Good Friday—The Cup of Christ: Faithful Suffering and the Way of the Cross
In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Jesus said to Peter, “Put your sword into the sheath. Shall I not drink the cup which My Father has given Me?”
With these words, our Lord stops Peter from taking matters into his own hands. He will not resist arrest. He will not run. He will not grasp for control. Instead, He steps forward—not to fight, but to suffer, to obey His Father's will out of perfect love for the Father and for us sinners. “For when we were still without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly. For scarcely for a righteous man will one die; yet perhaps for a good man someone would even dare to die. But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Much more then, having now been justified by His blood, we shall be saved from wrath through Him” (Romans 5:6-9).
Christ doesn’t cast away the cup that the Father has given to Him to drink. Our Lord drinks the cup of wrath for each of you—the cup filled with your sin, your shame, your death. When Jesus asks, Shall I not drink the cup which My Father has given Me?, He isn’t throwing up His hands in resignation. He isn’t giving up. He is faithfully submitting Himself to the will of God the Father, even to death on a cross. He knows what must take place and isn’t looking for a way out of it. He is taking up His own cross and following the will of God in perfect love for the Father and for us. He is choosing faithfulness over the world’s approval or His own personal comfort. Our Lord Jesus is the Christ, the Messiah, our Savior, who drinks the cup the Father has given.
Every Christian must pass along this path of suffering and death that our Lord has walked before us. And yet, we so often speak and act as though we can avoid it. We think and behave as St. Peter, taking matters into our own hands to avoid the cross our Lord would have us pick up daily to follow Him. Consider what crosses, what cups, the Father would give us, that we try so hard to avoid. Our attempts at cross avoidance can be seen clearly by what we blame and what we ignore in our churches and in our households.
So often in Christian congregations and larger church bodies like our own Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod, we gripe and grumble among ourselves or hear church leaders say that the Church is in decline because of how the church body governs, or because of music and other ceremonies, or because of a lack of programs. These are the sort of factors we like to blame regardless of where we fall on the spectrum of a particular issue. But what do we ignore?
It is rarely the case that we make mention of our own failure to pray, our failure to instruct our household in the Christian faith, show hospitality to visitors, or show tolerance and understanding toward fellow believers whose personal piety might look a little different than our own. It is far easier to complain and shift blame elsewhere, instead of taking the cup by turning to Christ and saying, “Lord, have mercy on me. Grant me repentance. Forgive me for my failures to live out the faith and train up my own household in the fear and admonition of the Lord along with my other sins that have led your Church into decline and have caused those outside your Church to blaspheme Your name.”
It is far easier to blame decline on things like what music we choose for services, what instruments we use, and other externals. After all, these are a simple matter of logistics. They don’t require true contrition and living faith. They don’t demand anything of you personally in any sort of real way. They don’t require you to be kind and understanding toward those who disagree with you. They don’t require any real arduous change in you at all.
And so we obsess over surface matters: musical selection, instruments, postures, or what furniture is in the chancel—all the externals that require no repentance, no self-examination, and no love. We argue over what’s “too Catholic” or “not Lutheran,” when the real problem is that we do not want to be humbled. But much of what we reject in discomfort—kneeling, bowing, vestments, incense, Psalms—is neither un-Lutheran nor unbiblical. It is simply unfamiliar. And rather than confess our unease, we disguise it as principle. But this blame-shifting only distracts from the real damage: our own griping, our failure to teach our children, our refusal to live out the faith in our household and community.
We in the pastoral office are not immune. Some say the Church is shrinking because we’re “too strict” about the Lord’s Supper. That we ought to practice a “sacramental hospitality” that allows any one professing to be Christian who walks in the doors of an LCMS church to partake of the Lord’s Supper that day, no questions asked. But Scripture doesn’t speak of the Sacrament of the Altar or a pastor’s responsibilities this way.
Scripture tells us, “Let a man examine himself… For he who eats and drinks in an unworthy manner eats and drinks judgment to himself, not discerning the Lord’s body” (1 Corinthians 11:28–29). But this doesn’t mean we simply assume that a man or woman knows what it means to examine themselves. That’s why St. Paul also writes, “Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they are keeping watch over your souls as those who will give an account” (Hebrews 13:17). Pastors must do what they can to be sure that those communing at a given altar understand what self-examination entails, what it is they are receiving, and what faith is confessed at that altar.
Christians are also warned to “reject the divisive man [literally, ‘heretical man’] after a first and second warning” (Titus 3:10–11), and to “avoid those who cause divisions by teaching contrary to the doctrine you have been taught” (Romans 16:17). St. Paul even writes that we are “not even to eat with such a person” who claims to be a brother but persists in false teaching and ungodly living (1 Corinthians 5:11). These are not unloving words. They are the very means by which Christ preserves the purity of His Gospel and protects His sheep. How he shows us that what we believe and how we live really does matter. This is why our Lutheran Confessions also speak so clearly about the pastor’s responsibility in admitting communicants to the Lord’s Supper. “Among us many use the Lord’s Supper every Lord’s Day. They do so after they have been first instructed, examined, and absolved” (Ap XV [VIII] 40). This is not gatekeeping for its own sake—it is pastoral care for the sake of Christ’s Word and Christ’s people.
Faithfully carrying out the Office of Pastor by holding people accountable takes time. It causes tension. It’s misunderstood. It draws accusations. And so, many abandon the faithful carrying out of the Office by neglecting to practice Closed Communion and speaking other difficult words regarding repentance and godly living. But Jesus does not say, “Take this and share it with anyone, no questions asked.” He says, “Do this in remembrance of Me.” That is, according to His Word.
To care for the altar means to care for the souls who approach it. To admit someone to communion is to say—“You and I are one in Christ, in doctrine and life.” To commune without instruction, without repentance, without accountability is not hospitality—it is spiritual negligence. And we pastors often don’t want to drink that cup. We’d rather be liked than faithful. We’d rather be easygoing than watchful. We’d rather act like a cowardly hired hand than suffer reproach as a good and faithful shepherd. But that is not the way of the cross—any more than all the other examples of avoiding the cup, avoiding the cross our Lord would lay on us.
We must remember that the way of Christ is the way of the cross. The world—and even many voices in the Church—would have you believe some magic list of steps that will ensure you can avoid the cross: steps to fix your marriage, steps to make your church grow, steps to create a peaceful household. But these checklists often distort the reality of the Christian life in this world when it comes to suffering as a Christian.
Jesus tells us, “In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). Scripture clearly tells us, “All who desire to live godly in Christ Jesus will suffer persecution” (2 Timothy 3:12). “Do not think it strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened to you; but rejoice to the extent that you partake of Christ’s sufferings” (1 Peter 4:12–13). Paul and Barnabas told the early Christians, “We must go through many tribulations on our way to the kingdom of God” (Acts 14:22). And again, “To you it has been granted on behalf of Christ, not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer for His sake” (Philippians 1:29).
So often we deceive ourselves—and are deceived—into denying what Scripture plainly says. “The time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine… They will heap up for themselves teachers… and be turned aside to fables” (2 Tim. 4:3–4). “Many will fall away from the faith. They will betray each other and hate each other” (Matt. 24:10). We are dooped into thinking we can do things just the right way to prevent these prophecies of the Holy Spirit from coming to pass.
Yet Christ not only invites you to receive His gifts—He invites you to walk with Him. “If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow Me.” This means daily repentance. It means looking at your own sins and failures before blaming others for what’s going wrong around you. It means speaking the truth even when unpopular, living the faith at home and in this world, loving and suffering with others, bearing with one another in love, and striving to be of one mind and at peace with one another.
There is no room for the glory that this world offers. Instead, “let love be without hypocrisy. Abhor what is evil. Cling to what is good. Be kindly affectionate to one another with brotherly love… Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, continue steadfastly in prayer…” (Rom. 12:9–16). This is the cruciform life. This is the way of the cross.
In short, it means to live faithfully and suffer patiently as a Christian—not looking for the world’s acceptance or the devil’s shortcuts. It means fixing your eyes on Jesus, the Author and Finisher of your faith. “We have an altar from which those who serve the tabernacle have no right to eat. For the bodies of those animals, whose blood is brought into the sanctuary by the high priest for sin, are burned outside the camp. Therefore Jesus also, that He might sanctify the people with His own blood, suffered outside the gate. Therefore let us go forth to Him, outside the camp, bearing His reproach. For here we have no continuing city, but we seek the one to come” (Heb. 13:10–14).
So we keep ourselves from the world and its vain glory, and we cling to Christ’s cross. Not to save ourselves, but to know—and believe in our hearts—that in the cross of Christ, it is finished.
We take up the cross the Lord places on us—even if it means losing goods, fame, child, wife, friends, neighbors, congregation members, or anything else. Because to reject the suffering Christ gives is to spurn the One who suffered for you. It is to exchange the glory of God for the approval of men. The unbelieving world that would say Jesus could have avoided suffering if only He had paid closer attention to what the community and culture expected and desired from a religious leader.
But you can now suffer patiently. Why? Because Christ has already suffered patiently before you—and for your sake. He drank the cup of the Father’s wrath to the dregs, so that now you can take up a yoke that is easy and a burden that is light and have eternal rest in His holy wounds.
You are not the one who must save your household, your congregation, the Synod, or the Church. Those burdens belong to your Lord and He will work all things for our good because He has made peace between us and Himself by the blood of His cross. Nothing stands between you and God except the love of Christ Jesus. In this life, what He gives you is this: be faithful where He has put you. Faithful in joy, faithful in hardship. Faithful when it’s easy, and faithful when it’s not. Certain that after we suffer awhile in this valley of sorrow, Christ will bring us into a joy that has no end. His suffering and death weren’t the end. And dear Christian, your suffering and death are not the end either.
Take heart. There is no need to blame. You and I share the blame for the suffering of this life. But Christ bore that blame in His body and so has transformed our sufferings into a loving correction and chastisement sent by the Father for our good. Be at peace with God and with one another. Christ Himself is our peace. “For it pleased the Father that in Him all the fullness should dwell, and by Him to reconcile all things to Himself, by Him, whether things on earth or things in heaven, having made peace through the blood of His cross” (Colossians 1:19-20).
Knowing down in your bones what great salvation our Lord Jesus has gained for you. Being certain that He has done all things necessary to secure your place in His heavenly kingdom, let us walk with Him now and follow in His footsteps. Let us suffer here with Him, knowing that He is using that suffering to form us more and more into His image and that though we sow in tears now, we shall doubtless come into eternity with rejoicing and songs of joy. Let us die with Him. Die to self. Die to sin. And let us gladly live with our Lord Jesus. We live in Him and for Him now. We will live with Him hereafter.
“For you did not receive the spirit of bondage again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, “Abba, Father.” The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him, that we may also be glorified together. For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.” (Romans 8:15-19).
Let us pray. Lord God, heavenly Father, in Your fatherly grace You did not spare Your only Son but gave Him up to drink the cup You placed before Him and to suffer death upon the cross for us. Pour Your Holy Spirit into our hearts, that we may not turn aside from the crosses You give, but find our highest comfort in Your mercy. Guard us from the temptation to run from suffering or excuse our sin, and help us to follow Christ in faith, bearing patiently whatever hardships may come, that through Him we may obtain eternal life; through the same Jesus Christ, Your beloved Son, our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one true God, now and forever. Amen.
