Justified: Offense
The Gospel Brings Scandal
Romans 5:1-8
Rev. Tim Callow
Preached Sun. June 18th, 2023
The Gospel is offensive. It is offensive on multiple levels. Today in our reading from Romans Paul points out two ways that the Gospel is offensive. It is offensive because it centers on a moment of shame. And it is offensive because it is grossly unfair. By the world’s standards it is eminently unjust.
In the first case, the Gospel is offensive because of where we put our hope. We do not put our hope in a great military victory. We do not put our hope in some profound mystical experience or in some grand ideology or powerful argument. We put our hope, instead, in the execution of an itinerant jewish preacher. Our hope is in the nail marks of his hands and feet. We rejoice at the hole that was stabbed in his side. We marvel at the water and blood that flowed out. It is not in his earthly victory that we boast, but instead in his whippings, his nakedness, his shame.
Paul says in another passage that “Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.” We can produce no great sign. The evidence of his resurrection remains an empty tomb and the witness of his followers. We also can produce no great wisdom. At least, not the sort of worldly wisdom that leads to winning friends and influencing people. What we have is the cross, a stumbling block and foolishness. That is a scandal. Telling proud people to put their hope in that is offensive.
There’s an old story about a missionary who went to preach Christ crucified to the saxon tribes in modern day Germany. The chief of the tribe was so infuriated by the injustice that was being perpetrated on an innocent man that he loudly announced, “If I was there this man would not have died!” It’s easy to have that indignation for the injustice of it all. It’s a lot harder to be told that it is only by the shedding of innocent blood that you can be saved. That if you were there you should stay your sword, as the disciples did. Peter was prepared to fight to the death until Jesus told him to put his sword away. Then he denied him three times.
But that is not the only offense of the Gospel. The second offense is still greater than the first. It is so offensive that I am, perhaps, burying the lede. Paul writes, “For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly.” Jesus says in another place that he came “not to call the righteous, but sinners.” Jesus lays down his life, the most precious thing he could give, for the sake of his enemies. For the sake of the ungodly. For the sake of sinners. More to the point, Paul tells us, “to the one who does not work but trusts God who justifies the ungodly, their faith is credited as righteousness.”
Justification is only given to the ungodly. God’s grace is given precisely to those who, according to worldly standards, do not deserve it.
This greatly offends our sense of justice. In his book The Great Divorce C.S. Lewis has an episode where a soul on his way to heaven discovers that the guide sent to bring him across the field and into the Kingdom is a murderer who used to work for him. How could the murderer end up in heaven and he is stuck outside? He never hurt anyone. All he wants is his rights. He’s simply better than the man who has come to fetch him. The former murderer tries to explain to him the nature of grace, how everything has changed. But to no avail. The man refuses to enter the Kingdom because he wants his rights.
Could a murderer make it into the Kingdom on a last minute prayer? Isn’t that what happens at the cross? “Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom.” The man we call a thief tells Jesus. But mere thieves don’t get sentenced to crucifixion. “Truly I tell you,” Jesus replies, “this day you will be with me in paradise.” Even in his suffering on the cross Jesus justifies the ungodly.
It’s not a matter of our rights, or our virtues, or our propriety. God, it seems, does not care much about that. It’s about Jesus. His work. His love. And on account of Jesus we may be justified. On account of Jesus we may be transformed. On account of Jesus we may be saved.
And in our salvation, when the love of God has been so fully poured into our hearts that we truly love God and our neighbor with our all we will not look upon the ungodly about us with disgust or horror. Instead we will rejoice. Rejoice at the power and love of God to deliver even that person. Rejoice that God could save me, even me, the chief of sinners. Rejoice at the absolute grandeur and glory of God that is bigger than our sense of fairness, justice, or propriety. The power of God to save.