Thiselton on the hermeneutics of the doctrine of Atonement

In chapters 14-16 of his The Hermeneutics of Doctrine (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007), Thiselton explores some of the hermeneutical horizons which lead to the doctrine of the Atonement. The following is an attempt to summarise and evaluate some of his thoughts.

Thiselton begins by stating upfront that ‘the search for hermeneutical starting points for the Christian proclamation of the cross has never been easy’ (p.309). We need to be first aware that when we think about the cross or about atonement, we are really engaging at two different kinds of horizons of understanding. The first concerns the initial preunderstandings or readiness to understand on the part of those who seek to understand. This means being aware of or discovering our preunderstandings which will find a point of overlap or engagement with that which has yet to be understood. The second horizon of understanding concerns what the ‘otherness of the subject matter demands’; it is concerned with discovering the appropriate horizon of understanding where ‘the subject matter assumes its proper context for a fruitful understanding that does not distort it or impose inappropriate questions upon it’. In another words, it is about “hearing the other” on its own terms without imposing our prior conceptions on it.


With that in mind, Thiselton moves on to explore three interpretive issues which engage the two horizons stated above – i) the role of human experiences to which a theology of the cross has spoken (and especially in view of the New Perspective), ii) the need to approach our entire hermeneutics of the cross from the standpoint of divine grace, and iii) the recognition of the variety of imagery used to interpret the work of Christ in the New Testament.

With the New Perspective, the challenge has been whether to think of the cross as reflecting a situation of human plight to solution, or one of solution to plight. While Thiselton admits that this contention remains controversial as with regards to the second horizon of understanding – that demanded by the subject matter itself; it is clear that within the first horizon, our understanding of the cross has been shaped by our human experiences of struggle, guilt, or alienation from God. “There is a correlation between specific aspects of the human experience of sin, bondage, or alienation, and aspects of the saving work of Christ.”But Thiselton adds further:

If sin is seen in structural or corporate terms as characterising collective humanity fallen “in Adam”, then the work of Christ is perceived as that of the last or eschatological Adam who brings about believing “in Christ” (Rom 5:12-21; 1 Cor 15:22, 23 and 45-49). Experiences of bondage or vulnerability to forces beyond human control find a correlation with Christ as Victor over such forces (Col 2:15). Notions of facing divine wrath or judgement are matched by a theology of reconciliation through the work of Christ on the cross (Rom 5:1-11). (p.315-16, his emphasis)


With the second interpretive issue, Thiselton states that the presupposition of grace and the nature of divine love must be the axiomatic starting point (and may we add) the basis of all our hermeneutical thinking on the atonement. Throughout the New Testament material, there is no trace of any contrast between the wrath of God and the love of Christ. It is here that we discuss Thiselton’s view regarding which is the more appropriate term to describe Christ’s work – expiation or propitiation, which he discusses in detail in chapter 15. Three key factors lead to Thiselton’s conclusion that it is not a simplistic matter of ‘either-or’, but really one which encompasses both. First, all such discussion must arise out of a horizon of divine grace, i.e. we must not portray the notion of “appeasing God” as one that undercuts the initiative of divine grace. Second, what enables us to ground our thinking on this subject in a realm of divine grace is that of seeing the cross and atonement as a Trinitarian act. The concept of God’s “directing against his own very self” wrath or self-chosen propitiation can become intelligible only within a Trinitarian horizon of understanding. Third, Thiselton emphasises on the notion of divine integrity or “being true to oneself” as the key notion to hold the various concepts together. Divine integrity provides a balanced counter-perspective to the many accusations held against penal substitutionary atonement as being shaped by reading the Bible through the modern day lens of the criminal justice system. Thiselton states wisely, “[…] the nineteeth-century concern to place a heavy emphasis upon jurisprudence and theories of punishment should not lead us to exclude every issue about divine self-consistency and integrity, to which the model of propitiation may point, however relative it may be to other models that qualify it. The deeds of God are bound up with the character and reputation of God’s “name”.” (p.344). Divine integrity also helps us to understand God’s wrath as being “internal” (sin bringing its own consequences) but yet “personal” at the same time – the ultimate punishment is for God to turn from his jealousy for us and be calm (p.344-45). Overall, divine integrity serves to show us a God of grace who is not to be thought of like a vengeful headmaster seeking a scapegoat, but a God of grace that takes upon himself what it costs to stand by his promises and warnings, while reconciling the world to himself. Under such horizons of thinking, expiation and propitiation do not offer an either-or. If we do not totally exclude what propitiation (qualified by other models) points to, this will also presuppose the reality of expiation. Similarly, to just highlight expiation exclusively risks losing out the personal dimension of God’s action. It is also within this context of divine integrity that Thiselton discusses Anselm’s work (chapter 16). Thiselton suggests that rather than to understand Anselm’s work from the perspective of honour or jurisdically, it is better to understand Anselm’s work “ontologically” or “covenantally”. What is at stake is God’s own internal coherence and the consistency of his divine nature. Thiselton states, “What is at stake is the “order” of the universe. This is part of the horizon of understanding for a hermeneutic of the doctrine of the work of Christ alongside the priority, sovereignty, and initiative of divine grace.” (p.365). Coming back to the notion of divine grace, Thiselton draws on the work of Jurgen Moltmann and suggests that the notion of a God who allows himself to grieve and suffer provides the best horizon to work out the complicated questions and issues arising from the atonement today.

We turn now to Thiselton’s third interpretive issue – the variety of images and metaphors used to show the work of Christ. Here, Thiselton first suggests the usefulness of images and metaphors to convey a certain state of affairs. The juxtaposition of a variety of mutually qualifying images, symbols, analogies, metaphors sometimes work together to offer a coherent picture in place of the atomistic pieces which we first begun with. In this light, Thiselton explores in Chapter 14 what he terms as the explicit hard currencies of biblical language used to describe the atonement – redemption and salvation; and what he terms as other effective hard currencies of biblical language – reconciliation, mediation and approach. Interestingly, while Thiselton does not mention explicitly at any point in the three chapters, one wonders whether his statement that the substitutionary nature of the death of Christ as a sacrifice “for our sins” which formed for the subapostolic and early Patristic writings a core understanding (p.355) might be representative of his own thinking. What is clear is that Thiselton advocates a multi-model approach, all working together to qualify single models, or to cancel off unwanted overtones in other models. What is also clear is that ‘the Old Testament texts and life of Israel provide the public horizons of understanding in terms of which the vocabulary and language uses of the New Testament that relate to the work of Christ can be understood’ (p.324). We must not think of these images and metaphors as abstract theological formulae and lose sight of their role within the living, dynamic, dramatic narrative of the New Testament. Otherwise, their ‘hermeneutical currency becomes debased and reduced’ (p.340).

Thiselton has discussed much more and in far greater detail than what this writeup can capture. Perhaps the contours of his thinking are best summarised in his conclusion to the three chapters:
[…] Love and grace provide the overarching horizon of understanding for everything else about the work of Christ. But to stress this horizon is to take the first step without embarking further on the journey. Anselm and Calvin show that divine integrity and the divine governance of the world also form part of a necessary horizon of understanding. Today, in the early twenty-first century, Moltmann has enlarged that horizon in further needed directions. He writes, “I no longer asked what the cross of Christ means for human being, but also asked what the cross of the Son of God means for God himself, whom he called ‘my Father.’ I found an answer to this question in the perception of the deep suffering of God, which is bound up with the death of the Son in Golgotha and becomes manifest in him. It is the suffering of a boundless love.”

Here is the most fundamental hermeneutical horizon in both sense of the word “horizon”. It places the doctrine of the work of Christ fully within the doctrine of divine grace and within the doctrine of the Trinity, from which it derives its theological truth and intelligibility. It also provides a horizon of hermeneutical communication within which those who seek a fuller understanding may engage with “questions that arise” where they already stand. (p.375)


Overall, Thiselton’s three chapters are extremely stimulating in getting us to think deeper on the hermeneutics of the doctrine of the atonement. In particular, his two horizons of understanding listed at the beginning are particularly useful. We must not deny the presence of preunderstandings which we bring to approach on this topic, and sometimes which skew the direction of where we are led to in our investigation. Yet, we do not cast them aside or deny them, but seek to see how they overlap with the second horizon, where the subject matter speaks for what it is without any demands laid on it. Our end-point will always be a fusion of these two horizons. This will translate into two particular emphases in our consideration of the doctrine – we must consider what the whole biblical revelation has to say, and not just mere portions of it to support our preunderstandings which we first bring. In this regard, Thiselton has explored the New Testament language used to describe the work. A complementary approach would be to consider the whole of biblical salvation history in terms of its key moments and consider how that might shape our understanding to the context of how much of the New Testament language on Christ's work is used. The second emphasis would be to adopt a inter-doctrinal approach. The doctrine of the work of Christ cannot be considered in isolation and as a free-standing problem, but it will have bearings in relation to other doctrines, in particularly the doctrine of grace, of God, and of sin. Such an inter-doctrinal approach, as evidenced by Thiselton, will lead to a rich and deep consideration of the great work of Christ for us.

Review of Death by Love: Letters From the Cross

What does the theology of the atonement have to do with someone tormented by demons and spirits? Someone struggling with lust? Someone struggling to forgive and seek reconciliation? Someone wanting blood and revenge for a justified cause? Someone crumbling under the filth and stain from acts of sin done to them in their lives? Someone seeking to justify himself from a horrendous crime previously committed? Someone unaware of his own problem of self-righteousness? Someone struggling with sickness and staring at potential death in the face? Someone aware of the debt we owe God but trying to pay it off through his own efforts? Someone struggling to know God? And hear this - a young child born in a loving Christian family and environment? What does what happened on the cross have to do with all these situations?


That’s the big question that pastor Mark Driscoll (together with theologian Gerry Breshears) addresses in one of his more recent books Death By Love: Letters From the Cross (Wheaton: Crossway, 2008). After an introductory chapter discussing the substitutionary death of Jesus, Driscoll and Breshears go on to present the multi-faceted jewel of the cross. What is unique about their presentation, however, is the way the theology is presented. The rich theological truths of Christus Victor; Jesus as our redemption; our New Covenant sacrifice; our righteousness; our justification; our propitiation; our expiation; our examplar; our ransom; our reconciliation; our revelation, and even the doctrine of the scope of the atonement are presented not in an abstract way, but embedded within a certain life situation or context. Each chapter begins with Driscoll introducing someone he had worked with in a pastoral context. This is then followed by a personal letter written to that person where one facet of the golden jewel of the cross is presented so that ‘the person and work of Jesus are made intensely practical for that person’s life’ (p.13). Driscoll and Breshears are clear in their overall aim – ‘to show that there is no such thing as Christian community or Christian ministry apart from a rigorous theology of the cross that is practically applied to the lives of real people’ (p.13).

Overall, I think Driscoll and Breshears have succeeded to a large extent. Here is theology that bites; theology that is not presented in a high-brow academic ivory-tower fashion but instead shown clearly for what theology should be – theology that speaks to real people in real circumstances of real life. Here is theology meets pastoral counselling meets evangelism meets edification – as Driscoll shows how he wisely counsels people, confronting them and challenging them where necessary, but at all times grounded in the rich truths of Scripture. Here is dramatic theology – where theological truths not just inform us, but they actually shape our posture and direct us towards a fitting participation in God’s great drama of his revelation, which by his gracious Word and Spirit he has invited us to be a part of.

I have just three points to make which I believe would contribute further to the book. Firstly, the cosmic renewal aspect of the cross (and resurrection) was not highlighted. Instead, the application of what the cross achieved seemed largely to be individualistic. While that is true, the cross and resurrection of Christ does also have a cosmic effect. It is because of the cross and resurrection that we can have assurance of the new creation. In a passing world tainted and burdened with sin, decay, environmental degradation, and pain, the new creation and the new hope made possible and promised through the cross and resurrection is surely a welcome to all. Secondly, there needs to be a stronger emphasis of the atonement as a Trinitarian work. Certain portions of the book might run the risk of almost sounding like the cross was solely the work of the Son. While Driscoll and Breshears do make mention of God Himself as the second person of the Trinity stepping up to take the penalty in our place (p.115), a stronger emphasis of this theme would have been better. And lastly, it would have been ideal if Driscoll and Breshears had concluded the book by perhaps showing how the different facets and aspects of the cross ‘hang together’ – is there a central key idea which holds the different aspects together? Driscoll and Breshears would answer an affirmative ‘yes’ - it is penal substitution (an answer I would agree with). But they seem to assume and state this truth rather than show us how it is so, and doing more of the latter would add further to the academic standing of the book.

Overall, even after consideration of the three points above, this is still an excellent book and one which I think all pastors and ministry leaders should get their hands on. Read these letters from the cross and be warmed, be encouraged in heart, and with our lips and our lives, may we break forth in praise declaring ‘O the Wondrous Cross’!

Thiselton and Green on Money

Anthony Thiselton has this interesting thing to say about money and power (the context is actually in a discussion on the hermeneutics of the doctrine of what it means to be human. Thiselton proposes that part of being created in the image of God means humanity has a capacity to take responsibility for the world, and such a responsibility will bring with being human the use of power. It is in this context that he discusses on money and wealth):

“The development of civilisation has led to the use of money as our instrument of power and of the quest for the security of the self. The biblical writings abound in warnings against the misuse of wealth. Like power itself, money may be used positively for human flourishing as a unit of exchange in place of goods, land, and property. [Quoting a certain report]… “Money is not the problem; we are the problem. It is not money that defines us theologically or spiritually, but our personal attitudes.” Our problem, especially in our times, is the risk of equating a person’s value or worth with the extent of their financial gain in the system of money.

[…] The most dramatic phenomenon of today is the explosion of credit. In moderation, drawing on credit permits the purchase of houses and the expansion of businesses. But today exponential advances of credit promote the use of wealth in the present drawn against future projections that may or may not materialise. The present is becoming increasingly mortgaged to the future, which demonstrates the link between relationality, power, and time. [All this] makes possible […] “the fantasy of a risk-free life,” as if humankind could hold old age, finitude, and mortality at bay.

Yet there is a core of continuity in the biblical traditions and Christian doctrine. Concern for the poor, the destitute, the fatherless, and the widow is overwhelming in biblical traditions and Christian doctrine. The poor are a special concern of God’s, for they live on the edge of destitution, with no economic security. “You shall not worry or oppress a resident alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt” (Exod 22:21). “Because the poor are deported, because the needy groan, I will now rise up, says the LORD” (Ps 12:5). James writes, “Religion that is pure… is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world (Jas. 1:27). Here, once again, we see the importance of the dispositional character of belief. What people do with their pocketbook or purse exhibits in the bodily world of action what his or her faith amounts to; how it is lived out.”

Interestingly, Thiselton shares much common ground with Stephen Green, Chairman of HSBC Holdings plc., who gave a seminar yesterday on ‘Good Value: Money, Wealth and Morality in an uncertain world’. Firstly, both share a common insight to the dangers of the current economic system, especially in the area of credit. Credit, when used wrongly, leads to one developing greed; a sense that we can live the future in the present, in the now; and a mistaken idea that this economic dream could hold utopia for us – all the major tenets of consumerism (Stephen Green puts it in a different way, but nonetheless bearing the same concept). Secondly, both Thiselton and Green locate this desire for exchange between humans as a natural occurrence in human nature. Green highlights that since the earliest civilisations, humankind developed the need to exchange goods and services, and locates this urge or desire as a natural one. Thiselton expresses it more within the doctrine of what it means to be human. For him, being human, being created in the image of God means two important concepts will be expressed in our doctrinal horizon of understanding humanity – relationality and along with that, embodiment or ‘bodiliness’. We are created to relate to God and to one another, and this world, and we relate doing so in an embodied context within place, space and time. This desire for exchange between one another could be located in the exercising of power and wisdom for the flourishing of all creation, and the fact that we do so as embodied beings. Thirdly, both have rightly grounded the fault of all things not in the external economic system, but the internal heart condition that governs over the system, and expresses itself in the corrupting of the system. Interestingly, I have always had the thesis that the first mention of ‘city’ in Gen 4:17 must be located along two contexts or horizons arising from Genesis. The first is in light of the creational mandate Gen 1:28, and cities in that sense can be seen as part of a the development of this filling and subduing and ruling of the earth (the development of agriculture, music, and technology from 4:20-22 could further support this view). The second horizon is that of Gen 3 – the Fall. All this development happens in the context of the Fall, and hence we can expect almost a ‘natural corruption’ of this development (for example, we see this in modern cities today. Modern cities can be the place of vibrant culture, where we experience wonderful modern living and multitude cultures and experiences, but yet cities can be a devastating place in terms of alienating and isolating individuals from one another). In another words, as we look at economic cities, urbanisation, globalisation, we must realise these are not perfect structures or systems – they can never be and are not meant to be. Lastly, both Thiselton and Green remind us that in the midst of all these, we must hold onto hope – hope of a future which God alone will bring – and live out our lives in consistency with that hope, in this case, inwardly allowing the Spirit of God to transform our hearts and minds to contentment and wisdom and knowing truly what the (eternal) value of things are, and outwardly looking after the marginalised and oppressed where this fallen current system will naturally exclude them. In another words, how we view money and wealth and economic systems must be located within the horizons of the doctrines of man, sin, and eschatology!

Possible objections to the hermeneutics of doctrine?

In chapters 7 & 8, Thiselton considers possible objections to the thesis he has been advocating in the Hermeneutics of Doctrine – that doctrine arises out of a dispositional account of belief; it is contingent, embodied in practices of life; communal, and formative. His predicted possible objections seem to be able to be classified under the following three categories.

Firstly, is it valid to use hermeneutical theories to apply it to Christian doctrine? Afterall, isn’t doctrine more concerned with coherence while hermeneutics and biblical exegesis more characterised by the respect for particularity? Doesn’t that bring the two into tension? Not apparently, Thiselton thinks so. The alleged tension is ‘more apparent than real’, he states (p.124). He quotes Pannenberg as one who held onto the importance of coherence in his view and understanding of systematic theology, but yet had a degree of contingency within that system. Thiselton states: “On the side of systematic theology, few have placed greater emphasis upon coherence than Wolfhart Pennenberg. […] Nevertheless this does not suggest, for Pannenberg, that the truth of Christian doctrine constitutes a “finished” system. First, all truth remains provisional upon the realisation of the eschaton. […] Second, if truth is derived from the living God who acts in ongoing history, the truth of doctrine and truth of God is disclosed “‘in a contingent manner.’” (p.125, his emphasis).

Second, does a communal, contingent, hermeneutical approach exclude epistemology i.e. if doctrine has a communal and contingent nature to it, then isn’t doctrine at the end of the day without any objective truth-claims, but merely the ‘product’ of ecclesial communities in particular situations? Thiselton answers with a resounding ‘No’. Quoting Pannenberg, he states that the truth of doctrine does not rest upon “a mere consensus theory of truth,” even if ecclesial consensus plays a role in the development of doctrine. It is not that the consensus of churches creates Christian doctrine, but that (quoting Pannenberg) “conviction of the divine truth of the Christian religion [establishes] and [justifies] the continual existence of Christian churches.” (p.126). Thiselton suggests that one of the main culprits leading to such a view is the general attack of “foundationalist epistemology”, which in turn is loosely and uncritically linked with modernity, ‘as if to suggest that all who have reservations about the one also reject the other, and thence turn toward the postmodern.’ (p.127). Thisleton goes on to differentiate between what he calls “hard” foundationalism and “soft” foundationalism, shunning the former but espousing the latter (p.128-130). He concludes this issue with the following (which arises from a context where he is critically evaluating the work of Richard Heyduck):

“On one side: a hermeneutic of doctrine affirms […] community, embodiment, narrative, drama, practices, wisdom, community identity, the place of the church as an interactive community […]. On the other side: none of this could be commended or accepted if it were to entail a retreat from epistemology; a consensus or social theory of truth; and an uncritical appropriation of the postmodern as such.” (p.131)

Elsewhere, he states: “A hermeneutic of doctrine prevents doctrine from becoming only a monologic discourse; a hermeneutic of doctrine prevents hermeneutics from becoming only relativistic.” (p.136, his emphasis).

Third, if much of hermeneutics consists is contingent-based, particular and formative, if hermeneutics consist of the two poles of “explanation” and “understanding” (where the former provides a critical or “checking” dimension while the latter provides a more creative and formative dimension), then in what way can we still speak of theology and doctrine as a “science”? Here (like in the previous 2 objections highlighted above), Thiselton draws on and discusses the work of many theologians or thinkers in hermeneutics, but what I found extremely useful is his discussion on T.F. Torrance, where he highlight’s Torrance’s five criteria for a “scientific” theology (p.148-49):

(1) The first is the utter lordship of the Object. The Knowledge of God entails an epistemological inversion. The human subject must not impose upon God as our Object of thought any prior categorisation or fixed horizon that will distort our understanding by speaking before we have listened. God speaks and humankind hears. Here is an inversion between subject and object (or better subject matter) – rather than subject study subject matter, here it is the subject matter transforming the subject!

(2) The second is an acknowledgement of the personal nature of the “Object “ of theology and doctrine. This is Jesus Christ as both “Person and Word”.

(3) The third is the notion of dialogue and conversation. The word of God creates “a community of conversation” that corresponds as far as possible with the “objectivity of the Object” and God’s glory. God gives himself as Lord, but in human form “within our space and time”. This coheres well with Thiselton’s earlier point of doctrine as communal, formative and embodied.

(4) The fourth is the centrality of Jesus Christ as the self-objectification of God for us in our humanity. This is the beginning point from which theological coherence grows. In another words, coherence in doctrine depends upon relating all theology ultimately to Christ.

(5) The fifth is the continual place and function of critique and self-critique (similar to the concept of “explanation”) in theology.

This leads Thiselton to conclude that ‘the nature of “theological science” place “scientific” theory firmly within a hermeneutical framework that not only allows but also positively nurtures formative, transformative, embodied, and dynamic doctrine’ (p.149, emphasis his). Further on, he writes, “Truth and understanding and their frame of reference remain dynamic, temporal, embodied, contingent, and provisional as well as coherent, and grounded in God.” (p.162)