Atonement Requires Sinners

A VAGUE notion is abroad in the world that the benefit of Christ’s passion is intended only for good people. The preaching of some ministers, and the talk of some professors, would lead the uninstructed to imagine that Christ came into the world to save the righteous, to call the godly to repentance, and to heal those who never were sick.

There is in most sinners’ consciences, when they are aroused, a frightful fear that Christ could not have come to bless such as they are, but that He must have intended the merit of His blood and the efficacy of His passion for those who possess good works or feelings to recommend them to Him.

Dear friends, you will clearly see, if you will but open one eye, how inconsistent such a supposition is with the whole teaching of Scripture. Consider the plan itself. It was a plan of salvation and of necessity, it was intended to bless sinners. Wherefore salvation if men be not lost, and for whom salvation but for the ruined? The plan was based in grace, but how “grace” unless it was meant for persons who deserve nothing?

If you have to deal with creatures who have not sinned, and have been obedient, what need of grace?

Build then on justice, let merit have its way. But as the whole covenant is a covenant of grace, and as in the whole matter it was ordained that grace should reign through righteousness unto eternal life, it is plain enough from the very plan itself that it must have to do with sinners and not with the righteous.

Moreover, think of the work itself. The work of Christ was to bring in a perfect righteousness. For whom, think you? For those who had a righteousness? That were a superfluity. Why should He weave a garment for those who were already clothed in scarlet and fine linen? He had, moreover, to shed His blood. For whom His blood? Wherefore the agony in the garden? Why the cry upon the cross? For the perfect? Surely not, beloved. What need had they of an atonement? Verily, brethren, the fact that Jesus Christ bled for sin upon the cross bears, on its very surface, evidence that He came into the world to save sinners.

And then look at God’s end in the whole work. It was to glorify Himself, but how could God be glorified by washing spotless souls, and by bringing to everlasting glory by grace those who could have entered heaven by merit? Inasmuch as the plan and design both aim at laying the greatness of human nature in the dust, and exalting God, and making His love and His mercy to be magnified, it is implied as a matter of necessity that it came to deal with undeserving, ill-deserving sinners, or else that end and aim never could be accomplished.

Salvation needs a sinner as the raw material upon which to exercise its workmanship—the precious blood that cleanses needs a filthy sinner upon whom to show its power to purge—the atonement of Christ needs guilt upon which to exercise itself in the taking of it away. And it is absurd, it is ridiculous, it is unworthy of God to suppose a scheme of salvation, a work so tremendous as the atonement of Christ, and an aim so splendid as the glorification of God, unless there are sinners to be the instruments of God’s glory through being the partakers of God’s grace.

A moment’s thought will be enough to convince us that the whole plan is made for sinners, and that “Jesus Christ died for the ungodly.” Indeed dear friends, it is only when we get this view very clearly before us that we see Jesus in His glory. When does the shepherd appear most lovely? It is a fair picture to portray him in the midst of his flock, feeding them in the green pastures, and leading them beside the still waters, but if my heart is to leap for joy, give me the shepherd pursuing his stray sheep over the mountains, let me see him bringing home that sheep upon his shoulders rejoicing, let me hear his song of mirth when he calls upon his friends and neighbors to rejoice with him because he has found the sheep which was lost.

When looks our God look most like a loving and tender father? Truly He looks blessed when He divides His inheritance among His sons, but I never saw Him so resplendent in His fatherhood as when He runs out to meet the prodigal, throws His arms about his neck, and kisses him, crying—“My son who was dead is alive again.”

Indeed, for some offices of Christ, it is absolutely necessary that there should be a sinner for us to see any meaning in them at all. He is a Priest. What need of a priest except for the sins of the people? Why, I dare to say it, Christ’s priesthood is a mockery and Christ’s sacrifice is ridiculous unless there be sin in the world, and sinners whom Jesus came to save. Brethren, how is He a Savior except to the lost? How is He a physician but to the sick? How is He like the brazen serpent if He does not save the sin-bitten, or how the scapegoat if He does not bear the sin of transgressors?

Our text, in its threefold character, shows the intimate connection which exists between Jesus and sinners, for in none of its sentences is there meaning unless there be a sinner, and unless Christ has come into connection with him.