Just Be a Son: On Holiness and the Cross of Christ

It isn't particularly hard to tell someone how to live. It's not difficult to set forth a high standard of moral righteousness. It is easy enough to say that people ought to be more patient, or forgiving, or caring, or generous, or . . . you get the picture. Every one of these sentiments is valid, and to support and avow such sterling behavior is quite inspiring at times. Nevertheless, a good man, as Flannery O'Connor has said, is hard to find.

But to hear such recitations in the form of a Sunday morning sermon leaves me feeling deeply sad. He's missing it, I find myself muttering. Is he really going to keep missing it? He should have got to it by now. When will he get to it? He's almost finished and he still hasn't got to it. He's still talking about the importance of patience [love, generosity, etc.]. He's finishing up now and by golly he really has completely missed his chance to speak of the cross, the new life in Christ, or the Gospel.

Oh well, perhaps I'm just being negative. Perhaps all I really need to hear is how absolutely fine it would be if I just guarded my tongue more often (okay, I give you that). Nevertheless, I need to say it: a sermon without the Gospel is not a Christian sermon at all. It may quote the Bible from start to finish, but it is simply a Biblical values-statement and nothing more. My problem is, however hard I try to live up to that standard you're so keen on, I fall flat on my ever-lovin' face! I need something more, I guess, than a restatement of the standard.

Pastor, I'm just speaking for myself here, but it would be safe for you to make that presumption about all of us. The question for us is not, "What is the good life?" But, "How do we live it?"

It's the "how question" that counts for something. That actually leads somewhere other than a stark and lonely dead end. And where then does it lead? Well, if we're thinking Biblically, it leads to the cross. What difference does the cross make? How can the cross possibly help me with my usual quick-to-talk/slow-to-listen approach to life? Well, I would say the answer to that question has everything to do with access.

Remember Romans 8:15? "For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back again into fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship by which we cry, 'Abba! Father!'" Listen, after the cross, all the many imperatives of righteousness found in the Bible are replaced by one and one only: Be a Son.

And what distinguishes a son? Simply this: his status with, and access to, the Father. He's a chip off the old block, sometimes without even trying. The very characteristics so noteworthy of the father in time begin to show themselves in the children. More importantly, when he fails--when he strays, rebels, or just misses the mark--he can always cry "Daddy!" His father is incredibly patient, mind-bogglingly forgiving. This patience, this acceptance, this access, is founded on the historical fact that all the failings, rebellions, and mark-missing of his wayward children were anticipated by the Father long ago and taken care of. At Calvary. Negated, put aside, wiped out. In actual fact, nailed to the cross--put to death there.

Conclusion: because Jesus became sin for us, all discussion of God's holy standards should lead our gaze inexorably toward the cross and thereby to thanksgiving for his wonderful grace.

Christ in Me?

I'm really liking this book. I haven't got very far into it yet, but I need to share something I just read here and maybe see what you think? Every now and then Chapell states things in a way that really bring you up short--that make you want to say, "Hey, wait a minute, I just don't kow about that."

Here's an example. Chapell has been talking about what it means to be united with Christ both in his death and in his life. It's concerning the latter point that he brought me up short. He says that Christ supplies our identity. Unpacking that concept, he says:

The spiritual reality of my new identity permits me once again to look through the eyes of Jesus at the events of Scripture. I can see a crowd gathering on another mountainside prior to Calvary. Though Jesus preaches to them of the righteousness of God and his kingdom, the wisdom of the sermon on the mount is mine. Another time, a man approaches Christ with torment of spirit and body. Jesus commands a legion of devils to come out of him, but the victory is mine. As the Savior approaches a small town, a widow comes toward him in a funeral procession. The coffin bears the body of her only son. Christ touches the coffin despite its ceremonial uncleanness, and her son rises. The compassion and power of the act are mine. In a wilderness, Stan approaches and tempts God's Son with allurements that would satiate pleasure, power, and pride. Jesus resists him with the Word of God, and the righteousness of that resistance is mine.

I ran this by my lovely wife, and she had the same brung up short reaction as me. And yet, is this not what Paul is getting at when he says:

"For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God." (Col. 3:3)

"For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ." (Gal. 3:27)

"[Believers are] seated with [God] in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus..." (Eph. 2:6)

I'd like to know what others think. Is Chapell's over-stating his case? Is he out of balance? Or is he just taking God at his word?

Chapell, btw, is president of Covenant Seminary in St. Louis, MO. You can read more about him here.