Good Friday Without Adam: Why the New Birth Became Optional

This Good Friday sermon was preached by Rev Samuel Christian at Grace Church Ballarat. This was a relatively new appointment, after the minister had spent many years establishing a theological College in northern India.

I make observations with care. I personally know this man as earnest, reverent, and sincerely concerned to preach Christ crucified. The issue though with "The New Birth in Exile" series is not ministerial character, sincerity, or basic evangelical commitment. The “New Birth in Exile” series focuses upon theological architecture of the sermon as preached, with attention to the burning issue that Easter forces us to focus upon: the necessity we have of being born again. On that test, this sermon contained many great doctrinal materials but it did not finally press the necessity of regeneration with sufficient urgency.

The central weakness of this Good Friday sermon was not that it denied the cross, wrath, substitution, judgment, or resurrection victory. It mentioned all of these. The weakness was that it did not sufficiently explain the Adamic and image-bearing crisis that makes the cross necessary. 

Where death in Adam is absent, the new birth will almost certainly be under-preached, because the hearer has not been shown the depth of his ruin, the impossibility of self-restoration, or the necessity of being remade in Christ, the true and faithful image-bearer.

The sermon had real strengths

This was not a shallow Good Friday sermon. It was not merely sentimental. It did not reduce the cross to an example of love, courage, or human suffering. The preacher read Matthew 27:45–56 and dealt seriously with the darkness, Christ’s cry of dereliction, the torn temple curtain, the earthquake, the opened tombs, and the centurion’s confession.

The sermon spoke plainly of hell, darkness, judgment, and exclusion from God. The preacher described hell as being “shut out from the presence of God” and connected that darkness to Christ’s cry, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” He also pressed the personal seriousness of sin, saying that in the darkness there was “Jesus and your sin,” including “every bad word,” “every evil thought,” “every little” lie, and “every unforgiving thought.”

The sermon also made a real attempt to preach substitution. It said that Christ went through hell, was forsaken, and paid the price for sin. It also told the congregation that sin must be paid for with death and that God’s judgment requires death, even eternal death. These are serious statements. They are not the language of liberalism or moralism.

There was also a genuine attempt to preach the “great exchange.” The preacher said that Christ, who knew no sin, became sin for us, so that sinners might become the righteousness of God. He then said, “Christ bore our sin and gave us his righteousness.” That is a strong and precious gospel statement.

The temple curtain section also had real promise. The preacher spoke of the Holy of Holies as the place of God’s presence, the danger of approaching God casually, the high priest entering with blood, and Christ as the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. He then asked a good pastoral question: what did it cost for sinners to come into God’s presence and call Him Father? His answer was: “the death of the Son of God in that darkness.”

These are genuine strengths. They should be acknowledged. This sermon was trying to preach Good Friday as atonement, not merely as inspiration.

The deeper problem: doctrines were identified but not made necessary

The sermon’s weakness is not best described as doctrinal absence. It is better described as doctrinal under-integration.

The preacher identified darkness, wrath, judgment, substitution, love, imputation, temple access, resurrection, and invitation. But these doctrines were often not opened up in their full relevance to the sinner’s condition before God. The congregation heard many true things, but not always the connecting logic that makes those truths unavoidable.

As an example, the description of hell being shut out of the presence of God is inadequate. Hell is indeed banishment from the joy of God’s favourable presence, but it is also the conscious endurance of God’s wrath for eternity. Without wrath, hell may sound like tragic separation rather than judicial punishment. And if hell is reduced to separation, then the cross itself can be reduced to Christ experiencing abandonment rather than Christ satisfying divine justice by bearing the curse due to sinners.

This is why the sermon sounds doctrinally serious and yet still feel strangely vague at times. It did not usually say false things. Rather, it often failed to complete the theological movement from sign to significance, from sin to sinful nature, from cross to imputation, from access to holiness, from resurrection to new birth, and from invitation to urgent repentance and faith.

Sin was treated mainly as acts, not sufficiently as Adamic condition

The sermon named actual sins: bad words, evil thoughts, lies, unforgiving thoughts. That was pastorally useful. Actual sins should be named. But Good Friday preaching must go deeper than the sins we commit. It must ask: Why am I sinful?

That question was largely missing.

The Westminster Shorter Catechism gives the needed categories: all mankind fell in Adam’s first transgression; the sinfulness of our fallen estate consists in the guilt of Adam’s first sin, the lack of original righteousness, the corruption of the whole nature, and all actual sins that proceed from it; and the misery of that estate includes lost communion with God, wrath, curse, death, and hell.

That is what the sermon needed at its centre. Sin is not merely that I have done bad things. Sin is that I am fallen in Adam, guilty before God, corrupt in nature, lacking original righteousness, spiritually dead, and liable to judgment. My actual sins are the bad fruit of a deeper root.

Without that, the sermon can unintentionally suggest that Jesus died mainly because I have accumulated sinful actions. But the gospel is more searching: Christ died because I am a failed image-bearer in Adam, guilty by representation, corrupt by nature, and unable to make myself righteous before God.

This is why the absence of death in Adam is so serious in Easter sermons. If the preacher does not show the congregation that they are dead in Adam, he will almost certainly under-preach the new birth. No urgency or necessity will be given. Regeneration will seem like an additional blessing rather than the indispensable act of God by which dead sinners are made alive in Christ.

The image-bearing crisis was missing

Closely related to the portrayal of sin above, the sermon’s anthropology would also have been stronger if it had connected Adam, image-bearing, judgment, and Christ.

Human beings are not merely religious consumers who need forgiveness. We were created in the image of God. We were made to reflect His holiness, righteousness, knowledge, love, and dominion under His rule. On the Day of Judgment, the issue will not be whether we felt moved by religious truth, but whether we have borne God’s image faithfully before Him.

The terrible truth is that we have not. In Adam, humanity has failed. The image is not erased, but it is defaced, corrupted, and turned against God. We still bear God’s image structurally, but not faithfully. We image God as rebels.

This means that the only faithful image-bearer who can stand before God on the Day of Judgment is Christ. He is the true man, the last Adam, the obedient Son, the faithful image of God. He alone has rendered the obedience humanity owes. He alone can stand before God without shame. He alone can bear judgment for His people and graciously clothe us in in righteousness.

These elements would have deepened the sermon’s treatment of Calvary. At Calvary, God shows us who He is: too holy to ignore sin, too just to pardon without satisfaction, too merciful to leave His people outside, and too loving to spare His own Son. But Calvary also shows us what true humanity is: the faithful Son, the obedient image-bearer, the last Adam, standing where failed image-bearers should have stood, bearing the judgment they deserved, and opening the way for them to be justified, renewed, and conformed to His image.

Something along these lines is the theological anthropology the sermon needed to be able to press the urgency of Easter.

Temple typology was promising but underdeveloped

The temple section was one of the sermon’s best opportunities to press these issues. The preacher rightly identified the Holy of Holies, the danger of entering God’s presence, the need for sacrificial blood, and Christ as the Lamb of God. He also connected the torn curtain with access to God and the privilege of calling God Father.

But the typology could have done more. The torn curtain is not merely a symbol that access is now open. It is the climactic revelation of God’s holiness and mercy through the death of Christ.

A fuller exposition could may have moved through redemptive history:

Adam made in the image of God.

Eden: man expelled from God’s presence.

Tabernacle and temple: God dwelling among His people, yet with restricted access.

Priesthood: mediation required.

Sacrifice: shed blood required as evidence of death for sin

Day of Atonement: one representative enters, and only with blood.

Calvary: Christ is the true temple, true priest, true sacrifice, true mercy seat, and true access to the Father.

This would have shown that God has been revealing Himself through history, and that at Calvary His self-revelation reaches its fullness. The sermon said something close to this, but it did not fully build the typological argument that it introduced. It named the temple realities but did not sufficiently unfold their covenantal relevance.

The resurrection was mentioned, but not brought into new-birth urgency

The sermon rightly resisted separating Christ’s death and resurrection. It said that Jesus’ sacrificial death blots out sins, defeats evil and death, opens access to God, and that His resurrection and vindication promise final resurrection for those who believe.

That is good. But again, the personal necessity of new life was not sufficiently pressed and the opportunity had passed.

Matthew’s opened tombs are not merely an interesting supernatural sign. They are an announcement that Christ’s death and resurrection inaugurate the defeat of death itself and the inauguration of the new creation. But if the hearer remains in Adam, he remains under death. The question is therefore not merely, “Do you believe that Jesus rose?” but, “Have you been brought from death to life in Him?” This is where the sermon did not do enough with the text. Resurrection victory was affirmed, but regeneration was not made urgent.

The invitation was sincere but weak

The sermon concluded with a gracious invitation which is always welcome. The preacher asked, “Have you received him yet or not?” and urged the hearer: “If not, what are you waiting for? Today is the day. Consider Christ.”

That is sincere and pastorally direct. It should not be dismissed. But it was still too thin.

The question “Have you received Him?” needs doctrinal content. Receive Christ as what? Receive Him from what danger? Receive Him how? Receive Him instead of what? The pressing of the alternatives was undermined with “consider Christ”

Perhaps a stronger Good Friday invitation might have said something like this:

You are not merely someone who has made mistakes. You are born in Adam’s image, guilty, corrupt, and unable to save yourself just like Adam. Not only that, but you, like Adam were made in God’s image, but you have not borne that image faithfully. On the Day of Judgment, only one faithful image-bearer can stand before God: His name is Jesus Christ, the last Adam, the perfect likeness of The Father. He bore the curse. He satisfied justice. He opened the way into God’s presence. He freely gives His righteousness to sinners who seek him. Therefore, abandon every confidence in yourself. Repent. Believe on Christ. Ask God for the new birth. Unless you are born again, you cannot see the kingdom of God. I am sure though that the preacher of this sermon could express this better than me.

Final thoughts.

This was a serious sermon by an earnest preacher. It referenced many important Good Friday doctrines: darkness, wrath, hell, substitution, love, the great exchange, temple access, death, resurrection, and the call to receive Christ.

But the sermon’s doctrinal logic remained incomplete and the result was a sermon that was orthodox in many statements but under-integrated in its saving argument. Many doctrines were present, but the necessity of those doctrines was not fully pressed upon the conscience.

Perhaps a central lesson to be learned from this sermon is this: if death in Adam is absent, the new birth will almost certainly be under-preached. No urgency or necessity can be given. The sinner may hear that Jesus died for sins, but not that he is dead in Adam and must be made alive in Christ. He may hear that Christ opens access to God, but not that he is a failed image-bearer who cannot stand before God unless clothed in the righteousness of the faithful Son. He may be invited to receive Christ, but not brought to feel why receiving Christ is the difference between the eternal abode of heaven or hell.

A Good Friday sermon must not merely make hearers admire Calvary. It must bring them beneath Calvary. It must show them that the darkness is deserved, the judgment is just, the curtain remains closed to all outside of Christ. Adam has failed, the image is defaced, self-salvation is impossible, and only Christ, crucified and risen, can save. Then it must call them, urgently and tenderly, to repent, believe, and be born again by the Spirit of God.

A copy of the full sermon is available at The Reformed Pastor's Youtube channel

More articles from Good Friday sermon in "The New Birth in Exile".