Why I Prefer a Gospel of "Solidarity" over that of "Penal Substitution"

Give Tony Jones his due. If for nothing else he does speak his mind and usually hits the mark right on its head.... He is passionate and passionately speaks his mind.... Today's discussion focuses on the deficiencies of the Christian doctrine of "penal substitution". Not a discussion that we haven't spoken of here before, but because of its continued popularity among evangelical churches needs to be reflected upon from time-to-time.

 

Mine own prejudices against PRIMARILY conceiving the atoning work of Christ around this ancient idea provided to us through the Scriptures (and then turned around by the doctrine of Calvinism) is that it has created an attribute out of God's wrath rather than from God's loving mercy. But this cannot be.... Wrath is simply the result of loving mercy's judgment upon the wickedness sin causes and perpetuates. It is not an attribute of God but an action of God. To judge sin is reflective upon God's character of divine holiness and righteousness. Hence, God is a wrathful God when sin's injustice - and sin's crimes of hate - are repeatedly committed and perpetuated. God judges sin because His judgment derives from His intense love for mankind: as beheld in His love for mercy and forgiveness. A repeated theme found in the messages of the OT prophets and again through Jesus and the messages of the early church in NT.

 

Another problem with PRIMARILY conceiving the atoning work of Christ around the idea of penal substitution is that it creates a Gospel message that is intensely individualistic and not collective (me-and-God as versus us-and-God... my pain as versus our collective pain) which is yet another sociological marker of Western civilization's exhibit of Modernity over the countering, global, posture of Post-Modernal, communal responsibility. We become over-focused upon ourselves -  and not on that of others - and thereby speak of Jesus' atonement in personal terms of ourselves to the exclusion of its communal applicability to all men. But when we see Jesus' atonement in terms of all men, then we are better able to see the harm we have done to one another because of our sin. Surely we are forgiven by God's grace, but just as surely we have committed great wrong and undoing in society which must also be undone by our own hands.

 

Tony Jones goes on to observe, that this idea of Christ's sacrifice makes the Son more attractive to us than it does the Father because of Jesus' willingness to takes His Father's wrath upon Himself in place of our condemnation. The "Bully on the Block" seems to be an unappeased, and very angry, God - not the circumspect God of broken heart as willing Lamb who seeks man's salvation by His own personal sacrifice. Too often we confuse Jesus' lifework-and-divine-being apart from His Father's nature and divine attributes. However, we would do better to understand Jesus and His Father as one - and even more so, to see the Father through Jesus, and not through our ideas of what we think we know of God through Scripture ("Ye have seen the Father through me," says Jesus - John 14.7). Hence, we ultimately know God through Jesus, who perfectly pictures the Creator God through His atoning redemption for man's sin. If we do not understand God than turn to Jesus to understand God better.

 

Lastly, Tony importantly notes that God is too-often seen to be held captive to His own divine laws of righteousness, honor, wrath, and expiation (a legal term for sin's absolvement). And yet, God cannot be held captive to any part of His being - nor can His laws be so understood as to be misapplied about His own being. God judges sin not because of His laws but because of its wickedness. The Law simply points out to us its wrongness. To expect harm and folly, grief and strife, pain and pride and prejudice, if sin is given in to. These God would help lead us away from... and not towards. To use our willful freedom responsibly in loving actions toward one another... and not towards self-seeking greed and evil. Sin, in its ultimate definition, is the unloving use of free will. It is not a metaphysical entity but a description of us doing unloving things. Its the misuse and abuse of the freedom that God has placed within mankind's soul. A freedom which learns to love from the God of love as seen by His life of love on this earth in Jesus.

 

R.E. Slater

June 4, 2013

 

 

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Penal Substitution Dies on the Reservation

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/tonyjones/2013/06/01/penal-substitution-dies-on-the-reservation/

 

by Tony Jones

June 1, 2013

Comments

 

I’ve been to Taizé twice, in France. Occasionally, Taizé goes on the road, as it did last weekend, to South Dakota. More specifically, the gathering was on Red Shirt Table, on the Pine Ridge Reservation, just miles from where I lived the summers of 1994, 95, and 96, in Manderson. I would have loved to participate, being that the gathering was a marriage of two of my favorite places in the world. But, alas, Taizé is not for me. It’s specifically for people under 35 — which I’m not — or faith leaders who were leading groups of people under 35 — which I’m also not.

 

Jason Micheli (subscribe to his blog!), however, is. He led a group of folks from his church in Virginia to SoDak last week, and, at my request, he sent this report:

 

Photo by Sydney Foster

 

Over the Memorial Day Weekend a few of us from my congregation joined between 1,000-1,500 pilgrims from around the world at for the Taize Gathering at Red Shirt on the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota.

 

Taize is an ecumenical monastery in Burgundy, France. Every week the brothers of Taize welcome thousands of pilgrims to participate in the rhythms of their communal life, and once a year some of the more than 100 brothers take their ‘community’ somewhere else in the world for a pilgrimage gathering.

 

This year the brothers were invited by the Lakota nation to welcome pilgrims to Red Shirt.

 

Just as pilgrims do at Taize, we spent our time at Pine Ridge in worship (sung chants, sung prayers and a whole lot of silence) 3 times a day.

 

We shared simple meals of buffalo meat straight off the rez, and we shared our faith stories in small groups.

 

We listened to each other; in fact, listening was the primary reason we’d gathered. We camped in tents in a horse pasture and went, uncomplaining, without running water. For those few days at least, we did our best to approximate the simplicity and joy of what the New Testament refers to as the oikos: the ‘economy’ or household of God.

 

Our ‘sanctuary’ was a hollow carved out by the wind in the middle of the badlands. We sat in the prairie grass under the sun and stars.

 

Sunday night’s worship concluded with Taize’s traditional Prayer around the Cross. The cross is an icon of the Crucified Christ with water rushing out from his pierced side. For the prayer around the cross, the icon is taken out of its stand and laid on top of 4 cinder blocks so that it’s about a foot off of the floor and perpendicular to it. As the gathered sing, one by one, pilgrims approach the cross on their knees. Once they make their way to the cross, they place their forehead on the cross and pray.

 

The Prayer around the Cross is powerful to experience.

 

It’s just as powerful to watch so many approach the cross with devotion and seriousness. But it’s even more powerful to notice the patience and hospitality everyone affords one another during the prayer, for it can take a good long while for that many people to crawl to the cross and then pray on it.

 

Before the Prayer around the Cross on Sunday night, Brother Alois, the prior of Taize, invited us to place our burdens upon the cross, the burdens we suffer both personally and collectively ‘because,’ Brother Alois said in his simple yet incisive way, ‘Christ didn’t just suffer in the past. Christ still suffers today with us, with anyone who suffers in the world.’

 

His words hit me with converting clarity.

 

The prairie wind I felt blow across me could very well have been the Holy Spirit.

 

Because not one of us 1K pilgrims missed the clear, straight, connect-the-dots line he’d just drawn from the Crucified Christ to the all-but-crucified Lakota Indians on whose land we prayed.

 

When Brother Alois mentioned ‘collective suffering’ an accompanying illustration or further explanation wasn’t needed.

 

Sitting all around us were Lakota Christians, young and old, whose families had been herded like cattle onto a patch of land aptly named the badlands. Promise after promise made to them and treaty after treaty made with them had been broken- because why do you need to keep your word to cattle? There on the reservation unemployment is over 80% (just think what the average suburban street would be like with unemployment that high). As a result, alcoholism and hopelessness are nearly as high, and I can’t remember the last time I read a news story or heard a politician mention an Indian issue other than the name of a f&^*%$# football team.

 

We prayed that night just a stone’s throw from Wounded Knee, the site of massacre where a mass grave of over 300 innocents slaughtered by the U.S. Army little more than a hundred years ago. Afterwards the soldiers took gleeful pictures next to heaps of bodies of children and their mothers. Wounded Knee remains a festering wound of memory for the Lakota.

 

When Brother Alois mentioned the cross and collective suffering, we all knew what he meant.

 

And in one sense, nothing he said was revelatory or profound.

 

Yet here’s what hit me about what he said and from where he said it: the ‘traditional’ evangelical understanding of the cross, what theologians call ‘penal substitution,’ not only has nothing to say to people like the Lakota, penal substitution speaks no good news to them because it simultaneously privileges people like me.

 

Penal substitution is an understanding of the atonement ideally suited for oppressors and people who benefit from oppressive systems.

 

On the pop level, penal substitution is the understanding of the cross that says ‘Jesus died for you.’

 

For your sin.

 

Jesus died in your place. Jesus died the death you deserve to die as punishment for your sin.

 

Jesus is your substitute.

 

He suffered (suddenly I realize how the past tense is key) the wrath God bears towards you.

 

On the purely theological level, I’ve always had a problem with penal substitution. Quickly: penal substitution seems to make God’s wrath more determinative an attribute than God’s loving mercy. It easily devolves into a hyper individualistic account of the faith (me and God). God the Father comes out, at best, seeming like a petulant prick who bears little to no resemblance to the Son, and, at worse, the Father seems captive to his own ‘laws’ of righteousness, honor, wrath and expiation.

 

Forgiveness, it’s always seemed to me, shouldn’t be so hard.

 

And shouldn’t require someone to die.

 

I’ve always had my theological gripes with that way of understanding the cross, but when I heard Brother Alois introduce the Prayer around the Cross the this-world, moral deficiencies of penal substitution hit me like a slap across the face.

 

Saying Jesus Christ died for you, for your sin, for your sin to be forgiven is good news to… sinners.

 

But what about the sinned against?

 

What we flipply call ‘Amazing Grace’ is good news for wretches like Isaac Newton. For slave-traders and slave-masters. Thanks to the cross, they’re good to go. Their collective guilt and systemic sin…wiped clean by the blood of the cross.

 

Hell, we might as well continue in those sinful systems because what matters to Christ isn’t our collective guilt but our individual hearts.

 

Yet what about those whom the ‘wretches’ made life an exponentially more wretched experience? What about the millions of others whom those wretches, who’ve been found by this amazing grace, treated like chattel?

 

At the Lord’s Supper we proclaim that Christ came to set the captives free, yet we persist in an understanding of the cross that bears zero continuity with that proclamation.  We spiritualize and interiorize gospel categories like ‘suffering’ and ‘oppression’ and ‘deliverance.’

 

Because it suits us.

 

Because we are ourselves are not oppressed, have no actual desire to be delivered from our ways in the world and suffer only the affliction of the comfortable.

 

Penal substitution, I realized upon hearing Brother Alois’ words, makes the mistake of acting as though Jesus of Nazareth is the only one to ever be strung up on a cross of shame and suffering.

 

Sure, every single, last Lakota gathered with us was, on an individual level, a ‘sinner.’ Just as surely to focus so singularly misses the larger issues, for the Indians praying with us at Red Shirt have been sinned against by us actively for centuries and they are now sinned against by our cynical indifference.

 

To suggest the primary meaning of the cross is that Christ died for their oppressors’ sins is to perpetuate, in a very real way, their suffering.

 

If Jesus wept over Jerusalem, I’ll be damned if he doesn’t weep over a place like Pine Ridge. And if he called the Pharisees ‘white-washed tombs’ for turning a blind eye to Rome’s oppressive systems, I wonder what he might call us?

 

On my knees in the hollow that was our sanctuary and hearing Brother Alois’ words as they struck the ears of Indians along with mine, I realized that Christ doesn’t die for us so much as Christ dies as one of us. With us.

 

In solidarity with those who’ve suffered like him at the hands of empire and indifference.

 

Location, location, location. Real estate can make you hear the gospel with different ears — that’s what I realized at Pine Ridge.

 

The cross, I realized at Pine Ridge, is the opposite of good news unless it is today what it was for the first Christians: a symbol of protest, a demand for and a sign of an alternative to the world’s violence, a declaration that Christ not Caesar is Lord.

 

The primary message of the cross for someone like me, then, isn’t that God’s grace has saved a wretch like me though it can include that message.

 

No, the primary message of the cross is that it’s a summons to suffer, as Christ, for those whom the world makes life wretched.

 

Rather than Jesus being the answer, the solution to our selfishly construed problem, Pine Ridge has left me believing that the Cross is meant to afflict us with the right nightmares.

 

 

 

Learning to Listen to God and to Unmask Ourselves

Just Sit There

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/peterenns/2011/12/just-sit-there/

by Pete Enns

posted December 14, 2011

If you’ve ever tried to be still, just still, you know how hard this is.

We long for noise, distractions–anything to spare us from admitting to ourselves that things are not as they should be: TV, books, music, other people, complaining, that non-stop, self-serving, chatterbox we call our “thoughts.”

Why is it so hard to be alone? Perhaps because we feel awkward in unfamiliar company.

“Isn’t it true of human beings that no matter what we may do, the best of what we name ‘me’ seems to elude our understanding? Why is it that no matter what I do, and even at times do well, I am never satisfied? Why, when I am honest with myself, do I discover that I am always on a hunt, not even particularly knowing what I am hunting for” (Listen to the Desert, 3).

Just sit there. Without distractions. If you are feeling brave, even (try to) tell your mind to take a chill pill for 10 minutes. Just sit there. Alone.

It takes courage to move into unfamiliar territory.

“It is no small act of courage to face squarely the fictions of your life and the troubling sense that something isn’t quite right about our life. Scapegoating, excuses, self-pity, are common disguises that shield us from deep-seated doubt. These fictions, these acceptable deceptions, are the way we distract ourselves from the nagging suspicion that at the bottom of what I call ‘me’ is something terribly disturbing” (LTTD, 5).

Isolation was a habit the desert fathers and mothers cultivated. They would sit in their cells, alone. They knew there was a valuable lesson to be learned there–alone with only themselves, without the distractions of the games we play with others and ourselves.

Alone, in your cell–whether actual or metaphorical–is where you learn what you need to know about who you are…who you really are. No gimmicks.

Sitting in their cell was no cowardly removal from the bad old nasty world. They were not shrinking from the world. They were brave enough to face themselves, and knew that the demands of daily life worked non-stop to keep them in a dream-existence of their own making.

Neither is this narcissistic self-absorption. That is what happens when we look inward a few millimeters, allowing our false selves to remain unchecked. Leave that to Oprah and Dr. Phil. God will not guide you there.

What the desert dwellers were after was a clear, unburdened, honest view into themselves. And this takes guts.

Do not many of us lack the courage to look into ourselves and name what we see for what it is? Would we not rather look at others and name their shortcomings?

How many truly know themselves with brutal, God-like, honesty?

Learning to be alone a little more can be a beginning to seeing past the masks we wear, not only to posture for others, but for ourselves–because we do not want to see what is there.

And so much of our private and public posturing happens in church.

Maybe God calls us inward from time to time. At the end of the day–both literally and metaphorical of death–our true selves cannot be propped up by others or our false selves.

“If we accustomedly flee our loneliness and the lessons it has to teach us, hiding behind the excitement around us and in social company, then we will greet [this] advice with a goodly portion of dread. If, on the other hand, we are weary of the shallow trivialities of the social order and afflicted by the inane discourse of most human communication, then you will likely feel relief at the advice….Whichever way we react, we do not enter the cell alone” (LTTD,

[This post is based on chapter one of Listen to the Desert, Gregory Mayers: "Your Cell Will Teach You."]

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MY OBSERVATIONS

As in all of life one needs a balance. Some of us are too busy to take the advice given here but should. Some of us are too lonely having already lived solitary lives for too many days that actually need the company of men and women to talk to and to listen. Life needs a balance and only you can judge this fact. Busy people talk all the time about their need for times of quiet meditation but never seem to find the courage to do this. Lonely people have already found themselves in the ever present silence of their meditation that daily urges their need for community that never seems to come their way. Some have been unmasked by God from early on. While others have refused God's unmasking. We each know the truth of our needs and the actions that we must take. Somehow. Somewhere. Sometime.

Moreover, inasmuch as we tend to lie to ourselves (1 John 1.8), and would lie to God about ourselves (1 John 1.10), it is good practice to seek both inward truth as much as to test that truth in the company of others. The masks that we wear can be disturbingly unclear if left to our own judgments based upon personal shame and guilt. Sometimes it takes the company of people to help us hold up a truer version of ourselves than what we would allow our very selves to wear. At other times it takes separation from the ones that love us (or from those who may not love us in their toxic selves) to allow us to reflect on God's version or direction for us.

The disconcerting truth is, we are made in God's image. That image is both personal and requires fellowship. God is not alone. He exists in the company of a fellowship. A Tri-une fellowship of three, as Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Each reflects the other as much as the other reflects the Three. This reflection holds an image of each in the eye of the Other. They understand themselves through the other's input. But they also hold a true version of Themselves within their own image. It is a refined reflection of Who they are in Themselves as much as in their own Fellowship. They are inseparable. They are forever bonded together in infinite community, personal sharing and unselfish reflection.

And without getting too ontological here concerning the infinite mysteries of the Godhead it must be said that our own image  - the one that God created of Himself in us - is first and foremost found in God Himself... and that image is never alone. It exists in the company of a Divine Fellowship. And while it is good advice to seek God in the aloneness of time and activity, it is also very good practice to listen to God through the fellowship of true men and women who have removed their false masks of self. Who know how to love others. Who are not toxic to the idea of God's plan in our lives.

For the sociology of man's self-discovery requires the input of others. We better understand ourselves through our actions and judgments in the community of men and women whom God has placed into our lives - be they believer or unbeliever. We test out our theories of ourselves, our judgments of ourselves, in the company of others, to determine whether we have been able to lay down those false versions of ourselves for a better version of God acting through us. It requires that God de-construct, or unconstruct, our guilts and our shame, and reconstruct our truer personhood and image of Himself through us. It is both a solitary task and a community task. And it is best helped along with others having experienced similar journeys of self-reflection and death.

I say death because the Christian journey is one that requires our old selves to die, to be placed away from ourselves. The selfish wants and needs. The unkind acts of unlove. The unceasing tongue that continually harms and injures those around us. The old man of sin must die. It has to die if Christ is to live in us. For the Spirit of God requires the key to every room of our lives. First to the door of our hearts. Then to the doors of the main room. Then to all the little separate rooms and chests and cupboards that we have locked away from His repair and renovation. The old must be burned up. Consumed by the Spirit of God. It must fully die if we are to fully live as new men and women in Christ Jesus our Savior and Lord.

To do this we must both draw away and draw back - to draw away from the old communities of friends and family to find ourselves in God. And to allow God to draw us back into new communities of friends and family to re-apply the discovery of our newly re-constructed selves. To test its validity and discover whether true or not. To test the spirits as it were - whether of man or of God. Whether this truth we have found is God's truth or simply another lie that we have told ourselves and have allowed to lead us again through the false gospel of lies and deceits applied to us by false teachers and would-be shepherds. Be they people, books, TV programs, or some kind of church or fellowship. Each-and-all must be tested to find if they are truely sent from God for we are easily misled. For some of us this may require several renditions or trials of exploration until we find ourselves in God. Stay strong during this time. Do not give up. Seek good advice and in time your efforts will be rewarded.

Lastly, we each have been created with a personality that does not change with time. This is the real us that we need to find. To discover. But our character can and will change over time. Those character defects that we have imbibed early on to survive or to exist can and must change and adapt. Liars can become truth tellers. Gossips can become silent and learn to hold their thoughts and their tongues. Trouble makers can cease from troubling the affairs of others and seek restitution in the lives of those they would destroy. We can change before God's grace with God's help.

For our characters must change if His grace is real. They must be un-defected. Or, per-fected in God if His image will truly take hold of our lives. For there is no variableness in God's character. He is light and in Him darkness does not dwell. We are to be light bearers no longer submitted to darkness as unthinking, unfeeling creatures or brute beasts. We bear God's image. It is an image of light. It requires the work of the Spirit to which we must give every key. Submit every urge. Yield every thought. Bow to every willful act. It is God's task to unmask us. And that He will do. It may hurt. But it will never destroy.

R.E. Slater

December 27, 2011

Renewing God's World: The Redemptive Renewal of Creation

Structure and Direction: A Better Paradigm for Cultural Engagement
http://vanguardchurch.blogspot.com/2011/09/structure-and-direction-better-paradigm.html

by Bob Robinson

September 16, 2011

There is a superior way to deal with culture rather than the pietistic path of arbitrarily deciding what in the culture is bad and then shunning those things.

Albert Wolters suggests that if we think in terms of the biblical storyline of “Creation, Fall, Redemption,” we will have a better paradigm by which to engage culture. “Creation” is the way things were originally created, “very good” in God’s eyes. It is the “structure” that God originally intended, not just for the primordial creation, but also the latent potential embedded in the creation from the beginning which enables humanity to create new technologies and art.

“Fall” and “Redemption” are then the two opposing “directions” that humanity is now engaged in exercising upon this God-ordained structure. Thus, if we think in the paradigm of “Structure and Direction” we will be called not just to shun the things of the Fall, but rather to actively engage in changing the trajectory of those things toward Redemption. In Creation Regained: Biblical Basics for a Reformational Worldview, Albert Wolters writes,

“This twin emphasis makes a radical difference in the way Christian believers approach reality. Because they believe that creational structure underlies all of reality, they seek and find evidence of lawful constancy in the flux of experience, and of invariant principles amidst a variety of historical events and institutions. Because they confess that a spiritual direction underlies their experience, they see abnormality where others see normality, and possibilities of renewal where others see inevitable distortion. In every situation, they explicitly look for and recognize the presence of creational structure, distinguishing this sharply from the human abuse to which it is subject.” (pp. 88-89)

This paradigm then moves the Christian toward redemptive action. It is not enough to identify that which is good, true and beautiful as opposed to that which is evil, lies and distortion. It is the Christian vocation to intentionally turn that which is in the latter categories toward God’s good intentions.

In Matthew 13:33, Jesus says, “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed into about sixty pounds of flour until it worked all through the dough.”

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Wolters writes,

“We learn for this that the gospel is a leavening influence in human life wherever it is lived, and influence that slowly but steadily brings change from within. The gospel affects government in a specifically political manner, art in a peculiarly aesthetic manner, scholarship in a uniquely theoretical manner, and churches in a distinctly ecclesiological manner. It makes possible renewal of each creational area from within, not without…

Everything in principle can be sanctified and internally renewed—our personal life, our societal relationships, our cultural activities…

What was formed in creation has been historically deformed by sin and must be reformed in Christ.” (p. 90. 91)

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A “Missional” attitude for artists and for those who patronize the arts, then, is to be actively reformational: Intentionally seeking to be change agents, changing the direction of God’s good creational structure away from the depravity of the Fall and toward the re-creation of all things in Christ.


 

Which Hermeneutic Do We Choose? Christological or Trinitarian?

Christological Exegesis [for Trinitarians]

http://www.jrdkirk.com/2011/08/22/christological-exegesis-for-trinitarians/

by J.R. Daniel Kirk

posted August 22, 2011

At the Colloquium on Theological Interpretation this weekend, the issue arose as to whether hermeneutics that strives to be Christian hermeneutics should be Christological or Trinitarian–or whether saying one means you’re doing both.

I argue for Christological rather than Trinitarian. And no, they are not the same thing. Though Trinitarian exegesis will have some Christ in it, and Christological exegesis might lead you to say Trinitarian things about God, in practice they are two different ways of reading the Bible.

The primary reason I attempt to read with and develop a Christological hermeneutic is that the story of Jesus is the hermeneutical grid for reading scripture that the NT writers articulate when they tell us what the scriptures are about.

Whether it’s Luke saying that the suffering, resurrection, and exaltation are what scripture is all about (ch. 24) or John’s Jesus telling the Jewish crowds that the scriptures in which they think they have life testify about him (John 5) or Paul’s declaration that the crucified and risen Christ who is Lord over all including Gentiles (Rom 1) or 1 Peter’s claim that the prophets spoke of the Messiah’s coming suffering and glory–the NT’s Bible-reading hermeneutic is to see that the scriptures tell the story of the suffering and exalted Messiah.

In other words, to read the Bible Christianly is to read it as a story of the crucified and risen Messiah–to read it as an indication of what God is going to finally do within the story to save and deliver God’s people.

The challenge with Trinitarian readings is that they read to insert into the story the Triune identity of God. This means both that:

(1) the Bible becomes less about the story unfolding on its pages than the God who is “out there,” and that,

(2) the person in whom the story is finding its resolution [(Jesus)] is less importantly Israel’s Messiah and more importantly God incarnate.

While the narrative of the suffering servant tells us a great deal about Israel’s God, it does so through the story of the crucified and risen Messiah. In fact, I would argue that we know what we are saying about God is true because when God is read aright God, too, is interpreted through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.

That is to say, we do not read the story of Jesus through our prior understanding of God, but we understand God through the revealed story of the saving work of Christ.

A good theology will understand God’s identity as tied to and shaped by the Christ event. Mike Gorman can say that Paul discovers that God himself is cruciform: the interpretive key is the story of Jesus.

     
About J. R. Daniel Kirk: Professor at Fuller Seminary, resident of San Francisco, consumer of dark chocolate, brewer of dark beer, reader of Flannery O'Connor, watcher of the Coen Brothers, listener of The Mountain Goats.

What does the Christian term Atonement Mean?

This article addresses what Christ's atonement is, but not its extent (whether unlimited or limited). That idea has been dealt with in other areas of this blog. Please refer to articles on Calvinism and Arminianism to understand discussions related to the "extent of Christ's atonement" upon humanity.

- skinhead

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Did I kill Jesus? Part three of a series on atonement

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/rogereolson/2011/08/did-i-kill-jesus-part-three-of-a-series-on-atonement/

by Roger Olson

on August 21, 2011

Returning to my discussion of good books about atonement.

Now I turn to what I consider one of the best recent books on atonement: Scot McKnight’s, A Community Called Atonement.

I suggest to anyone reading this book that they turn first to Chapter Eighteen: Atonement as Missional Praxis: Living the Story of the Word. It might have been good for Scot to put some of this chapter’s material first because it lays his cards on the table with regard to theological methodology and especially the role of the Bible in Christian theory and practice. I could not agree with Scot more about the TENDENCY of many conservative Christians to put the Bible first–even before God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit–in their hierarchy of loyalties. Scot labels many conservative Christians (I think he is talking mainly to and about evangelicals) “Cognitive Behaviorists” who think that knowing more about the Bible automatically makes them better Christians.

Scot views the Bible as the communication of an overarching narrative about God. (I would add with Hans Frei that the Bible’s main purpose is to identify God for us–meaning God’s character.) “Scripture is more than information revealed for our knowledge so that, in knowing more, we will be more.” (145) In brief, Scot’s point is that our loyalty as Christians is to God as revealed in Jesus and to the Holy Spirit dwelling in us and in the church and the Bible is the God-ordained and inspired instrument of strengthening that loyalty and our praxis growing out of it.

Let me add something here that I think is consistent with what Scot says and MAY make his point even clearer. (I don’t know that Scot would agree, but I think he probably would.) Too many conservative evangelicals view the Bible as a NOT-YET-SYSTEMATIZED SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY such that once the correct doctrinal system is drawn out of it and correctly organized and expressed (e.g., in a massive one volume systematic theology seen on the shelves of every Christian bookstore in America!) the Bible is dispensable.

Scot’s point (I think) is that God’s self-revelation (including Scripture) is for the purpose of relationship-community. This happens through the medium of story: “Jesus’ story is to become our story as we identify with him and we are incorporated into him.” (147) The purpose of Scripture, then is “identity-shaping” (146) more than information-giving.

So what about atonement? A major point of the book is expressed on page 147: “Central to my understanding of atonement is the notion of identification for incorporation.” Throughout the book the overarching theme is that “atonement” is not just about what Christ accomplished on the cross but about the entire process of restoring to wholeness we “cracked Eikons” of God through being incorporated into God’s community. Scot rightly points out that the English word “atonement” literally means “at-one-ment”–reconcilation or restored relationship.

(He doesn’t mention this, but my study of the word leads me to believe it was invented by Tyndale for his English translation of the Bible. (Side bar: I remember years ago reading The Kingdom of the Cults by Walter Martin. There Martin took Mary Baker Eddy and Christian Science to task for defining “atonement” as “at-one-ment” as if that was her invention and heretical interpretation of the word. While I agreed with Martin that the CS interpretation, being monistic, is heretical, I now chuckle when I think about how wrong Martin was about the origins and meaning of the term!)

So, for Scot, “atonement” is an umbrella term for salvation (although he never says it quite that way) and his view of salvation is holistic. It includes not just forensic justification or personal conversion. For him salvation, atonement, is incorporation into Christ so that our brokenness is healed and we are restored to what we are meant to be–whole persons in community with God and others through Jesus Christ. Thus, Jesus’ atoning work includes incarnation, temptation and victory over it (Scot loves Irenaeus as do I), death, resurrection, outpouring of the Holy Spirit on the church at Pentecost and the Spirit’s inclusion of us into the church, the continuation of God’s people.

One of my favorite quotes from this book is on page 132: “A thoroughly biblical understanding of atonement, then, is earthy: It is about restored relations with God and with self, but also with others and with the world–in the here and now.” Consistent with that, Scot ends his book with a call for Christians to do justice in the world as part of their participation in the mission of God. I can’t resist offering here another great quote from the book: “God’s redemptive intent is to restore and rehabilitate humans in their relationship with God, self, others, and the world, and when that happens justice is present and established. The followers of Jesus both proclaim and embody atoning justice by fighting injustice and establishing just that kind of justice. Their forward guard is surrounded with the banner of grace and forgiveness.” (133)

But what about the classical atonement theories? Which one does Scot finally embrace? He embraces them all: Christus victor, recapitulation, moral influence, satisfaction/penal substitution, etc. All of these, he argues, are metaphors for something ultimately mysterious–God’s work through Jesus Christ on our behalf for restoring relationship.

In order to understand Scot’s meaning here, and its significance for his account of Christ’s atonement, you have to pay close attention to Chapter Five: Atonement as Metaphor: Metaphor and Mechanics.” On pages 38-39 Scot lays out a view of theology consistent with (if not influenced by) 19th century American theologian Horace Bushnell. Bushnell famously argued, much to the chagrin of his critics mired in Protestant scholasticism (Turretin and all that) that all theological language is metaphorical. But he also argued that ALL HUMAN LANGUAGE is metaphorical. Many conservative evangelicals will balk at Scot’s agreement with Bushnell (whether Scot meant to agree with Bushnell or not, I don’t know): “…we are bound to our metaphors. This is where a moderate postmodern theology or a robust critical realist theology will simply fall down and admit that, to one degree or another, theology is metaphorical. We cannot unpack the metaphors to find the core, reified truth in a proposition that can be stated for all time in a particular formula. We have the metaphors and they will lead us there, but they are what we have. Yes, what we have is metaphors, but the Christian claim is that metaphors do work: they get us there.” [sic, all human interaction (including language, conscience, mental thoughts and visualizations, sociological/psysiological/psychological relationships, etc) is symbolic - and therefore metaphorical - because human beings are primarily and essentially visual beings. - skinhead]

(Again, let me say in a sidebar that these programmatic moves by Scot make him one of my postconservative evangelicals whether he likes that label or not. I won’t apply the label to him if he doesn’t want it, but I will say his overall approach to theology, the Bible, doctrine, theological language, cautious openness to revision, etc., is typical of what I mean by “postconservative evangelicalism.”)

Back to Scot’s reflections on the theories of the atonement. They are all metaphorical; none matches exactly what God has done for us in Jesus and continues to do for us and in us through the Holy Spirit. They all find roots and justification in Scripture and tradition. Each has its place and value.

Scot uses his own metaphor of a bag of golf clubs to make his point. A good golfer uses all the clubs in his bag and not just one. Similarly, the church needs all the biblical metaphors and historical theories of the atonement and not just one. BUT, all the metaphors and theories come UNDER the umbrella of the wider, more holistic metaphor of reconciliation and restoration of cracked Eikons (us).

So let’s get right to it: what about penal substitution? That seems to be the ONLY atonement theory that is controversial right now. Fortunately, Scot does not simply discard it as some tend to do. But his critique is that TOO MANY of its advocates have treated it mechanically rather than relationally. He rightly says “This theory of penal substitution has come in for hard times in current theological discussion, much of the hard times being gross caricature and political posturing.” (40) Let’s stop there and dwell on that for a moment. (Another sidebar coming….)

I’ve already commented in this series of posts about the gross caricatures of the penal substitution theory–depicted as “divine child abuse” and so forth. But what does Scot mean by “political posturing?” He doesn’t explain and the context isn’t very helpful. The only ideology he mentions is radical feminism and he decries SOME feminists’ caricaturing of penal substitution as divine child abuse that justifies abuse of children and women. But he also mentions some very conservative evangelical theologians who treat penal substitution as if it were THE ONE AND ONLY legitimate theory (and not really a theory at all!) of atonement. I THINK Scot means that SOME people on both ends of the spectrum of critics are using their rhetoric against or for penal substitution to score points with their constituents and do harm to others within their theological contexts.

(For example (I’m departing somewhat from Scot here, but I think he might agree) SOME conservative evangelical critics of Recovering the Scandal of the Cross (by Mark Baker and Joel Green) have simply flown off the handle with their criticisms and have depicted the book as cavalierly tossing aside penal substitution in favor of, say, Abelard’s moral example or moral influence theory. (Read: Baker and Green are liberals!) SOME of the accusations aimed at the book and its authors sound more like diatribes meant to marginalize the authors (and positive reviewers) within the evangelical movement than like careful, scholarly examinations of the books argument.)

Back to Scot and his book. Let me quote Scot about critics of penal substitution here. “…it is irresponsible for critics to depict penal substitution as ‘divine child abuse’ because all it takes is love-of-neighbor readings of major theologians–and I will mention here Leon Morris, John Stott, and J. I. Packer–and one will readily discover that for each of them penal substitution is contextualized into a Trinitarian context wherein it is not the Father being ‘ticked off’ at humans and venting his rage on the Son. Instead, atonement for penal substitutionists is prompted by the loving grace of the Father.” (41) And, I would add, ” of the Son.”

Lest anyone get defensive, Scot adds “But advocates of penal substitution should listen to their critics.” (41) “…I am persuaded,” he says, “that penal substitution theorists could help us all out if they would baptize their theory into the larger redemptive grace of God more adequately.” (43) So how does Scot himself do this?

Scot’s actual treatment of the theory comes on page 113 of the book–wrapped into a larger and more holistic treatment of atonement metaphors. And he attempts to shift the focus from the “mechanics” of substitutionary atonement to Christ’s mysterious identification with us in his death that plays ONE ROLE (not every role) in reconciliation and restored community. Here is how Scot expresses it: “He [Jesus] identifies with us, all the way down into death (so, Phil. 2:5-11), so that we can be incorporated into him and find life–both here and now and then and there.” (113)

Scot argues that the Bible “often” teaches that Jesus suffered death “on our part.” (113) And he means, instead of us. That is, “Jesus identified with us so far ‘all the way down’ that he died our death, so that we, being incorporated into him, might partake in his glorious, life-giving resurrection to new life. He died instead of us (substitution); he died a death that was the consequence of sin (penal).” (113) But completely missing from Scot’s account of penal substitution is any thought of God the Father having to have his pound of flesh and taking out his vengeful wrath on Jesus instead of on us.

Here is how I interpret Scot’s “take” on penal substitution. In order express it I have to talk briefly about another theory of atonement–the “ransom theory” that was so popular among fourth century Christians including the Cappadocian fathers. It as, in fact, the reigning theory up until Anselm. The ransom theory picked up on the biblical metaphor of ransom–that Christ was the ransom paid by God to free us from sin, death and the devil. But some early church fathers and most people throughout the middle ages INTERPRETED this to mean that God the Father gave his Son Jesus over to Satan as a ransom in a transaction that included Satan handing over humanity to the Father. Of course, nowhere does the Bible say that! And it makes God crafty and deceptive (because he knew the devil did not know that he could not keep the Son of God). It portrays the atonement as a transaction between God and Satan and depicts them as almost on the same level–as if God has to enter into a bargaining agreement with Satan.

I THINK what Scot is suggesting is that too many explanations of the penal substitution theory of the atonement pick up on substitutionary imagery and metaphor in the Bible and run with it too far–implying (if not saying) that Christ’s death was a kind of mechanical transaction between God and humanity (with Christ representing humanity) involving strict, juridical justice and a kind of impersonal law that even God has to obey. Scot apparently wants to keep the biblical metaphor of substitutionary death without all the baggage the whole penal substitution theory has accumulated throughout the years especially among Reformed fundamentalists. I applaud the effort and largely agree with him about this. Penal substitution is a biblical image I cannot escape. The correlation between Isaiah 53 and numerous New Testament passages that seem to echo this, applying it to Jesus and his death, convince me that, biblically, we cannot escape penal substitution as one metaphor for what Jesus’ death was.

A Community Called Atonement is much more than what I have described here. Overall, the book is a ringing call for Christians to BE THE CHURCH that God intended his people to be–a reconciling, restoring, healing, justice-establishing community that extends Christ’s holistic saving work into the world.

1 One mild criticism I have of the book is that it stretches the word “atonement” almost to the breaking point. Scot uses it for everything God does and we enter into with him that works to restore the damaged goods (cracked Eikons) that we humans are. Most people understand “atonement” much more narrowly–as having to do with Christ’s death and its salvific effects. I’m always a little leery of stretching terms to mean too much.

2 Another mild criticism I have is that nowhere does Scot (like Boersma) deal with the crucial issue of the extent of the atonement. Is Christ’s atoning work FOR ALL or only for the elect. In this day and age when so many voices are being raised on behalf of limited atonement I hope ANY book on the subject will deal with that horrendous, nearly heretical idea that one cannot find even in Calvin himself! Theodore Beza invented it out of whole cloth because it was logically necessary for the Calvinist system. I agree it is necessary for the Calvinist system, but take it away and the system falls. Beza saw that which is why he added it in. (Please don’t remind me that an obscure monk named Gottschalk was held in prison most of his adult life for teaching limited atonement; I know that. But he had no influence in terms of injecting that idea into the stream of theology. Beza is its source if we are talking about a continuity of doctrine beginning today and stemming backwards in time.)

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Index to past articles on "Calvinism v. Arminianism"

 

 




 

The Atoning Work of the King of Kings

http://www.patheos.com/community/jesuscreed/2011/04/07/kings-cross-9/#more-15459

King’s Cross 9
by Timothy Keller

Book Review by Scot McKnight
April 7, 2011

ShareTim Keller’s newest book, King’s Cross: The Story of the World in the Life of Jesus, examines big questions through the Gospel of Mark, and he knows that “The Turn” in Mark’s narrative happens when Jesus is confessed as Messiah — King — and Jesus reveals that, yes, he is King but as King he will die on the cross. That is “The Turn” and that is also the secret to life.

The text is well-known, but perhaps we’ve forgotten. Jesus asks who people are saying he is. They bumble along with a few names and Jesus then asks more abruptly — who do you think I am? Peter says “King.” (He says “Messiah” but Messiah means the anointed king.) Then Jesus says it is necessary for him to go to the cross and be raised.

Atonement theology/theory can be confusing today, in part because some think substitutionary atonement is wrong-headed and in part because others think Jesus dying as an example or dying as an act of service for others are actually all the death of Jesus really means. Both sides of this debate are in need of re-examining how Jesus (Mark 10:45) and the apostles (say Romans 3:21-26) talk about the death of Jesus as atoning. How do you explain the centrality of Jesus’ death in the Christian message?

The astounding connection of Jesus, the newness of which Keller may exaggerate just a bit, is that Jesus connects King to suffering. Here are his words: “Never before this moment had anyone in Israel connected suffering with the Messiah” (96). Yes, Jesus is King/Messiah, but he came to die. And it is part of the divine plan: hence, it is necessary.

Why? Keller points to three reasons why Jesus had to die:

1. Personal necessity: here Keller dips into William Vanstone (a new name to me) and shows that humans need unconditional love, being loved for who they are, and all humans know is a bit of that but their love is more mercenary (good term I think). We love and get something from it; Jesus loves and needs nothing from that extension of love.

2. A Legal necessity: debt’s can be paid back but justice is not established; justice can only be established through forgiveness. The debt is absorbed. [This section is a bit short and there's more he could have said but didn't have space for it.]

3. A Cosmic necessity: here he’s talking about the demonstrative power of the cross. The section seems to be a mixture of a Grotius and Girard, but I’m not sure. “The cross reveals the systems of the world to be corrupt, serving power and oppression instead of justice and truth” (102). But it also demonstrates the character of God and of the kingdom. He won through losing.

Finally, the text in Mark 8 goes on to show that if we want to be connected to Jesus, we have to die on the cross with him so we can reign through him.