4th Sunday after Lent – March 14, 2010

 

1 Corinthians 1:18 For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. 19 For it is written: “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise; the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate.”  20 Where is the wise man? Where is the scholar? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? 21 For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know him, God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe. 22 Jews demand miraculous signs and Greeks look for wisdom, 23 but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, 24 but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. 25 For the foolishness of God is wiser than man’s wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man’s strength.

 

Have you ever heard someone poke fun at God by inventing a scenario they think will trap God, saying something like this: “If God is almighty, can he create a stone that is too heavy for him to carry?”  Oh, man thinks he is so clever!  He tries to turn God against God.  He thinks he has outwitted God and made him look like a fool.

But for us who have been enlightened by the Holy Spirit, such seeming contradictions are nothing new.  God even has a name for them: “mysteries of the faith,” divine things that defy human logic.  And if we Christians are startled for a moment when we hear a new one, it is only because we need a moment to process the fact that all matters of faith are strange to our way of thinking and, therefore, complete nonsense to those who live apart from God.  In fact, give us a few moments and we can add others to that list: How can God be three and one at the same time? The mystery of God is bad math to the world’s way of thinking.  Or, how can Jesus, the Son of Mary, be completely God and completely man at the same time?

In the school of the Holy Spirit, however, we have learned to be at peace with these and a thousand other apparent contradictions in the Bible.  We accept them, not because we check our brains at the door when we walk into church, but because by the power of the Word the Holy Spirit has enlightened us to sit quietly and bask in the comfort of a God whose ways are not our ways and whose thoughts are so superior to our thoughts that, without Spirit-given faith in the Holy Scriptures, it would all be nonsense.  Paul writes in our lesson, “For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing. . . . Where is the wise man? Where is the scholar? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of this world?”

To the world, to the mind without the Holy Spirit, this is the highest contradiction of all – and it has nothing to do with God creating a stone that is too heavy for him to carry.  The higher contradiction is this: Can God lift a burden created by his rebellious creatures?  Is it possible that the God who is holy and in whose presence no unholy person can stand, would bear the guilt and punishment of our sins?  Yet each and every time we come to his glorious Word we see how the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ solves this mystery.  Here, in the cross, we find God’s wisdom and comfort in the sure promise of the forgiveness of our sins and escape from the hell our rebellion deserves.

How shameful it is then, that at times we still find that our puny, fleshly wisdom is reflected in the foolishness of the world.  Take Pontius Pilate for example.  He saw our Savior’s claims as a foolish distraction from his life’s ambitions.  Even though he declared Jesus free of any blame, he chose to get mixed up with what he considered to be petty, moral bickering amongst the Jewish nation.  As he stared into the face of him who is the truth, Pilate waxed philosophical: “What is truth?” (John 18:38).  In spite of the dire warnings of his wife, the seasoned politician did what comes so naturally to the natural sinful mind: he sold his soul for a moment of political gain.  And who of us can claim that there haven’t been times we’ve chosen our own life’s ambitions, and set aside the things of God that seemed to get in the way because they appeared foolish to us?  “Where is the wise man?” 

Then there are scholars who store up the knowledge learned from men wiser than themselves.  The philosopher draws on their intellect to speculate about God and man and why their universe works as it does.  Yet both depend on fallen human intelligence.  Is it any wonder that none of the great man-made religions offer us a sure confidence of salvation?  When confronted with Jesus of Nazareth, Caiaphas, the high priest, could not allow for the possibility that Jesus was the Messiah.  “Foolishness,” he thought, “that the forgiveness of sins and the eternal kingdom of God could be achieved by a man such as Jesus.”  The best Caiaphas could hope for was the survival of Israel as a nation. And so, plumbing the depths of his carnal mind, Caiaphas was very sure that he was doing God a favor by condemning Jesus to death: “It is better…that one man die than that the nation perish” (John 11:50).  “Where is the scholar?  Where is the philosopher of this age?  Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?”

 “Jews demand miraculous signs.” That was Herod, who had been waiting to see Jesus for a long time.  He hoped to see Jesus perform a miraculous sign.  That’s sometimes us.  “Oh God, if you would let me see some of the things the people in the Bible saw, then I would have stronger faith in you.  Oh, God, if you just do this thing for me, I will change my life and serve you better!”  That’s what the chief priests and teachers of the law wanted, “He saved others…but he can’t save himself!  Let this Christ, this King of Israel, come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe” (Mark 15:31,32).

But to the shame of this foolish thinking, Jesus doesn’t do a miracle, Jesus did not come down.  Up until then, none of the Jews were convinced by the other miracles: the miraculous feedings, driving out demons, the healing of lifelong illnesses, or the raising of Lazarus from the dead.  Besides, our salvation depended on his refusal to satisfy their desire for a miracle.  Aren’t you glad that Jesus did not give in and come down from the cross?  “Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?”

Now back to that ultimate mystery: God himself.  This is how God described himself to Moses on Mount Sinai: “The LORD, the LORD, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin” (Exodus 34:6,7). There you have it.  God is completely merciful.  By his unsearchable compassion, he chooses to forgive everything that would damn us to hell for eternity.  But that’s not all!  God continues, “Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished; he punishes the children and their children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation” (Exodus 34:7).  What’s that, God is not only compassionate; he is equally just?  That means he has no choice but to punish your sins and mine!

And here is the stone of offense that the unconverted world trips over every time: God is perfectly merciful, forgiving every sin, and at the same time perfectly just, punishing every sin.  Can the almighty God create a stone so large that he cannot lift it?  That question is child’s play in comparison to the question, “Can God punish all sin and at the same time forgive all sin?”  These two contradictory facts can only be reconciled on Jesus’ cross.  “We preach Christ crucified”—because God laid all of the punishment for our sins upon his holy, innocent Son on that cross.  On the cross God treated his sinless Son as we sinners should have been treated.  “We preach Christ crucified”—because the perfect mercy and love of God came to us poor sinners from Jesus’ cross.  Because of Jesus’ cross, God treats rebels, like you and me, as he should only treat his holy Son!

This foolish wisdom of the cross gives us the confidence to say, “If God is for us, who can be against us?  He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?” (Romans  8:31,32).  With this wisdom we can wrestle with the greatest burden in our lives: our own struggle with sin and an evil conscience.  Whenever our hearts condemn us, the wisdom of the cross says, “It is God who justifies. Who is he that condemns?  Christ Jesus, who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us.  Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?” (Romans 8:33-35).  Armed with the wisdom that we are God’s own dear children because of Jesus’ cross, we can face any of the adversities of life—even death.

When death approaches, the wisdom and power of the cross enable us to face it unafraid because we know the sin that separated us from God has been paid for by Christ, and the perfection we need has been supplied by Christ.  The wisdom of the cross lets us view the glory of the empty grave, as it lifts our eyes to the Lord’s mercy and compassion that guarantee us safe passage to the new heaven and the new earth, the home of God’s elect.  Together with the apostle Paul, we can stake our eternal happiness on the wisdom of Jesus’ cross: “In all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:37-39).  Amen.