When Orthodox Words Remain Undefined: A Good Friday Sermon and the Loss of Experiential Force

Rev Gary Wentworth’s Good Friday sermon at Sommerville Presbyterian Church on John 12:27–36 should first be acknowledged as broadly orthodox. It is not a liberal sermon. It is not a sermon that openly denies substitution, sin, divine sovereignty, or the saving purpose of Christ’s death. It speaks of Jesus as the Lamb of God, refers to his life given as a ransom, cites Isaiah 53, acknowledges that the Father ordained the cross, and asks hearers whether Jesus is their Saviour. 

In several places, the sermon uses recognisably biblical and evangelical language. Yet for that very reason it provides a useful case study in “The New Birth in Exile” series of a subtle homiletical danger: the use of orthodox vocabulary without sufficient doctrinal definition or experiential force.

The problem is not that the sermon lacks biblical words. It has many of them. 

It speaks of “sin,” “rebellion,” “ransom,” “sacrifice,” “repentance,” “life,” “death,” “believe,” “judgment,” “darkness,” “light,” and “Saviour.” But many of these words are stated rather than opened. 

They are assumed rather than pressed. They retain their evangelical sound, but not always their doctrinal weight. The result is not heterodoxy, but diminished power. The Word of God is not contradicted; it is under-explained.

Experiential preaching though, is not satisfied with correct terminology alone. It distinguishes between “formal orthodoxy” and “functional theological architecture,” and asks whether preaching brings hearers consciously beneath God’s holiness, human guilt, divine judgment, the saving work of Christ, and the necessity of spiritual rebirth through the Holy Spirit. This Easter Series — The New Birth in Exile — applies this concern especially to resurrection and Easter preaching, asking whether hearers are confronted with their death in Adam and summoned to life in Christ through the new birth. By that measure, Rev Wentworth’s sermon is orthodox in vocabulary but uneven in experiential execution.

What follows is an examination of some of the vague terms used and how such usage weakens the impact of the Word of God to his people.

Exhibit A: “Sin” Is Named but Not Defined as Guilt, Corruption, Wrath, and Death in Adam

The first exhibit is the sermon’s treatment of sin. The preacher rightly rejects the crowd’s political misunderstanding of the Messiah. He says the people thought Jesus might save them from Rome, but “that’s not why he came.” He then identifies the true enemy as “within them,” namely “their own sin” and “their own rebellion” that had “distanced them from God.” This is a good and necessary beginning. The enemy is not finally Rome, circumstance, oppression, ignorance, or misfortune. The human problem is sin.

Yet the phrase “distanced them from God” is too soft unless it is carefully defined. Sin is not merely a relational gap between man and God. It is not merely spiritual estrangement, moral weakness, or the accumulation of wrong actions. Scripture teaches that all people are born in Adam, under the guilt of Adam’s first sin, inheriting a corrupt nature, and therefore coming into the world already alienated from God, inclined to evil, and morally unable to turn themselves savingly to him. We are not born spiritually neutral and then become sinners only by imitation or environment. We are born sinners.

This is crucial for experiential preaching. If sin is treated only as something we do, the hearer may imagine that salvation is simply pardon for bad actions. But Scripture presses deeper. Sin is also what we are by nature in Adam. Adam’s guilt is imputed to his posterity; his corruption is inherited by them; and from that corrupt nature proceed actual sins, rebellion, unbelief, and hostility toward God. Human beings therefore do not merely need moral improvement, religious interest, or renewed sincerity. They need a new birth.

The sermon’s language of “their own sin” and “their own rebellion” is true, but it also needs to be set within this larger biblical anthropology. Sinners are guilty before the Judge of all the earth. They are rebels against divine authority. They are transgressors of God’s law. They are corrupt in nature. They are enslaved under sin’s dominion. They are spiritually dead in Adam. They are children of wrath by nature. They do not simply stand at a distance from God; they stand condemned before him, unless they are united to Christ by grace through faith.

This distinction matters because a softened doctrine of sin produces a softened doctrine of salvation. If sin is only “distance,” then salvation may sound like restored closeness. If sin is only brokenness, salvation may sound like healing. If sin is only bad behaviour, salvation may sound like forgiveness plus moral resolve. But if sin is guilt, corruption, rebellion, bondage, wrath, and death in Adam, then salvation must be nothing less than substitutionary atonement, justification, regeneration, union with Christ, sanctification, and final glorification.

Here the sermon also missed an opportunity to connect the sinner’s helpless condition with John’s wider theology of election and effectual grace. In John 12:32, Jesus says, “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” That language should not remain vague attraction language. In John’s Gospel, the Son is given a people by the Father, lays down his life for his sheep, and effectually draws them through divine grace. The “all people” of John 12 is best understood not as every individual without exception, but as all peoples without distinction — Jews and Greeks, Israel and the nations. The arrival of the Greeks in the preceding verses is not incidental; it signals that the hour of the cross will gather Christ’s people from beyond Israel.

Here was a miss opportunity to sharpen both the doctrine of sin and the urgency of the new birth. If sinners are born guilty in Adam, corrupt in nature, spiritually dead, and unable to come to Christ apart from grace, then their only hope is not moral improvement, religious familiarity, or outward association with the crowd around Jesus. Their only hope is to be born again by the Spirit and drawn savingly to the crucified Son. Christ’s death is not a vague religious gesture toward humanity in general. He gives his life for those whom the Father has given him. He is lifted up to gather his sheep. He draws the dead to life, the guilty to pardon, the enslaved to liberty, and those in darkness into the light.

For this reason, the sermon’s treatment of sin remains insipid. It names sin, but does not sufficiently unfold the crisis sin creates. It does not bring the hearer beneath the biblical reality that he is born guilty in Adam, corrupt by nature, rebellious toward God, spiritually dead, under wrath, unable to save himself, and therefore unable to enter the kingdom unless he is born again. If a sermon does not define the death in which sinners are born, it cannot adequately proclaim the life into which Christ raises them.

The Second Exhibit is the Term “Ransom.”

The sermon quotes Mark 10:45, saying that the Son of Man came “to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.” It later repeats that Jesus would give his life as a ransom “by his death on the cross.” This is central biblical language, and its presence is a strength. But in the sermon, “ransom” remains largely unexplained. The congregation is not told what bondage required ransom, what price was paid, what justice was satisfied, what curse was borne, what wrath was turned away, or how Christ’s death secures release.

Experiential preaching must do more than repeat the word “ransom.” It must bring the sinner to feel the bondage from which he cannot free himself. It must show that Christ’s life is not merely given for our benefit, but given in our place. Ransom should lead into substitution, redemption, curse-bearing, justice, blood, and liberation from sin’s dominion. Without this, “ransom” becomes a familiar evangelical sound rather than a disclosed atoning reality.

The Third Exhibit: The Sermon’s use of “For You and For Me.”

The preacher asks, “Was Jesus crucified for you and for me?” and then says, “if you know the gospel, you know that to be true.” Again, this is not false. It is pastorally intended. But the phrase “for you” needs doctrinal definition. Did Christ die because of us, before us, for our benefit, as our example, or in our place? Did he bear our guilt? Did he endure the curse of the law? Did he propitiate the wrath of God? Did he satisfy divine justice? Did he reconcile sinners to God?

The phrase “for you” is too weighty to remain vague. In the context of Good Friday, it should mean more than personal relevance. It should mean substitution. Christ died as the sinless one in the place of the guilty. He bore what sinners deserved. He did not simply suffer at human hands; he stood under divine judgment as the appointed sacrifice for sin. The sermon contains ingredients of this doctrine, but the application question itself is not sufficiently opened or pressed towards self-examination on this topic. What is assurance before God?

The Fourth Exhibit is the Sermon’s Handling of the Father’s Will.

Here the sermon is stronger. The preacher asks what the Father’s will was, cites John 3:16, speaks of the Son being given in the form of sacrifice, and quotes Isaiah 53:10: “it was the will of the Lord to crush him.” He then says it was “God himself who had decided that this had to happen.” This rightly prevents the cross from being reduced to accident, tragedy, or human injustice. It recognises divine ordination.

Yet even here, the phrase “this had to happen” requires further theological precision. Why did it have to happen? Not merely because prophecy required fulfilment. Not merely because God had planned it. It had to happen because God is holy, sinners are guilty, justice must be satisfied, wrath must be propitiated, the curse must be borne, and salvation cannot come by divine sentiment detached from righteousness. The sermon states the divine necessity of the cross, but does not sufficiently unfold the moral and judicial necessity beneath it.

The Fifth Exhibit is the Sermon’s Language of “Sacrifice.”

The preacher says God gave over his Son “in the form of sacrifice.” This is a crucial term, yet it also remains underdeveloped. Sacrifice is not bare suffering. It is not simply costly love. In biblical categories, sacrifice involves sin, guilt, blood, priesthood, substitution, cleansing, atonement, and acceptance before God. In a Good Friday sermon, “sacrifice” should move the congregation toward propitiation: the Son offers himself to God, bearing sin and satisfying divine justice, so that guilty sinners may be forgiven without God ceasing to be righteous.

The sermon does include one unusually precise forensic statement when quoting Joel Beeke: Christ’s death glorifies God by “satisfying justice,” “repelling the curse against sin,” defeating the devil, and securing a people for the Father. This is one of the strongest moments in the sermon. But it appears more as a quoted theological sentence than as the governing architecture of the sermon. The sermon possesses forensic vocabulary, but not consistently forensic structure. It says enough to show orthodoxy, but not enough to bring the hearer steadily beneath wrath, curse, judgment, and satisfaction. What does the ransom actually consist of and what are the consequences of not have its benefit?

The Sixth Exhibit is the Language of “Life” and “Death.”

Early in the sermon, the preacher cites John’s purpose statement: that by believing Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, “we may have life in his name.” Later, near the close, he asks why Jesus suffered and answers: “that through his death we may have life,” and “have it in abundance.” These are biblical categories. But they need explanation.

In John’s Gospel, “life” is not vague spiritual uplift. It is eternal life in the Son, and John defines eternal life as knowing the Father, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom he has sent. It is life from above, the life of the new birth, the life given by the Spirit, the life of those who pass from death to life through faith in Christ. It is resurrection life, communion with God, reconciliation to the Father through the Son, and participation in the life Christ gives to those united to him. Likewise, “death” is not merely biological death. In John, to remain outside Christ is to remain condemned already; it is to remain under the wrath of God, to die in one’s sins, to face judgment, and to be excluded from the life that consists in knowing God. If “life” and “death” are not defined, the hearer, in all likelihood, understand Good Friday as a message of religious encouragement rather than as the only deliverance from death in Adam, abiding wrath, final judgment, and eternal separation from God.

This is precisely where the “New Birth in Exile” series seeks to press hard. It asks whether preaching confronts hearers with “death in Adam” and summons them to “life in Christ through the new birth.” The sermon says Christ died that we may have life, but it does not sufficiently define the death in which the sinner lies or the life into which Christ brings his people.

The Seventh Exhibit is the Word “Believe.”

The sermon asks, “Do you believe that he did it for you and for me?” It later reads John 12: “believe in the light, that you may become sons of light.” But belief is not distinguished from religious familiarity, historical assent, emotional agreement, or vague personal identification with Jesus. What does it mean to believe savingly? What must be believed? Who is Christ as the object of faith? What false beliefs about the Christ were present in the crowd? What does faith renounce? How does faith relate to repentance?

An evangelistic question can be true and still lack force. “Do you believe?” only pierces the conscience when belief is defined and unbelief is exposed. In John 12, the issue is urgent: the Light is present only “for a little while longer,” and darkness threatens to overtake those who do not believe. The sermon reads this warning, but does not press its danger.

The Eighth Exhibit is the Cluster of “Light,” “Darkness,” And “Sons Of Light.”

This is perhaps the most text-specific weakness. John 12 gives the preacher a ready-made experiential structure: Christ the Light stands before sinners; darkness threatens to overtake them; those who walk in darkness do not know where they are going; while the Light remains, they must believe in the Light and become sons of light.

Yet the sermon does not open darkness as spiritual blindness, unbelief, hardening, judgment, death, and final ruin. Nor does it open “sons of light” as conversion, new birth, adoption, illumination, and participation in the life of Christ. These terms should have carried the sermon into direct appeal: you are either in darkness or in the Light; you are either dead in Adam or alive in Christ; you are either under judgment or drawn savingly to the lifted-up Son. Instead, the terms are largely repeated rather than expounded.

The Ninth Exhibit is the Closing Question: “Is Jesus Your Saviour?”

This is a proper question, but again, “Saviour” must be filled with content. Saviour from what? From Roman oppression? From loneliness? From purposelessness? From guilt? From wrath? From the curse? From death? From Satan? From sin’s dominion? From hell? From oneself? From the wages of sin? A Good Friday sermon must answer this with clarity: Christ saves his people from their sins, not in the sense that they no longer struggle with indwelling sin, but in the full biblical sense that he saves them from sin’s guilt, sin’s penalty, sin’s reign, sin’s curse, sin’s deserved wrath, and finally sin’s presence.

The Cumulative Problem

As you can see, the problem here is not one isolated phrase. It is the accumulation of undefined saving terms. Sin is named but softened. Ransom is quoted but not explained. Sacrifice is invoked but not opened. Life is promised but not defined. Death is central but not interpreted deeply enough. Belief is asked for but not distinguished from assent. Darkness is read but not pressed. Saviour is invoked but not unfolded in relation to wrath, propitiation, satisfaction, regeneration, and union with Christ.

This is how vague terms rob the Word of God of its experiential power. They do not necessarily make the sermon false, but they allow hearers to remain at a safe distance from the realities named. The congregation hears that Christ died, but not with sufficient clarity why such a death was necessary for them. They hear that Christ gives life, but not enough of the death in which they lie. They hear that they must believe, but not enough of what unbelief deserves. They hear of sin, but not enough of guilt, wrath, curse, condemnation, corruption, and bondage. As Ralph Venning, the Puritan said, the sinfulness of sin is lacking here.

Rev Wentworth’s sermon is therefore best described as formally orthodox but experientially underdeveloped. It contains true doctrine, but often in compressed form. It has evangelical vocabulary, but insufficient forensic and regenerative definition. It is reverent, serious, and not without doctrinal substance. Yet the sermon demonstrates that orthodoxy must not merely be named; it must be opened. Biblical words must be made to bear their biblical weight. Sin must be shown as guilt, corruption, bondage, and death. Death must be shown as judgment, curse, and alienation from God. Life must be shown as new birth, union with Christ, reconciliation, resurrection life, and eternal glory. The cross must be shown not only as suffering, but as propitiatory sacrifice, penal substitution, justice satisfied, wrath borne, and sinners redeemed.

Only then does Good Friday preaching do what John 12 itself demands: lift up the crucified Christ before sinners in darkness, warn them before darkness overtakes them, expose the death in which they stand by nature, and summon them to believe in the Light — not as a vague act of religious assent, but as the only hope of those who must be born again if they are to become sons of light.

More articles in "The New Birth in Exile" Series.