What Is the Gospel?

“For I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ.” Rom. i :16.

IT has always seemed to me that this text of Scripture shines like a star in the midnight darkness of this chapter, for it has been truly said that not in all the world’s history has there ever been given such a marvelous description of sin as the apostle gives in the first chapter of this great Epistle. It is the description of the human heart, and especially of the unregenerate heart. Yet here, in the midst of all the darkness, we find a perfect gem of a statement: “For I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ.” The apostle’s eyes must have flashed as he dictated it; his face must have flushed; his fingers must have twitched nervously as he realized the power of it. I imagine that he quite understood that it was to be the power to overthrow the influence of culture which was not consecrated, when he said, “I am willing to declare it even in Rome.” Rome was then the centre of culture in the known world. He knew that there would be power to overcome prejudice, for he said, “It is the power of God unto the Jews as well as unto the Greek.” Surely he realized that in it there was an influence that would overpower wisdom when it had not been yielded to God.

I question whether there has ever been a stronger statement than this: “I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ.” I think the best reason for the apostle’s using the expression is that he knew it was the power that would overcome sin. He knew that by the Gospel story the slave of sin would be set free. He knew that the man blinded with passion would be given freedom. There is music in the very sound of the word, “Gospel.” It means “Good news.” It is good news to the man who, for years, has been blinded by scepticism. It is good news for the woman who, for years, has been overtaken with a fault. It is good news for the man who thinks he is hopeless. It is the greatest news the sinning world has ever heard, and the unregenerate man has ever received. “I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ.”

The text is marvelous in its words. First, take the word “Gospel.” Sometimes we hear people say that all a minister needs to do is to preach the simple Gospel. There is no such thing as a simple Gospel. The Gospel is the greatest conception of truth the world has ever heard. The Gospel is the story that makes all the angels in heaven stand in wonderment. The Gospel is the story that all the saints in glory will sing about. There is no such thing as a simple Gospel. It is the most wonderful story that we could ever hear.

The next word is this — “Christ.” “I am not

ashamed of the Gospel of Christ.” “Christ” is His anointed name; “Jesus” His earthly name. “Christ” — the name that will make all the saints in glory sing piaises unto Him who has redeemed us by His own precious blood.

The next word in the verse that causes us to stop and think is “Power.” “For it is the power of God unto salvation to everyone that believeth.” It is the power of God. Nothing can stand before it, and I care not what may be your condition in sin, nor what may be your position in doubt, if you give this Gospel a fair chance it will break the fetters of sin, and drive away the gloom of doubt.

The next word is “Salvation.” “It is the power of God unto salvation.” There is a three-fold salvation. In second Corinthians, I :io, we read: “Who delivered us from so great a death, and doth deliver; in whom we trust that He will yet deliver us.” So that if you should say to me, “Are you saved?” and I should say, “I have been saved,” that would be a Scriptural answer. And if you should say to me again, “Are you saved?” and I should say, “I am being saved,” my reply would still be Scriptural. But if you would say to me yet again, “Are you saved?” and I should answer, “I shall be saved.” It would be quite as Scriptural as my former replies. For I have been saved from the penalty of sin; I am being saved from the power of sin; and I shall one day be saved from the presence of sin. “Salvation” is a marvelous word. Salvation comes because of the death of Jesus and our acceptance of Him. I try to allow no one to go beyond me in giving emphasis to the power of His death. Yet I sometimes think we do not sufficiently emphasize His wonderful life. So the Gospel means a great deal more to-day than some would think.

First of all, then — In His life He is our Example. I. Peter, 2-21: “For even hereunto were ye called; because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example.” Have you ever noticed He did not say that he left us a pattern? What is the difference between a pattern and an example? A pattern is a thing that must be reproduced in exactness. An example is that which may be reproduced in spirit. I might not be able to live just as Jesus lived, because He was in the Orient and I am here. But I may be able to live in the spirit of Jesus. And what I am trying to preach is this — that the revival we need is a revival which will teach men how to practice the principles of Jesus in their business, in their homes, in their pleasure. He has left us an example. So that in His living He is a part of the Gospel story.

But that is not all. In His death He is our Redeemer. There are two sentences that I think men ought to realize in these days. This is the first one: “The wages of sin is death.” God has never changed that. There is another sentence: “The soul that

sinneth it shall die.” God has not taken that back either. But there is still another Scripture. “So Christ was once offered.” And still again, “Christ died for our sins according to the Scripture.” Whenever I find one minimizing sin, I always find him minimizing the atonement. Whenever we find them saying that sin is only a mistake, I find them saying that men may be saved by their strength of character rather than by Calvary. It is only by the death of Jesus that we may be saved. He paid the penalty. He suffered in our stead. He offered Himself for you and for me, and there is no other way to be saved. On the authority of God’s Word I make this statement. You can find no other way to be saved than this — an absolute surrender to God in the acceptance of Jesus Christ as a personal Saviour. So, in His living He is our example. In His dying He is our Redeemer.

But that is not all the Gospel. In His burial He is our Scapegoat. In the fourth chapter of Romans, twenty-fifth verse, we read this — “Who was delivered because of our offences.” Then, if you will turn over to Leviticus, you will find the scapegoat of the Old Testament. This is Jewish, of course, but may be used as an illustration. The priest stood with his hands upon the head of the goat, confessing the sins of Israel, and the goat was led away into a land where no man lived, bearing the sins of Israel. If Jesus died for my sin upon Calvary, how does He meet my sins? He becomes my scapegoat, bearing my sins away as far as the east is from the west. Into the depths of the sea they are cast. Behind God’s back they are thrown. So that when one comes to me drunken, or impure, or dishonest, I can look him in the face and say, “I have a mighty Saviour. He has answered for your sin on Calvary, and will bear away your sins.” In His burial He is my scapegoat.

But that is not all the Gospel. In His resurrection He is my I ustiUcation. “He was delivered because of our offenses.” But read Romans, 4:25 again:

“He was raised because of our justification.” We have a song ye sometimes sing, which is in many ways great, but which is wrong in one particular. We sing, “He tore the bars away, Jesus, my Saviour.” It is a picture of His resurrection, but He did nothing of the sort. He did not tear the bars away. Suppose you put a man in prison, and he is in for five years, and three years after his imprisonment he tears the bars away, and escapes. The law can put him back again. But if you put a man in prison, and he serves the full term and comes out, the law cannot put him back again. Jesus never tore the bars away. The time was up. He had fulfilled the conditions. He had met all the demands of the law, and the stone was rolled away, and He came out answering for my justification. That is the Gospel.

What is justification? Justification means that you stand before God as if you never had sinned. Justification means that your sins are put behind God’s back, and forgotten. Justification means that you are before Him with an absolutely clean record. Not in your own thought, possibly, and not always in the judgment of men, possibly, but in the judgment of God. That is justification, and that is the Gospel. In His Resurrection is my hope.

But, let me say, that is not, by any means, all the Gospel. In His ascension He is our Head. If He is the head of the Church, then two things must be true. First, He must direct the Church. Second, we must honor the Head. I am quite sure that the man who attacks the Deity of Jesus, putting Him on the same plane with Confucius and Bhudda, puts a barrier in the way of spiritual progress that is absolutely insurmountable. He is the Head of the Church. If He is, then let the Church follow His direction. If my head wills one thing, and my foot does another, there is confusion. I can tell you when cities will be made better, when righteousness will prevail in politics, when the laboring man will receive his just dues, when the capitalist and the merchant will be treated fairly. It will be when we follow the leading of Jesus. In His ascension He is our Head.

I do not wonder St. Paul said, “I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ.” He knew that it reached down to the lowest and climbed up to the highest.

But that is not all the Gospel. In His coming He is our Hope. In these days, when people’s hearts are breaking, in these days when cities are going so far from God, in these days when I see men unjustly treated, in these days when the plans of men fail, I lift my eyes and say, “Oh, Lord Jesus, how long? How long?” When He comes, every wrong of earth will be set right. So, come, Lord Jesus, come quickly!

Some one may say, “Doesn’t the belief in the Lord’s second coming make you a bit of a fanatic?” In answer, permit me to say that holding to anything will make you a fanatic if you press it out of proportion. A friend of mine, a great preacher in Boston, lived out of the city in the summer-time. He used to go away to Boston early in the morning, and he would say to his little children, “I am coming home on the five o’clock train. I want you to meet me.” While he was gone in the city, the children would play — as children will — and their frocks would

7 1

become soiled, and their faces, too, but whenever they knew their father was coming they would hurriedly clean up and hasten to meet him. One day my friend, as he left his home, said, “Children, I am going to the city. I do not know when I shall be coming home, whether it will be at ten o’clock or at noon. I may not be back until six o’clock, or I may not come until * to-morrow. You watch for me.” And he told me that he did not come back for a week. But the children met every train, looking for him; and this kept them clean for a week. I think this Hope of Jesus’ return will change one’s living. If I believe that Jesus is coming soon I will not be unscrupulous in my dealing with men. I will not be sinful. I will not be unclean. I will not be impure. I will not be faithless.

In His living He is my Example.

In His dying He is my Redeemer.

In His burial He is my Scapegoat.

In His resurrection He is my Justification.

In His ascension He is my Head.

But in His coming again He is my Hope. And so may we say, “I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ.”