The Theology Of The Cross

By Robert D. Preus

I. Luther And Lutheranism

For Luther the most important article of our Christian faith, the most beautiful and precious message that could be preached, believed, taught, and confessed, was the message of Christ crucified, the redemption of the world through His doing and suffering and death and the salvation and justification of the sinner who believed in Him and belonged to Him. This is the heart and center of the gospel, which alone saves a poor sinner. It is the Leit-motiv and theme of Luther’s witness to the world and that of our Lutheran Confessions. If one were to epitomize all that Luther wrote, taught, preached, sang, and confessed about the gospel of Christ, one might simply repeat the words of Luther’s explanation to the Second Article of the Apostles’ Creed:

I believe that Jesus Christ, true God, begotten of the Father from eternity, and also true man, born of the Virgin Mary, is my Lord, who has redeemed me, a lost and condemned creature, purchased and won me from all sins, from death, and from the power of the devil; not with gold or silver, but with His holy, precious blood and with His innocent suffering and death, that I may be His own, and live under Him in His Kingdom, and serve Him in everlasting righteousness, innocence, and blessedness, even as He is risen from the dead, lives and reigns to all eternity. This is most certainly true.

These words of Luther’s, which have been memorized and confessed by millions of Lutherans since he first penned them, show us the relationship between Luther and Lutheranism. It is an intimate theological relationship, a consensus, a fellowship in the gospel and all its articles. It binds all Lutheranism together with Luther in a way which is not possible in the Roman Church or in any of the Reformed denominations.

For the article of redemption, or justification as Luther so often termed it, or, what is the same thing, the theology of the cross, really sums up all of our theology, sums up the meaning and implications of the sola scriptura, the sola fide, and sola gratia. The theology of the cross, the article of justification, is not divided or separated from the other articles of faith, creation, sin, grace, baptism, church, Lord’s supper, Christ’s return and eternal life. Rather all these articles take their meaning from the article of redemption and the theology of the cross, and one understands and applies all other articles only in the light of the cross, which points to Christ’s atoning and saving work of redemption.

Luther puts it all very beautifully when he says:

There is one article and one basic principle in theology, and he who does not hold to this article and this basic truth, to wit, true faith and trust in Christ, is no theologian. All the other articles flow into and out of this one, and without it the others are nothing. The devil has tried from the beginning to nullify this article and to establish his own wisdom in its place. The disturbed, the afflicted, the troubled, and the tempted relish this article; they are the ones who understand the Gospel. [1]

For it is the theology of the cross which engenders and sustains faith in the hearts of sinners, even as it is the theology of the cross, the article of justification, which is the object of faith, the gospel which saves poor sinners. Listen again to Luther:

The other articles are rather far from us and do not enter into our experience; nor do they touch us ... but the article on the forgiveness of sins comes into continual experience with us, and in daily exercise, and it touches you and me without ceasing. Of the other articles we speak as of something strange to us (e.g., creation, Jesus as the Son of God). What is it to me that God created heaven and earth if I do not believe in the forgiveness of sins? ... It is because of this article that all the other articles touch us.

Statements like these can be found frequently in Luther’s writings. They dominate his sermons, his hymns, the very liturgy which he reformed, and the hymns of those who followed him for the next 150 years. Many today may not be able to sing the mighty Lutheran chorales of the Reformation era and the age of orthodoxy which followed, but they most certainly can pray them and preach their message.

Let me give you just one example of a hymn from the age of orthodoxy which expresses eloquently the theology of the cross. I cite two stanzas (6 and 8) from J. H. Schröder, “One Thing Needful!”:

I have naught, my God, to offer,
Save the blood of Thy dear Son;
Graciously accept the proffer:
Make His righteousness mine own.
His holy life gave He, was crucified for me;
His righteousness perfect He now pleads before Thee;
His own robe of righteousness, my highest good,
Shall clothe me in glory, through faith in His blood.

And Schröder’s classic stanza, number 8:

Jesus, in Thy cross are centered
All the marvels of Thy grace;
Thou, my Savior, once hast entered
Through Thy blood the Holy Place:
Thy sacrifice holy there wrought my redemption,
From Satan’s dominion I now have exemption;
The way is now free to the Father’s high throne,
Where I may approach Him, in Thy name alone.

No wonder then that Schröder can go on to exult in next stanza:

Joys unnumbered, peace and blessing
Are the comforts full and free,
Richly now I am possessing,
For my Savior shepherds me,
How sweet the communion, beyond all expression,
To have Thee, O Jesus, as my heart’s possession.
O nothing in me can such ardor unfold
As when I Thee, Savior, in faith shall behold.

Already during the life of Luther the theology of the cross epitomized in the article of justification by grace through faith was taught all over Lutheranism to be the articulus stantis et cadentis ecclesiae. Throughout the sixteenth and into the seventeenth century the article of justification was given the chief and central position in Lutheran theology. This is still the case among confessional Lutheran theologians. We believe that all other articles are either antecedent to it or consequent from it. We believe that to know this article and keep it in our hearts will alone enable us to be good theologians and convinced and pious Christians. Therefore the above aphorism, attributed to Luther, correctly indicates the relationship between Luther and Lutheranism.

Here we stand on holy ground. Here we are faced with a fact which is of greatest significance for us all, the fact of our reconciliation, the fact that through the death of Christ we can stand before God, not stripped and naked in our sin, like Adam, but righteous and holy, bedecked with the righteousness of Christ Himself. Here is answered for us the agonizing question of Luther and countless others: How may I find a gracious God?

The recognition and stress upon the theology of the cross and the centrality of the article of justification was new with the Reformation. The emphasis upon the forgiveness of sins through Christ’s redemption is found in Paul’s epistles to the Galatians and Romans, in the gospel of John, and all over the Bible; but it was lost with amazing rapidity in the post-apostolic age. We notice this from the writings of the apostolic fathers and the apologists. With the exception of the Epistle of Diognetus, the post-apostolic age seems almost to have forgotten Paul’s theology on this point and the very claims of Jesus for Himself (Luke 19:10; Matt. 20:28).

The Eastern Church, although it led the way in developing the doctrine of the person of Christ, had much less to say explicitly about the redeeming work of Christ or justification or reconciliation, except for references where Christology necessitated an emphasis upon a statement on Christ’s redemption. In the West, St. Augustine attempted to articulate an evangelical doctrine of grace and thus referred much more often to the vicarious atonement of Christ; but after his time Pelagianism and synergism gained ascendancy in the West as in the East, thus proving that where Pelagianism reigns, there will never be great interest in the vital question of salvation focused on the theology of the cross. Often humanism results, and we note that Abelard in the Middle Ages denied the vicarious atonement altogether, claiming that the innocent Christ suffering for the guilty sinner is both cruel and unjust. At the time of the Reformation both Servetus and Socinus denied the vicarious atonement as well as the deity of Christ—and both of them arose out of Roman Catholicism. However, throughout the centuries the theology of the cross was articulated beautifully in the liturgy and in many hymns of the church.

With Luther and the Reformation the theology of the cross gained its rightful prominence and centrality in the preaching and teaching of the church. Let me quote some of the many statements of Luther on this point which will give insight into how he viewed the role of the theology of the cross in the entire theological enterprise and the importance of this message for all sinners.

This is the highest article of our faith, and if one should abandon it as the Jews do or pervert it like the Papists, the church cannot stand nor can God maintain His glory which consists in this, that he might be merciful and that He desires to pardon sin for His Son’s sake and to save. [2] 

If this doctrine of justification is lost, the whole Christian doctrine is lost. [3]

This doctrine can never be urged and taught enough. If this doctrine is overthrown or disappears, then all knowledge of the truth is lost at the same time. If this doctrine flourishes, then all good things flourish, religion, true worship, the glory of God and the right knowledge of all conditions of life and of all things. [4]

This last statement of Luther’s is no overstatement but deliberately is intended to indicate the pervasiveness of the theology of the cross, the gospel of justification, in the life of the church in the world. Luther does not show how the theology of the cross can exert such an impact. In fact, the effect of the theology of the cross, the gospel of the crucified Savior, is not seen except through the eyes of faith. That is the reason why the cross is foolishness to Paul and to Luther. But Luther does become more specific as to how the theology of the cross dominates in Christ’s church. The most important statement in the Smalcald Articles is found exactly in the middle of this great confession (II, I, 1–5):

The first and chief article is this, that Jesus Christ, our God and Lord, “was delivered up because of our transgressions, and was raised because of our justification” (Rom. 4:25). He alone is the “Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). “The Lord has caused the iniquity of us all to fall on Him” (Isa. 53:6). Moreover, “all have sinned,” and they are “justified as a gift by His grace through the redemption which is in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 3:23–25). 

Inasmuch as this must be believed and cannot be obtained or apprehended by any work, law, or merit, it is clear and certain that such faith alone justifies us, as Paul says in Romans 3, “For we maintain that a man is justified by faith apart from works of the Law” (Rom. 3:28), and again, “That He [God] might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus” (Rom. 3:26).

After the statement of the principle, Luther immediately expresses himself on the importance of holding fast the gospel of justification at all costs.

Nothing in this article can be given up or compromised, even if heaven and earth and things temporal should be destroyed. For as Peter says, “There is no other name under heaven that has been given among men, by which we must be saved” (Acts 4:12). “And with His scourging we are healed” (Isa. 53:5). 

On this article rests all that we teach and practice against the pope, the Devil, and the world. Therefore we must be quite certain and have no doubts about it. Otherwise all is lost, and the pope, the Devil, and our adversaries will gain the victory.

Luther then goes on in Part II of the Smalcald Articles to apply the article of redemption to the doctrine and practice of the papacy, thus illustrating how his theology of the cross is to be used in the church. Thus the article on redemption and its place in the theology of Luther and of Lutheranism is given a confessional status, still accorded by every evangelical Lutheran who wants to be faithful to the Lutheran Confessions. Melanchthon in the Apology of the Augsburg Confession follows Luther in Article IV, and Article III of the Formula of Concord does the same. But why must the theology of the cross reign supreme?

Why must this one article or principle, which we might call the solus Christus, have total prominence? [5] The theology of the cross must judge all doctrine in the church and guide the teaching of the church for two reasons. First, this doctrine opens up the entire Scripture to us and teaches us to know Christ aright and give Him proper honor and brings to our troubled consciences the most abundant consolation. Melanchthon puts this matter very succinctly in his Apology of the Augsburg Confession (IV, 2):

In this controversy [on justification] the chief topic of Christian doctrine is treated, which, understood aright, illumines and amplifies the honor of Christ [which is of special service for the clear, correct, understanding of the entire Scriptures, and alone shows the way to the unspeakable treasure and right knowledge of Christ, and alone opens the door to the entire Bible], and brings necessary and most abundant consolation to devout consciences....

It is clear from Melanchthon’s words that he is making the theology of the cross, or the article of justification, a hermeneutical principle for the interpreting of all Scripture, a principle which was not understood by the Papists and was never followed by the Reformed. The principle does not mean that one should atomistically bend the Scriptures and all the articles of the faith to agree logically with the article of justification. For the articles of faith, although agreeing with each other in truth, do not agree at all with each other according to human reason, as we shall see later when we discuss the subject of law and gospel. The agreement is in Christ and in theology and event of the cross. It is the theology of the cross centering as it does in the atoning work of Christ which enables us to distinguish between law and gospel and through faith to understand the Scriptures and apply them.

This principle which Melanchthon derived from Luther is based upon Luther’s unique understanding of Scripture as Christocentric. To Luther the unity of Scripture was a Christological unity. The entire message of Scripture, Old Testament and New Testament, point to Christ, the Savior. And the purpose of Scripture—as well as the purpose of all teaching in the church—is soteriological (Rom. 15:4; 2 Tim. 3:15–17). The purpose of Scripture is for our comfort, our forgiveness, our union with God. Like Christ Himself (John 5:39), Luther uses the Scriptures to bring people to faith in Christ. How can this be? Because Christ is the center and theme of all the Scriptures. [6] Luther and Melanchthon and all Lutherans make Christ the center and focus of the Scriptures and interpret the Scriptures and all of life according to the theology of the cross. They are not reductionistically undermining the sola scriptura principle, and thus making the theology of the cross, or the gospel, a cipher for interpreting the Bible, but they are actually undergirding and enhancing the authority of Scripture, both its canonical authority as the only source of Christian doctrine and its causative authority to work faith. It is for this reason that Luther, like our Lord Himself, points to the authority of Scripture as he teaches and makes claims for the theology of the cross, as we shall see.

And so the Scriptures make us happy, trustful, confident Christians and put us at peace with God. They are our defense against temptation of the Devil, the world, and the flesh; they instruct us in true worship of God and how to be good theologians; and all this because the divine Word of Scripture proclaims the theology of the cross, because the Scriptures lead us to Christ. All Scripture and Christian doctrine and preaching and confession have their authority and power not only because they are revealed by God and because the Holy Spirit powerfully works through these means, but because of their divine message, because they point to Christ and His grace and proclaim the “foolishness” of the cross.

But Melanchthon, by calling justification the chief teaching (praecipuus locus) of our faith, is saying more about the article of justification and the theology of the cross than merely its hermeneutical function. It is the source of “abundant comfort” for “troubled consciences.” This is an immensely important assertion of Melanchthon’s which draws directly from Luther’s theology of the cross. Speaking of the inestimable value of the article of justification Luther rhapsodizes:

For the issue here is nothing trivial to Paul. It is the principal doctrine [articulus] of Christianity. When this is recognized and held before one’s eyes, everything else seems vile and worthless. For what is Peter? What is Paul? What is an angel from heaven? What is all creation in comparison with the doctrine of justification? Therefore if you see this threatened or endangered, do not be afraid to stand up against Peter or an angel from heaven. For this cannot be praised highly enough.

Luther points out that Paul is opposing not the apostolicity of Peter when he makes his comments in Galatians 2:11, but the practice of Peter, which seemed to yield something to the Judaizers and thus endangered “the majesty and doctrine of justification.” Luther continues: “When it comes to the defense and truth of the Gospel, therefore, we are not embarrassed to have the hypocrites accuse us of being proud and stubborn, the ones who think that they alone have the truth.” [7]

From the above citation we learn that the justification of the sinner before God for Christ’s sake was not only the principal doctrine of Christianity for Luther but the very essence of Christianity. It is the essence of the gospel itself and of the Christian faith and life. It is the reason for all that exists. It is the only doctrine or message which can offer a poor sinner hope, salvation, and life and fellowship with God.

For Luther to lose the doctrine of justification would be to lose the very grace of God and the peace offered by Christ and the gospel. To lose the theology of the cross would make one prey to the Devil and every kind of heresy.

For if we lose the doctrine of justification, we simply lose everything. Hence the most necessary and important thing is that we teach and repeat this doctrine daily as Moses says about the Law (Deuteronomy 6:7). For it cannot be grasped or be held enough or too much. In fact, though we may urge and articulate it vigorously, no one grasps it perfectly or believes it with all his heart. So frail is our flesh and so disobedient to the Spirit. [8] 

“Grace” and “peace” contain a “summary of all Christianity,” and grace and peace are impossible unless we first learn to know the forgiveness we have through Christ. For to take away this article is to take away Christ the “Propitiator.” [9] 

Only Christ can make atonement to God, not works, fasts, cowl and tonsure, and meditation. Without Him we inevitably enter into horrible despair and “lose God and everything.” True theology, the theology of the Cross, begins by taking hold of salvation in Christ, to “begin where Christ began—in the virgin’s womb, in the manger, and at His mother’s breast.” For this purpose He came down, was born, lived among men, suffered, and was crucified, and died, so that in every possible way He might present Himself to our sight. He wanted us to fix the gaze of our hearts upon Him and thus to prevent us from clamoring into heaven and speculating about the divine majesty. 

Therefore, whenever you consider the doctrine [locus] of justification and wonder how or where or in what condition to find a God who justifies and accepts sinners, then you must know that there is no other God than this man Jesus Christ. Take hold of Him. Cling to Him with all your heart, and spurn all speculation about the divine majesty; for whoever investigates the mystery of God will be consumed by His glory. [10]

This statement of Luther pertaining to the doctrine of justification is an excellent description of his theology of the cross. We note that the very incarnation and birth of Christ took place and are preached for the sake of Christ’s crucifixion, His atonement, the theology of the cross.

And Luther knows what he is talking about, because he has experienced the theology of the cross himself, and he concludes this section by saying: “Take note, therefore, in the doctrine [causa] of justification that when we all must struggle with the Law, sin, death, and the devil, we must look at no other God than this incarnate and human God.”

Luther is most insistent that Jesus Christ be linked with God the Father. The theology of the cross does not consist of some kind of sweet Jesus Christo-monism. In no way is the second article of our faith separated from the first or the third. To Luther all theology, all language about God, constitutes one organic whole, and the “center of the circle” is Christ. And so the center of the article of justification and the center of all theology is the crucified Christ:

[Christ] should be such a treasure to me that in comparison with Him everything else is filthy. He should be such a light to me that when I have taken hold of Him by faith, I do not know whether there is such a thing as Law, sin, or righteousness in the world. For what is everything in heaven and on earth in comparison with the Son of God? [11]

These words of Luther constitute the Christian’s response to the theology of the cross, namely, “Faith which is the highest worship of God.”

The theology of the cross is not learned overnight, and it can be easily lost. The doctrine of justification by grace for the sake of Christ’s atoning suffering and death is a slippery thing. It is, as Luther says, a foolish doctrine. [12] That God’s Son would become incarnate, suffer, and die for the sins of the world is inconceivable to common sense and reason, and we are tempted in a hundred ways to discard such a theology or relegate it to the periphery of our religion or alter its meaning. Luther and Lutheranism are well aware of this fact. On one occasion Luther wrote, “On my heart one article alone rules supreme, that of faith in Christ, by whom, through whom and in whom all my theological thinking flows back and forth day and night.” [13] So totally is he taken up in the theology of the cross! But then he immediately confesses, “And still I find that I grasp this so high and broad and deep a wisdom only in a poor and weak and fragmentary manner.” In his commentary on Paul’s epistle to the Galatians he confesses this slippery nature of the gospel even more strongly:

Now the matter of justification is a slippery thing, not because of itself—for in itself it is absolutely sure and certain—but it is slippery in respect to us. I myself have often experienced this. For I know in what hours of darkness I sometimes wrestle. I know how many times I suddenly lose the rays of the gospel and of grace, as though they were covered with a dense cloud. And I know what a slippery place those occupy who seem to be so well exercised in this matter and to have such a firm footing. We have had abundant experience in this matter; and therefore we can teach it to others, which is a certain sign that we understand it. For no one is able to teach others what he doesn’t know himself ... But when in present trouble we ought to use the Gospel which is the Word of grace and comfort and life, then the Law, the Word of wrath and bitterness and death, obscures the Gospel and begins to rage, and the horrors it begets in the conscience are no less severe than what was brought forth by that horrible spectacle on Mount Sinai. Thus only one passage of threatening in the Scripture ruins and vitiates all comfort and so strikes away at all our inward powers that we completely forget justification, grace, Christ, and the Gospel. Therefore with respect to us it is a slippery matter because we are slippery. [14]

Just as Lutheranism in its preaching and confession follows Luther’s adherence to the theologia crucis, so also those of us who hold such a treasure know that we are in constant danger of losing it or defiling it, and we live according to the first of Luther’s Ninety-five Theses: “When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said, ‘Repent’ [Matt. 4:17], He willed the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.” [15]

The reader will no doubt have observed that I have used the term “theology of the cross” interchangeably with the doctrine of justification by grace, or the teaching of redemption and the vicarious atonement through Christ’s suffering and death. This is altogether warranted. Actually Luther seldom uses the term “theology of the cross” as such. But he is constantly referring to the theme as the real meaning and center of the Christian gospel. His most significant discussion which actually uses the term theologia crucis is in his Heidelberg Disputation of 1518, early in his career. [16] There he shows the theology of the cross is simply the way God reveals Himself graciously to man, namely, as a poor suffering human dying for the sins of the world. There Luther tells us that the theology of the cross is the revelation of God, the very opposite of God’s glory which no man can see or conceive. This basic theme runs through all of Luther’s works. God can be known only through the revelation of His Son who came to us and for us in the flesh, and then only by His suffering. Thus Luther can say, “Therefore in the crucified Christ is true theology and the knowledge [cognitio] of God.” [17] Again Luther says, “God can only be found in sufferings and the Cross.” And so the crucifixion of Christ is indeed the revelation of God, and the theology of the cross is the only true theology open to fallen man. This is the foolishness of the gospel.

It is important to note that Luther’s theology of the cross is not some novel animadversion or theory that underlies Luther’s entire theology and represents his correct, but private, reading of the Scriptures. We note once again that the Lutheran Confessions represent as central this theology of the cross. The Augsburg Confession clusters all articles around Article III and IV on the work of Christ and justification. In the Apology of the Augsburg Confession Melanchthon’s most crucial exegesis and argumentation concerns the theology of the cross (Articles IV, XII, XIX, XXI, XXIV). Already we have seen how in Luther’s Smalcald Articles all discussion is carried on and coordinated to the if “chief article” of Christ’s work of redemption.

In recent years there has been a certain amount of theological discussion, some edifying and some not, on Luther’s theology of the cross. By far the most significant contribution to the discussion, which perhaps initiated much of the interest in the subject, was a brief article written by Hermann Sasse in the 1940s and titled “Luther’s Theologia Crucis.” The article appeared in translation in The Lutheran Outlook in October 1951. It was translated again by Norman Nagel and appears in a collection of essays titled We Confess Jesus Christ. Sasse’s position is that “Theology is theology of the Cross, nothing less. A theology that would be something else is a false theology.” [18] Then Sasse says:

Many Christians regard this [the theology of the cross] as gross one-sidedness. The cross is only a part of the Christian message, along with others. The Second Article is not the whole Creed, and even within the Second Article the cross is only one fact of salvation among others. What a constriction of Christian truth Luther has been guilty of! Nowadays you can even hear Lutherans saying this sort of thing. How can Christian theology be limited to a theology of the cross, as if there were not also a theology of the resurrection, as if the theology of the Second Article were not in need of being amplified by the Third, by a theology of the Holy Spirit and His work in the church as its means of grace and in the saints then and now? [19]

Sasse responds to these objections by Lutherans and others:

Obviously the “theology of the cross” does not mean that for a theologian the church year shrinks together into nothing but Good Friday. Rather, it means that Christmas, Easter, and Pentecost cannot be understood without Good Friday…. Always it is from the cross that everything is understood, because hidden in the cross is the deepest essence of God’s revelation. Because this is so, Luther’s theologia crucis (theology of the cross) wants to be more than just one of many theological theories that have appeared in Christian history. It stands against its opposite, the prevailing theology in Christendom, that theologia gloriae (theology of glory), as Luther calls it, and claims to be that right and Scriptural theology with which the church of Christ stands and falls. Only of the preaching of this theology, Luther maintains, can it be said that it is the preaching of the Gospel. [20]

Then Sasse explains what the theology of the cross is, centering as it does in the work of Christ and the doctrine of justification by grace. [21]

II. Law And Gospel: The Theology Of The Cross In Its Context

The distinguishing mark of the theology of Luther and Lutheranism is the theology of the cross. A complementary mark of Lutheranism is to present the theology of the cross in the context of law and gospel. In the Apology of the Augsburg Confession Melanchthon defines the law and gospel as the two chief teachings, or themes (loci), revealed in Scripture. He summarizes Luther’s view as follows:

All Scripture should be divided into these two chief doctrines [duos locos praecipuos], the Law and the promises [Gospel]. In some places it presents the Law. In others it presents the promise of Christ; this it does either when it promises that the Messiah will come and promises forgiveness of sins, justification, and eternal life for His sake, or when, in the New Testament, the Christ who came promises forgiveness of sins, justification, and eternal life. By “Law” in this discussion we mean the commandments of the Decalogue, wherever they appear in the Scriptures (Apology IV, 5).

The proper distinction between law and gospel is the most important task a preacher can carry out, for the failure to do so will turn the theology of the cross into a false theology of glory, of some kind or other. [22] This concern is repeated again and again by Lutherans to this very day. In the Formula of Concord a passage expresses this deep concern in its discussion of “Law and Gospel.”

The distinction between Law and Gospel is an especially brilliant light which serves the purpose that the Word of God may be rightly divided and the writings of the Holy Prophets and Apostles may be explained and understood correctly. We must therefore observe this distinction with particular diligence lest we confuse the two doctrines and change the Gospel into Law. This would darken the merit of Christ and rob disturbed consciences of the comfort which they would otherwise have in the holy Gospel when it is preached purely and without admixture, whereby Christians can support themselves in their greatest temptations against the terrors of the Law (FC, SD V, 1).

For the Scriptures teach two doctrines which are in utter conflict with each other. The law tells us of our sin and guilt before God and of His terrible wrath against us. The gospel promises forgiveness, grace, eternal life because of the Son of God who bore God’s wrath as a victim on the cross (the theology of the cross). Both of these doctrines are clearly taught in Scripture, and they must be preached and taught in the church in a way that they be not confused. People by nature believe that they can be saved by the law, by their own character or works, that is, if they believe in any kind of salvation.

The law, which reveals our sin and guilt before God and God’s wrath against sinners, is a presupposition for understanding the theology of the cross, for believing the gospel. The incarnation of Christ, His sermons, His good works in obedience to God’s law, His penal suffering and death and resurrection are completely unnecessary, if man is not a sinner and God is not angry at sin. No one will rightly understand or value the work of Christ and the comfort to be found in the theology of the cross who has not become convinced of his own sin and guilt before God. This basic fact is taught throughout the Scriptures.

But also throughout the Scriptures it is taught that men do not believe in their own sinfulness or take it seriously, and certainly often do not think that God is angry at all, that is, if they believe in God at all. In fact, in our relativistic, materialistic, skeptical day modern man scorns the very idea of any kind of final truth: Neither the accusations of the law nor the promises of the gospel are understood and believed. In fact, in the modern Western world many are merely nominal Christians, culture Christians, practical atheists. It is necessary, therefore, that the law be presented to these people, as well as to the Christian community. For the prime purpose of the law is to reveal man’s sin and guilt before God.

Most people, of course, tend to recognize the reality of sin in some sense or other, even those who have not learned this from the Word of God. In the tradition of Western Christendom there has always been a notion of natural law, and from the time of Aristotle numerous books have been written on the subject of ethics. And in most pagan cultures vain worship and sacrifices and works have indicated a sense of law and sin. However—and this is most important—it is only from God’s supernatural revelation that we learn the whole story of the depravity, the radical evil, and lost condition of man. Only from the revelation of God do we understand that man not only sins and deviates from human or divine norms of behavior, but is in fact a sinner before God and is guilty and lost in His sight. This fact is put clearly in Luther’s Smalcald Articles (III, I, 3): “This hereditary sin is so deep and horrible a corruption of nature that no reason can understand it, but it must be believed from the revelation of Scriptures, Psalm 51:5; Romans 5:12 ....”

In Scripture we learn the hopelessness of trying to atone for our sins and reconcile ourselves with God by our own will or efforts. The paradigm of one who knows that he is not merely guilty of this or that slight infraction of divine law, but stands before God as a sinner, is the Publican in the temple, according to Jesus’ parable. His simple prayer is this: “God, be merciful to me, the sinner” (Luke 18:13). His prayer is that God be no longer angry with him (hilastheeti). He stands before God as “the sinner” (ho hamartolos). I was once asked by a professor of theology whether one ought to confess one’s original sin. I replied that the confession of the Publican in the temple is just such a confession. And I added the confession from our Lutheran order of service, “We confess unto Thee that we are by nature sinful and unclean ...” Luther rightly says (SA III, III, 36), “[Repentance] does not debate what is sin and what is not sin, but lumps everything together and says, ‘We are wholly and altogether sinful.’“

And so the law which teaches man to know his own sinfulness, his own radical evil, and guilt before God and reveals the wrath of God against all sin must be preached before the gospel, if the gospel, the theology of the cross, can mean anything to a sinful person.

This basic biblical and Lutheran orientation, which has been essentially followed in the Reformed and Roman Catholic tradition as they teach and practice the doctrine of repentance, has been turned on its head in modern times by what we might call the neo-Antinomianism of Karl Barth and his disciples. Barth insists [23] that there is simply no place for an autonomous section in any dogmatics on the subject of sin. In other words, you must know Christ as your Savior before you can know that you are a sinner. To Barth the theology of the cross, which he eloquently presents at times, reveals both the sin of man and the grace and forgiveness of God. Barth is right, of course, when he says that one cannot have a true understanding of sin unless he knows that sin is against God. And he criticizes severely the liberalism of former generations of theologians like Schleiermacher. Barth quotes Luther, of all people, to prove his point. In his Table Talk Luther says:

We do not count sin as anything very great, but toss it to the wind as though it were a little thing which is nothing. And even if it comes about that sin bites into our conscience we think that it is not so very great but we can wipe it out with a little work or merit. But if we see the greatness of the precious treasure which is given for it, we will then be made aware that sin is a great and mighty thing, that we can never wipe it out with our own works or powers, but that the Son of God had to be offered up to do this. If we take this to heart and consider it well, we will understand what the word sin includes, the wrath of God as well as the whole kingdom of Satan, and that sin is not such a small and light thing as the complacent world dreams and thinks. [24]

It is clear that Luther, with all his allusions to the theology of the cross, is preaching law at this point and not gospel. He is speaking to Christian people and reminding them of the enormity of their sin which brought about the death of Christ. Johan Heermann makes the same point in one of the stanzas of his great passion hymn:

Who was the guilty? Who brought this upon Thee?
Alas, my treason, Jesus, hath undone Thee!
Twas I, Lord Jesus, I it was denied Thee:
I crucified Thee.

Again Barth quotes Luther as he is cited in the Formula of Concord (FC SD, V, 13): “Yea, what more forcible, more terrible declaration and preaching of God’s wrath against sin is there than just the suffering and death of Christ, His Son?”

This indeed sounds as though the gospel reveals sin and guilt to man. But Barth has omitted what Luther adds immediately to the words just spoken.

But as long as all this preaches God’s wrath and terrifies men, it is not yet the preaching of the Gospel nor Christ’s own preaching, but that of Moses and the Law against the impenitent. For the Gospel and Christ were never ordained or given for the purpose of terrifying and condemning, but of comforting and cheering those who are terrified and timid.

Luther is a master at preaching sin and law by alluding to the cross and what happened there. [25]

Yes, the cross can be preached in such a way that it frightens and terrifies sinners. Luther and the Confessions and our hymns, too, teach that the horrible character of sin is revealed in the cross. Think of Paul Gerhardt’s Good Friday hymn:

Lord, from Thy sorrows I will learn
How fiercely wrath divine doth burn,
How terribly its thunders roll;
How sorely this our loving God
Doth smite with His avenging rod;
How deep His floods o’erwhelm the soul.

Adolf Köberle puts the matter eloquently:

So in the shadow of Good Friday the roads of salvation lead to the final station of that mountain they seek to surmount, where there is written perfecta cognitio sui ipsius—the recognition of the sinfulness of all our ways. The cross of Christ forces us to turn about. It is true that we can still defy even this crucifixion sermon of God, which speaks so much more convincingly than any personal message of conscience; we can continue in our previous course, trying to bring an imaginary satisfaction to God and a false quietness to our restless heart. Even here we can again try to escape the accusing reality of hard facts by submerging ourselves in some mysterious unity. But in this way we only pile up new guilt, become more and more involved in rebellion against God, who, in the death of Jesus Christ, has spoken His final judgment on every human attempt at self-salvation. We must abandon the intoxication of an apotheosis. The twenty-fifth chapter of job has spoken the final word: “How then can a man be justified with God? Or how can he be clean that is born of a woman? Behold even to the moon and it shineth not; yea the stars are not pure in His sight. How much less man...” On the ruins of a perished glory humble man learns to seek the Word of the Gospel. [26]

But the order is always kept straight. Sin is preached and then grace; law then gospel. The words of Speratus will always ring true:

The Law reveals the guilt of sin,
And makes men conscience-stricken;
The Gospel then doth enter in,
The sin-sick soul to quicken:
Come to the Cross, look up and live!
The Law no peace to thee doth give,
Nor can its deeds afford it.

Sin, Law, and guilt are the absolutely necessary presuppositions for the preaching of the atonement, the theology of the cross. Karl Barth’s entire thesis tumbles in the face of the clear words of Romans 3:20, “For through the law comes the knowledge of sin,” and by the preaching practice of Christ and the apostles. [27]

When speaking of sin and guilt as a presupposition for the preaching of the theology of the cross and the atonement, we must point out that sin must never be toned down but taken seriously and preached seriously. Otherwise the sweetness of the theology of the cross will be ignored and set aside. The history of the church is filled with examples where synergism prevailed and the doctrine of justification is either contaminated or rejected outright. We see this in the case of Rome, Socinianism, Unitarianism, modernism, liberalism, etc. Here we might recall Staupitz’ words to Luther that as long as he thought of himself as only a painted sinner, Christ was then only a painted Savior. Sin must be preached in all its severity. Let me quote one more of Luther’s remarkable statements on this point. I was actually warned by a colleague against quoting in a sermon I preached this statement of Luther’s because he thought it would be dangerous for students to hear it, but I am sure that one who understands the theology of the cross will not be offended.

If you are a preacher of God’s grace, then preach not an invented, but a real grace. If it is real grace, then you dare not bring up any invented sin. God does not justify imaginary sinners. Be a sinner and sin boldly (pecca fortiter), but believe more boldly and rejoice in Christ the Victor over sin, death, and the world. We sin as long as we are here. Life is no house of righteousness. It is enough to confess the Lamb who carries the sin of the world. From Him no sin can separate us, even if we whored and murdered a thousand times a day. Do you think the redemption and price is so small which such a Lamb paid for our sins? Pray boldly, for you are a bold sinner. [28]

Melanchthon, to whom these words were addressed, probably did not understand them fully, and neither have many other people. [29] After citing many, many examples of man’s futile attempts to approach God or whatever he thinks to be God by his own acts of will, decision, emotion, or intellect, Köberle says the following:

In the Old Testament piety, the attitude is a different one. Here men are sure that if every sin is an affront to God’s majesty and a mocking of His holy will, then forgiveness can neither be taken for granted nor be acquired. Only a single way of salvation lies open, a way that man himself does not control, namely, when God Himself through a paradoxical free eudokia which cannot be forced nor set in motion by any human means, decides to overlook and pardon sin, and so by His act, makes communion possible! The statement to the palsied Israelite, “Son, be of good cheer, your sins are forgiven,” could be the words of only a blasphemer—or the words of God Himself. In Israel the proclamation of the remission of guilt could never mean that the fear of God is only a fancy springing from an unwholesome unhealthy exaggeration in the fears of conscience, which needs only to be overcome to enable man to live with free assurance in the gracious light of divine love. This religious fallacy has been once for all excluded and forbidden in the Bible by the terrible seriousness of its warnings concerning judgment as they are found in the messages of the great prophets and in the eschatological discourses of Jesus.

When Jesus brings forgiveness unconditionally, He can do so only because He knows that He has come from the One who is the source of the free decree of love and that He is in unity with Him; because He knows that He is indeed the coming Messiah, in whom God anew approaches the humanity that has become estranged from His will. The miracle of His presence is the pledge that God has taken pity on the world. He has not constituted Himself the Reconciler, but God has appointed Him. His word of absolution is finally established on His absolute knowledge of His mission.

Many themes and deep realities constitute the preaching of God’s law. Most essential to the biblical doctrine is that God is angry (our Confessions say “horribly angry” [horribiliter irasci]) (Apology IV, 129). That God is angry against sin and wickedness is surely an unpleasant and disagreeable thought, a terrifying thought, which some have found hard to reconcile with a loving God. But the wrath of God is a fact which is taught with such frequency and clarity in Scripture that it cannot be demythologized or deanthropomorphized, or wished away. For the wrath of God, like His love, is not some quiescent, otiose potentiality or quality in God, but “the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who suppress the truth in unrighteousness” (Rom. 1:18). Divine vengeance and destruction upon sin really take place in real history (Isa. 30:27–28): “Behold, the name of the Lord cometh from a remote place, burning is His anger, and dense is His smoke; His lips are filled with indignation, and His tongue is like a consuming fire; and His breath is like an overflowing torrent, which reaches to the neck, to shake the nations back and forth in a sieve, and to put in the jaws of the people the bridle which leads to ruin.” Hosea 5:10–11: “The princes of Judah have become like those who move a boundary. On them will I pour out My wrath like water.” Micah 5:14–15: “I will root out your Asherim from among you and destroy your cities. And I will execute vengeance in anger and wrath on the nations which have not obeyed.” Such passages from the Old Testament show that the anger of God is active, not some inert grudge against the actions of mankind. And the New Testament says the same. Ephesians 5:6: “Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of these things [filthiness, foolish talking, whoring, etc.], the wrath of God [hee orgee tou theou] comes upon the sons of disobedience.”

It is not correct to say that God hates sin but not the sinner. Scripture goes further than that. Psalm 5:4–6: “For Thou art not a God who takes pleasure in wickedness; no evil dwells with Thee. The boastful shall not stand before Thine eyes; Thou dost hate all who do iniquity. Thou dost destroy those who speak falsehood; the Lord abhors the man of bloodshed and deceit.” (Cf. Ps. 7:11f.; 11:5.) It is man the sinner who commits sin. It is man the sinner whom God punishes. Impenitent sinners, not some abstraction called sin, are condemned to eternal perdition. This fact, that God hates sinners, is important not only for the correct preaching of the law, but for the correct teaching of the theology of the cross. The vicarious atonement simply means that Christ, the God-man, suffered the wrath of God against all sinners in the place of the sinners themselves. This is the heart of the gospel, the foolishness of the cross.

The fact of the wrath of God proclaimed throughout the Scriptures and revealed from heaven does not seem to square for many people with the idea of a loving God. Of course, we might expect this troubled reaction. The law does not square with the gospel. The great liberal theologian Albrecht Ritschl was unable to harmonize God’s wrath with His love and, therefore, criticizes severely Luther’s doctrine of reconciliation:

Moreover, a plain contradiction is involved in the way in which Luther derives reconciliation from the love of God, but at the same time derives from the wrath of God the satisfaction which Christ has to work out through the vicarious endurance of punishment. For it is impossible to conceive sinners, at the same time and in the same respect, as objects both of God’s love and God’s wrath. [30]

That a teaching is inconceivable is a poor reason for rejecting it. Ritschl cannot harmonize the love and wrath of God, so he denies the wrath of God. But if there is no wrath of God against sin and sinners, what does Paul mean when he says that God sent His Son “for sin” [peri hamartias] (Rom. 8:3)? What does he mean when he says that Christ has loved us and “gave Himself up for us, an offering and sacrifice to God” (Eph. 5:2)? What does Peter mean when he says, “Christ also has died for sins once for all, the just for the unjust, in order that He might bring us to God” (1 Peter 3:18)? What does Isaiah mean when he says that Christ carried our sorrows, that He was “smitten of God and afflicted, “ that “He was pierced for our transgressions, “ that “the Lord has caused the iniquity of us all to fall on Him” (Isa. 53)?

In denying the wrath of God Ritschl has actually denied the grace of God. [31] Ritschl seems to be arguing that if there is divine wrath, then there is no divine love. Karl Barth dialectically counters that if there is no wrath, there is no love either. Ironically, in the mystery of the theology of the cross both God’s wrath and love are merged. In Christ’s crucifixion His wrath succumbs to His love, and He saves us. How beautifully Paul Gerhardt put this in his Lenten hymn:

A Lamb goes uncomplaining forth,
The guilt of all men bearing;
Laden with the sins of earth,
None else the burden sharing!
Goes patient on, grows weak and faint,
To slaughter led without complaint,
That spotless life to offer;
Bears shame, and stripes, and wounds and death,
Anguish and mockery, and saith,
“Willing all this I suffer.”

That Lamb is Lord of death and life,
God over all forever;
The Father’s Son, whom to that strife
Love doth for us deliver!
Almighty Love! What hast Thou done!
The Father offers up His Son—
The Son content descendeth!
O Love, O Love! How strong art Thou!
In shroud and grave Thou lay’st Him low
Whose word the mountains rendeth!

In the cross God’s wrath against sin was satisfied. This was an act of divine love, and righteousness now is promised in the gospel. “For He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him” (2 Cor. 5:21).

The medieval scholastic theologian, Peter Damian, taught that God is so powerful that He can make the past so that it never happened. This is not true. Our God is a righteous God, righteous in His condemnation of sinners, and righteous in His absolution of the world through the vicarious death and resurrection of Christ. And so as the apostle Paul says in Romans 3:26—right in the midst of his classic discussion of justification by faith—God is just as He justifies those who have faith in Jesus. Since man cannot pay his debt to God, God pays it for him at the supreme sacrifice of His only begotten Son. It cost God His greatest treasure to save us and deliver us from divine wrath. Luther alludes to this often, the great “cost” to God revealed in the theology of the cross.

I have often said that faith in God is not enough, but there must also be a cost. And what is the cost? For the Jews and Turks believe too, but without means or cost. The gospel shows us what the cost is. For the Holy Spirit teaches therein that we do not have the Father without means and we cannot go to the Father without means. Here Christ teaches us that we are not lost, but have eternal life, that is that God loved us so much that He was willing to pay the cost of thrusting His own dear Son into our misery, hell and death and having Him drink that cup. That is the way in which we are saved. [32]

Luther puts the same thought beautifully in his well-known hymn, “Dear Christians, One and All Rejoice”:

Then God beheld my wretched state
With deep commiseration;
He thought upon His mercy great,
And willed my soul’s salvation;
He turned to me a Father’s heart;
Not small the cost! To heal my smart,
He gave His best and dearest.

Ritschl and his ilk, in whatever culture they may find themselves, by denying the wrath of God, have turned their backs on the theology of the cross. The converted Jew, Philippi, has answered the watered-down theology of Ritschl and classical liberalism as follows:

He who takes away from me the atoning blood of the Son of God, paid as a ransom to the wrath of God, who takes away the satisfaction of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, vicariously given to the penal justice of God; who hereby takes away justification or forgiveness of sins only by faith in the merits of this my Surety and Mediator, who takes away the imputation of the righteousness of Jesus Christ, takes away Christianity altogether, so far as I am concerned. I might then just as well have adhered to the religion of my ancestors, the seed of Abraham after the flesh. [33]

Philippi’s witness to Christ crucified leads us into the very essence of the theology of the cross, the vicarious atonement of Jesus, initiated at His very incarnation, but culminating on Good Friday.

Let us now trace the biblical basis for the theology of the cross. One word, more than any other, depicts the life of Christ from beginning to end, Christ’s life of love and suffering and death. It is the word “obedience,” a precious word to us, when we consider that this obedience was vicarious, for us; when we consider that it was no small thing for Him, who was in the very form of God, to become obedient unto death (Phil. 2:8), and that the Son of God must through suffering learn obedience (Heb. 5:8). Christ came with a mission (John 5:38; 12:47). He was sent by the Father (John 3:47; 4:34), and He must carry out what His Father has sent Him to do (John 9:4; Luke 2:49). His mission, essentially, is to die for the sins of the world (Matt. 16:21; John 1:29). He would do this as the “Servant of the Lord” (Isa. 42:1–5; 52:13–53:12; Ps. 40:7–9). By His willing obedience of God’s Law and His obedience unto death (John 10:18; Phil. 2:8; Gal. 2:20; Eph. 5:2) Jesus Christ would save the whole world.

His willing obedience was for us, for the world, the world of the ungodly (Rom. 5:6; 8:32; 2 Cor. 5:21; 1 Peter 3:18; Rom. 3:13). Christ did not just die on behalf of the whole lost human race or for the benefit of mankind but He died as our Substitute (Gal. 3:13; 1 Peter 3:18; Luke 10:45). This “for us” cannot be overemphasized. We are not talking about a masquerade or an idea or a myth here. Everything in heaven and earth depends upon the fact that Christ took up our cause and put Himself in our place. This great fact, this “blessed exchange” and its results are brought out by many biblical motifs.

1) Christ is our Sacrifice. Christ’s crucifixion is called throughout Scripture a “sacrifice” (thusia) and “offering” (prosphora). He is both the great High Priest (Heb. 4:14, 7:1f.) and the Sacrifice (Heb. 9:23, 26; Eph. 5:2; John 1:29; 1 Peter 1:19). This terminology is closely connected with the language of ransom, for it is by His sacrifice that Christ paid our ransom and the ransom was for all (1 Tim. 2:5–6).

Christ’s sacrificial atoning death on the cross was prophesied and typified in the Old Testament. At the time of Moses sacrifices were appointed by God for the purpose of bringing God and man together. By God’s institution the blood of bulls and goats became a means of grace: “For the life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have given it to you on the altar to make atonement for your souls; for it is the blood by reason of the life that makes atonement for the soul” (Lev. 17:11). It is clear that these sin offerings in the Old Testament were propitiatory sacrifices. The slain animal was offered not merely for the benefit of the sinner but in the place of the offender whose sin made him guilty of death. These sacrifices were vicarious because God appointed them to be so. On his own initiative man cannot offer anything to God which will make satisfaction for his sin. Moses wanted to give his own life for Israel, but God refused (Ex. 32:31f.). Only the offerings appointed by God are of value. Therefore the people were instructed to bring forth only the sacrifices which God approves. “Offer the sacrifices of righteousness,” the psalmist says (Ps. 4:5).

These sacrifices were vicarious because they pointed to Christ’s sacrifice; they had their atoning power in His death and sacrifice on the cross. In themselves they were not enough; they were only promise, a shadow of things to come (Heb. 1:4). They all typified the one Lamb of God “who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). The word airoo means both to bear and to take away; both connotations are included in this passage. The Lamb takes our sin on the altar of the cross and bears it Himself. Thus we are redeemed “with the precious blood, of a Lamb unblemished and spotless, the blood of Christ” (1 Peter 1:19).

The guilt of all men has been transferred to Christ. This great fact is brought into sharp relief by two remarkable passages in Paul’s writings. Galatians 3:13 tells us that Christ has been made a “curse” for us and thus redeemed us from the law’s curse. Christ is not merely called cursed but He became a curse. Similarly, Paul in 2 Corinthians 5:21 says that God made Christ to be “sin” for us. Again he is not merely called sin but is made sin. All the sins of the world gravitate to Him. The apostle Paul in these two verses is obviously drawing from Isaiah 53 and other Old Testament passages. There in Isaiah the Servant is charged with our sins, and our sins smite Him and afflict Him. God lays our sins on Him, bruises Him for our sins, puts Him to grief, and makes His life an offering for our sin. Of this matter August Pieper in his great commentary on Isaiah comments:

This Servant was above all others the object, the goal of suffering; He is sought as one on earth whom suffering really had in mind. Like a magnet He drew to Himself all the suffering of this curse of earth. And these pains and suffering are not just outward infirmities, but guilt and wrath and curse and punishment which have been removed from us and cast on Him. [34]

2) Christ is our Redemption (satisfaction). The result of Christ’s sacrifice was the redemption of the world. The blood of the Lamb was a penal death. He died as one punished by God, as one under God’s wrath and curse. The ancient church called this satisfaction. God is satisfied. The New Testament word which most typifies this result of Christ’s suffering and death is the term redemption. We are told in Scripture that Christ redeemed us from the curse and dominion of the law with a price, namely, His blood (Acts 20:28; 1 Cor. 6:20; 7:23). The purchase price is called a ransom (Matt. 20:28). The ransom is demanded by God’s law (Col. 2:13–14; Eph. 2:15), and the ransom is for sin (Rom. 8:3; 1 Peter 3:18) which is committed against God (Ps. 51:4, etc.). The ransom frees us. Note the prefix in exagoradzoo (Gal. 3:13; 4:15; compare also Rom. 3:24; 1 Cor. 1:30; Col. 1:14). In the old Greek papyri the “ransom” (lutron) was the purchase price by which slaves were set free. Jesus nailed the accusations of the law which stood against us to the Cross, and thus wiped them out and freed us from them (Col. 2:14).

By means of this purchase price those who are redeemed become the possession of the Redeemer. Paul says that God purchased the church with His own blood. The word “purchased” here is used in the middle mood and means to purchase or acquire something for one’s self, as one’s own possession. In 1 Peter 2:9 the apostle calls us a “people for God’s own possession.” We have confessed this since childhood in Luther’s Small Catechism: “Who has redeemed me, a lost and condemned creature, purchased and won me from sin, death, and from the power of the devil ... that I might be His own....” Now the lives of all sinners have been ransomed. Christ has paid the price, the price which will satisfy perfectly the claims of God. The death of Jesus, the Lamb without blemish, was the full price, satisfying all the claims of God’s justice against us.

3) Christ is our Propitiation. The ransom which Christ paid brings about propitiation. God’s justice is satisfied and His anger stilled. This is expressed in the Hebrew word kipper, which means “to cover,” but also “to pacify by covering over,” “to propitiate.” It is rendered in the King James Version by “make atonement,” at-one-ment (reconciliation) (cf. Ex. 30:10, 15). And so God is at peace with us. Angels declared this peace on Christmas day. The “day of atonement” presaged this peace throughout the Old Testament. On that day of atonement the high priest went into the Holy of Holies. There was the Ark of the Covenant with its cover called the “mercy seat” (caporeth, hilasteerion). The blood of the sin offering was sprinkled on this mercy seat, enveloped by a cloud of incense. This was the act of propitiation. In the New Testament Jesus is our mercy seat: “Whom God displayed publicly as a propitiation (hilasteerion; mercy seat) in His blood through faith. This was to demonstrate His righteousness, because in the forebearance of God He passed over the sins previously committed” (Rom. 3:25).

It is important to understand that on the day of atonement in the Old Testament and on the cross it was God who once and for all was propitiated, not man. There are many who do not care for a theology which speaks of an angry God who is propitiated, of a God who turns away His wrath and then forgives for the sake of Christ, His Son. But this is exactly what happens (Ps. 78:38). Listen to Luther extol this great fact of our propitiation:

We have a Propitiator before God, and Christ makes God into a kind and merciful Father. From birth and from our own reason man has nothing but sin and corruption by which he deserves God’s wrath. For God is an everlasting righteousness and brightness who by His nature hates sin. Therefore men and God are always enemies and cannot be friends and agree. For this reason Christ became man and took our sin on Himself and the Father’s wrath, and drowned them both in Himself that He might reconcile us to the Father.... Whatever we receive from God must be got and secured through this Christ who has made Him a gracious Father for us. Christ is our support and our protection under which we hide like little chicks under the wings of the hen. Only through Him may we pray to God and be heard. Only through Him do we receive favor and grace from the Father. For He has made satisfaction for our sins and turned an angry Judge into a kind and merciful God. [35]

4) Christ is our Reconciliation (atonement). This great theme runs through the New Testament, as it interprets the suffering and death of Christ. The verb reconcile (katallasso) means “to change completely, to reconcile.” Reconciliation presupposes estrangement. Where there was once unity and fellowship there is now separation. Reconciliation is the reestablishing of the harmonious relationship: peace between God and man. That Christ has reconciled the world to God is brought out with great clarity in 2 Corinthians 5:18–19: “Now all things are from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ, and gave us the ministry of reconciliation, namely, that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them.” What has happened here is simply this: God taking the initiative has completely changed man’s status. This was done solely through the death of Christ, through His being made sin for us (v. 21). By virtue of Christ’s satisfaction the wrath of God is turned away from us. He does not impute to us our sins. A status of enmity has been changed into a status of peace. The term reconcile in the New Testament is very closely related to the term propitiate. They are both derived from the same Old Testament term, kipper. [36]

Again many modern theologians have rebelled against any idea of reconciliation which considers seriously the law and the wrath of God. It is not a matter of God’s wrath being turned away and love replacing it, they say. We must never say that God is reconciled; God is unchangeable and does not need to be reconciled. It is man who is reconciled in this transaction.

Nothing can be further from the truth. The death of Christ, before it was preached, did not change anyone. Man remained an enemy of God, dead in his sins. What has taken place is that God’s wrath has been removed: “While we were yet sinners (passive, echthroi, that is, hated by God), Christ died for us” (Rom. 5:8; compare Rom. 5:1). Whose enmity did Christ remove on the cross? Not man’s, but God’s. The natural man still hates God. Again we see that God’s wrath is not something that is quiescent. It needs to be taken seriously. Man does not do so, but God does so. [36] God turns away His wrath (Ps. 78:38) for Christ’s sake. This is not an idea merely, a myth, a metaphor which needs to be endlessly demetaphorized; no, it is a great truth of the theology of the cross. “Peace on earth!”

It is tremendously important that we recognize in Christ’s struggle in Gethsemane and on the cross not primarily our Savior’s struggle with men but with God; that we recognize that the victorious struggle of the one true Man effected a change of status for all men. Reconciliation is complete. It is now the business of the church to carry out the “ministry of reconciliation,” to proclaim to the world a finished reconciliation, to preach an unconditioned gospel.

The atonement which Christ has accomplished on the cross is full, applying to all sins of all men; it is complete, and it is universal, applying to all sinners who have lived on the earth. That is why we can and must do mission work. That is why we must carry out the ministry of reconciliation and offer the gospel, the stupendous theology of the cross, Christ’s vicarious atonement to all men everywhere.

III: The Living Word [37]

But how can I become a theologus crucis, a theologian of the cross, a preacher of the cross? How can I come to believe this message of foolishness, a message which tells me that God is terribly angry with me, and at the same time loves me and gives His Son for me? It is through the Word, the infinite power of the Word. The Augsburg Confession makes this point crystal clear (AC V):

In order that we might attain this faith, there has been instituted the ministry of teaching the gospel and dispensing the sacraments. For through Word and sacraments as through instruments the Holy Spirit is given, who works faith when and where it pleases God in those who hear the gospel.

Luther puts the matter even more succinctly. Everything Christ has won for us on the cross is summarized in the one word forgiveness; for “where there is forgiveness, there is also life and salvation.” Luther says:

We treat the forgiveness of sins in two ways. First, how it is achieved and won. Second, how it is distributed and given to us. Christ has achieved it on the cross, it is true. But He has not distributed or given it on the cross. He has not won it in the Supper or sacrament. There He has distributed and given it through the Word, as also in the gospel, where it is preached. He has won it once and for all on the cross. But the distribution takes place continuously, before and after, from the beginning to the end of the world. 

Christ on the cross and all His suffering and His death do not avail, even if, as you teach, they are “acknowledged and meditated upon” with the utmost “passion, ardor, heartfeltness.” Something else must always be there. What is it? The Word, the Word. Listen, lying spirit, the Word avails. Even if Christ were given for us and crucified a thousand times, it would all be in vain if the Word of God were absent and were not distributed and given to me with the bidding, this is for you, take it, take what is yours. 

If now I seek the forgiveness of sins, I do not run to the cross, for I will not find it there. Nor must I hold to the suffering of Christ, as Carlstadt trifles, in knowledge or remembrance, for I will not find it there either. But I will find in the sacrament or gospel, the Word which distributes, presents, offers, and gives me that forgiveness which was won on the cross. [38]

But where is this Word of God which brings us all the benefits of the cross? If “to know Christ is to know His benefits,” as Melanchthon said, how do I learn to know His benefits? What is the Word of God? Has God spoken at all?

The answer to these questions would have been simple in Luther’s day. But it is not so simple today when people are finding the Word of God in ever new visions, insight, ecstasy, experience; or do not believe that there is any Word from God at all, and one must find Him once again as the philosophers tried to do, and failed, through speculation and induction. The so-called scientific method of research, which holds sway at all our universities in political, economic, scientific discussions, is lord and master in our secular society today.

This situation is not new. H. Daniel Friberg, a Lutheran missionary and professor for many years in Tanzania, addressed the question years ago in a provocative little article titled “The Locus of God’s Speaking.“ [39] There Friberg pleaded to go back to the Bible and find the Word of God there, to go to the preaching in our churches and find the Word of God there. But most of modern theology ignores such counsel and continues to speak about some nebulous and distant word which cannot be found or objectified or even repeated, and thus cannot be kept or treasured in our hearts and convey a message to us which will be good news and save us and change our lives. [40]

So let us go to the Scriptures and find out what the Word of God is and where it can be found, and what it says to us and how we can find our Savior there.

Broadly speaking, the Bible tells us that God’s Word is every communication of God to man. He first spoke audibly, walking and talking with the patriarchs. Later He spoke directly to His chosen prophets, and they in turn spoke to the people. The prophet, the man of God, speaks “in the Word of the Lord” and his word comes true (1 Kings 13:32). Thus we have the frequent refrain among the prophets, “Hear therefore the Word of the Lord” (1 Kings 12:24; 22:19; 1 Sam. 9:27; Ps. 81:8). Hearing means heeding, believing (Ps. 85:8; Num. 22:38; 24:4, 16; Isa. 22:14).

At times the Word of God is communicated visibly as in a dream or vision (Isa. 6:1; Ezek. 1). The prophet Micah speaks of seeing the Word of God (Micah 1:1). What was seen in a vision was written down by these prophets for our learning. Often such visions and oral words were recorded in writing, and God actually commanded that this be done. The constant reference in the Old Testament is “thus said the Lord,” or “the Word of the Lord came...” Or at the end of an oracle a prophet will say the words, “the mouth of the Lord has spoken” (Isa. 1:20; 45:23; 58:14; cf. also Matt. 4; 1 Cor. 14:27; 2 Tim. 3:16), thus assuring us that God is the very Author of what He speaks and writes.

At times God has communicated Himself or something about Himself through actions, often called “theophanies.” These actions speak for themselves and authenticate themselves (Isa. 9:8; 45:23; 55:10ff.; Jer. 39:16).

The final Word of God to man, however, is His communication in His Son (Heb. 1:1). He is the personal Word who was with God and is God and who alone reveals God to us (1:18). Therefore God directs us to hear Him (Matt. 17:5). And we hear Him when we hear His apostles whose word is His Word (John 17:14). He sent His apostles into the world to continue His prophetic office (John 20:21). Their word is the continuation of His Word (John 17:8, 18; 1 Cor. 1:10). Their witnessing is His witnessing and the witnessing of His Spirit (John 15:26–27; 16:13; 14:26).

There is no real difference between the authenticity and power of the Word of God whether God spoke to Abraham on the field of Mamre, or to Adam in the Garden of Eden, or to you and me today through the words of His prophets and apostles. Everything is “the Word of God.” Whether Paul preaches to the Corinthians on one of his visits or writes them a letter, it is the same Spirit of God speaking through Paul, God’s Word to them and to us.

This unity of the Word of God, unity which focuses on Christ, the Incarnate Word, is of great comfort to us today. We do not talk and walk with Jesus as did Peter and John. We do not hear the sermons of Paul which carried with them the saving power of God. But we have today in the Scriptures, of the Old and New Testaments, the testimony of the prophets and apostles. As we preach and teach that Word, we know that our preaching and teaching are God’s Word, drawn from those clear fountains of Israel. We must be absolutely certain in this matter. Just as the apostles’ proclamation was a continuation of Christ’s preaching (John 17:8, 18), yes, was His preaching, our testimony is a continuation of their proclamation. We dare to say today with Paul: “My message and my preaching were not in persuasive words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power” (1 Cor. 2:4). We dare to say this because it is His gospel which we preach. We dare even to curse an angel who would proclaim another gospel (Gal. 1:8). We believe as Luther says, “God has placed His Word in our mouth to preach so that He teaches and preaches through us, and we are nothing more than His mouth and tongue.” [41] Let me cite another passage from Luther to indicate the assurance which every minister of the Word should have as he preaches and teaches God’s Word:

On the Last Day God will say to me: “Have you preached that?” And I will answer, “Yes, exactly.” Then God will turn to you and say, “Have you also heard that?” And you will answer, “Yes.” And He will say further, “Why, then, didn’t you believe it?” And you will say, “Oh, I regarded it merely as the word of a man, since a poor chaplain or town pastor spoke it.” Thus shall the same Word which sticks to your heart accuse you and be your judge on the Last Day. For it is God’s Word, it is God Himself whom you have heard, as Christ says, “He that heareth you, heareth me.” I have sufficiently done my office before the tribunal and presence of God, for I have exposed your sins and offenses and reprimanded you for them and I am pure of your blood. Now see how you stand. [42]

Luther in this context is speaking of his preaching God’s law to the people. How much more certain must he be of his message as he preaches the theology of the cross, which he did so faithfully thousands of times?

The fact that we can preach Scripture, that is, the content of the divine Word, and apply it to the people of our day, should be of great comfort to us. What we today proclaim is nothing less than the Word of God. Just as Paul and the other apostles quoted loosely from the Old Testament but retained the sense, just as Paul could articulate the same doctrine of the cross in a score of different formulations, you and I today proclaim the divine Word in various languages and new applications and to people of diverse backgrounds, and yet it is the same Word of God.

Now that we have established where the Word of God is and in our previous discussions have discussed the theology of the cross, the very heart and center of the Word’s message, we must go on and speak to the nature of the power of God’s Word.

Just as the word of a chief executive in a country or factory carries with it the power and authority of that country or business, so God’s Word possesses all the might and power of God Himself. And our God is powerful. He is not to be confused with Aristotle’s first cause who sits back and observes what transpires in this world. Nor is He Descartes’ quiescent creator, who for some reason does not see fit to intervene in our worldly affairs. Nor is He the God of certain modern theologians who dialectically affirm that God speaks and acts but not in our time and space. Nor is He a helpless God, the invention of modern man to provide for his happiness. No, our God is One who is eternally active, who makes contact with His creation. He is a living God, acting, speaking, working, striving to make His claim on man. Through His law He kills and by His gospel He makes alive. He exalts and He casts down. He speaks, He gives knowledge, He shows His strength, He performs mercy, He delivers. He not only loves, but He makes His love manifest by sending His only begotten Son into the world. He not only hates sin, but He executes judgment, and His wrath is actually revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and righteousness of men. God’s justice and His grace, His omnipotence and His holiness, His majesty and glory are not quiescent attributes, but are active and dynamic. And as God is, so is His Word.

For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return there without watering the earth, and making it bear and sprout, and furnishing seed to the sower and bread to the eater; so shall My Word be which goes forth from My mouth; it shall not return unto Me empty, without accomplishing what I desire, and without succeeding in the matter for which I sent it (Isa. 55:10–11).

Here we are told that God’s words are power, life-giving energy. You and I speak, and often nothing happens. But God speaks, and it is done (Ps. 33:9). For He does not merely speak “naked words” (nuda vocabula) as Luther says, but “deeds and things” (res); “God speaks, and those things which are not come into being.” [43] And so God works with His Word and through His Word. Luther says, “God’s works are His words.” [44]

Very often in Scripture the Word of God is described as His action and practically identified with His power. The Prophet Elijah speaks the Word, and what the Word says happens: The dogs eat the flesh of Jezebel and her carcass becomes dung in the field of Jezreel (2 Kings 9:36–37). The Word must bring about its fulfillment: for, the Word is infallible and “true” (emeth). “The sum of Thy Word is truth, and every one of Thy righteous ordinances is everlasting” (Ps. 119:160). This means that God is faithful in carrying out His words, and at the same time faithful to Himself (consistent) in giving the Word. “The Word of the Lord is upright; and all His work is done in faithfulness” (Ps. 33:4). Hence a prophet must remain silent when God does not reveal His Word; and when God speaks, the prophet must prophesy (Amos 3:7–8). The very events of history occur at the Word of God (1 Kings 2:27; Ps. 105:19–20).

Even the course Christ took, the way of the cross, was dictated by the Word (Luke 18:31–33; 24:44, 46). This Word not merely predicts what happens; it creates what happens (Ps. 33:9). The Word of God is an act of revelation which is always effective (Num. 23:19) and infallibly achieves its purpose (Isa. 45:23; Ps. 107:20). Thus we have in Scripture such regular refrains as the following: “Not one of the good promises which the Lord had made to the house of Israel failed; all came to pass” (Josh. 21:45; cf. 1 Kings 8:56).

Now what is to be our response to this mighty and infallible Word? The answer, of course, is faith. How often does the New Testament speak of “receiving” (dechesthai, lambanein), “believing” (pisteuein), the Word (1 Con 11:4; 1 Thess. 1:6; 2:13; Acts 11:22; 13:7; 15:17; 18:8; 28:24)!

But how hard it is to believe what God says. His words often seem to be at odds with reason and science and experience. The supreme revelation in Christ beginning with the incarnation and ending with His bloody death on Good Friday is contrary to all reason. In fact, the center of His revelation, the theology of His cross, is impossible for the natural man to receive and believe. “If you receive the Word of God seriously, the world will judge that you are a fool.” [45] What are we to do? We must first of all remember something that Luther has told us, something which helps us greatly in understanding the theology of the cross: “We always regard God’s Word and work impossible before it happens. And yet it does happen and happens so easily. But before it takes place, we neither know nor understand it; we can only believe it.” [46] Isn’t this always the case? Think of the impossible things God has asked people to believe. Jarius is to believe that his daughter is alive, although people declared her dead and she has stopped breathing (Matt. 9:24). The nobleman is to believe that his sick son is healed simply by a word of Jesus spoken at a distance from the boy (John 4:50). Abraham is to believe that he will have a son when he and Sarah are old. He is to believe that God is a loving, Redeemer-God even when God commands him to sacrifice his only child, in whom his salvation is centered. The Virgin Mary is to believe that she shall have a Child, although she has known no man, and her Child shall be the Son of the Highest. Martha is to believe that her brother will come to life, although his body is putrefying in the grave (John 11:39–44). And we are to believe that we will rise too, although this is contrary to all evidence. Evidence speaks against believing in any of these things; yet God expects us to believe them simply on the basis of His Word. This is His way, and it is axiomatic. Luther puts it baldly. “This is the way faith speaks, ‘I believe You, God, when You speak to me.’ But what does God say? He says things which are impossible, false, stupid, inconsistent, absurd, abhorrent, heretical, and diabolical, if you consult your reason.” [47]

But how can we believe such things? How can I believe in Christ the crucified, when I “by my own reason and strength cannot believe in Him, or come to Him”? The Word of God is operative in us. It is not merely the object of our faith, but it is the cause of our faith. How is the Word of God operative in our lives? It is operative, as we have already shown, as law and gospel. Both law and gospel are powerful Words of God, although they conflict with each other at every point.

The Word of the law has a destructive power. In the mouth of Jeremiah this Word is like fire, and the people are wood, and the Word devours them (Jer. 5:14). Like a hammer breaking rocks into pieces, the law breaks down every human fortress of self-security and self-righteousness (Jer. 23:29). The power of the law is inexorable. People can stop their ears like the Jews who stoned Stephen; they can adopt a condescending attitude or try to outshout the law like the enemies of Jesus. But God’s law will speak the last Word. It is no dead letter, but a letter that kills (2 Cor. 3:6). Christ’s Word will judge all unbelief on the Last Day (John 12:48). “He shall strike the earth with the rod of His mouth, and with the breath of His lips He will slay the wicked” (Isa. 11:4; cf. also 2 Thess. 2:8; Rev. 1:16).

In contrast to the law, the gospel Word has as its ministry to give life (2 Cor. 3:6ff.). In its outer form the gospel is a report, an announcement of facts concerning Christ’s life from His birth to His death. But, as Werner Elert says, the “report is distinctive in that the historic event is designated as the acting, speaking, calling, and decreeing of God.” [48] Paul’s gospel offers a report of Christ’s death, burial, and resurrection (1 Cor. 15:1f.), but Paul’s gospel is much more than a mere report about what people can learn and know and speak; it is related to the greatest needs of human existence and authenticates itself as power. It is a preaching which brings results into our lives. Its power centers in the theology of the cross and the resurrection of Christ (Rom. 1:4). Through His death and resurrection Christ has conquered death and restored life. This life becomes an actuality through the proclamation of the gospel. The gospel makes the work of Christ efficacious in the world by giving men life (2 Tim. 1:10).

As “God’s gospel” (Rom. 1:1; 15:16, subjective genitive) the gospel is never an empty Word but always creative, bringing about what God its Author says. Thus, we find various metaphors for the Word of God in Scripture, and various activities that are likened to its power. It is likened to a lamp and a light (Prov. 6:23), to a living and imperishable seed (1 Peter 1:23), to rain and dew (Deut. 32:2), to honey (Ps. 119:103). Sometimes it is portrayed as a living, thinking, acting person; it is hypostasized: it is portrayed as increasing, growing, multiplying (Acts 6:7; 12:24; 19:20). The gospel is not bound (2 Tim. 2:9), it goes out (Rom. 10:18), it runs (2 Thess. 3:1) through the world and opens doors (Col. 4:3). Thus, it is the very power of God at work.

1) What specifically does the gospel Word, the Word of the cross, accomplish? It works salvation (Eph. 1:13), it rescues us and saves our souls (James 1:21). It is the very power of God unto salvation (Rom. 1:16; cf. 1 Cor. 15:2). This is its chief and final purpose; this is its almighty power. And the salvation, the deliverance, the rescue the gospel brings us is total and complete. We are justified, righteous in God’s sight for the sake of the crucified Christ. And so it can be said that the gospel saves (1 Thess. 2:8).

2) The word of the gospel saves by bringing us to faith (Rom. 10:17; John 17:20), and then by nourishing this faith (Phil. 1:27). By the foolishness of the cross God saves those who believe (1 Cor. 1:21). For when they believe the gospel Word, their faith stands not in the wisdom of men but in God’s power (1 Cor. 2:1–5), a power from which nothing can separate them.

3) The word of the gospel works regeneration and new life. We are born spiritually of an imperishable Seed, Peter tells us (1 Peter 1:23), the Word of God which is living and remains forever. And James says that God makes us His children by the Word of Truth (James 1:18). Paul tells the Corinthians that he has begotten them again through the gospel (1 Cor. 4:15). And so Jesus says that His words are life and spirit (John 6:63). They convey the Spirit of God to the believer.

Teaching a theology of glory (works righteousness), the Papists in Luther’s day deny the saving and Spirit-giving power of the gospel Word. Thus, they utterly confuse law and gospel, but do so in the name of Scripture and its divine authority. Luther counters their law passages from Scripture with the theology of the cross. He is not imposing this theology on Scripture, but he is using it consistently as a kind of “hermeneutical principle” which, as we have heard before, alone opens up the Scriptures to us (Apol., IV, 5). I believe that his words at this point are extremely important for us as we contend for the theology of the cross also in our day. Luther says:

Therefore one should reply to them as follows: Here is Christ and over there are the statements of Scripture about works. But Christ is Lord over Scripture and over all works. He is the Lord of heaven, earth, the Sabbath, the temple, righteousness, life, sin, death, and absolutely everything. Paul, His apostle, proclaims that He became sin and a curse for me. Therefore I hear that I could not be liberated by my sin, death, and curse through any other means than through His death and blood. Therefore I conclude with all certainty and assurance that not my works but Christ had to conquer my sin, death, and curse. Even on natural grounds reason is obliged to agree and to say that Christ is not my work, that His blood and His death are not a cowl or a tonsure or a fast or a vow, and that in granting me His victory He is not a Carthusian. Therefore if He Himself is the price of my redemption, if He Himself became sin and a curse in order to justify and bless me, I am not put off at all by passages of Scripture, even if they were to produce six hundred in support of the righteousness of works and against the righteousness of faith, and if you were to scream that Scripture contradicts itself. I have the Author and Lord of Scripture, and I want to stand on His side rather than believe you. Nevertheless it is impossible for Scripture to contradict itself except at the hands of senseless and stubborn hypocrites; at the hands of those who are godly in understanding it gives testimony to its Lord. Therefore see to it how you can reconcile Scripture, which as you say contradicts itself. I for my part shall stay with the Author of Scripture. [49]

Liberal theologians, including some Lutherans, have had a heyday with this citation, alleging that Luther believed the Scripture was confused and contradicted itself. Or sometimes they have alleged that Luther just arbitrarily picked passages out of the Scripture and then made them normative, ignoring the other witnesses of Scripture. Nothing could be further from the truth. Luther is simply showing that the message of Scripture is the theology of the cross, and that law passages, which are found throughout the Scriptures, can not vitiate the biblical testimony concerning the theology of the cross. He admits the paradoxical relationship between the law and the gospel. The law is God’s revelation revealing man’s sin and lost condition. The gospel is the revelation of the theology of the cross. The message of the law is true, the revelation of God’s just condemnation of sinful man. The revelation of the theology of the cross is true, the revelation of God’s just verdict of acquittal of man. Simul justus et peccator. But the revelation of the theology of the cross takes precedence over the law. In the section just read, Luther is not opposing Christ to Scripture, but, at bottom, opposing gospel to law.

4) The word of the gospel, the theology of the cross, works hope, an eschatological viewpoint. Into our present life, crowded with the concerns of this world, the gospel brings something future, namely, “the hope that is laid up for us in heaven” (Col. 1:5). The gospel not merely declares this hope, but we now have a share in it by virtue of the gospel message (Col. 1:23). And this hope changes our outlook totally: we recognize that our “citizenship is in heaven” (Phil. 3:20).

5) Finally the word of the cross is a source of strength for every issue of life. The gospel is not only the gospel of comfort and peace (Eph. 6:15). It also enables me to speak confidently to God and know that for Christ’s sake my petitions are heard (John 15:7). This Word of the cross establishes my faith in God’s own power (en dynamei Theou, 1 Cor. 2:5). The word of the cross takes hold of me and effectually works (energeitai) in me (1 Thess. 2:13), that is, it sustains me in my faith, and therefore I sing with assurance:

Lord, Thy words are waters living,
Where I quench my thirsty need;
Lord, Thy words are bread life-giving;
On Thy words my soul doth feed:
Lord, Thy words shall be my light
Through death’s veil and dreary night;
Yea, they are my sword prevailing,
And my cup of joy unfailing.

Of course, since the preaching of the cross is the power of God for salvation, the Scriptures, from which this message is drawn, possess that same power. Paul makes this point very clear in 2 Timothy 3:15–17 where, speaking to his younger coworker, he points out the practical power of the Scriptures in the life of the “man of God,” that is, the pastor. These verses follow a warning directed against all who, like Jannes and Jambres, resist the truth. The rebellion of these evil men is against pure doctrine and “will proceed from bad to worse, deceiving and being deceived” (v. 13). But there is a sure way in which Timothy or any pastor can avoid such pitfalls. But “continue in the things you have learned and become convinced of.” Paul then reminds Timothy that he has taught him, and Timothy has been convinced of the doctrine of the cross based upon Scripture. For from childhood Timothy has known the Scriptures which Paul tells him are able to give him “the wisdom that leads to salvation.” His grandmother Lois and his mother Eunice taught him the Scriptures. Thus, the Old Testament Scriptures also teach Christ, proclaiming the theology of the cross, and from childhood Timothy has known them and believed their saving message.

When Paul tells Timothy that the Scriptures are able to give him wisdom, he is not just merely talking about Timothy gaining more knowledge of this or that. No, he is talking about a divine wisdom, the wisdom of very God in a mystery, foreordained for our glory (1 Cor. 2:7). Scripture works this wisdom of the cross in us by leading us to faith in Christ who is the heart and center of the Scriptures. The Scriptures possess such inherent power, Paul goes on to say, because they are not human words but God’s Word, the product of His breath; pasa graphee theopneustos. The apostle’s argument is clearly that as God’s Word, Scripture carries with it God’s power, so Scripture works faith in Christ and all the blessings that Christ crucified brings the poor sinner. The living Word of Scripture brings even more blessings to the man of God; for Paul goes on to say that they are oophelimos, that is, useful, beneficial, profitable for everything that the pastor needs to do his work: “for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness” in the way in which we Christians should live out our lives of faith in Christ.

And what is the purpose of Scripture’s instructing, convincing, correcting, and training? It is that the man of God, the pastor (or any Christian, for that matter) might be perfectly equipped for carrying out the work of his calling, living out the Christian life of faith in Christ. Our old Lutheran theologians have talked about the “efficacy and perfection of Scripture,” and they are right.

Whence does the written and spoken and sacramental Word derive its power? The answer is threefold; it is Trinitarian.

1) The written and spoken Word of God draws its power and authority from its Author, who is God. This is made clear in the New Testament where the Scripture is called God’s Word, God’s utterances, the product of His breath (Matt. 4:4; 2 Tim. 3:16). Although it is only men who preach the gospel, it is nevertheless God’s gospel (Rom. 1:1; 15:16; 2 Cor. 7:11; 1 Thess. 2:9). God’s Word and gospel are never empty and sterile but active and creative. Paul makes this point eminently clear when he tells the Thessalonians: “For this reason we also constantly thank God that when you received from us the Word of God’s message, you accepted it not as the word of men, but for what it really is, the Word of God, which also performs its work in you who believe” (1 Thess. 2:13). Paul is clearly tracing the effectual working of his word back to its divine origin, to our gracious God. The Word of God, Scripture, and the word of the cross which we preach carries with it all the attributes of God Himself. This is why Luther and our old Lutheran theologians insisted so emphatically that Scripture was God’s Word. It was as they said, “something of God.” It was God speaking. God is the Speaker in Scripture. God is the Speaker when we preach God’s law and declare the theology of the cross.

2) The written and spoken Word draws its power from its content, Christ and His suffering and death. The power of the Word is not some sovereign, stern, irresistible force which coerces the human will and intellect of its victim into obedience. It is an almighty power, but it is gentle and persuasive, a still, small voice working always as cognitive message, the message of a crucified and risen Savior. It is the gospel of Christ, which is powerful. Scripture gives us wisdom that leads to salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus (2 Tim. 3:15). When Paul speaks of the power of his preaching, it is always within a Christological context (cf. 1 Cor. 2). The written and spoken Word exists and is proclaimed for the sake of Christ, for the sake of salvation through faith in Him. We recall the charming statement of Luther: “Christ is involved in Scripture through and through, like the body in its clothes. Preaching is the crib in which He lies and is composed, and therefrom we get food and nourishment.” [50] Again Luther says: “All the works which Christ performed are recorded in the Word, and in the Word and through the Word He will give us everything, and without the Word He will give us nothing.” [51] Therefore “a man who has God’s Word is a partaker of all the possessions of God.” [52] Luther is most emphatic on this point: “If Christ were given and crucified a thousand times for us, even so it would all be for nothing if the Word of God did not come, share, and bestow it all on me.” [53] We recall how Luther believed that the Scriptures were Christocentric, not merely by implication but specifically and throughout Scripture.

3) The written and spoken Word draws its power from its union with the Holy Spirit who is always operative through it. The Word of God and the Spirit of God are inseparable. When the Word is preached, the Spirit is always present. Paul preaches, he says, not in persuasive words of men’s wisdom but “in demonstration of the Spirit and of power” (1 Cor. 2:4), and for this reason our faith stands in the power of God. Hence the work of the Holy Spirit and the work of the Word of God are not two works, nor a composite of two different operations, but they are one work, the unity of operation, as our old theologians have called it (unitas energeias). John Andrew Quenstedt says:

The Spirit and the Word of God are not only united themselves, but they act together. Their action is one action and indivisible, the Spirit working as the efficient agent of the operation and the Word as the instrument or means of the operation. Spirit and Word work together in accomplishing the one result of conversion and salvation. [54]

Quenstedt is saying that you cannot separate God’s Word from God, from the Spirit of God, anymore than one could separate my words from me.

We Lutherans have not always been faithful to our heritage. We have not always believed in the power of the cross which we preach. May God help us to continue to draw water from these wells of salvation, which are God’s Word, and thus be faithful theologians of the cross.

IV: The Theology Of Glory, Or The Theology Of The Cross

Opposed to the theology of the cross is what Luther calls the theology of glory (theologia gloria). [55] The theology of glory is no true theology at all. It is an attempt to know God but without going to His Word, the word of the cross, the gospel. It is the attempt to know God perhaps by contemplation, perhaps by experience, perhaps by philosophical speculation. It is the theology of the natural man, of secularism, of the Turk, the Jew, all those who wish to know God apart from Christ and His cross. And that is the secret of the theology of the cross, the mystery of godliness: that we see and know God as a Child in Bethlehem’s manger, born to a poor, young, forsaken maiden; that we see Him as a rejected preacher of the gospel, already bearing the sins of the world; that we see Him finally on the cross, His ultimate degradation and humiliation, the innocent suffering God against the guilty, but at the same time His glorification of the Father. For that was why He came into the world and accomplished the will of Him that sent Him, namely, to suffer and die for the sins of the world.

The theology of glory rejects all this. The theology of glory wants to understand God and see Him from the visible things which God has made and from that standpoint alone. Thus, the theologus gloriae can know that God is and that God is powerful. But God remains invisible to him and unknown to him. The theologian of the cross sees God not in His splendid creation, but in the humiliation, shame, suffering, and death of Jesus. Thus, in seeing the shame of Christ and the death of Christ he sees God in all His splendor and grace. Luther says, “For this reason true theology and the recognition of God are in the crucified Christ.” [56] God can be found only in suffering and the cross. Man sees God only through the man Christ and only in suffering. The divine majesty is hidden under the cross of Christ. In fact, to Luther, “it is necessary that everything which is believed should be hidden.” [57]

In essence the theology of glory is legalism and unbelief. It appears in many subtle forms, in the attempt to understand God or control or manipulate Him, in the attempt to ignore sin and our need of grace and God’s love in Christ. During the time of Luther the scholastic theologians who preceded him established a doctrine of sanctification whereby man, the sinner, worked out his own salvation with very little attention given to God’s grace in Christ, and the great emphasis upon what man does, whether on his own initiative or through the priest in the sacrifice of the mass and other “blessings” dispensed by the church. The connection between the work of Christ and faith in Him was diminished and sometimes even lost. Luther fought this theology of glory in his attacks against Erasmus and the Humanists on the one hand, the Papists and Enthusiasts on the other hand. The enemies of the theology of the cross were right within the bosom of the church in Luther’s day.

So it is today. Today the ways of the enemy are even more subtle than in Luther’s day as the inherent legalism in the theology of glory attempts to vitiate the theology of the cross and supplant it. Today we have the subtle synergism of the post-Reformation Lutherans and the Pelagianism of the Arminians, but more frightening still, Pietism, Methodism and its offspring, and Pop Evangelicalism.

By pop evangelicalism I designate that movement, originating in the United States, which has permeated almost all of American Protestantism and even Roman Catholicism. It is an admixture of Arminianism and Enthusiasm (Schwaermerei, as Luther called it), with a dash of American capitalistic business principles, success-oriented pragmatism, and popular humanism. So much has been written about this phenomenon that it is quite unnecessary—and hopeless—for me to analyze it and show how it is in most of its programs, strategies, and theology an unvarnished modern paradigm of what Luther called the theologia gloriae. The movement, which has given rise also to what has been commonly called the “church growth movement,” extols the power of prayer as a virtual means of grace, while denying to the means of grace (the word of the cross and the sacraments) the power to save. It builds on the premise of Pietism and Methodism in extolling the Third Article of the Creed as man’s doing and growing and receiving blessings from God on account of so-called “gifts” which he finds in himself through some means or other. Thus man feels good about himself. Little attention is given repentance as the work of the Holy Spirit through the word of the cross.

Prof. Kurt Marquart of Concordia Theological Seminary in Fort Wayne, Indiana, has written an essay analyzing the church growth movement, based on a lecture given originally at Matongo Lutheran College, Kenya, in 1992. The title of his essay is “Changing Mission ‘Paradigms’: From Lutheran to Generic?” At this point I merely address Marquart’s discovery of what faith is to the proponents of the new pop evangelicalism. [58] Marquart shows how the two neoevangelicals who have most warmly fathered and endorsed the church growth movement, namely, Donald McGavran and Peter Wagner, define faith not only as a work of man, but as something that includes what traditional Lutherans, Calvinists, and even Roman Catholics call the fruits of faith. Faith is no more than a human act of decision. McGavran and Arn simply cite the great evangelist Charles Finney:

To believe in the name of Jesus means at least three acts. First, intellectual acceptance. We move from ignorance or doubt to an acceptance of the truth: that “Jesus” is the mighty name, the only name. That God has willed to reveal Himself through Jesus Christ, His Word made flesh, Jesus who upholds “the universe by His Word of power.” 

Second, since Jesus is Lord, and I accept this intellectually, I submit my entire life to Him. I obey Him in every command He gives. And He is my Lord. I submit all my actions, thoughts, attitudes and values, expenditure of time and money to Jesus Christ. I treat my fellow men as Christ commands. I try to create a family, community, business and state which would please Him. I accept what the Bible so clearly says, again and again, that the whole life of the Christian has been transformed. He is therefore a new creation ... 

The third meaning of belief is that I must share the good news with others. With this new definition of faith as decision, good works, and witnessing to Christ, the theology of glory is put in place. The cross of Christ is virtually ignored. The theology of the cross is not proclaimed in the context of the thunderings of the law, but pragmatically used as the Christian carries out the Great Commission. The heresy of making faith a work (my option, my decision [Billy Graham, Charles Finney, et. al.], my “will to believe” [William James]) at very best makes faith a condition of salvation, or to put it differently, makes faith a part of the gospel. Thus the gospel is transformed into a theology of glory. My faith saves me, but not by virtue of its object. Justification is propter fidem, because of my faith. Jesus is Lord, not because “He has purchased and won me from sin, death, and the power of the devil, not with gold or silver, but with His holy precious blood, and innocent suffering and death,” but because I make Him my Lord. I “obey Him in every command He gives me.”

What an awful theology! How can anyone be certain of forgiveness, divine grace, salvation, or a loving God, burdened by such a theology of glory?

A mark of the theology of glory, in our day as in Luther’s, is either to reject or to ignore the Word and sacraments as a means of grace and forgiveness. According to Luther the Holy Spirit “calls” me into the kingdom of Christ by the gospel, that is, the word of the cross. Baptism works forgiveness of sins. The Lord’s Supper is simply the gospel “acted out”; our eating and drinking Christ’s body and blood for our forgiveness and all the blessings of God. If it is asked how water or bread and wine can do such things, Luther replies, “It is not the water, but the Word in and with the water.”

Luther says, “God reveals the mystery of salvation through the external Word. This Word He has ordained to serve as a means and as a hollow reed through which He conveys saving truth in His heart.” [59] And so the Word becomes the most valuable of all gifts of God to us sinners. For it is always available, at hand. If you take it away, it is like taking the sun away from the earth.

For if the Word were removed, what would the world be but a hell, a mere realm of Satan, the wealthy people, the lawyers and doctors and others still in it? For what can people do without the Word? For only the Word keeps a joyful conscience, a gracious God, and our entire religion. For from the Word flows as from a spring all religion; yes, it upholds the entire world. [60]

For the Word introduces us to the theology of the cross, and in that theology we live. For the word of the cross, by the gift of the Holy Spirit, creates the very understanding which we are unable to accord it. Luther says:

Now when I say that you should fix the Word of God in your heart, I do not mean merely that you should know it and meditate on it. That is nothing. I mean rather that you should regard and esteem it as it ought to be regarded and esteemed. That is, you should hold it to be a living, eternal, all-powerful Word that can make you alive, free from sin and death, and keep you so eternally; that brings with it everything of which it speaks, namely, Christ, with His flesh and blood and everything He is and has. For it is the kind of Word that can and does do all these things, and therefore it should be so regarded. That is its proper honor. It is not satisfied with any other kind of honor. In short, the proper honor for the Word is nothing else than a genuine faith from the bottom of one’s heart, a faith that holds the Word to be true, that trusts it and stakes its life upon it for eternity. [61]

Today the theology of glory, pop evangelicalism, simply does not believe what Luther says about the power of the Word. Something must be added: gifts, gifts allegedly from God, but critically inventoried by the donees or their mentors; strategies, entrepreneurial, sociological, psychological strategies; ever new paradigms; the power of positive thinking (Robert Schuller), etc. Something must be added to the theology of the cross. The simple word of the cross does not work anymore in our day, it does not “reach people,” it does not bring the success which is called for, growth of the church. For in our day even the work of the church is measured by external growth. Thus modern pop evangelicalism, in its yen for success, loses the one and only way to God, “the way of the cross.”

One other common feature, often attendant to trendy new evangelicalism and its success-oriented theology of glory, is a marked impatience with those of us who simply cling to the word of the cross and take our confidence and certainty and hope solely from that divine revelation. The theology of the cross creates a certain “piety” in those who cling to it. Confidence in the crucified Savior, secure in His arms, total trust in Him through His Word of promise, these are not seen to be signs of piety at all by the theology of glory but signs of weakness, pride, laziness, and the lack of sanctification. Certainly, we are told, such a posture does not bring in new converts. It does not lend itself to victorious living. It has been called quietistic and egocentric. One Missouri Synod Lutheran minister, enamored with the church growth movement, has even accused in a book his whole church body, known historically for its bold proclamation of the theology of the cross, as “dysfunctional.”

It has been said that for the proponents of the theologia gloriae in evangelical circles today the Great Commission has superseded the doctrine of redemption as the article on which the church stands and falls. This may sound like too sweeping and harsh a statement, for many evangelical and confessional Lutherans and others are devoted to the Great Commission and spend their lives preaching the gospel. But there is no doubt about the fact that just as the Pharisees traveled “about on sea and land to make one proselyte” (Matt. 23:15) but did not recognize the Son of Man when He came to be their Savior, so the zealous members of cults and sects today reject or lose sight of the theologia crucis as they march toward their distorted evangelistic goals by their “obedience” to the Great Commission.

The only response to God’s revelation in Christ, to the preaching of the cross, is faith. But faith is never inactive or dormant. Faith receives the good things from God, but then witness is made. The Christian confesses Christ, confesses Christ as one to whom God has given eternal wisdom. He must do so! The words of the anonymous Danish hymn written during the period of Pietism ring out:

To me the preaching of the Cross
Is wisdom everlasting;
Thy death alone redeems my loss;
On Thee my burden casting,
I, in Thy name,
A refuge claim
From sin and death and from all shame—
Blest be Thy name, O Jesus!

This is how faith responds to the theology of the cross. It speaks with conviction and boldness.

And what are the results of witnessing for the Savior? What happens? Through the preaching of the cross God saves those who believe it. The word of the cross, whether proclaimed by an eloquent preacher or the humblest child who can barely stammer the words, is still the power of God unto salvation. The Ethiopian eunuch was converted when Philip explained to him the theology of the cross. But Philip did not convert everyone who heard his witness. Three thousand were saved on Pentecost through the proclamation by Peter of the theology of the cross. But many more who heard this message rejected it. Christ Himself won few converts as throughout Judea and Galilee He preached about His person and work. And when He told His disciples that He would go to the cross, none of them at the time even understood what He was talking about.

So it has been throughout the history of the church, and so it will be. He who witnesses to the cross will experience rejection. And he will have to bear his own cross. Jesus made this point crystal clear throughout His ministry. Every one of the apostles sustained persecution because of the message he proclaimed and confessed. So it has always been and so it will always be (Heb. 11:35–12:29).

Paul Gerhardt, who spent his life witnessing to the theology of the cross in preaching and song, portrays the paradigm of the theologus cruci in perhaps his greatest hymn (stanzas 1, 2, 3, 7, 8):

If God Himself be for me,
I may a host defy;
For when I pray, before me
My foes, confounded, fly;
If Christ, the Head, befriend me,
If God be my support,
The mischief they intend me
Shall quickly come to naught.

This I believe—yea, rather,
In this I make my boast,
That God is my dear Father,
The Friend who loves me most;
And that, whate’er betide me,
My Savior is at hand,
Thro’ stormy seas to guide me,
And bring me safe to land.

I build on this foundation—
That Jesus and His blood
Alone are my salvation,
The true, eternal good;
Without Him all that pleases
Is valueless on earth;
The gifts I owe to Jesus
Alone my love are worth.

Who clings with resolution
To Him whom Satan hates,
Must look for persecution
Which never here abates;
Reproaches, griefs, and losses
Rain fast upon His head,
A thousand plagues and crosses
Become His daily bread.

All this I am prepared for,
Yet am I not afraid;
By Thee shall be cared for,
To whom my vows were paid.
Though life and limb it cost me,
And all the earthly store
Which once so much engrossed me—
I love Thee all the more.

Many years ago in the chapel of Concordia Theological Seminary we sang all the stanzas of Gerhardt’s magnificent hymn. An older professor came up to me after chapel and said, “We can’t sing that hymn today. It just doesn’t apply anymore. People don’t suffer for their faith anymore.” Even though I had never suffered any severe crosses for Christ’s sake, I disagreed profoundly with that old veteran of the cross. Of course, there are different kinds of crosses. Luther’s suffering the pangs of conscience in the monastery at Erfurt were as severe as the crosses he suffered when persecuted by the pope and the emperor and maligned by the Papists. So it also is today. Not everyone loses his head like St. Cyprian, lies in a Nazi prison camp like Dietrich Bonhoffer, is imprisoned like Bishop Bergrav, or forbidden to worship like the Christians in the Soviet Union for more than seventy years. And we could go on and on with more modern examples of persecution, affliction, and cross-bearing sustained by Christians.

But God does send crosses to those who believe, teach, and confess the theology of the cross. It happens without fail. It must happen. And it is God who sends them. They are not the ordinary afflictions that befall humankind. They are thrust upon us for Christ’s sake. God sends them in order to bless us and make us theologians of the cross. Luther says:

The gospel was not given that we might seek our own praise and glory through it or that the common people might acclaim us, its ministers, on account of it. But it was given that through it the blessing and glory of Christ might be illumined, that the Father might be glorified, who has shown us in Christ, His Son, whom He gave up for us and with whom He has given us all things. [62]

These are profound words and ought to be etched into the memory of every faithful preacher of the gospel. He who preaches salvation by grace alone and not by works, who preaches the unconditional love of God in Christ—how can such a one claim any glory for doing such a good work? Anyone who seeks his own glory as he preaches the gospel and confesses Christ is thereby a liar. Preaching Christ crucified brings crosses, not glory. Soli Deo gloria. To God alone be the glory. The apostle Paul tells us that every minister of the Word will suffer opposition and persecution if he preaches the gospel. Jesus warned the same, that we would be hated for His sake, not praised.

Following our Savior (Matt. 5:10–11), Luther says that God has “attached suffering to the teaching of the Gospel,” and this is for our own benefit, to make us better theologians and more faithful to our message of the cross. Otherwise, Luther says, God would never be able to repress and crush in us “this beast called Kenodoxia.” Kenodoxia is the yen for the admiration and praise of men, the yen for the life of ease in the ministry of the gospel, the yen for self-glory. It is the product of the theologia gloriae. Such a propensity and attitude in a “witness for the truth” is a certain sign that he is a false witness. Luther says, “The fact that you teach faithful doctrine and live a holy life is not your gift, it is God’s. Therefore you should not receive the praise; God receives it in you.” Nor will you be elated by the praise of men—nor will you be moved by their insults, slander, and persecution or pressure to “desert your calling.” [63]

Therefore it is with the very grace of God that He covers all those who confess the word of the cross with slander, bitter hatred, persecution, and blasphemy from the whole world as well with contempt and ingratitude from our own followers. In fact, the devastation we receive from followers and false brethren is worse than that which we openly suffer from outright enemies of the gospel. There are, of course, some among our followers who honor us on account of the ministry of the Word; but where there is one who honors us, there are a hundred who hate, despise, and persecute us. Therefore the slanders and persecutions of our opponents, as well as the great contempt, ingratitude, and secret bitter hatred of those in whose midst we live—are joyful sights and delight to us so much that we easily forget vain glory.

Thus, we are graciously preserved from that awful mark of the theologus gloriae, Kenodoxia, the desire for the applause of the crown, the desire to be thought of as proud and courageous, brave and daring.

And so the Christian, especially the Christian pastor, suffers crosses for the sake of the theology of the cross. His zeal is interpreted as anger, his courage as stubbornness, his orthodoxy as heterodoxy, his suffering as self-inflicted. And throughout it all he sings in his heart, happy in the forgiveness of sins, confident in the sure hope of a gracious God who has saved him forever through the blood of Christ—he sings with Paul Gerhardt:

And I will nail me to Thy Cross,
And learn to count all things that draw us,
Where in the flesh doth pleasure take;
Whate’er is hateful in Thine eyes,
With all the strength that in me lies,
What I cast on Thee and forsake.

And to his Savior he sings:
Thy heavy groans, Thy bitter sighs,
The tears that from Thy dying eyes
Were shed when Thou wast sore opprest
Shall be with me, when at the last
Myself on Thee I wholly cast,
And enter with Thee into rest.

About the Author

The late Robert D. Preus was one of one of this century’s best scholars of Lutheran orthodoxy. He received doctorates from Edinburgh University and the University of Strasbourg. For many years he was president of Concordia Theological Seminary, Fort Wayne, Indiana. Before becoming president at Concordia, Fort Wayne, he served as a Lutheran pastor (LCMS) and for seventeen years was a professor at Concordia Theological Seminary, St. Louis, Missouri. A prolific writer his books included The Inspiration of Scripture, The Theology of Post-Reformation Lutheranism (2 volumes), and Getting Into the Theology of Concord. He was often published in numerous journals including Concordia Theological Monthly, The Lutheran Witness and Scottish Journal of Theology.

Notes

1. W-T No. 1583.
2. Erl. lat. 10, 137.
3. Erl. lat. 21, 20.
4. Erl. lat. 21, 12.
5. WA 39¹, 502: Articulus justificationis est magister et princeps, dominus, rector et iudex super omnis genera doctrinarum, qui conservat et gubernat omnem doctrinam ecclesiasticam.
6. W² 4, 2098.
7. LW 26, 106.
8. LW 26, 26.
9. LW 26, 28. “Propitiator” is a very common descriptive term used by Luther for Christ, especially in his lectures on Galatians and other commentaries and in his sermons. It is a kind of umbrella term for all that Christ has done to save us. The term theologia crucis is also a technical term used much less often by Luther for the atoning sacrifice of Christ and the humiliation which He endured to save us.
10. LW 26, 28–29.
11. LW 27, 182.
12. LW 31, 46ff.
13. Erl. lat. 21, 3.
14. WA 40¹, 128–129.
15. LW 30¹, 83.
16. LW 31, 39f.
17. LW 31, 53.
18. Hermann Sasse, We Confess Jesus Christ, translated by Norman Nagel (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 1984), 48. Others have written on the theology of the cross: Walther von Loewenich, Luther’s Theology of the Cross (Minneapolis: Augsburg Publishing House, 1976); Regin Prenter, Luther’s Theology of the Cross (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1971). More recently Alister McGrath, without consulting Prenter’s or Sasse’s previous works, has written Luther’s Theology of the Cross (Oxford: Basil Blackwell Ltd., 1985). The concept of Luther’s theologia crucis has apparently intrigued many scholars, even though Luther uses the term very seldom.
19. We Confess Jesus Christ, 38.
20. Ibid., 39.
21. Much of the material in this lecture is drawn from a paper I delivered at Bethany Lutheran College, Reformation, 1992, and published in the Clergy Bulletin of the Evangelical Lutheran Synod the following year. The essay was titled, “Luther: Word, Doctrine, and Confession.”
22. See C. F. W. Walther, The Proper Distinction Between Law and Gospel, translated by W. H. T. Dau (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 1929), 23 passim.
23. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, “The Doctrine of Reconciliation,” translated by G. W. Bromily (Edinburgh, 1957) 4:1:141.
24. WA Tish. 6, 103.
25. “And here it follows that our sins are so great and infinite and invincible that it is not possible for the whole world to make satisfaction for one of them. For surely the greatness of the cost (namely, the blood of the Son of God) declares clearly enough that we cannot make satisfaction nor get control over our sins. The force and power of sin is intensified greatly by these words ‘which gave Himself for our sins.’ And yet we don’t seem to care and we look down upon sin as something small and of no importance; even when our conscience is troubled, still we think that sin is not very great and we can take care of it with some little work or merit. But let us look at the infinite greatness of the price which was spent for us. Then we will see what a force and power sin is; no work can be made up for it. The Son of God must be delivered for it” (WA 40¹, 85).
26. Otto Köberle, The Quest for Holiness, translated by John C. Mattes (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1936), 47.
27. See Walther, The Proper Distinction of Law and Gospel, Thesis VII, p. 2: “The Word of God is not rightly divided when the Gospel is preached first and then the Law: sanctification first and then justification: faith first and then repentance: good works first and then grace.”
28. WA, Tr. 2, 372.
29. Köberle, op. cit., 52, underlines Luther’s great emphasis, as he shows that only in the Old and New Testament, in all the world, is sin revealed in all its enormity, thus preparing sinners for the foolish message of the Cross.
30. Albrecht Ritschl, The Doctrine of Justification and Reconciliation (Clifton, New Jersey: Reference Book Publishers, 1966) III:262.
31. Karl Barth points out the inevitability of such a conclusion. Church Dogmatics, IV:I:490.
32. WA 103, 161–162.
33. Cited in Ritschl, op.cit., I:551.
34. August Pieper, Jesias II (Milwaukee: Northwestern Publishing House, 1979), 401.
35. WA 10³, 136–137.
36. The fact that it is God who is propitiated and reconciled is emphasized again and again throughout Luther’s writings and in the Lutheran Confessions (see AC III, both Latin and German texts). See also Footnote 9. It is interesting that the term “Propitiator” is the most commonly used term by Melanchthon to name Christ according to His redemptive office in the Apology to the Augsburg Confession.
37. Most of this chapter is based upon an article I wrote for the Concordia Theological Monthly titled “The Power of God’s Word,” XXXIV, 8; August 1963 through 465.
38. LW 40, 212–214.
39. H. Daniel Friberg, “The Locus of God’s Speaking,” Christian Century, Vol. 79:15:455–457.
40. Karl Barth, Christian Dogmatics, I:I:160; Emil Brunner, The Divine Human Encounter (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1943), 84f.
41. WA 37, 437.
42. WA 47, 120.
43. WA 42, 17.
44. WA 3, 152: Opera dei sunt verba eius.
45. WA 40, 3, 121.
46. W2 13:239.
47. WA 401, 361.
48. Werner Elert, Der Christliche Glaube (Hamburg: Furche-Verlag, 1956), 117.
49. LW 26, 295.
50. WA 12, 418.
51. W2 13:1556.
52. W2 3:760.
53. W2 20:274.
54. John Andrew Quenstedt, Systema (Wittenberg: 1685) 1:183.
55. LW 31, 41.
56. LW 31, 53.
57. LW 33, 62.
58. See Koester, pp. 152–153, as quoted in Marquart, 33.
59. W2 7:830.
60. W2 4:1806.
61. LW 36, 278.
62. LW 27, 100.
63. LW 27, 102.