I recall Carl Henry, the late theologian, noting in the 1980s that the emphasis in evangelicalism had shifted from justification by faith to the new life. We talk often about the positive differences Christianity can make in our lives because of the resurrection. Gibson has forced us to focus on the suffering and death of Christ. And that’s a good thing.
Before the foundation of the world, it was established that redemption would be accomplished through Jesus’ death (Matt. 25:34; Acts 2:23; Heb. 4:3; 1 Pet. 1:20; Rev. 13:8). Peter wrote that we were “ransomed . . . with the precious blood of Christ” (1 Pet. 1:18,19). Isaiah 53:5 reads: “But he was wounded for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his stripes we are healed.”
But what a way to save the world! It flies in the face of common sense! From the time of Christ, the crucifixion as the basis of our salvation has been a major problem. “For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing,” Paul wrote (1 Cor. 1:18a). The Greeks saw the cross as foolishness (literally, “moronic”), for they believed that truth was discovered through wisdom or reason. For the Jews it was a scandal, a stumbling block, for they couldn’t believe God would save through a man accursed. They asked for signs, but instead got a crucified Messiah.
In modern times the cross was a problem because it meant we could not save ourselves through our own ingenuity. In postmodern times, while many young people feel an affinity with Jesus in His suffering, they have a hard time accepting that this is the only way God saves. And the atonement was much more than a simple identification with suffering humanity.
It is easy for us to rush past the cross and focus on the empty tomb in our evangelism. Think about it. How many of us make the cross central in our witness to unbelievers? The new life of the resurrection is a much easier “sell” than the suffering of the cross. We want to present a Gospel that is appealing to the hearer that grabs people’s attention and immediately makes them want it.
In our apologetics, our arguments and evidence must be presented in terms unbelievers understand while yet not letting unbelievers set the standards for us. Paul was an educated man, and he had the opportunity to show off his intellectual abilities with the philosophers in Corinth. But Paul wouldn’t play the game on their turf. He wouldn’t rest the Gospel on philosophical speculation as a system of belief more elegant and persuasive than the philosophies of the Greeks. In fact, he unashamedly proclaimed a very unelegant, even repulsive sounding message. He knew the scandal of the cross better than most, but he didn’t shy away from it. He made it central.
A key word today among Christians is “relevant.” We want a message that is relevant to contemporary society. But in our search for relevance, we can unwittingly let our message be molded by what current fashion considers relevant. We become confused between showing the relevance of the Gospel to our true situation and making the Gospel relevant by shaping it to fit the sensibilities of our neighbors.
Os Guinness had this to say about relevance:
By our uncritical pursuit of relevance we have actually courted irrelevance; by our breathless chase after relevance without a matching commitment to faithfulness, we have become not only unfaithful but irrelevant; by our determined efforts to redefine ourselves in ways that are more compelling to the modern world than are faithful to Christ, we have lost not only our identity but our authority and our relevance. Our crying need is to be faithful as well as relevant.{2}
Guinness doesn’t deny the relevance of the Gospel. Indeed, it is part of our task to show how it is of ultimate relevance to our situation as fallen people. If the message of Scripture is true—that we are lost and in need of a salvation we cannot secure on our own—then there is nothing more relevant than the cross of Christ. For that was God’s answer to our problem. But it is relevant to our true situation as God sees it, not according to our situation as we see it.
Sin and Guilt in Modern Times
The cross of Christ addresses directly the matter of sin. But what does that mean? Do people “sin” anymore? What a silly question, you think. But is it? Of course, we all agree that people do things we call “bad”. But what is the nature of this “badness”? Is it really sin? Or, is something “bad” just something inconvenient or harmful to me? Or maybe a simple violation of civil laws? Sin is a word used to describe a violation of God’s holiness and law. While the majority of people in our country still believe in God, the consensus about what makes for right and wrong is that we are the ones to decide that, that there is no transcendent law. If there is no transcendent law, however, what are we to make of guilt? Is there such a thing as objective guilt? What do we make of subjective guilt—of guilt feelings?
As the battles of World War I raged in Europe, P.T. Forsyth reflected on the question of God and evil and the meaning of history. He reviewed the ways people had sought peace and unity and found them all wanting. Reason, basic emotions or sympathies, the fundamental workings of nature, and faith in progress all were found wanting. Turning back in history he could find no “plan of beneficent progress looking up through man’s career.”{3} Anytime it seemed enlightenment had come, it would be crushed by war. In his own day, World War I dashed the rosy-eyed hopes of progress being voiced. He said, “As we become civilised [sic], we grow in power over everything but ourselves, we grow in everything but power to control our power over everything.”{4} But what if we looked to the future? Could hope be found there? If the past couldn’t bring in a reign of love and unity, he asked, why should we expect the future to? What is there to make sense of the world we know?
The problem was, and is, a moral one, Forsyth said. “All deep and earnest experience shows us, and not Christianity alone, that the unity of the race lies in its moral centre, its moral crisis, and its moral destiny.” What could possibly deal adequately with the guilt, “the last problem of the race”?{5} Is there anything in the history of our race that offers hope?
From the beginning, the church has taught that our fundamental problem is sin, and the cross of Christ provides hope that sin can and will one day be overcome. In modern times, however, the concept of “sin” seems rather quaint, a hold-over from the days of simplistic religious beliefs. Arthur Custance writes:
The concept of sin is largely outmoded in modern secular thinking because sin implies some form of disobedience against an absolute moral law having to do with man’s relationship with God, and not too many people believe any such relationship exists. It would not be the same as social misconduct which has to do with man’s relationship to man and is highly relative but obviously cannot be denied. We have reached the point where social custom has displaced the law of God as the point of reference, where mores have replaced morals.{6}
We seem to be caught between two poles. On the one hand, we accept the Darwinist belief in our accidental and even materialistic nature—really no more than organic machines. On the other, we can’t rid ourselves of the thought that there’s something transcendent about us, something about us which is other than and even greater than our physical bodies which relates to a transcendent realm of some kind. We recognize in ourselves a moral nature that expresses itself through our conscience. In short, we know we do wrong things, and we know others do them, too. The problem is that we don’t seem to know the nature and extent of the problem nor its solution. Many believe that there is no God against whom we sin, or if there is a God, He is too loving to hold our mistakes against us.
From a historical perspective, this is quite a turn-about, says Custance:
Throughout history there has never been a society like our own in which the reality of sin has been so generally denied. Even in the worst days of the Roman Empire men felt the need to propitiate the gods, not so much because they had an exalted view of the gods but because they had a more realistic view of their own worthiness. It is a curious thing that even some of the cruelest of the Roman Emperors, like Marcus Aurelius, for example, were very conscious of themselves as sinners. We may call it superstition, but it was a testimony to a very real sense of inward unworthiness which was not based on man’s relationship to man but rather man’s relationship to the gods.{7}
On the other hand, despite the contemporary dismissal of sin, guilt is still a constant presence in the human psyche. Karl Menninger writes:
I believe there is a general sentiment that sin is still with us, by us, and in us—somewhere. We are made vaguely uneasy by this consciousness, this persistent sense of guilt, and we try to relieve it in various ways. We project the blame on to others, we ascribe the responsibility to a group, we offer up scapegoat sacrifices, we perform or partake in dumb-show rituals of penitence and atonement. There is rarely a peccavi [confession of sin or guilt], but there’s a feeling.{8}
“This is a phenomenon of our day,” writes Custance: “a burden of guilt but no sense of sin.”{9}
But to what is the nature of this guilt? If there is no objective moral law that stands outside and above us all, what is guilt and who is guilty? Who judges us?
In the film, A Walk on the Moon, Pearl begins to have an affair with a traveling salesman. Pearl’s husband, Marty, is a good man, but a bit of a square. It’s 1969; Woodstock is about to make the news. And Pearl, who got pregnant by Marty when she was 17, is feeling a need to experiment, to capture what she missed by having to get married and starting the family life so early. When Pearl’s affair is discovered, her husband is distraught. So is her daughter, Alison, who saw Pearl with her lover at Woodstock behaving like the teenagers around them. She’s broken up that her mother might leave them.
But in all that happens following Pearl’s confession, there is no mention of her affair being morally wrong. When she confessed, she told Marty she was sorry. Later, she told him she was sorry she’d hurt him. But her deed was at least somewhat excusable because there were things Pearl wanted to try, and her husband was too square, he didn’t listen, he made jokes when she tried to suggest experimenting, especially sexually. Even in her interactions with others, there is no mention of her act being morally wrong. When Alison told Pearl she had seen her at Woodstock, her complaint was that she was the teenager, not Pearl (implying it would be okay for Alison to go wild at Woodstock but not Pearl). Pearl’s mother-in-law pointed out what the early marriage cost Marty: a college education promised by Marty’s boss, who withdrew the offer when Pearl got pregnant. “Do you think you’re the only one with dreams that didn’t come through?” she asked.
So the affair was understandable given Marty’s old-fashioned ways (which he shows to be shedding by switching the radio from a big band station to rock station, and when he’s shown dancing to Jimi Hendrix on the stereo). The problem was the hurt Pearl cost a good man and a teenage girl. And that’s about all there is to sin and guilt anymore.
According to one modern view, guilt is nature’s way of teaching us what not to do in the future that has caused us problems in the past. Dr. Glenn Johnson, clinical psychologist and psychotherapist, said “Guilt seems to be a very primitive mental mechanism that was programmed into us to protect us in the future from mistakes we made in the past.” It is a “simple debriefing and rehearsal process that the mind engages in after perceiving that something negative has taken place and has caused painful and/or anxious feelings. . . . By forcing repeated reviews of a painful experience and the behaviors and elements leading up to it and associated with it, guilt essentially burns into our brains the connection between our behavior and the uncomfortable feelings we feel.”{10}
What can we do about guilt? According to Dr. Johnson, the issue is behavior and what might need to be changed to prevent future problems for us. “When guilt is appropriate,” says Dr. Johnson, “tell yourself that. You might modify intensity with anti-anxiety medications or relaxation exercises—but if the bulk of the guilt feelings are avoided, so will the learning be.” In other words, learn from your mistakes. Inappropriate, excessive guilt, says Dr. Johnson, can be dealt with using “hypnosis, meditation, guided imagery, NLP, Reiki, etc. . . . The focus of the self-help stuff should be on letting one’s self grow from experience,” he says, “trusting in one’s own ability to be a better person, allowing one’s self permission to make mistakes and go through losses, trusting in some form of higher power, etc.”
People come up with all kinds of ways to rid themselves of guilt feelings. One of the strangest I found on the internet, one with a New Age flavor, was Aromatherapy Angelic Bath Kits provided by Guru and Associates Wellness, Inc.{11} All one needs to do is pour some special herbs and oils in the tub, climb in, and read some prescribed meditations to “foster positive thoughts and reinforcements.”{12} One of these kits is a “ritual to clear feelings of guilt.” We’re asked, “Who hasn’t felt guilty in their lives? Who doesn’t still feel guilty about something? There are two kinds of guilt: good guilt and bad guilt. Good guilt is when you have truly done something that you feel remorse for. Bad guilt is for the rest.” The forgiveness kit includes “special mixtures [which] help wash the guilty feeling away.” Notice that “good guilt” has to do with things “you feel remorse for,” not necessarily for things that are truly wrong. It’s your feelings about such things that matter.{13} This may seem silly to you. Who would even bother with such a thing? we wonder. But people do.
Somehow, such remedies don’t seem to be working. Maybe it’s because we can’t rid ourselves of the knowledge Paul said we have by nature: a knowledge of the law written on our hearts (Rom. 2:15).
Sin and Guilt According to God
What does God say about sin and guilt? Briefly put, God has declared us guilty of violating His holy law by our sin and deserving of eternal banishment from His presence. Contrary to current opinion, there is transcendent law that has been broken and for which there must be payment.
Imagine that someone has done something to offend you, and his reaction to your complaint is something like, “Yeah, that really bothered me, too. But I’ve forgiven myself of that, and I’m fine with it now.” This is only a slight caricature of the mentality we all encounter today. The person clearly has missed the point that there was a real, objective violation against you!
The message of the cross is that there is a very real fracture in our relationship with God. We’re told in Scripture that there is nothing we can do to make up for what we’ve done. Is there anything to offer us hope?
There is: the cross of Christ, “the race’s historic crisis and turning-point,” says Forsyth.{14} The cross dealt with our greatest need, namely, redemption. Humanists of a secular stripe who trumpeted the inevitable progress of humanity saw our fundamental nature as one of ordered process. The truth, though, is that it is “tragic collision and despair.” All of man’s efforts have been unable to reach down into the depths of our sinfulness and bring about fundamental change. All except that of the God-man Jesus Christ, who attacked the moral problem head on to the point of dying on the cross and came out victorious.
Several understandings of the atonement—what Jesus accomplished on the cross—have been offered through history, and several of them have some truth in them. The key aspect of Christ’s cross work was that it satisfied the demand for punishment for our sin. This is called substitutionary atonement: Jesus was substituted for us, so He took the punishment for sin in being separated from God and dying, thus paying the penalty for us. “God made Him who had no sin to be sin for us.” (2 Cor. 5:21) Paul wrote to the Romans that “what the law was powerless to do in that it was weakened by the sinful nature, God did by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful man to be a sin offering.” (Romans 8:3) And to the Galatian church he said that “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us, for it is written: Cursed is everyone who is hung on a tree.’” (Gal. 3:13)
By His death on the cross, Jesus, the one who “knew no sin, became sin for us.” This was done because of His love for us: “Christ loved us and gave Himself up for us.” (Eph. 5:2; Rom. 5:8) Jesus’ sacrifice is appropriated by faith: “It is by grace you have been saved through faith,” Paul wrote (Eph. 2:8). By putting our faith in Him, we participate in the payment He made. It counts for those who believe it and who receive Him.
I should note quickly, however, that the reality of our objective guilt isn’t dependent upon our subjective guilt. In other words, whether we feel guilty or not, we are. And because we are guilty of violating God’s law, we must do more than just forgive ourselves as we’re taught today. We must, and may, participate in God’s solution through Christ.
The Moral Triumph of the Cross
What I’ve been talking about is the judicial aspect of the cross work of Christ. Jesus paid the penalty for our sin.
However, this payment isn’t to be thought of like making a payment to the utility company for electricity. All that matters is that the money gets there. What it takes to get it there isn’t really significant. The cross, by contrast, was a triumph over sin; it was a moral victory in itself. Jesus overcame evil through His perfect obedience and righteousness; “through one act of righteousness there resulted justification of life to all men,” Paul wrote (Rom. 5:18). His death on the cross was the capstone of a life of moral victories over sin and Satan.
We’re so used to thinking about Jesus as God and as sinless that we don’t often think about His obedience. He said and did the things the Father told Him (Jn. 5:19, 30; 8:28). To the Jews he said, “When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am He, and that I do nothing on my own authority, but speak just as the Father taught me” (Jn 8:28). In His high priestly prayer recorded in John 17, Jesus said, “I glorified You on the earth, having accomplished the work which You have given Me to do.” (v. 4) Before He gave up His spirit on the cross, Jesus knew that “all things had already been accomplished.” (Jn 19:28) He fulfilled the law perfectly (Matt. 5:17), and thus put the basis of our salvation on our faith in him as the one who did so, thus robbing the law of its power to encourage us to sin (cf. Rom. 8:2-4; Gal. 3:13; 1 Cor. 15:55-57). Jesus had defeated Satan; He had not given in to any temptation to not give up His life. He was obedient to death. (Phil. 2:8). And by His obedience He was made perfect or complete and able to be the source of eternal salvation to all who obey Him (Heb. 5:9; see also 2:10; 5:8; and Rom. 5:19).
P.T. Forsyth wrote that the cross “is the moral victory which recovered the universe. The Vindicator has stood on the earth,” he said. “It is the eternal victory in history of righteousness, of holiness, of the moral nature and character of God as Love.”{15} He continued:
The most anomalous thing, the most poignant and potent crisis that ever happened or can happen in the world, is the death of Christ; the whole issue of warring history is condensed there. Good and evil met there for good and all. And to faith that death is the last word of the holy omnipotence of God.{16}
What is the significance of Jesus’ cross work—indeed, His whole life—as a moral victory? Forsyth said that in creating the world, God revealed His omnipotence, His absolute power. In the new creation inaugurated through the cross, He revealed His moral power, His ability to triumph over His worst enemy, Satan, and the sin that infects His creation. God’s power has been revealed as “moral majesty, as holy omnipotence” said Forsyth. “The supreme power in the world is not simply the power of a God but of a holy God.”{17}
In the cross and resurrection, we see that good can triumph over evil now, and we have the promise that one day that triumph will be complete. Not only us but all of creation will be set free from the bondage of sin (Rom. 8:18-24).
But this isn’t just a promise for the future. Because, like Jesus, we have the Spirit living in us, we can live in obedience to God; we can stand firm in the presence of the evil that wages war against us (Heb. 2:14-18; Gal. 2:19-20). The cross bears witness to that.
The secular humanism and new spiritualism of our day have no resources for affecting us so deeply on the moral level. Christianity does—the cross of Christ—and it is this that makes it relevant for our day and for all time.
A Fully-Engaged God
It’s easy to think of God as remote from us, as a judge way up there making His laws and wreaking vengeance on anyone who violates them. We hear about the love of God, but how does love fit in with a God of judgment? And if God does love us, how does He show it? Love comes near; it isn’t afraid to get its hands dirty. Is God willing to come near? To get His hands dirty with us?
In the cross of Jesus we see both the judgment of God and His love. Herein lies its beauty. In the cross we find a God who does not stand afar off, but takes on the worst of what His own law requires! He has pronounced judgment, but He so much wants us saved that He is willing to take on the burden of paying for it Himself. “For God so loved the world that He gave His Son,” says John (3:16).
In all the brouhaha surrounding the release of Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ, one complaint heard several times was that a God who would put His Son through that isn’t a God to be worshipped.{18} But Jesus did this freely. “No one takes [my life] from me,” He said, “but I lay it down of my own accord” (Jn.10:18). And He did this knowing that as He laid His life down, so also would He take it up again (Jn.10:17). For the joy set before Him, He took up the cross (Heb. 12:2).
We wonder if God can reach us in the messiness of our lives. But God is no stranger to mess. The Bible reveals a God who isn’t afraid to get dirty, who engages life even with all kinds of difficulties it may bring. This message is appealing in our day especially, to GenXers who have suffered the fallout of the excesses of earlier generations. The optimism Boomers inherited from their parents fizzled out for a lot of their children. Regarding that generation, Tom Beaudoin says this:
I have witnessed a sadness and anger about the generation’s suffering and dysfunction, a suffering that—whatever its economic reasons may be—expresses itself in psychological and spiritual crises of meaning. Clothing styles and music videos suggest feelings of rage, with the videos expressing this in apocalyptic images. Despair is common and occasionally leaps overboard into nihilism. Xers’ relation to suffering lays the groundwork for religiousness. . . . Suffering is a catalyst for GenX religiosity.{19}
While they often reject the form of religion their parents embraced, many GenXers have a fascination and respect for Jesus, for his suffering didn’t make sense, and yet it was redemptive.{20}
Here the true awesomeness of the cross is made plain. God, who deserves all glory and is so far above us in holiness and purity, became man, and endured horrific torture at the hands of people He created . . . for their benefit! The life and death of Christ make plain that God was willing to roll up his sleeves and engage life on earth fully, even accepting the worst it had to offer.
But, one might wonder, since Christ took on evil and won, shouldn’t we be done with suffering? Eventually it will end. In the meantime we, too, learn obedience through what we suffer. If that was Jesus’ way of learning, and the servant isn’t above his master (Matt. 10:24), can we expect anything else? Furthermore, we mustn’t lose sight of the fact that hardship isn’t just an inconvenience on the road of discipleship. Redemption wasn’t brought about in spite of the cross but through it.{21} Likewise, our growth comes not in spite of hardship but through it.
Someone who has suffered for many years might complain that Jesus’ suffering doesn’t compare. Jesus’ sufferings and resurrection spanned a short period of time. But what He suffered was the experience of the weight of the guilt of the whole world on the shoulders of one who was sinless. It isn’t anything new for us to feel guilt; we can become somewhat hardened to it. But Jesus felt it to the fullest extent imaginable. This isn’t to mention the hurt of the betrayal of Judas (and to a lesser extent, of Peter). Worse yet, He experienced separation from the Father, the worst thing that can happen to anyone. Jesus knew suffering.
In the cross and resurrection we see what God has promised to do for us in a compressed timeframe. But what happened to Jesus will happen for all who believe. He suffered . . . and He arose. We suffer . . . and we will rise.
Jesus allowed people to see what God is like. He not only taught truth, he lived it. People could touch Him, and feel Him touch them. They could see how He lived and how He died. The cross was a real, live illustration of love.
In Jesus, people saw goodness and love demonstrated even toward those who persecuted Him. That should be no surprise, because it was just that kind of person Jesus came to die for! Sin was overcome through a love that gave all. This is the meaning and the message of the cross, the message we, too, are to take to our world.
Notes
1. Cf. Alister McGrath, The Mystery of the Cross (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1988), 28ff.
2. Os Guinness, Prophetic Untimeliness (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 2003), 15.
3. P.T. Forsyth, The Justification of God (London: Independent Press, 1948), 17.
4. Forsyth, 18.
5. Forsyth, 19.
6. Arthur C. Custance, The Doorway Papers, vol. 3, Man in Adam and in Christ (Grand Rapids; Zondervan, 1975), 267.
7. Custance, 274.
8. Karl Menninger, Whatever Became of Sin? (New York: Hawthorn Books, 1973), 17.
9. Custance, 273.
10. Dr. Glenn Johnson, head-cleaners.com, www.head-cleaners.com/guilt.htm (February 17, 2004).
11. Guru and Associates Wellness, Inc., www.wellnessguru.com/wellness_about.htm (February 17, 2004).
12. Guru and Associates Wellness, Inc., www.wellnessguru.com/ritual_package.htm (February 17, 2004).
13. Guru and Associates Wellness, Inc., www.wellnessguru.com/rituals_guilt.htm (February 17, 2004).
14. Forsyth, 19.
15. Forsyth, 121.
16. Forsyth, 122.
17. See Forsyth, 123.
18. See for example the comment by Kip Taylor in Susan Hogan/Albach, “The Purpose of the Passion,” The Dallas Morning News, Feb. 21, 2004, 1G.
19. Tom Beaudoin, Virtual Faith: The Irreverent Spiritual Question of Generation X (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1998), 99.
20. Beaudoin, 99.
21. Cf. Alister McGrath, The Mystery of the Cross (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1988), 30.
©2004 Probe Ministries.
