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Completely unnoticed in our modern times, a new cross has entered many religious circles. While it resembles the old cross, the difference lies in the fact that this resemblance is imitation, and that it nevertheless differs significantly from the old one.
From this new cross, a new philosophy has spread to the Christian life, and this new philosophy has brought with it a new evangelistic method—a new way of meeting and preaching. This new proclamation uses the same language as the old, but its content is not the same, and the focus has shifted.
The old cross has nothing to do with the world. For Adam's proud flesh, it means death. Through this cross, the judgment that lay above the law given on Mount Sinai was fulfilled. The new cross is not opposed to the world. It is actually a friendly companion and, if one understands correctly, the source of good, clean conversations and innocent pleasures. It allows man to live undisturbed. His motives for living remain unchanged. He still lives for his own pleasure, only now he sings Christian hymns and watches religious films instead of singing offensive songs or consuming strong alcoholic beverages. The emphasis is still on pleasure, although it has now reached a higher moral standard, if not an intellectual one.
The new cross brings with it a new and entirely different method of evangelization. The evangelist does not demand a renunciation of the old life before a new one can be received. He does not preach the contrasts, but the similarities. He tries to cater to public interest by showing that Christianity makes no unpleasant demands, but offers the same things as the world, only on a higher level. This new gospel offers what the sin-obsessed world is currently crying out for, with the only difference being that the religious product is superior.
The new cross doesn't break the sinner; it merely gives him a different direction. It compels him to live in a cleaner and more joyful way and preserves his self-respect. To the arrogant, the new cross says, "Come and stand up for Christ." To the egoist, it says, "Come and boast in the Lord." To the enthusiast, it says, "Come and rejoice in the message of the faithful." Thus, the Christian message leans toward current fashion in order to conform to public opinion.
The philosophical motivation behind this whole matter may well be sincere, but its sincerity does not prevent it from being false. It is false because it was born of blindness. It completely misses the point of the cross of Christ.
God breaks man by letting the old within him die and then
raises one to a new life.
The ancient cross is a symbol of death. It is an emblem of the sudden, terrible end of man. The man who, in the time of Roman rule, carried his cross down the street had already said goodbye to his friends. He never returned. He did not go out to give his life a new direction, but to end it. The cross made no compromises, softened nothing, spared nothing; it killed people once and for all. It did not try to be on good terms with its enemy. It struck cruelly and hard, and when it had done its work, the man was no more.
The old Adam is condemned to death. There is no escape. God cannot condone any fruit of sin, however innocent or even beautiful it may seem in the eyes of men. God breaks a person by letting the old within them die and then raising them up to a new life.
The proclamation that draws friendly parallels between the way of God and that of man is, from a biblical perspective, false and a cruel offense against the hearts of those who listen. The faith of Christ does not run parallel to the world, but cuts through it. When we come to Christ, we do not elevate our old life to a higher plane, but leave it at the cross. The grain of wheat must fall into the earth and die.
We who preach the gospel must not see ourselves as public mediators sent to create a harmonious relationship between Christ and the world. We must not imagine it is our job to adapt Christ to progress, public opinion, sports, or modern education. We are not diplomats, but prophets, and our message is not a compromise, but an either-or.
God offers life, but not an improved version of the old life. The life He offers us is life born from death. The road to the cross is always long. Whoever desires this life must submit to God's chastisement. They must reject themselves and accept God's righteous judgment upon them.
The faith of Christ does not run parallel to the world, but cuts through it.
What does this mean for the individual, for the damned person who wants to find new life in Jesus Christ? How can this theology be put into practice? Quite simply: The person must repent and believe. They must first renounce their sins and then themselves. They must not conceal anything, defend anything, or excuse anything. They must not try to bargain with God, but must submit to the harsh blow of God's displeasure (with sin) and recognize that they deserve death.
Having done this, he should look to the risen Savior with childlike trust; from Him comes life, rebirth, purification, and strength. The cross, which ended Jesus' earthly life, also ends the sinner's life; and the power that raised Christ from the dead also raises him to a new life with Christ.
To anyone who dismisses this as merely a limited and private opinion of the truth, I would like to say that God has sealed this message—from the time of Paul to the present day. Whether it is expressed in such a precise statement as here or not, this is the essence of all preaching that has brought life and power to the world throughout the ages. Mystics, reformers, and revival preachers have repeatedly emphasized this, and signs, wonders, and mighty works of the Holy Spirit testify to God's confirmation.
Do we, as heirs to such a powerful testament, dare to tamper with the truth? Do we dare to blur the lines of God's plan with our blunt pencils, or to alter the pattern shown to us on Mount Sinai? May God forbid. Let us preach the ancient cross, and we will experience new strength.
AW Tozer (1897 – 1963)
Published by Herold-Schriftenmission
