"And he died for us all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again" (2 Cor 5:15)
Jesus died to save us from self-centredness to Jesus-centredness.
Probably not new to you, but struck me afresh yesterday.
"The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of men" ([Rom] 1.18). When we ask how that wrath comes to expression, we have a threefold expression that God's wrath is God's abandonment. "Therefore God gave them over (paredoken) to the sinful desires of their hearts" (v.24), "God gave them over (paredoken) to shameful lusts" (v.26), "He gave them over (paredoken) to a depraved mind" (v.28). It is no coincidence that it is this key verb paradidomi (=to abandon, to give up), which is used again in Romans 8.32, He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up (paredoken) for us all" etc... In order to do anything for those who because of sin have been given up to sin's destructive power, and lethal consequences (Romans 6.23a), the Son of God had to identify himself with them, by himself being treated as one who is abandoned and given up by God.
(p. 116, Thomas Smail, The Forgotten Father)
I never get tired of that. The punishment that belonged to us, fell on him!
While I'm here, a few thoughts on the idea often taught from Romans 1 that the wrath of God being God passively stepping back and giving us what we want:
In Christus Victor, Gustaf Aulén summarises his strange but seminal account of the three atonement 'theories' as follows:
He has come under much criticism for the accuracy of his historical theology. I am also thoroughly confused by what he was trying to say in some parts (e.g. on incarnation) and think he is almost wilfully blind to what a proponent of the Latin view would say in response to some of his points.
Interesting reading though, particularly because exponents of Christus Victor don't seem to see its strengths to be the same as those Aulén gets most excited about.
There is a penalty and curse for sin; and Christ consented to enter that region. Christ entered voluntarily into the pain and horror which is sin’s penalty from God. Christ, by the deep intimacy of His sympathy with men, entered deeply into the blight and judgment which was entailed by man’s sin, and which must be entailed by man’s sin if God is a holy and therefore a judging God... To say that Christ was punished by God who was always well pleased with Him is an outrageous thing. Calvin himself repudiates the idea. But we may say that Christ did, at the depth of that great act of self–identification with us when He became man, He did enter the sphere of sin’s penalty and the horror of sin’s curse
(PT Forsyth, The Work of Christ)
This is a famous quotation from Forsyth. I think it is a little too neat, but I think the concept of Christ entering the region or sphere of God's judgement is a helpful one. In the first place that region is Israel, in the second place humanity, and in the third place all of fallen creation.
Mike Bird explains how he sees Penal Substitution and Christus Victor as interconnected:
CV and PSA go together because Jesus is only Christus Victor because he is also Agnus Dei. PSA deprives the Satan of his key weapon: accusation against the saints!....Romans 8 and 1 Corinthians 15 both start off with the sacrificial nature of Jesus' death, but then climax in affirmations of divine victory! PSA is the basis for CV, but CV is then the goal of PSA.
He explains that of the two he thinks that CV is more "comprehensive". I think I prefer when he says it is the "goal", in the same way that the Resurrection is the climax of the one work that included the Crucifixion.
A lot of Evangelicals have a problem with the atonement theory they see displayed in the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by CS Lewis. They are uncomfortable that it seems to suggest that:
But I think that CS Lewis does not say anything wrong, but he leaves the door open to problems coming in.
The Witch appeals to the "Deep Magic" for her claim on Edmund's life. She also says "the Law" demands it. For Lewis the "Deep Magic" seems to be another name for "the Law" in Christian theology. It is built into the fabric of the universe, but it is not an independent god which both the Witch and the Aslan have to obey. It was put in place by the "Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea" (God the Father), and it belongs to him. The Stone Table represents this Deep Magic. It has the words of it written on it, just as the words of the Law were written on stone tablets delivered to Moses.
Any claim that the Witch has against Edmund is derived from the Deep Magic, and more fundamentally from the Emperor who gave it. Aslan says that the offence committed by Edmund was not an offence against the Witch, and so she does not have a natural right to claim Edmund's life. As the Beaver observes, she is "the Emperor's hangman" and it is he who gives the Witch her right. It is ultimately not either the Witch or the Deep Magic which has a claim on Edmund's life, it is the Emperor. The devil in Christian theology is in the same position. He is called Satan ('the accuser') because his power is only in bringing the Law of God to bear on people's lives. As the early chapter's of Job show clearly, he is God's servant and not a truly rival power.
Aslan would not go against the law given by the Emperor who is his father, but his authority does not derive from it like the Witch's does. He subjects himself to the Deep Magic voluntarily, even though it clearly only applies to traitors. In this sense Aslan and the Witch are not two equals under the Deep Magic. Aslan lowers himself to the Witch's level, but that is not where he belongs. It is only as Aslan identifies with Edmund that the Witch can demand anything from him. The parallels with Christ are obvious.
When Christ died on the cross in the place of us, the Law was nailed to the cross (Col 2:14). The Law has been torn down and we no longer will we be put to death by it. Similarly, the Stone Table cracks when Aslan is brought back from the dead.
That's all good stuff, but I think Lewis leaves the door open for problems in several ways:
Those are my thoughts. Do you have any others?
These are the only relevant passages in the book:
"You have a traitor there, Aslan," said the Witch...
"Well," said Aslan. "His offence was not against you."
"Have you forgotten the Deep Magic?" asked the Witch.
"Let us say I have forgotten it," answered Aslan gravely. "Tell us of this Deep Magic."
"Tell you?" said the Witch, her voice growing suddenly shriller. "Tell you what is written on that very Table of Stone which stands beside us? Tell you what is written in letters deep as a spear is long on the fire-stones on the Secret Hill? Tell you what is engraved on the scepter of the Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea? You at least know the magic which the Emperor put into Narnia at the very beginning. You know that every traitor belongs to me as my lawful prey and that for every treachery I have a right to kill."
"Oh," said Mr. Beaver. "So that's how you came to imagine yourself a queen - because you were the Emperor's hangman. I see."
"Peace, Beaver," said Aslan, with a very low growl.
"And so," continued the Witch, "that human creature is mine. His life is forfeit to me. His blood is my property."
"Come and take it then," said the Bull with the man's head in a great bellowing voice.
"Fool," said the Witch with a savage smile that was almost a snarl, "Do you really think your master can rob me of my rights by mere force? He knows the Deep Magic better than that. He know that unless I have blood as the Law says all Narnia will be overturned and perish in fire and water."
"It is very true," said Aslan, "I do not deny it."
"Oh, Aslan!" whispered Susan in the Lion's ear, "can't we – I mean, you won't, will you? Can't we do something about the Deep Magic? Isn't there something you can work against it?"
"Work against the Emperor's magic?" said Aslan, turning to her with something like a frown on his face. And nobody ever made that suggestion to him again.
(pp. 128-129)
"though the witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge only goes back to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and the darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor's stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backwards."
(p. 148)
Here are a whole load of quotes from James Denney's The Christian Doctrine of Reconciliation in which he attacks an understanding of the incarnation which gives the sinful state of our humanity a back seat.
When I hear about the incarnation it is often described as primarily a metaphysical or epistemological event. Consequently salvation is then seen as similarly metaphysical or epistemological. In contrast the Bible sees it primarily as a act of reconciliation to deal with our moral alienation from God.
-------------------------------
"It is not too much to say that the metaphysical incarnation which was the vital centre of Athanasius' thought - his sacramental union of the divine and the human in the incarnate Word - had dulled his sense of an ethical union and communion of man with God, and of the powers by which such a union and communion can be impaired and destroyed, or perfected. [footnote: "It is significant that he only mentions the forgiveness of sins once, and then only in connection with Christ's work as seeking and saving the lost during his life on earth (14.2)] The same holds of Greek theology generally, and of the type of piety akin to it. It is too much out of relation to the world in which moral creatures, conscious of their estrangement from God, and needing and longing for reconciliation to Him, live and move and have their being." (pp.42-43)
"Christ had no reason for coming into the world but to save sinners. This is the true experimental and Biblical ground on which to stand. Attractive as it may appear to speculative minds, the idea that Christ would have come apart from this redemptive purpose - to complete creation, or give humanity a Head - departs from the line of religious and especially of Christian interest. It finds the motive of the incarnation in some speculative or metaphysical fitness, and not where Scripture and experience put it, in love." (p. 59)
"God became man because only thus could sin be dealt with for man's salvation, and God's end in the creation of man secured. In other words, the rationale of the incarnation is in the atonement. It is through the atonement that the incarnation is seen to be rationally necessary and therefore credible." (p. 65)
"He must be man that He may be entitled to act for the sinful race, and He must be God that He may be able to offer to God the immeasurable satisfaction which shall be equal to the necessities of the case. Hence the need for the incarnation or the God-man. It is the necessity of making satisfaction for sin, in order that men who have sinned may nevertheless attain the destiny of blessedness in eternal life with God, which explains the one dogma of the Christian faith - namely, the incarnation. As it has already been expressed, the rationale of the incarnation lies in the atonement. Were it not for the atonement, no one could say that the incarnation had any necessity in it which appealed to reason." (p.71)
"Nothing is commoner, for instance, than for those who conceive the incarnation as the taking up of human nature into union with the divine, to say that the incarnation is itself the atonement; in the person of the God-man humanity as such is reconciled to God. To the writer such expressions are as good as meaningless, and neither for the evangelist nor the theologian can he see that they have any value. But looking at the actual life and death of Jesus as the proper definition of the term incarnation - the sum of reality apart from which incarnation is an empty sound - he would have no difficulty in saying that the incarnation and the atonement, or the incarnation and the work of reconciling man to God, were all one. The traditional dogmatic conception of the incarnation, with which the idea of an incarnation independent of sin, and designed to consummate creation, is usually connected, does not lift us into a region of eternal or ideal truth; it does not enlighten our minds in the knowledge of Christ; it only lifts us out of the region of historical and moral reality. We have the practical interest of Christianity as well as the broad sense of the New Testament with us when we stand by the view that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners." (pp. 183-184)
"The only incarnation of which the New Testament knows anything is the appearance of Christ in the race and lot of sinful men, and His endurance in it to the end. Apart from sharing our experience, that sharing of our nature, which is sometimes supposed to be what is meant by incarnation, is a abstraction and a figment. But everything in that sharing our experience is essential." (p.242)
I've been listening to Oliver Crisp lecture on the atonement today as I go about my daily business. He identifies several theories of the atonement:
I could say a lot about theories of the atonement but won't bore you with them at the moment. But as I was listening to all the complexities of the theories as Oliver Crisp described them I remembered this comment of TF Torrance that I heard some time ago but which I keep coming back to. I think it makes a very important point:
We have to bring together and sink into each other the concepts of representation and substitution in order to grasp the vicarious mission and role of Jesus in his humanity.
If we were to work with representation alone, where Christ represents us and therefore represents what we do, that would be a Pelagian or a semi-Pelagian understanding of the atonement. And by-and-large that is often put forward.
If we were to have a stress on substitution alone, in which Christ takes our place detached from us, then that would be something that he did over our head and that had no relevance to us.
But if we combine these two, as you should combine, and as they are certainly already combined for example in the Isaianic songs about the Servant, then we have an act of substitution which takes place in the depths of our humanity where our humanity is taken up and therefore the atonement is made to issue out of our humanity as humanity's offering toward God. And then of course it is fundamentally relevant to each and all of us in the depths of our own humanity.
(23:35-24:55 "Christ's Mediation/Human Response", Lecture 3 of The Mediation of Christ)
[BTW The Crisp lectures are some hard-core metaphysics that I've only read in the likes of Anselm and Augustine. I suppose it has been my first taste of modern philosophical theology. I am left with a lot of admiration for the brains of those involved but a feeling that it is of limited helpfulness. Also BTW my breakdown of what he said about the different theories may not be quite right as I did it from memory (Interestingly, Theopedia has a slightly different taxonomy of Atonement theories which is quite helpful).]
James Torrance (last quote from him I promise - but thanks Glen for the recommendation) sums up a strength and (possible) weakness that I've read in much modern systematic theology (which I have just started reading in the last year):
The God-humanward and human-Godward relationship (movement), both freely given to us in Jesus Christ. When we considered the existential model of worship, we noticed that the God-humanward movement of grace is given to us in Christ. In virtue of it, we are summoned to respond in faith, in decision, in repentance and obedience [isn't this common?]. But the weakness here is that the only human-Godward movement is ours. In other words, it does not do full justice to the meaning of grace, for it short-circuits the vicarious humanity of Christ. Grace does not only mean that in the coming of Jesus Christ, God gives himself in holy love to humanity. It also means the coming of God as man, to do for us as a man what we cannot do for ourselves - to present us in himself through the eternal Spirit to the Father. In other words, the human-Godward movement, in which we are given to participate (as in worship and communion), is given freely and unconditionally.
(p. 53, James B Torrance, Worship, Community and the Triune God of Grace)
There is something important and true in this, and it has connections with Lutheranism's 'universal justification'. But I would like someone to tie this perspective into conversion, regeneration, and the work of the Holy Spirit in believers. In short I feel the wonderfully objective and past nature of our salvation has blossomed, but the subjective and present nature of it has been left undeveloped and the two have not grown together (c.f. Colin Gunton's comments).
I am left wanting balance. Sadly, Pia Desideria while historically interesting does not show how it can be achieved.
If you fancy reading my first attempt at an essay on theology for a long time you can read below. Please feel free to blow monster size holes in it, but bare in mind that I am far from trying to say everything about the Atonement (if you even could). It is about 3500 words and came out of this conversation so is the result of an already busy week's reflection.
1. Introductionit is difficult for our minds to think of Divine things without using human analogies, but these analogies are often very dangerous [...] It must be admitted that "conservative" preachers and writers, in their desire to make the doctrine clear, have sometimes used human analogies in an indefensible manner, and have thereby unintentionally given real ground for objection (p. 146, Why the Cross?)
There are several ways in which what is happening at the cross differs from that
of the modern human law court. The primary difference may be that where we
can only imagine distinct parties, at the cross beside the criminal 'there is
only One, Who is Judge, Wronged Party, King (or Law), and Substitute' (p.147,ibid), and even the distinction between Substitute and criminal is not
absolute as we shall see.
The other assumption underlying the objection is that we know what justice
is. In this essay I will focus on the bible's understanding of justice and
explore how according to this the punishment of our sins in Jesus is just.
2. Who's justice?
There are as many understandings of what is 'just' as their are individuals on
the planet. Some people consider it just that a thief has his hand chopped
off, where as many others cannot think of anything more unjust. More at
home are debates about the justice of penalties for speeding and illegal
downloads. One person's justice is another's injustice.
However, despite the arguments of some, this has not led most people to conclude
that there is no such thing as justice, or that it is totally unknowable.
In the midst of this confusion attempts have been made to describe a theory of
justice which can form a basis for objective decisions about what is just and
what is not. Sometimes such theorists have thought justice is something
'out there' waiting to be discovered, while others have been happy to
consider that it is a human creation.
If justice is a human creation then, like the gods in Terry Pratchett's novel
Small Gods, different forms of justice grow or shrink in power according
to the number of believers they enjoy. But as the atheist Terry Practchett
demonstrated for religion in his novel, this understanding of justice can make
no demands and is open to ridicule. But even if justice is 'out there' the
problems that have been found with every theory of justice show that while we
may come more or less close to discovering justice no-one has ever found it.
In contrast to our theories which may be more or less just, or our practice of
justice which is also imperfect, God is presented in the Bible as the one who
'does no wrong' (Deuteronomy 32:4) and in whom is 'no injustice or partiality or
bribery' (2 Chronicles 19:7). All of our justice is tainted by self
interest and inadequately protects the powerless, but God's justice is
characterised by total fairness. He 'does not show favouritism' (Romans
2:11) and defends the cause of the fatherless, widow and foreigner (the least
powerful in Ancient societies; Deuteronomy 10:17-18).
But God is not perfectly just because he obeys a standard that is 'out there'
apart from him. The Bible recognises that this would mean there is a god
whom God chooses to obey. God would no longer be the 'Alpha and Omega'
(Greek A-Z; Revelation 1:8) but would be a second power, and a secondary source
of all good things. In short he would no longer be God. For this
reason Solomon asks God for his justice (Psalm 72:1) because justice
belongs to God, and has no existence apart from him. Because
justice is found in God 'we must let God's character and actions define our
vision of justice rather than letting our vision of justice define our
expectations of God' (p. 11, David McIlroy, A Biblical View of Law and
Justice).
Philosophically this makes sense, but is it morally acceptable? Describing
justice as defined by God seems a bit like Richard Nixon's comment in his
interview with David Frost that the President can on occasion do something
illegal because 'when the president does it that means that it is not illegal',
by definition. That comment disgusted the world because it was recognised
that the President is under the law as much as any other citizen. Justice
is not flexible to the whims of the most powerful. Might is not
right. Clearly, there is an important difference between Richard Nixon and
God in that Richard Nixon is only human, and according to our belief that all
human beings are equal one has no ability to define justice which binds
everyone. But another difference is hinted at by the writers of the Psalms
constant pleas to God to remember his justice and act according to it.
Just like their pleas for him to act according to his love and promises these
pleas recognise that God is consistent and does not change in his dealings with
us. We can trust him because he is the same yesterday, today and forever
(Hebrews 13:8). Unlike Richard Nixon does not mould justice as it suits,
but acts justly always because he only acts according to his own unchanging
nature. In one sense he is bound to act justly, but only because he
is bound to act in accordance with his own nature.
In the first chapters of Genesis we are told how Adam and Eve ate of the tree of
'knowledge of good and evil' (that is in biblical terminology the ability
administer justice). They grasped at the ability to judge things for
themselves, rather than trusting God's judgment. We still like to do the
same thing but should recognise that our taking judgment upon our own shoulders
has brought injustice to the world. We should let God take the place of
judgment and not judge him. This is an act of faith that God is just, but
he unlike anyone else has proved himself by the consistency of his
actions.
Having said that we cannot pull God down from his proper place as the source of
justice, the question can still be asked how it is that it was that Jesus could
be killed for sins he did not commit. We can still seek to understand how
God can be consistently just when he punishes Jesus in our place, and yet states
that: 'he who justifies the wicked and he who condemns the righteous are both
alike an abomination to the Lord' (Proverbs 17:15); and that 'no man can ransom
another' (Psalm 49:7).
We can begin to understand this by looking at what we have already briefly
considered: our inability to be perfect judges.
2. Reaching for the moon: Human justice
Human justice is different to God's justice both in the abstract, and in
practice.
Human beings find it impossible to fully grasp justice in the abstract. We
are unable to say describe exactly why something is just or not. Nevertheless, we are able to say true things about justice. Similarly, we
cannot perfectly practice justice, not simply because we are sinfully
self-interested, but also because we are finite creatures. Nevertheless,
we can still administer true justice to a degree.
An important reason we cannot administer perfect justice is because we cannot
know everything. Even if we can perfectly know the external events that occurred
we cannot judge perfectly.
We recognise that in most cases a criminal must not only do something against
the law but must also have mens rea (a guilty mind). However, we
are unable to even perfectly understand our own minds, never mind anyone
else's. In contrast God can search our heart and know the full extent and
nature of everyone's guilt (Jeremiah 17:10; Revelation 2:23).
We also recognise that we are not isolated individuals and responsibility can be
shared. In English law conspirators can be punished to the same extent as
those who do the actual act of committing a crime, and incitement can provide a
defence to assault. Judges may be lenient to individuals who have had a
life which makes their crime more 'understandable'. But really we are
extremely limited. A complex web of experiences, choices and influences
may have brought an individual to the dock. A slightly neglectful parent,
an exam result, or the time in which you were born are all factors which lead to
you doing this or that then. In addition, while the same criminal act may
lead to different outcomes, even ultimately good. There is always both
corporate as well as individual responsibility which makes human justice so
limited in its affect.
'There is no such thing as the absolutely individual man with whose acts [...] All men are members of a society in which they live and move and have their being morally, and in all they do, of right or wrong they both affect and are affected by the body to which they belong. This has to be kept in mind and leads to two apparently contrary inferences. On the one hand, the scope of the sinner's responsibility is immensely enlarged. He does not sin, any more than he lives, to himself. His act tells not only on himself and on God, but on the society of which he is a member. [This] means that reconciliation [and justice] will be a greater work than might at first have been anticipated - more far-reaching and more difficult. It must embrace in its scope not only the individual [...] but the society to which he belongs, and in which that bad action has originated unmeasured evils which he never contemplated [...] On the other hand, the consideration of man's essentially social nature has sometimes seemed to extenuate his personal guilt.' (p. 191-192, James Denney, The Christian Doctrine of Reconciliation)
Recognising the human limitations our practice justice should be
different to God's practice of justice. They should be aligned but we
should recognise that God's judgments will always be different to ours, and must
be to be just. For this reason God forbade Israel from judging
corporately:
'Fathers shall not be put to death because of their children, nor shall children be put to death because of their fathers. Each one shall be put to death for his own sin.' (Deuteronomy 24:16)
We may see this commandment as self-evident but while it was unique it 'is set
against a tendency in the biblical world to impugn whole families for the
offences of a member of them' (p.363, JG McConville, Deuteronomy).
Indeed 'even Roman law, as codified by a Christian Emperor, permitted the
destruction of the family and close associates of a man found guilty of treason
against the state' (p. 35, GE Anscombe, 'Prophecy and Miracles' in Faith in a
Hard Ground: Essays on Religion, Philosophy and Ethics). But God's
prohibition on corporate punishment by the state, does not prevent God from
saying in the same book that:
'I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing steadfast love to thousands of those who love me and keep my commandments.' (Deuteronomy 5:9-10)If God's justice is different to ours does that mean that we have to give up reaching any understanding of how God could be just in punishing Jesus? I think that while we can only ever understand it imperfectly we can make some steps towards understanding it, and those steps involve grasping more of how corporate identity works, when in our modern Western culture has minimised it.
While always holding individauls responsible for their actions, God also
regularly acts on the basis of corporate identity.
'For example, in Joshua 7, thirty-six Israelite soldiers lose their lives in battle on account of the Achan, and his family members are then executed with him. In 2 Samuel 21:1-14, seven of Saul's sons are executed for their father's sin [...] Similarly, there are many examples where people receive blessings from God because of the righteousness of others, such as the sparing of Mephibosheth because of the oath between David and Jonathan (2 Sam. 21:7; cf. 1 Sam 18:3; 20:8, 17, 42; 23:18) and the reprieve granted to all Isarel because of the humility and righteousness of King Josiah (2 Kgs 22:9-20).' (p. 246-247, Steve Jeffery et al, Pierced For Our Transgressions)We are familiar with the idea of corporate identity even if corporate responsibility seems is largely ignored. If we describe ourselves we usually do so in relation to other people. I may have many identities such as that of a British citizen, a socialist, a Manchester United supporter, or someone who dresses like middle-class white male. Some of these I consciously choose to make part of my identity, some I drift into, and some I am born into. I share in the glories and shame of those identities. I glory in the win of my favourite team and am ashamed of the crimes of my country. Similarly I can give a good name to members of my family, or reduce employers expectations of all Bristol University graduates.
Some identities may be central to my existence, and some I hold to
loosely. But my identity is not solely dependant on me as an
individual. Some socialists may refuse to recognise me as someone like
them, but some may. I may choose to identify myself as a citizen of Iran,
but if the Iranian government don't acknowledge me as such my identity may be
damaged; but then it may not if they refuse to acknowledge me because I oppose
the present regime. The complexity of human relationships require an
infinite god to untangle them.
The Bible considers it just that Jesus should die the death that is deserved by
us because God sees us as sharing a corporate identity. Similarly it is
just that we should receive eternal life that belongs to Jesus alone because of
that identity. Jesus talks of us as part of his kingdom and his family
(Matthew 12:49-50), the apostle Paul talks of how we are the 'body of Christ'
(Ephesians 4:12), the apostle Peter calls the church a nation and people
belonging to Christ (1 Peter 2:9), and John says the church is married to Christ
(Revelation 21:2). All these are corporate descriptions of our union with
Christ. To the early church every good thing that the church enjoys is
enjoyed only because we are 'in Christ', that is in united to him. 'In
Christ' we have eternal life (Romans 6:23), freedom (Romans 8:2), holiness (1
Corinthians 1:2), wisdom (1 Corinthians 4:10), victory (2 Corinthians 2:14), and
a favourable verdict from God (Galatians 2:17).
Martin Luther describes how we share what belongs to Christ, as we are united in
one identity with him:
'[faith] unites the soul with Christ as a bride is united with her bridegroom. By this mystery, as the Apostle teaches, Christ and the soul become one flesh [Eph. 5:31-32]. And if they are one flesh and there is between them a true marriage indeed the most perfect of all marriages, since human marriages are but poor examples of this one true marriage - it follows that everything they have they hold in common, the good as well as the evil [...] Christ is full of grace, life and salvation. The soul is full of sins, death, and damnation. Now let faith come between them and sins, death, and damnation will be Christ's, while grace, life, and salvation will be the soul's; for if Christ is a bridegroom, he must take upon himself the things which are his bride's and bestow upon her the things that are his [...] By the wedding ring of faith he shares in the sins, death, and pains of hell which are his bride's. As a matter of fact, he makes them his own and acts as if they were his own and as if he himself had sinned' (pp. 18-20, On Christian Liberty)
Martin Luther mentions that we are united with Christ by faith. That is by
believing that he came and identified with us, and identifying with him we share
his identity and so his life and favourable verdict from God.
Many of the onlookers to Jesus' death did not want to identify with him. He seemed of little account, and was suffering the punishment of death. None of us like to think that we deserve death, and that the place of punishment is where we belong, but if we do then we can identify with the man suffering punishment for sins. Wonderfully though that means we can also identify with him as he is raised to new life. Our unification is not just intellectual or emotional though. Like marriage, citizenship, and so many other identities it is also expressed in ritual. So the Apostles called on people to believe, 'repent and be baptised...in the name of Jesus Christ' (Acts 2:38), that is into his identity. As Paul says we are baptised into his body (1 Corinthians 12:13); into his death and so into his resurrection (Romans 6:3).
We have no right to claim an identity with the Son of God if he does not will
it, nor if the judge rules it invalid (the Father judges sin in Jesus, and Jesus
will judge the world). Just as I cannot claim the citizenship of France
just because I believe it I belong there, I cannot claim my citizenship in
heaven with Christ unless he wills it (Philippians 3:20). Thankfully, we
know that the Father, Son and Holy Spirit all desire for us to identify with
Christ and share in his riches. The Father who called the universe into
existence out of nothing, calls us into unity with his son (1 Corinthians 1:9)
whom he sent (John 8:42). The Son 'made himself nothing, taking the form
of a servant, being born in the likeness of men' (Philippians 2:17). The
Holy Spirit takes up residence in us, so we are united with Christ (1 John
4:13).
Christ identified with us long before we identified with him, and in fact it is because of this loving act that we then love him (1 John 4:19). We are told that we were included in Christ before the foundation of the world by the will of the Father (Ephesians 1:4). The Father happily sent his Son to the world to be our representative before him (1 John 4:14). Jesus happily and without coercion identified with us by becoming human and sharing our flesh (John 1:14) and shared our suffering and death (Hebrews 2). Just as we were baptised into him he was baptised into us. Everyone of the Gospels records how John the Baptist was baptising people who realised that they needed forgiveness for their sins, and who desired to be washed clean of all that they had done. Jesus joins all these people on the banks of a river and joins in the same ritual. John the Baptist objects, pointing out that he is the one man who does not need washing, but Jesus chooses to identify with those who recognise their sin to 'fulfill all righteousness', that is to achieve his saving purpose (Matthew 3). His hanging on a cross receiving judicial punishment alongside two deserving criminals is the centre of his identification with sinful humanity. But his power, life and holiness is greater than the whole worlds weakness, death and evil. Death is not the end for him as it is for us apart from him, but leads to new life and not a verdict of condemnation but the declaration 'this is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased' (Matthew 3:17). The amazing thing is that the same declaration can be made of us if we are united with him (Romans 8:14, 1 John 3:1).
Today a non-Christian who often comes to our church asked me how it could be just that if we deserve punishment due to our sin, it is just for that punishment to be received by another.
It is shamefully a difficult question for me to answer well. I say it is shameful because it is so close to the heart of the Christian faith. My response (so far - I have agreed to get back to him) pointed at a few things which would help us some way towards an answer:
Sadly my answer, nor that of others, was found to be very satisfactory.
I think the heart of the issue is point 5. Corporate responsibility is an alien concept to us now. Most Christians struggle with the numerous OT passages where God punishes the families of those who rebel (e.g. Num 16) and find that Exodus 20:5-6 ('I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and the fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing steadfast love to thousands of those who love me and keep my commandments') sticks in the throat. We are much more comfortable with Ezekiel 18:20 ('The soul who sins shall die. The son shall not suffer for the iniquity of the father, nor the father suffer for the iniquity of the son. The righteousness of the righteous shall be upon himself, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon himself').
I need to think more this week about:
Any help would be gratefully received (even book recommendations).
Apart from your help my first points of call will be John Stott and PT Forsyth.
BTW this is a different person to that person who asked this question.
When thinking about models for the atonement it may help to reflect on the fact the cross was a death sentence. I was thinking about death sentences the other day and it seems that there are two main reasons behind them:
These correlate to the two main models of substitution:
These in turn correlate to two emphasises in Christian teaching:
I used to think that the second flowed out of the first. Now I think that they both live side by side as different aspects of the same event. An event that his thankfully played out again and again in the lives of believers in Christ. Realising this may make it possible to reconcile Melanchthon and Agricola who saw the problem with sin in the life of the Christian as penalty and power respectively.
Any thoughts?
