Accepting a Crucified Lord

129 years ago, a fresher called Charlie Studd – who usually went by his initials, C.T. – arrived in Cambridge for his first year. He came straight from Eton, so today he might well have shipped up at Newcastle, because as a recent article says (I quote), ‘Newcastle has become the top university destination for Old Etonians, because not only is it respectably high in the university league tables, but it’s perfectly situated for weekend trips to both the grouse shooting in Yorkshire and the salmon fishing in Scotland.’ (Can I say if you are an Old Etonian, I’m not endorsing that stereotype, just quoting it.)

Back to C.T.Studd: he arrived in Cambridge in 1879, and by his third year, he was a household name because of his cricket. That summer, Cambridge University took on the touring Australians and pulled off a shock win, with Studd hitting a century. So it was no surprise that he was then picked to play for England against them in what became the first Ashes test. But two years later he shocked British society by turning is back on all that and going instead to be a Christian missionary in China. He worked himself almost to death in Shanghai, and came back to England to recover. When he’d done so, he headed overseas again, this time to Africa, where he died in 1931.

So you’d have thought it would have been great to interview him in your student Welcome service, like we had Fiona just now. But in fact for his first three years at uni, he was going nowhere as a Christian. Maybe like you, he’d come from a Christian home. But he wrote this about most of his time as a student:

‘It was one long, unhappy, backsliding state. My religion was minimal and formal. Instead of going and telling others of the love of Christ, I was selfish and kept the knowledge to myself. The result was that gradually my love for Christ began to grow cold and the love of the world came in.’

Well I wonder what state you’re in, spiritually, tonight – especially those of you who are newly arrived, or newly returned? You may be a committed Christian, determined to live your university life for Christ. You may know you’re definitely not a Christian, but wanting to sort out what you believe. Or you may be somewhere in between – professing to be a Christian, but as far away from the reality of living it as C.T.Studd. You may have begun that same spiritual slide during your Gap year, or this last summer holiday, or even just this Freshers’ Week, with all its opportunities to break with your background and re-invent yourself.

Well, for all of us, whatever spiritual state we think we’re in, we’re going to let the Bible face us with perhaps the most searching question Jesus ever asked: ‘Do you really love me?’ And those of us who profess to, will have the reality of our profession tested. And those of us who don’t yet profess to will, I hope, get some idea of what commitment to Christ would really involve. So would you turn in the Bibles to John 20.30. This was written by the apostle John, who was one of the original eye-witnesses of Jesus’ life, death, and then resurrection from the dead. And John 20.30 says :

“30Jesus did many other miraculous signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this book. 31 But these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.”,

Ie, ‘... so that if you’re not yet a believer in Christ, you may come to be.’ Now John wrote, in the first place, for Jewish readers – to persuade them that Jesus really was the Christ (or Messiah) they were expecting. And their biggest obstacle to accepting that was the fact that Jesus had been crucified – put to death on a cross. Because they were expecting God’s Messiah to step in, wrap up history, and put down the human race’s rebellion against God. So the claim that he had in fact stepped in, and been crucified by the very rebels he’d come to sort out, was just unbelievable. It made no sense at all.

And at first sight, it makes no sense to people today, either. Eg, I remember preaching one time from the account of Jesus’ crucifixion. And I did my best to explain why the Bible says that was the most important event ever, because it’s the key to God forgiving us into relationship with himself. And a guy who’d just come along as a one-off said to me afterwards, ‘Thanks for the sermon. I agreed with most of what you said. I just don’t see why Jesus and the cross have to come into it. But I still think I’m a Christian.’ And I thought to myself, ‘Well you can’t be – because you’ve missed the whole point. Because Jesus and the cross don’t just come into the Christian message somewhere. They are the Christian message. And if tonight, you don’t see the cross as absolutely necessary for your forgiveness, and also as absolutely unavoidable as the pattern of following Jesus, then almost certainly you’re not yet a Christian either.

And one reason John gives so much attention in his Gospel to the apostle Peter, is to help us see why we have to accept a crucified Lord Jesus – because before Jesus’ death and resurrection, Peter himself couldn’t and wouldn’t do that. It was only after the cross and resurrection that it all began to make sense to him. So I want us to look at the before and after – the old Peter and the new Peter – so that each of us can see ourselves reflected in one or the other of them, and clarify where we really stand with Jesus tonight. I’ve got two headings for the rest of our time: ‘The Peter who refuses a crucified Lord’, and ‘The Peter who accepts a crucified Lord’.

Firstly, THE PETER WHO REFUSES A CRUCIFIED LORD

So would you turn back to John 13. This is John’s record of the meal Jesus had with his disciples on the Thursday night before the Friday he died. And at that meal, Jesus did something that was meant to be a visual aid of what his death on the cross the next day was going to do for us. Look down to John 13, v3:

"3 Jesus knew that [God] the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; 4so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. 5After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples' feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him". (John 13.3-5)

And although they didn’t realize it at the time, that was a visual aid of what his death on the cross was going to do for them and for us: Jesus was going to take on himself the death-penalty that our sins deserve, so that we might be forgiven – so that, in God’s sight, the record of all our sins would be washed away. Read on, v6:

6[Jesus] came to Simon Peter, who said to him, "Lord, are you going to wash my feet?" 7 Jesus replied, "You do not realize now what I am doing, but later [ie, the other side of my death and resurrection] you will understand." 8 "No," said Peter, "you shall never wash my feet." Jesus answered, "Unless I wash you, you have no part with me." (John 13.6-8)

Now, Peter didn’t realize what he was really saying there, and what Jesus was really saying there, until after the cross and resurrection. But looking back, he’d have realised that he was really saying to Jesus, ‘I refuse to have you serve me. I refuse to be forgiven.’ But being a Christian only begins when we stop pretending that we’re good enough – or can make ourselves good enough – for God, and when we start admitting how sinful we are – and that above all else, we need Jesus to serve us by forgiving us through his death on the cross. That’s what Jesus really meant at the end of v8. He was saying, ‘Unless I die for the forgiveness of your sins, and you accept the forgiveness I’ve paid for, then whatever you think you have, you in fact have no relationship with me or my Father in heaven.’

And, like the old Peter, you may, deep down, still be refusing to accept that you need a crucified Lord to forgive you. You may have grown up with the Bible and going to church and youth groups – plus or minus Christian camps and school chapel – and come out with the idea that Christianity’s all about trying to live a good life, all about you trying to serve Christ. In which case, you’ve missed the whole point. Because being a Christian only begins with Christ serving us on the cross, and us accepting the forgiveness he’s paid for. And if you’ve not done that, you haven’t begun. And that may explain why you find Christianity, if you’re being honest, such a drag, such a treadmill of trying to be good, such a brake on your freedom. And that’s the way you will see it – until you come to realise that it’s actually all about a relationship with someone who loved you enough to die for you.

So, the old Peter didn’t see the cross as necessary at all. But Jesus was still going there for him – so look over the page to John 13.33. Jesus tells them:

33 "My children, I will be with you only a little longer. You will look for me, and just as I told the Jews, so I tell you now: Where I am going [ie, to his death and resurrection], you cannot come. [Skip to v36:] 36 Simon Peter asked him, "Lord, where are you going?" Jesus replied, "Where I am going, you cannot follow now, but you will follow later." 37 Peter asked, "Lord, why can't I follow you now? I will lay down my life for you." 38 Then Jesus answered, "Will you really lay down your life for me? I tell you the truth, before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times!” (John 13.33-38)

And it’s that failure which ultimately demolishes Peter’s pride and makes him realize that, before he tries to do anything for Jesus, he needs Jesus to serve him by forgiving him. And God may have allowed some particular failure in your own life – maybe a very heavy one – to teach you the same thing. Which isn’t God being cruel, but being kind – because if our pride keeps us from being forgiven, we need it wounded. So turn on to John 18.15, to see how Peter’s was wounded. Jesus has now been arrested; he’s in a mockery of a trial before the Jewish leaders, who want him sentenced to death:

15 Simon Peter and another disciple were following Jesus. Because this disciple was known to the high priest, he went with Jesus into the high priest's courtyard, 16 but Peter had to wait outside at the door. The other disciple, who was known to the high priest, came back, spoke to the girl on duty there and brought Peter in. 17"You are not one of his disciples, are you?" the girl at the door asked Peter. He replied, "I am not." 18 It was cold, and the servants and officials stood around a fire they had made to keep warm. Peter also was standing with them, warming himself. (John 18.15-18)

So there you are in Freshers’ Week and a girl – not the 7-foot rugger-head who looks like he might eat Christians for breakfast, but the really sweet girl who made you the coffee on day two – she’s spotted you coming out of a Christian Union meeting and she says (as a girl I knew said to me in my first term), ‘Oh, no. You’re not one of them are you?’ And you say, ‘No, I was just seeing what was going on.’ Skip to v25:

25 As Simon Peter stood warming himself, he was asked, "You are not one of his disciples, are you?" He denied it, saying, "I am not."26 One of the high priest's servants, a relative of the man whose ear Peter had cut off, challenged him, "Didn't I see you with him in the olive grove?" 27 Again Peter denied it, and at that moment a rooster began to crow. (John 18.25-27)

So it says in v15 that Peter was ‘following Jesus’. But it turns out he’s following Jesus on his own terms. And the terms are: it doesn’t cost me; it doesn’t get uncomfortable standing out; it doesn’t lose me friends. So while Jesus is about to go through the most appalling suffering for Peter (and us), Peter (like us, often) is trying to avoid any suffering that might come from identifying with Jesus. And we who profess to follow Christ have all done that.

But we have to accept a crucified Lord. Which means not only accepting that the cross is absolutely necessary for our forgiveness, but also accepting that the cross is absolutely unavoidable as the pattern of following Jesus. Because you can’t follow a Lord whom this world rejects without suffering a degree of rejection yourself.

So that’s the old Peter, who refuses to accept a crucified Lord. But John then tells us how the Lord Jesus was crucified for him and for us. And then how, three days after he was buried in a tomb, the tomb was found empty and his disciples saw him alive again beyond death. Which is where we meet the new Peter, who finally does accept a crucified Lord. So that’s my other heading tonight:

Second, THE PETER WHO ACCEPTS A CRUCIFIED LORD

Let’s turn on to John 21. We heard read earlier, in vv1-14, the description of Jesus appearing risen from the dead to that group of disciples gone fishing. And the first thing (of two) that we see here is a Peter who’s accepted his need of the cross for forgiveness.

Now the end of the four Gospels each record a different selection of all the resurrection appearances Jesus made. And we know from Luke’s Gospel that one of the very first was to Peter, on his own. And that would already have happened, before these events in John 21. And trying to imagine that conversation on his own with the risen Lord Jesus reminded me of C.S.Lewis’s story The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, where the lion, Aslan, stands for the Lord Jesus and Edmund, one of the children, stands for the disobedient disciple. And Edmund has sided with the opposition, enticed, you might remember, by the White Witch – with Turkish Delight (which is another thing to hold against Turkish Delight apart from taste, texture and inordinate amounts of unnecessary icing sugar). Anyway, C.S.Lewis writes:

When the other children woke up next morning... they heard... that their brother had been rescued and brought back into the camp late last night, and was at the moment with Aslan. As soon as they had breakfasted, they all went out and there they saw Aslan and Edmund walking together in the dewy grass, apart from everyone else. There is no need to tell you (and no-one ever heard) what Aslan was saying, but it was a conversation that Edmund never forgot. And as the others drew nearer, Aslan turned to meet them, bringing Edmund with them.‘Here is your brother,’ he said ‘ – and there is no need to talk to him about what is past.’

Ie, he’s forgiven. And Peter’s conversation, alone with the risen Jesus, would have left him with that assurance, too. Which is why, when Jesus appears in John 21, far from shrinking back from someone he knows full well he’s failed, Peter leaps into the water to be first ashore for breakfast with the Lord. Because he knows he’s forgiven: he’s understood that Jesus, knowing how badly he’d fail – in fact, predicting how badly he’d fail – still went to the cross for him, at exactly the time that he was doing his worst.

And the same is true of you and me. Jesus went to the cross, knowing every sin we’d ever commit. Not just the sins we’ve committed up to now, but the sins we will commit for the rest of our lives. He foresaw the worst about us – our whole lifetime’s sins – and still went to the cross to forgive the lot. And if something particular is weighing on your conscience – or if it’s a whole period of sliding from Christ; or the dawning conviction that you’ve lived your whole life so far ignoring the Person who gave it to you – then know that if Jesus could forgive Peter, he can forgive you. This is one of those Biblical examples which says, ‘No-one here is beyond forgiveness – if they want it.’

So Peter finally accepts his need of the cross for forgiveness. And one reason why the Lord Jesus asks him that question three times is to drive home to him that forgiveness is the only possible basis for relationship with God. Look at John 21.15:

15 When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon son of John, do you really love me more than these [ie, more than these other disciples, remembering how you boasted that even if they all fell away you wouldn’t?]?" "Yes, Lord," he said, "you know that I love you."Jesus said, "Feed my lambs." 16 Again Jesus said, "Simon son of John, do you really love me?" He answered, "Yes, Lord, you know that I love you."Jesus said, "Take care of my sheep." 17 The third time he said to him, "Simon son of John, do you love me?" Peter was hurt [literally, grieved] because Jesus asked him the third time, "Do you love me?" He said, "Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you." (John 21.15-17)

Now Jesus meant his three questions to remind Peter of his three denials. It’s as if Jesus is saying, ‘You professed to love me and denied it three times. So I’m asking you three times, is your profession real?

So what do you say to Jesus when he asks you, ‘Do you really love me?’ Well, if you know deep down that you’ve really not yet begun this relationship with Christ we’re talking about, then you have to say, ‘No – not yet, anyway.’ But if you profess to be Christian, it’s perhaps the most searching question you can be asked. Because if you say, ‘Yes,’ then immediately you re-play in your head the last day, the last week, the last summer, the last year and you know that your life has denied that answer time after time after time. So what do you do? Say, ‘No’? Well, you have to say what Peter finally said at the end of v17. He didn’t say ‘Yes’ or ‘No’, but:

He said, "Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you." (John 21.17)

Ie, he appeals to the Lord Jesus as Judge – as the person who knows all things – but who’s not just a Judge, but a merciful Judge. So Peter’s saying, ‘Lord, you know all things, but as a merciful Judge who died for me, and who can see beneath the inconsistent surface of my life, to my heart, and to the fact that I really do want to love you in response to your love for me. And, Lord, you know what is the real me, and you know the sin that is not the real me – and you’re able to tease those things apart, and be pleased with the one and forgive the other.’

So Peter finally accepts his need of the cross. But the other thing we see here is a Peter who also accepts the cross as the pattern of following Jesus.

Three times he says to Jesus, ‘I love you’, and three times Jesus replies by telling him to show that love by feeding his sheep – which is picture-language for the ministry of spreading the gospel and building up the church on which Peter spent the rest of his life. And although that was said specifically to Peter, back in John 14 Jesus says more generally, ‘If you love me, you will obey what I command’ – and the two commands he then highlights are: on the one hand, the command to be committed to our fellow-Christians; and on the other, the command to reach more people with the gospel.

And that’s the pattern of the cross. Because the cross was not about Jesus doing his own thing, but about Jesus saying to his Father in agonised prayer the night before, ‘Not what I will, but what you will’ – and going through with the cross for our sake. And that’s the pattern for us. So if you’re a Christian newly arrived in Newcastle, God hasn’t brought you here to do your own thing. He’s brought you here to do his will – which, in the context of getting a degree, means living for the sake of your fellow-Christians, who need your help and encouragement; and living for the sake of those who still need to hear the gospel through you. Which is why you need to find and join a church quickly, rather than floating around for months as so many do, church-tasting rather than church-committing. And it’s why you need to find ways to let it be known that you’re a Christian as soon as you can, in all the new contexts you find yourself – your halls, your teams, your circles of friends. Because the longer you leave it to be known as a Christian, the harder it becomes, and the easier it is to conform and compromise, and the more unusable you are to the Lord, who wants people to find out about him through you (which isn’t possible if you’re keeping your head down).

So that’s the pattern of the cross. And it comes with a cost, because as I said earlier, we can’t follow a Lord whom this world rejects without suffering a degree of rejection ourselves. And Jesus predicted the extreme of that for Peter. Look at v18, where Jesus says to him:

18 I tell you the truth, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands [which was a euphemism for crucifixion], and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go." 19 Jesus said this to indicate the kind of death by which Peter would glorify God. Then he said to him, "Follow me!" (John 21.18-19)

And by the time that was written, Peter had glorified God by dying for the faith he’d once denied – and, other sources tell us, by crucifixion, just like his Lord.

Then [Jesus] said to him, "Follow me!" (John 21.18)

So will you? Do you accept this crucified Lord? Do you accept his cross as absolutely necessary for your forgiveness? And do you accept his cross as absolutely unavoidable, as the pattern of following Jesus? If you don’t, can I invite you to join us – until you’ve sorted out what you do believe? And if you do, can I also invite you to join us – as we try as a church, very imperfectly, to live for a crucified Lord.

But I’m going to let C.T.Studd have the last word. Here’s what he wrote in his fourth year, once he’d fully and finally accepted a crucified Lord, with all the implications that brings:

I had known about Jesus Christ’s dying for me, but I had never understood that if he died for me, then I didn’t belong to myself. Redemption means, ‘buying back’, so that if I belonged to him, either I had to be a thief and keep what wasn’t mine, or else I had to give over everything to God. And when I came to see that Jesus Christ had died for me, it didn’t seem hard to give up all for him.