This post is the third part of our impromptu series on atonement theory. Check out parts one and two.
by John Thornton Jr.
If I'm reading Ben correctly, what
he's saying is this:
Atonement theology will always be
embedded within certain social formations similar to players on a basketball
team. Each one will play a role and help the team accomplish what it hopes to accomplish.
I assume that when Ben writes
"substitutionary atonement" what he means is "penal
substitutionary atonement." I understand the assumption, but I just wanted
to clarify because I believe that so long as any understanding of the atonement
takes the incarnation seriously, it will always be substitutionary to some
extent. Christ acts for us on our behalf and as us in the incarnation, forming
a type of substitution in our relation to God.
However, the nature of that
relation is the question atonement theory seeks to answer.
A standard penal substitutionary
atonement is rooted in the belief that God created humanity to obey certain
orders or laws within creation. In sinning, humanity disobeys God, violates
those laws, and because God is just, God must punish us as sinners. Christ
recognizes this and, as God, takes the punishment that humanity deserved from
God. Thus, our accounts are sort of evened out in a way, based on a
satisfactory punishment being given out. God's justice has been maintained in
giving Christ the punishment that we deserved.
The resurrection is a bit of an
after thought here and Jesus' actual life matters very little. What really
matters is that we sinned, broke the law, had to be punished by God, so Christ
took our punishment and now we're even.
This theology routinely gets attributed
to Anselm of Canterbury; however, it's a bit of a misreading of his work Cur
Deos Homo. According to Anselm, God created us for perfect obedience. God
gave each creature a "station in life" which it is logical and
reasonable for that creature to remain in. Doing so maintains a sort of
beautifully ordered, functioning universe. In maintaining the order of the
universe by obedience within a station, each creature gives honor to God. God's
honor or glory is what holds the universe together. When we as creatures step
out of our station in disobedience, we steal honor from God and incur a debt so
great that we cannot repay it, but of a nature that God cannot simply forgive
it and remain honorable.
Enter Christ.
Christ comes into our world, in our
place, as a substitution and offers to God the perfect obedience we could not.
When confronted with the God-Man, we could not accept his claims to perfect
obedience and his lack of conformity with our understanding of God. As such,
the God-man was put to death. By offering his perfect obedience even to the
point of death, Christ offers the full obedience humanity owes to God. God's
honor is restored and, because every good gift deserves another, God gives
Jesus the gift of eternal life. Because Christ is God, he passes that eternal
life onto us. Thus we become initiated into a type of gift giving relationship
with Jesus and God, through the Holy Spirit.
What I find helpful about this
understanding is that it moves us away from a God who punishes Christ instead
of us as the only way in which the atonement works or accomplishes our
salvation. To be sure, God does punish humanity, but in this model, it is not
because of a breaking of laws, but a stealing of honor which may sound a bit
weird to us, but has more of a relational dynamic than simply breaking the law.
However, what Christ offers on our behalf is not the acceptance of punishment,
but full obedience.
Christ does substitute for us in this
understanding, but does so by way of offering obedience in a rationally ordered
station of life. Christ becomes the obedient slave that we never could be.
All of this sounds really nice in
theory and, in a way, it kind of is.
But, to use Ben's basketball analogy,
what does it look like "in the game"? What sort of player or life
does this view of the world make, and how does Christ function in it? What kind
of people does this understanding make us into?
[This is not to say that we are the
judge by which atonement functions or falls. Anselm's theology could be
absolutely correct in his understanding of creation, nevertheless, it is
important to think through what it looks like to carry this theology to its
logical end.]
By my reading, there are two small, but very important pieces at work in Anselm that give a glimpse into
what this looks like "on the ground."
At one point, Anselm answers an
objection as to how humans can be told to forgive when God is the only one
capable of forgiveness. His answer is that sometimes God punishes sinners in
this world and is good and right and just when doing so. But (and this is key)
sometimes that punishment is handed over to entities/powers in the world to
carry it out justly. This makes sense in light of some of what Paul writes in
Romans. However, thinking through Anselm's own station in life, and the
church's position in the world at the time, it takes a bit of a darker turn.
The church is standing on the cusp of the crusades. So you're reading this with
a missionary/military effort just about to come online, and thinking "Oh
right, sometimes God hands authority over to earthly powers to punish people
for their sin. And who could do that more justly than the church?"
And remember who it is who deserve punishment
- those who have stepped out of their "proper station in life." Those
who are disobedient to the proper order of the universe. Muslims, Jews,
disobedient slaves within a kingdom. These are the ones who God punishes, and
sometimes hands that punishment over to be meted out by those in the world whom
he chooses.
Two pages later, Anselm says that
when God punishes, he sometimes does so by seizing both people and their
property. He makes no mention that this is done by people in the world acting
on God's behalf, but that's still hanging around, fresh in the reader’s mind.
What does any of this have to do with
Christ?
A good deal actually. This system
requires hierarchy. Honor cannot function amongst equals. There has to be some
inequality at some point or in some way for something to seem more or less
honorable. And what better way to know who to give honor to than by consulting one's
prescribed station in life? Slaves, then, must give honor to their master
through their obedience and if they disobey, they have to give up their
property or personhood to the master.
Jesus Christ, then, in Anselm’s
model, does nothing to upend this system of hierarchy. Jesus is a perfectly
obedient role player on this team. Jesus Christ says nothing to the
slave other than that when they disobey, they dishonor God. To the masters, he
reifies their position of hierarchy and sanctifies the whole stratified
system by being obedient even to the point of death.
To think about it in terminology a
little bit more familiar, Jesus became the perfectly obedient employee, showing
up for work every day right on time, and when his co-workers couldn't accept
the value he added to the company, they got him fired. This Jesus does nothing to upset a system that might abuse employees. Christ, in this
reading, does not confront hierarchies that kill and destroy, or indict them as
being anti-Christ or anti-God, but only sanctifies them by his perfect
obedience to them.
We obviously will not ever arrive at
a stable conclusion of our understanding of the atonement. Christ’s love and
life are too expansive and excessive for us to comprehend. We would do well,
however, to continually question the games we play, and how we seek to wrangle
Christ into them, as well as what rules we use Jesus to validate and what plays we draw
up.
 |
| I couldn't leave him out entirely. |
I was recently at a wedding and
during the Lord’s Prayer, the minister said “forgive us our debts, while we
forgive our debtors.” She was Presbyterian and apparently that’s how they do
it. Meanwhile, the rest of us prayed the word “trespasses” instead of “debts.”
After the service, I talked with a few friends about the difference (this is
what you do when you and a majority of your friends went to a large Baptist
school in Texas and studied religion or philosophy). I made the case for the
reading of “debts” for three reasons.
First, I don’t really know what the hell
a “trespass” is. Is God really that concerned with loitering and private
property? Second, Jesus talks a lot more about money and lenders and collectors
than property owners and trespassers. Third, forgiving debts is a hell of a lot
harder for me to do. I believe that Christ’s divinity is a radical challenge to
everything I presume to be “normal” about being human. For instance, what would
happen to our economy if every person had a credit card with no limit and for
which no one would ever expect a return? People would stop showing up to work.
People would lose their jobs. Our economy would come to an immediate halt.
People would no longer have incentive to work and grow or sell food or water or
any of the other things we might need simply to survive. This is the risk
involved in forgiving debts and is much more challenging to my everyday
existence than whatever “trespasses” might imply.
Again, this is not to say that we are
the standard by which the gospel is judged, but it is to say that when we find ourselves on a “winning” team, when we
find the things we know to be absolute realities (like prison,
and debt, and capitalism, and jobs) to be sanctified and glorified by Jesus’
life, death, and resurrection, we might do well to pause and question what
team we are on, what game we are playing, and what it means to proclaim Jesus as
Lord. If my life (and the debt and prisons and the armies and the death it
takes to sustain it) are not challenged by God’s entering into humanity, then I
should certainly pause to reconsider whether or not I am worshiping the right Jesus, the Jesus of Scripture and the church.
God's entering into humanity is an
affirmation of love and life through and through in a way that does not
necessitate punishment of those who step outside of their station, but rather calls
into question our desire to establish those stations, our need to administer
punishment in the first place.
John
Thornton Jr. is a first year Divinity student at Duke University in
Durham, North Carolina. You can find more of his writings at Clear Words, Full Thoughts. Also, you can follow him on Twitter @johnthorntonjr.
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