The "Folly" of the Cross

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“The word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (1 Corinthians 1:18).

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ!

The word folly refers to a lack of good sense, judgment, or wisdom. It describes actions, ideas, or beliefs that are considered foolish, unwise, or absurd—often because they go against common sense or accepted wisdom. Folly can also mean a costly or foolish undertaking that is unlikely to succeed.

But “accepted wisdom” is not always wise. What is considered folly is not always unwise. History is full of so-called follies that only looked foolish until the day they bore fruit. For instance:

When Robert Fulton put a steam engine on a boat in 1807, people laughed and called it Fulton’s Folly. Many observers mocked the project beforehand, convinced that a steam engine could never reliably or safely propel a boat upstream against the current.

When William H. Seward negotiated the United States’ purchase of Alaska for $7.2 million in 1867, newspapers mocked him for wasting money on ice and snow. Alaska’s remote location and harsh climate made it seem useless and ungovernable. The nation was still recovering from the Civil War, and critics argued that the money should be spent at home. Thus, the press dubbed the deal Sewards’ Folly.

When engineers stretched steel cables across the East River to build the Brooklyn Bridge, critics said it was unsafe and would collapse under its own weight. They called the project Roebling’s Folly.

In each case, the assessment came quickly: “This will never work.”

But time told a different story. The boats chugged up and down the rivers and canals, accelerating commerce and western expansion. The bridge stood. It became an engineering icon and lifeline of New York City. Alaska became a treasure, with vast reserves of oil, natural gas, timber, minerals, and fisheries. Alaska served as a critical military asset during World War II and the Cold War. What looked foolish in the moment proved wise eventually.

The pattern should sound familiar—because it sits at the very heart of our faith. The cross looks like folly, too. A crucified Messiah does not look like salvation. It looks like defeat. Weakness. Failure. Paul says it plainly: “The word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing” (1 Corinthians 1:18a).

The wisdom of the world is not the glorious treasure the Greeks believed it to be. They were “perishing” in their wisdom. They were so sure they knew what God was like and how to deal with Him. They were so confident that they had the answers to the problems of sin and guilt that they automatically rejected what God had to say about their salvation. To them, in their wisdom, salvation through the cross of Christ was the silliest thing they had ever heard. And they were perishing because they thought the cross of Christ was foolishness.

Paul goes on to quote Isaiah 29:14, which foretells this failure and defeat of human wisdom. “It is written, ‘I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the discernment of the discerning I will thwart.’” Things haven’t changed since Isaiah wrote. God still frustrates human wisdom. The greatest of scholars today will never find God or understand Him if he depends on his own intellect or learning. God has decreed that it be so.

If the Corinthians were to look about them, they would see that for themselves. The Holy Spirit had led them to understand that they had been saved through the cross of Christ. Had the learned Jewish scribes or the Greek debaters discovered that? No! Those brilliant people had proved to be fools because they, with all their wisdom, rejected the only way of salvation there is: Jesus of Nazareth dying on the cross for our sins.

God’s way to salvation has nothing to do with human wisdom. “It pleased God through the folly of what we preach to save those who believe” (1 Corinthians 1:21). How much clearer could it be? Man does not know enough to save himself. He is incapable of saving himself. In His grace, God comes to save us through the Word of Christ crucified for a world of sinners.

Sadly, people by nature demand something else from God than what He offers them. “Show us a sign,” the Jews demanded of Jesus, “then we’ll believe that You are the promised Messiah.” Jesus gave them signs. He healed the sick; He opened the eyes of the blind; He raised the dead; He preached the Gospel to the poor. But they wanted a different kind of sign because they wanted Him to be a different kind of Messiah, the liberator of their nation from the hated Romans, rather than the Savior from sin, death, and the devil. Today, people look for Christ to end wars, to eliminate poverty, to banish suffering, to assure civil rights. They forget that Jesus never made any such promises—not for this life, in this fallen world. In fact, He foretold that such problems would plague the world until the end of time. “In the world, you will have trouble,” He warned.

The Jews were familiar with miracles in their history, but the religious history of the Greeks did not feature miracles. They wanted a religion that challenged their intelligence. They wanted philosophy, not a story about a crucified Jew who made great claims about saving the world. In their opinion, religion should be something scholarly and learned, something to reason out. Such people scorned the Gospel of a crucified Christ.

This Gospel was “a stumbling block to Jews.” They were scandalized by a religion that declared that a man executed as a criminal was their God. They were insulted when they were told that they, God’s chosen people, were guilty of crucifying the Son of God.

The cross was “folly to Gentiles.” The Greeks laughed at the idea that God’s Son became a human being. They ridiculed the thought that belief in the cross could save people. They considered the claim that Jesus was the only true God and Savior a piece of foolishness.

But what is folly to one is wisdom to another. In the congregation at Corinth, there were both Jews and Greeks who discovered that the Gospel they once had rejected as an offense or dismissed as folly was in reality the power of God and the wisdom of God. What an amazing turnabout! Only the Holy Spirit, who calls men, women, and children to faith, can accomplish that miracle.

In God’s kingdom, things are topsy-turvy. What man considers foolish, God proves is wisdom; what man considers weak, God proves is strong. The Jews saw the cross as proof of weakness, but God made the cross the world’s most powerful instrument for good. The Greeks saw the Gospel as proof of absurdity, but God made that Gospel the greatest truth the mind of man can receive.

This reversal of expectations—where God’s wisdom is hidden beneath what appears foolish or weak—does not just shape the story of the cross; it shapes the very heart of Christian confession. The message of Christ crucified continues to challenge human reason and cultural norms, inviting believers to trust in promises that often run counter to worldly logic. For this reason, we are not afraid to embrace teachings that may seem foolish to others, knowing that true wisdom is found not in human approval but in God’s revealed Word.

Confessional Lutherans are comfortable admitting that much of what we confess sounds foolish—because Scripture itself says it will. Here are a few key doctrines that are often dismissed as naïve, irrational, or outdated, either by the world or by other Christians, along with why we continue to hold to them anyway.

1.     Justification by Grace Alone Through Faith Alone

           The world assumes people must earn worth or fix themselves. Many Christians assume salvation must include measurable moral improvement. We confess that God justifies the ungodly—not the improved. Faith does not cooperate in justification; it only receives God’s gifts.

Why does it matter? Because if salvation depends even a little on us, we’d never be sure. But God’s grace is certain. Faith is His Holy Spirit’s work in us through His holy Word.

2.     The Means of Grace (Word and Sacrament) Actually Do Something

The world says it sounds foolish. Water can’t forgive sins. Words can’t create faith. Bread and wine can’t deliver Christ. These are superstitions, symbols at most, they say.

We confess that God attaches His Word of promise to physical means. The Word does what it says (Isaiah 55:11). Baptism regenerates. Absolution forgives. The Supper delivers Christ’s body and blood for the forgiveness of our sins. Throughout history, God has chosen to work through ordinary things: a burning bush, a pillar of cloud by day and pillar of fire at night, the written and spoken Word through the prophets and apostles.

Why does it matter? This keeps sinners from fruitlessly searching for Him inside themselves.

3.     Baptismal Regeneration (including infants)

Some will say it sounds foolish. Babies can’t decide for themselves. Faith is assumed to be an intellectual choice.

We confess that faith is God’s gift, not human decision. Baptism saves because God acts there (1 Peter 3:21).

Why does it matter? If faith depends on human ability, the weakest are excluded. We are all sinners from conception who need God’s grace and forgiveness. God has provided that in Holy Baptism.

4.     The Real Presence in the Lord’s Supper

To some, it sounds foolish. “That’s not rational.” Jesus is in heaven; He can’t be here at the same time.” “The finite cannot hold the infinite.” “It’s just symbolic.” We confess Jesus says, “This is My body … This is My blood.” Christ gives His body and blood for the forgiveness of sins, whether we can explain it or not. Why does it matter? The Lord’s Supper is not our act of remembrance of something that happened 2,000 years ago. It is Christ’s act of giving us His grace now. It is He offering to us, here and now, the very body and blood that was crucified for the forgiveness of our sins.

Brothers and sisters in Christ, this is the wonder and the scandal of the Gospel: God’s ways are not our ways. The world chases after strength, achievement, and what can be measured and explained. But God, in His wisdom, gives us a Savior who was crucified—who looked weak, who looked defeated, who looked like folly to the eyes of the world. And yet, in that very weakness, God’s power is revealed. In what seems foolish, God’s wisdom is made known.

This is why we confess what we do, even when it sounds strange or unreasonable to others. We proclaim that sinners are justified by grace alone, not by their own progress. We believe that God uses ordinary water, bread, and wine to deliver extraordinary gifts—forgiveness, life, and salvation. We trust that the word of forgiveness spoken in Christ’s name is not just a wish, but a reality.

Why? Because our hope does not rest on our wisdom, our feelings, or our understanding. It rests on Christ alone—crucified, risen, and present for us. The cross may still look like weakness. Grace may still seem too easy. Faith may still appear passive. But this “foolish” Gospel is the very power of God for salvation. What the world dismisses, God delights to use. What looks weak is strong. What looks like folly is, in fact, the wisdom of God for you and for all who believe.

So let the world call it folly. We know it is the wisdom and power of God. Our hope rests not on our understanding, but on Christ alone—crucified, risen, ascended, and present for us. Thanks be to God. Amen.