Anselm Gets in the Game: Atonement Theory, Part Three

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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Derek Fisher and Atonement Theory: Part Deux

by Ben Howard

Yesterday, I wrote a post about Derek Fisher and substitutionary atonement. To be honest, the real impetus for the post came from the feelings of latent hostility that I hold towards Derek Fisher for his role in the Oklahoma City Thunder's loss the night before. Since I also have latent hostility towards substitutionary atonement (nerd hate!), I thought the two would be a nice pairing.

However, in the comments yesterday my brilliant friend Lane Severson pointed out that while my post had done away with this particular brand of atonement theory, I had left nothing in it's place.

As I pondered the implications of that comment, and tried to articulate my own views on atonement theory (I assume this is what all the cool kids do, right?), a new analogy came to mind with a familiar character at the center.

That's right! It's time for Derek Fisher and Atonement Theory Part 2! When you get the chance to simultaneously discuss a relatively obscure basketball player and nerd out on some theoretical theology, you just can't let that opportunity pass you by.

It seems that replacing substitutionary atonement is almost as difficult as it is to replace Derek Fisher. Come with me as a tell you the story of a magical land called Los Angeles in the mid-2000's.

Derek Fisher was drafted by the Los Angeles Lakers in 1996. Over the next eight years, Fisher would be the starting point guard of a team that would win three NBA championships. Fisher wasn't the best player, in fact he wasn't anywhere close to the best player. He was a role player who did his job adequately and quietly.

In 2004, Fisher became a free agent and Los Angeles decided that they no longer needed Fisher and his adequate, but not outstanding play. He left to go play for another team and the Lakers replaced him with...well, they didn't really replace him at all. Over the next three years, the Lakers started the likes of Chucky Atkins, Sasha Vujacic, Jordan Farmar and Smush Parker as their point guard. It's unlikely you've heard of them, and if you have, I'm so very sorry.

Eventually the Lakers discovered that the best replacement for Derek Fisher was Derek Fisher and they resigned him for the 2007 season. The Lakers won two more titles with Derek Fisher being his adequate self on the court every night. And then the Lakers decided to move on and they replaced him with...Steve Blake and the Artist Formerly Known As Steve Nash. That hasn't gone particularly well either.

My point is that while Fisher wasn't a star, and by many accounts wasn't even that good during much of his time as the Lakers point guard, he was the right player for that role. He filled the role effectively and helped his team to function properly. Each time the Lakers decided to move on they found that Fisher was surprisingly difficult to replace.

In A Community Called Atonement, Scot McKnight points out that all of the different atonement theories are useful when they are placed in the correct context. Like Fisher, atonement theory, whether substitutionary atonement, Christus Victor, or any other, is a role player that helps to make the team better.

Perhaps I was too quick to dismiss substitutionary atonement yesterday because it doesn't fill that role for me or for my community. However, just because it isn't the right role player for my team doesn't mean that it can't play a role on someone else's.

There is no Kobe Bryant of atonement theory. There is no superstar atonement theory which answers every question succinctly and drives the theological thinking of everything surrounding it. Maybe that's where my hostility towards substitutionary atonement really comes from. It's not that the theory isn't useful, it's that it's being asked to do too much.

It would be like asking Derek Fisher to be Kobe Bryant. It's impossible and will ultimately wilt under the pressure of being asked for more than it can give.

I may not have a succinct answer to how God saves us, or what precisely the crucifixion or resurrection mean, because that answer can shift on a daily basis. Today it may mean that Jesus died for my sins, and tomorrow it may mean that he was resurrected for my future. Next week it may mean neither, or maybe it will mean both.

We'll just have to find a theory to fit the role. Like Derek Fisher.

Peace,
Ben

Ben Howard is an accidental iconoclast and generally curious individual living in Nashville, Tennessee. He is also the editor-in-chief of On Pop Theology and an avid fan of waving at strangers for no reason. You can follow him on Twitter @BenHoward87. 

 

You can follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology.

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Screaming Obscenities: How Derek Fisher is Like Substitutionary Atonement

by Ben Howard

I spent most of last evening screaming obscenities at a middle-aged man for doing an unimportant thing poorly.

That's a pretty average night for me during the NBA Playoffs.

The middle-aged man in question is Oklahoma City Thunder point guard/old guy Derek Fisher and the unimportant thing he was doing poorly was "play basketball." In my defense, he is paid handsomely to do just that, so we're both kind of in the wrong here.

Let me try and provide a little context. I went to school in Oklahoma and subsequently became a fan of the Oklahoma City Thunder. Currently, the Thunder are playing the Memphis Grizzlies in the second round of the playoffs. The Thunder were one of the best teams all season until one of their best players hurt his knee a few weeks back.

Enter Derek Fisher.

It's important to note that Derek Fisher was not always bad at playing basketball. No, once upon a time he was actually quite good. While he was never a superstar, Fisher was the starting point guard of the Los Angeles Lakers when they won five championships from 2000 to 2010. He was never great, but he was a solid role player and hit the occasional big three pointer. Good things.

Unfortunately, Derek Fisher is now 38 years old. While in the real world this would be considered the cusp of "middle-aged," in basketball terms it's over the hill and then some.

So why, you might ask, is Derek Fisher playing so much if he's no longer good at basketball?

Ah, this is the important question. Derek Fisher is playing because he has experience, he has been tested and he has done good things before. Of course, none of these things mean he will play well now or in the future, but they are comforting traits.

As I sat there last night, dejected, hurling insults at an aging basketball player who had never done me any personal ill, I realized something important. Derek Fisher is like substitutionary atonement.

Now you probably weren't expecting that. You may very well be wondering how an over-the-hill point guard is at all similar to the theology that Jesus had to die in order for our sins to be erased and God's wrath to be satisfied. It's a valid question.

Derek Fisher is like substitutionary atonement because, while he may have served his purpose in another place at another time, he is outdated and incapable of responding to the needs of this time and this place. In fact, Derek Fisher is like a lot of outdated theories and theologies. Derek Fisher is also like creationism, and he's like supersessionism (the belief that the New Covenant replaces and supersedes the Mosaic covenant).

As time passes and society evolves, so must our theology; our interpretation of what is true and how the world works. This is not to say that traditional theologies or views are necessarily "bad" or "useless"; many traditional theologies continue to hold strong, but some, like those mentioned above, have served the purpose of their times and need to be discarded so that God can continue to work and speak in the world today.

This is not a dismissal of these theologies for the good they may have done in the past, just a realization that they are no longer responding to the questions that formed them. Like Derek Fisher, they are hurting and no longer helping.

It's difficult to move away from experience and tradition, especially when the next easy answer is not readily available. It's hard to move on from a known quantity out into the vast unknown, but sometimes it's useful and sometimes it's vitally necessary.

Derek Fisher isn't as bad as he was last night, but he'll never be as consistently good as he once was, and soon that good side will be more memory than reality. Substitutionary atonement, or creationism, or whatever outdated theology comes to mind were probably useful in their times. Some of them may still be useful on occasion today, but they are not consistently useful, they are not consistently good, and soon the good they did will be a memory drowned out by the pain they cause when used improperly.

I know it's a weird analogy, but sometimes we have to let go of tradition and abandon the things that worked in the past in order to truly embrace the best of our future.

Peace,
Ben

Ben Howard is an accidental iconoclast and generally curious individual living in Nashville, Tennessee. He is also the editor-in-chief of On Pop Theology and an avid fan of waving at strangers for no reason. You can follow him on Twitter @BenHoward87. 

 

You can follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology.

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