Blocher and "God Crucified" Theologies

In an essay ‘God and the Cross’ (p.125-141 of Engaging the Doctrine of God (ed. Bruce McCormack; Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2008), French theologian Henri Blocher evaluates the “God Crucified” theologies, most notably expressed in the theologies of Jürgen Moltmann (as seen in The Crucified God) and Eberhard Jüngel (God as the Mystery of the World: On the Foundations of the Theology of the Crucified One in the Dispute between Theism and Atheism).

Blocher states that the dual attraction found in the “God Crucified” theologies is the new theodicy it provides as we see God involving Himself in upmost suffering, and an affirmation of history as linked and binded with God’s being (for e.g. Moltmann in The Crucified God goes so far as to say that the Trinity is constituted by the event of the cross) (p.129-30). Blocher himself applauds and agrees with the “God Crucified” theologies on two fronts. Firstly, the biblical sense of truth leads us to a certain degree to this truth. Blocher states, “If a view of God makes it impossible for him to be in Christ on the cross, reconciling the world unto himself, it cannot be entertained.” (p.130) Secondly, the “God Crucified” theologies warn us against the influence of pagan Greek philosophy on Christian theology and the recognition of God’s pathos (“passion”), that entails compassion. A ‘positive valuation of history and the constant stress on the doctrine of the Trinity are welcome indeed’ (p.131).

However, Blocher also has three serious misgivings – the first relates to the deity of the Son, where in the “God Crucified” theologies, there is a tendency to relegate the second of the Trinity to the man Jesus, as ‘the man (crucified) with whom God identifies himself, thus defining himself as love, thus differentiating himself as Trinity’ (p.132). The second difficulty relates to God’s independence from the world if his being is defined by a worldly occurrence. Moltmann, for example, is ready to soften the emphasis of God’s freedom in creation, and he makes room for ideas of ‘panentheism’ in his theology (p.133). The third difficulty relates to the relationship between ontology and history. If God’s being is constituted or defined by the event in time, then this event itself is transmuted or changed into ontology itself: it becomes eternal, it no longer “happens”. The news of the cross runs into the risk of being an eternal Idea. Blocher states it this way, “The nemesis is that ontology historicised breeds an ontologised history, which loses the true character of history. The true character of history demands the duality." (In the same way, we wonder if the same comment can be posed of Barth’s idea of the incarnation of Christ as crucial to God’s being, though Barth prevents the ‘dehistoricising’ of the incarnation by stating that God’s being is ‘anticipated’ in that key event, which happened distinctly in time and history. ‘God’s being is in his becoming’. As McCormack states it, ‘God’s being in eternity is a being-in-act’. See here.) All this leads to Blocher’s major difficulty with ‘God Crucified’ theologies and what they tell us about God’s nature – the hermeneutics of the event. Whatever knowledge we derive of God from the event (of the cross) comes to us within a grid and framework of interpretation bound to the event itself! Blocher states, “The only “God”, then, that can be conceived is “correlative” of some worldly reality. […] Only if God himself testifies about himself may we go beyond.” (p.134). In another words, Blocher is for a theology of the cross – but one interpreted under the guidance of all the Scriptures, the abiding word of God written! (p.135).

With this in mind, Blocher states three interpretive guidelines from Scripture that help us to think through what the theology of the cross reveals about God. Firstly, God cannot die in his own (divine) nature. Scripture seems to lead us towards that direction (Hab 1:12 and 1 Tim 6:16). Secondly, the distinction between person and nature becomes foundational, and thirdly and related to the second, persons in the Godhead can be viewed as subsisting relations. Blocher states this, “There are several persons of the one God, and the language of the “crucified God” must be explained as dealing with God the Son, whom God the Father has sent that he may take on human flesh and die in his flesh, in the weakness proper to human flesh.” (p.138)

A Nuanced Defence of PSA by Marshall and Holmes

I have just finished reading two books on the atonement, where the authors offer a nuanced defence of Penal Substitutionary Atonement (PSA) – the view which states (the way I would put it) that on the cross the God-man Jesus bore the penalty of our sin in our place, satisfying God’s wrath against our sin and enabling forgiveness to come to us.

The first book is by Ian Howard Marshall, Aspects of the Atonement: Cross and Resurrection in the reconciling of God and humanity (Milton Keynes: Paternoster, 2007). This book really consists of 4 essays written by Marshall, each constituting a chapter in the book. In the 1st chapter, Marshall defends the concept of the penalty of sin, with the aim of hopefully persuading us to a stand like: “Well, maybe terms like penalty and anger are open to misunderstanding, but properly understood they express the heart of the matter.” (p.12). He explores the vocabulary of ‘punishment’, ‘vegeance’, ‘wrath’, ‘judgement’ and ‘destruction and death’ from the New Testament (p.11-19), and concludes that there is ‘no legitimate way of avoiding the fact that these terms refer to the (personal) attitude of God himself that results in action being taken against sinners’ (p.19), and may we add, actions that also include the results or consequences of sin which sinners bring upon themselves. If the God of the Bible is fundamentally holy and loving, and both of these attributes are relational, then they will find expression in his grace and mercy towards his creation, but yet also judgement and wrath when that creation is spoilt by sin (p.24). Marshall also explores and upholds the concept of ‘retributive judgement’, broadening it beyond a simply legal consideration, but including the whole breadth of the consequences of sin in the Bible (p.32). What is attractive about Marshall’s proposal is his suggestion that the ultimate element in judgement is the exclusion from community, from the kingdom of God – a suggestion which has mileage in developing the idea of penalty and penal substitution (understood in this broad sense) for Israel within her covenant relationship with God. In the 2nd chapter, Marshall attempts to go deeper into the atonement itself – what exactly is happening on the cross. He begins by taking the cue from P.T. Forsyth and suggests that it is the ‘Holy Love of God’ that undergirds the nature of the atonement and calls for it (p.34-38). He then explores the various New Testament metaphorical language used to describe the work of salvation – ‘sacrifice’, ‘curse’, ‘redemption and ransom’, ‘reconciliation’, ‘forgiveness’ – and concludes that ‘essentially the same basic principle is expressed in each of these different understandings of the death of Jesus. The principle of one person bearing the painful consequences of sin is the modus operandi of the different understandings of the cross’ – God did something in Christ that involved Christ dying while bearing our sins (p.51). Thus, the concept ‘penal substitution’ can be appropriately used of the cross, though the ‘penal’ should be understood in the broadest sense of the word as mentioned above, and though we might need to think of improving on the term to cover the concept in today’s theological climate. Marshall concludes this chapter with 4 points about PSA (p.64-67):

• A clarification of the nature of judgement (as what Marshall has done in the 1st chapter) helps us to a better understanding of the death of Christ
• It is possible for us to hold fast to the concept of penal substitution while looking for terminology that may communicate it more effectively to our contemporaries.
• The doctrine of the Trinity is our firm defense against any false suggestion that God the Father had to be appeased by the Son in order to bring about the purpose of redemption.
• As we clarify and defend PSA, we can and should continue to subscribe to declarations of the evangelical faith that enshrine this fundamental and essential doctrine and to sing with reverent thanksgiving and praise.

In the 3rd chapter, Marshall turns to the resurrection, and conducts an in-depth study as to how the resurrection of Jesus is related to the achieving of salvation on behalf of sinful humanity. He explores passages in Hebrews, and several other NT passages, before zooming in on Rom 4:25 where it is stated that ‘Christ was raised from the dead with a view to our justification’, i.e. our justification is in some way tied to Jesus’ resurrection. Marshall concludes:

[The link between Christ’s resurrection and our justification] goes beyond the simple understanding of Christ’s resurrection in terms of God’s vindication of him, purely as a demonstration to humanity that he was the Messiah after all and that his sacrifice has been effective. Rather, in raising Christ from death […], God is not so much vindicating what Christ has done and saying that he approves of it, but is bringing him back from the dead as the One who is now just and experiencing the new life that God grants to those whose sin has been taken away; this is happening representatively to Christ so that believers may share in this new life.” (p.90)

In another words, Jesus is our substitute in dying on the cross for us and bearing our penalty, but Jesus is our representative in experiencing justification and living this new relationship with God.

In the 4th and final chapter, Marshall searches for a term that best encompasses all that is happening in the salvation and work of Christ, and he finds it in the candidate ‘reconciliation’. Marshall explores passages which have the word (2 Cor 5:17-21; 1:19-23; Rom 5:1 and Eph 2) and also passages which contain the two other closely connected word-groups of “peace” and “forgiveness”. He then compares ‘reconciliation’ with other ‘models’ of salvation such as ‘justification’, ‘redemption’, ‘salvation’, ‘sacrifice’, ‘family’ and ‘covenant’ and show how while these other models are similar in structure to the motif of reconciliation and often closely linked with it, reconciliation might still be the most comprehensive and apt of the models used. Four points in particular stand out: Firstly, reconciliation particularly brings out the relational and personal element in the problem between us and God – There is a breakdown or lack of a positive personal relationship between sinners and God. Secondly, reconciliation highlights the divine initiative of God in bridging this chasm. Thirdly, reconciliation highlights the fact that in salvation, the sinner is brought back into a restored relationship with God, and both the negative and positive sense of salvation is brought out – not only cancellation of sins or imputation of righteousness, but also the positive righteous status and the ‘peace’ we now have. And lastly, reconciliation as a term and concept highlights the social dimension or implications of being saved to God better than some of the other terms. Marshall concludes:

“[…] Reconciliation is a model that expresses clearly the basic pattern of human need, God’s action, and the resultant new situation that shapes all the biblical imagery of salvation, and that it does so in a way that is particularly comprehensive and is especially relevant in a world where the need for new relationships between human beings is so clamant.” (p.137)

The second book is by Stephen R. Holmes, The Wondrous Cross: Atonement and Penal Substitution in the Bible and History (Milton Keynes: Paternoster, 2007). Unlike Marshall’s book, which is a compilation of his essays written over various occasions, Holmes book is more of a bird’s eye view on the topic of the atonement, written in an accessible style targeted for both lay readers and pastors. After an introductory chapter laying out the issues, Holmes begins by exploring atonement as seen in the Old Testament and the New Testament. He focuses mainly on sacrifices and the suffering servant of Isaiah from the OT, concluding that perhaps the biggest feature portrayed for us in these several different pictures is that of mystery (p.27) – God commands the sacrifices, he states that the suffering servant will suffer vicariously, he commands Abraham to sacrifice his son but intervenes at the last moment by providing a sacrifice – in all these, we see what God commands, but we do not know how or why they work. As for the New Testament, Holmes concludes that the New Testament writers did focus on the cross, but used many different images to illustrate what was happening, with each of these images in and of themselves being either partial or incomplete. All this leads to Holmes’ conclusion that the ‘best way to think of the cross is to use many and complementary models or stories of salvation that hint at or point towards the indescribable truth at the heart of the matter’ (p.41). In this regard, Holmes views that there is no clearly worked out doctrine of atonement n the NT, only the raw material by which we may and must attempt to construct such a doctrine (p.41). And in our attempt to construct such a doctrine, it is tempting and very easy to read these images or stories of salvation as different ways of describing PSA, especially when we already know from somewhere else that PSA is the (only?) right way to understand the atonement. Holmes believes that the NT language in and of itself does not demand to be read this way. In the next 2 chapters, Holmes looks at the doctrine of atonement from Christian History (from key Church Fathers to Medieval theologians to the Reformation and all the way into present day twentieth century) with him concluding that the early church fathers right through to the Medieval Fathers had different stories of salvation to tell. It was only from the Reformation (John Calvin) that penal substitution became a common and successful way of talking about the cross, with this being the case till recently. Holmes defends his thesis most strongly in the 6th chapter – that the Bible itself does not have just one picture of how Jesus saves us, but has different pictures ‘put right next to one another with no suggestion that one is more important than the other’ (p.76). And Holmes argues further that such a many-and-complementary picture way of viewing the cross has to be the way, because the cross is far too fundamental, far too basic, to be just one example of some more general part of human life (p.78). So if we try to understand the cross of Christ through an exclusive idea of sacrifice, or love, or anything else in the world, what we end up doing is making the cross of Christ just another example – it might be the supreme example but still just an example – of love, or sacrifice or whatever the thing might be. Rather, the centrality of the cross obliges us to understand sacrifice, love, and every other human reality by thinking about the cross of Christ (p.78). And only a many-and-complementary picture view of the cross allows for such a view. In the 7th and 8th chapters, Holmes explores the place of PSA within such a many-and-complementary picture view, and defends that it has a valid place and is one valid story to tell of the cross, even amidst the theological and cultural objections to PSA. Holmes has some interesting insights along the way, such as his proposal that it is by seriously considering union with Christ that the objection that it is not fair to transfer guilt from one individual to another can be answered – God can take our guilt because he identifies so closely with us that our guilt can be shared, or transferred (p.97). Holmes also reminds us that PSA must be thought of as a work of the Trinitarian God and that it first arises and begins out of a hermeneutical horizon of the divine love of God. As Holmes reminds us, John Calvin insisted at length that the only reason we have an atonement theology is the prior love of God. The following paragraph perhaps best captures Holmes’ thoughts on PSA:

“[…] Properly told, penal substitution is a story that helps us make sense of the cross of Christ, of the astonishing thing that happened at Calvary. But it is not the only way of describing the cross – not even a privileged one. […] However, penal substitution is a way of talking that we should hold on to, because it preserves certain truths that are taught better by telling this story than by telling any other story I have ever heard.” (p.100-01)

What do we make of Marshall and Holmes’ proposals? On the one hand, I agree with Holmes’ many-and-complementary picture or ‘stories of salvation’ view that he upholds. Perhaps we as evangelicals have quite often presented PSA as the only and exclusive way in explaining the atonement, and have either ignored the other models or stories, or ‘subsumed’ them under PSA. And PSA has been a good story to tell so far in our time and age, where a sense of sin and guilt and courts of law and justice were pictures and terms that individuals could easily identify with. But as Holmes pointed out, does the story of PSA still resonate so deeply in today’s culture, where sin and shame and guilt are no longer felt and experienced so deeply as before? (p.114-15) In this regard, perhaps Marshall’s suggestion that the ultimate form of judgement as exclusion from God’s community might be something that resonates stronger with people today – in another words, the sense of alienation and exclusion is stronger than that of shame and guilt?

But here, on the other hand, is where I disagree with Holmes. Must we, in holding onto this many-and complementary picture view of atonement, at the same time state that there is no privileged picture or story of salvation? Here is where Marshall helps tremendously. If as Marshall as shown, there is an underlying principle of one person bearing the consequences of sin as the modus operandi of the different pictures or stories of salvation, then can we say that penal substitution undergirds all the different pictures? In saying this, I am of course going for a very broad definition of ‘penal’ being the consequences of our sin and rebellion, rather than the narrowly-defined definition of ‘penal’ being the consequences of breaking some law in a court of justice (which I suspect is the definition Holmes works with throughout his book). Finally, I think there is much worth exploring into Marshall’s suggestion of ‘reconciliation’ being a suitable term to describe the multi-faceted work of the cross as shown through the different pictures and stories of salvation – a header term that connects and brings together the different pictures and stories not by subsuming and collapsing the different pictures into one, but summarising the different effects of the atonement won by Christ for our salvation.

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’!

Penal Substitution in postmodernity - Thinking Deeper on PSA 5

This will be the last post for the recent series on Thinking Deeper on Penal Substitutionary Atonement, and it will summarise and review Kevin Vanhoozer’s essay ‘The Atonement in Postmodernity: Guilt, Goats and Gifts’ found in The Glory of the Atonement.

Vanhoozer begins by stating that PSA is viewed as scandalous by many postmoderns. And the scandal is often viewed as coming from three separate problems with PSA. Firstly, the methodological or “formal” problem – proponents of PSA have the tendency to reduce the many NT metaphors of speaking about the cross to one: penalty. The move is from many metaphors to one, and from the one metaphor to a single concept. Secondly, the soteriological or “material” problem – PSA seems to presuppose and operate from a divine “economy” where God distributes a particular response (in this case forgiveness) only after the appropriate payment (in this case Jesus’ death). Such an economy leads towards the direction of legitimising retaliation and retribution. In another words, the question here is – “Does God need to be placated before he can love and forgive? Is God party to an economy of retaliatory exchange?” (p.372). Thirdly, the pastoral or “political” problem – how can we preach and practice the atonement? Does PSA lead to practices that perpetuate suffering and abuse?

Drawing on key postmodern philosophers and theologians, Vanhoozer proceeds to show how postmodernity both challenges and contributes to PSA. The main thing he advocates for is that PSA in postmodernity must be seen to operate from what he calls an economy of excess rather than from the traditional view of an economy of exchange. He explores this concept under the following 3 aspects of PSA:
Guilt: justice as satisfaction or payment of debt (traditional) vs. Justice as what is in excess of the law (postmodern)
Goat: averting violence by sacrificial killing (traditional) vs. Denouncing violence by exposing the violence inherent in sacrifice (postmodern)
Gift: giving to get something back (traditional) vs. Giving without hope of return (postmodern)

Drawing on Ricoeur, Derrida, and Milbank, Vanhoozer both questions and affirms (in fact he ‘over-affirms’ by going beyond a sole or exclusive affirmation) the concept of justice as requiring some form of payment or satisfaction. Vanhoozer then turns mainly to Rene Girard’s ‘scapegoat’ mechanism to show how postmoderns see Jesus’ death not so much as a scapegoat to avert violence, but as the scapegoat that exposes the ‘scapegoat mechanism’ present in human cultures and societies – the ‘dark secret of civilisation that society and religion alike are founded on collective violence’ (p.384). However, Vanhoozer also offers some criticisms of Girard’s proposal. Lastly, Vanhoozer draws on the work of Jean-Luc Marion and Ricoeur to suggest a new viewpoint of gifts – not within the economy of exchange, but within the ‘hyper-economy of grace’ (p.396). He concludes this section with the following:
“The operative concept in postmodern theological understandings of the atonement is excess, not exchange. The death of Jesus exceeds our attempts to explain it. Postmodern treatments of the cross are thus “hyper economic.” They seek to articulate the saving significance of Jesus’ death in a way that goes beyond explanatory economies and propositional truths.” (p.396-97) (his emphasis)

Vanhoozer then proceeds in the final section of his essay to offer a constructive proposal of the atonement – God’s gift of Jesus’ Death for us. Vanhoozer suggest that the key NT word used to express the significance of Jesus’ death is the Greek word hyper, or simply “for”. He begins with Jesus’ Word at the last supper – “This is my body given for (hyper) you”, and states there are three key concepts within this statement that should not be missed – the covenant, the temple, and the Exodus. The first two, taken together, deal with the negative – Jesus’ earlier reference to his body as a temple (John 2:19-22) means that Jesus saw himself as the fulfilment of everything that Israel’s temple was and meant to be. And by saying his body is broken, Jesus is saying that he is the place where sin is dealt with, making life possible in the presence of God. As Vanhoozer himself emphasises, “The shed blood is a sign that God has proved this covenantal faithfulness precisely by undergoing the sanctions, legal and relational, for covenantal disobedience.” (p.398, his emphasis). The concept of covenantal disobedience is an important one for Vanhoozer in understanding how he sees the definition and demands of ‘justice’. Earlier in the essay he states that what we need is ‘some such phrase as “making right covenantal relationship” to catch both the objective and the subjective outcomes of Christ’s atoning work. The atonement makes things ‘right’ to be sure, but this righteousness is legal and interpersonal, objective and subjective’ (p.381, his emphasis). If the first two concepts of covenant and temple deal with the negative, then the third concept of Exodus deals with the positive. Vanhoozer suggests that Jesus’ describing of his death as ‘exodus’ (Luke 9:31) is Jesus’ way of stating the new promised land he is taking us to – the Kingdom of God which is the reign of God in our human hearts. Christ’s death makes possible God’s gift of the Holy Spirit – ‘Jesus gives his body and blood for us, and in return we receive his Spirit, the operative principle of the new covenant and of the new age’ (p.399, his emphasis). Perhaps there is no better way of summarising what is at the heart of Vanhoozer’s proposal than to quote from the man himself:
“Jesus’ death is ultimately the result of a divinely initiated reconciling act that deals with sin by forgiving it […] and by establishing a new hyper-economy of covenantal love. In this triune economy, Father, Son and Spirit give without reserve out of the abundance of their Trinitarian life and love. Perhaps this is the lesson of the atonement in postmodernity: that the triune God is excessive, so much so that God shares his overflowing love with creatures who are not God: “God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us” (Rom 5:5).” (p.400, his emphasis)

Vanhoozer ends his essay by suggesting how such a view of atonement leads to the definition of true religion and spirituality and leads to a life of obedience and worship – “to practice the doctrine of atonement is to offer oneself back to the Creator and Redeemer, to the glory of God.” (p.402). It also helps us to see how in the atonement, there is nothing less happening than the triune God giving himself to sinners taken to the limit and beyond; and the cross as the condition and source of great covenantal blessing – “in loving his enemies (Rom 5:10), God brings his covenant partner to justice, not simply retribution.” (p.403, his emphasis) What is Vanhoozer’s overall conclusion of the place of PSA? “The economy of covenantal grace is not exhausted by the logic of penal substitution even though the latter has a legitimate place.” (p.404).

In many ways, Vanhoozer offers a fresh penetrating insight into how postmodernity challenges and even contributes to our understanding of the cross. His suggestion of viewing God’s salvation as an economy of excess rather than an economy of exchange is a welcomed one. He still has a place for retributive punishment (though for him, that should not be the only or exhaustive way of viewing the cross), but he goes beyond retributive punishment to God’s excessive self-giving love which is at the heart of the divine economy of excess he is proposing. This, for Vanhoozer, is justice (granted that Vanhoozer here is going with the postmodern definition of it). The other helpful point is Vanhoozer ‘backing up’ his whole ‘divine economy of excess’ proposal not just from the work of postmodern philosophers or theologians, but from the whole biblical concept of the covenantal relationship between God and his people. For Vanhoozer, the covenant and the whole blessings associated with it is excessive in nature – it is grace. PSA is God taking upon himself the sanctions of the covenant so that we can enjoy the blessings of it. Such a refreshing perspective is surely a welcome – at least to me!

However, a few questions and thoughts remain. Firstly, there is another important aspect of Jesus’ understanding of his own death. Besides seeing himself within a covenantal framework, Jesus also saw himself very much in the role of the suffering servant of Israel (for a good work on this idea, refer to Peter Bolt’s The Cross From a Distance). Of course, the role of the suffering servant (even as spelt in Isaiah) is never divorced from the larger covenantal framework the whole relationship Israel had with God is based in, but it remains to be shown more explicitly how these two concepts tie in together in Jesus’ understanding of his death. Secondly, while Vanhoozer has explained the concept of justice (both restorative and retributive) by the concept of covenant, one questions if the concept of covenant or covenantal love can totally exhaust this idea. From Romans 1-2, the Apostle Paul explains God’s wrath against the world and mankind, but it would be difficult to explain that within a covenantal framework (unless one goes with the concept of covenant of works with Adam etc. which I personally find it hard to substantiate from the Scriptures). In another words, the deeper metaphysical questions of the nature of God’s justice still needs to be explained and explored as we explore PSA, and while the concept of covenant complements it and is part of the explanation, it does not exhaust it. This leads to the third and final point – while Vanhoozer admits that PSA has a legitimate place in ‘the economy of covenantal grace’, can we go a step further to explore what place it has and how central is that place? Perhaps postmoderns will accuse such a step of stripping the ‘otherness’ of the atonement and trying to totalise the atonement with a theory; nevertheless we must ask, with the full revelation of God revealed in salvation history, can we see how the different aspects of the one atonement might be brought out, without either diluting their diversity or compromising on the overall unity? Such an attempts calls for nothing less than a combination of biblical theology and systematic theology

Thinking Deeper on Penal Substitutionary Atonement 3

In this third post, we will explore some of the theological issues pertaining to PSA, as gleaned from the essays from The Atonement Debate and The Glory of The Atonement.

In ‘Penal Substitution: A response to recent criticisms’ (Atonement), Garry Williams addresses 4 criticisms levelled against PSA – that PSA entails a mistaken doctrine of God by ascribing retributive justice to him; that PSA conflicts with the doctrine of the Trinity by severing the Father from the Son; that PSA grows out of modern Western individualism with its conception of “autobiographical justice”, and that PSA is guilty of doctrinal isolation in that it has no place for the life of Jesus, it cannot account for the cosmic scope of the work of Christ, and it undermines the need for moral renewal in the life of the believer subsequent to conversion (p.172-173). Williams handles each criticism in turn.

For the first criticism, Williams highlights that punishment can be intrinsic, follow from an act (i.e. as cause-and-effect), and yet still be retributive in character, especially if the punishment is deliberately brought about by some superhuman agency. This is against the definition of the opponents of PSA who restrict retribution to purely extrinsic and voluntarily and not part of a cause-and-effect sequence. Williams also highlights that retributive punishment can be imposed for both the acts and the character behind the acts, with the acts serving as evidence of the character. Finally, Williams highlights that punishment can be both personal and retributive in nature, as in the case with God’s judgement. There is no antithesis between the two – one can be in a non-relationship with Christ and that non-relationship can be seen as retributive punishment as well.

For the second criticism that PSA acts against the doctrine of the Trinity, Williams reminds us of Augustine’s principle that since the Father, Son, and Spirit are inseparable, so they work inseparably. Jesus must not be thought of as purely the object in the atonement, and the Father the subject. Rather, Jesus himself is also the subject (he willingly lays down his life John 10:17-18), and even if his role within the Godhead in atonement is distinguished as the object, he is a willing object. Against the third criticism of individualism, Williams states that PSA in fact operates on a denial of individualism – the ‘guilty individual is not punished for his or her own sins as an individual. Rather, corporate categories are powerfully at work in the historic doctrine of penal substitution’ (p.181). But rather, in Christ our corporate head, as we become members of his body in the mystical spiritual bond between us and Christ, we find our punishment taken on our behalf and forgiveness found. Williams in fact suggests that this understanding of ‘corporate substitution’ will lend itself well in a postmodern culture which holds to ‘a communal accounting of human nature’ (p.183). Against the fourth criticism, Williams uses the idea of ‘Jesus as new Israel’ (as emphasised by N.T. Wright) to show how his whole life exemplified the pattern of PSA - “Jesus is Israel, and he is exiled. Exile is the punishment for Israel’s disobedience, and Jesus takes it on himself as the new Israel. Having borne the penalty for sin, he then rises to life and brings forgiveness.” (p.183). Williams also states that PSA has a cosmic renewal element to it as well – it is precisely because Jesus exhausted the curse of spiritual death that there can be resurrection and new creation. Finally, PSA also leads to moral renewal as Rom 6 so clearly teaches – “we died to sin, how can we live in it any longer?”

In conclusion, Williams states:

“Penal substitution is central because of its explanatory power with regards to the justice of the other models of the atonement. Note that such a claim affirms rather than denies the existence of other models, but it also affirms the centrality of penal substitutionary atonement to them.” (p.188).

In ‘Atonement, Creation and Trinity’ (Atonement), Graham McFarlane affirms that ‘the doctrine of creation provides the backdrop against which our thinking of the cross and the Trinity must be developed’ (p.194). Our understanding of humanity is hence bound up with our understanding of ourselves as relational beings (“we are to the degree we relate” p.195); sin is a manifestation of disordered relating and relationships and hence nothing less than a relational catastrophe; and hence the cross addresses ‘a multilayered network of relational associations it seeks to resolve’ (p.200). It is against this backdrop that McFarlane suggests that what happens on the cross is nothing less than the ‘place where the Lord of creation both covers our sins and stems the consequences of our relational dysfunction’ and he does so out of his initiative, not ours (p.202). Is there a place for justice within this backdrop? Yes, McFarlane proposes, but it is to be placed within the context of the Father’s love (McFarlane states that we must not think of PSA as God does not necessarily need to love but he does need to judge), and we must not think of atonement as primarily a desire for justice; rather, it is the restoration of relationship that is on view. McFarlane states, “divine love reshapes divine justice and does so by going beyond the boundaries established by normal law” (p.204). In line with his ‘relational’ backdrop, atonement for McFarlane is also covered comprehensively not just by Jesus’ death, but also by his incarnation, his life of obedience and his resurrection.

Finally, in ‘The Logic of Penal Substitution Revisited’ (Atonement), Oliver Crisp shows his strength in philosophical theology by examining in detail the logic of PSA. After outlining the assumptions behind PSA and restating the doctrine, Crisp outlines 4 ‘logical’ problems with PSA – i) Whether the doctrine of PSA reduces the love of God to something arbitrary in that God chooses to love only an elect, less than the total number of humanity, on no other basis than that he wills to do so ii) PSA seems to limit God from being able to simply forgive sin iii) Does PSA entail the actual transfer of sin from the sinner to Christ, and not just the transfer of penal consequences of that sin from the sinner to Christ? iv) Does PSA also mean guilt is transferred?

Crisp answers by first stating the PSA means that its proponents have to (or must) allow a concept of legal relaxation that applies to Christ’s atonement i.e. Christ is able to take on the punishment for sin because God decides that Christ’s work satisfies the requirement for sin, and God is willing to accept Christ’s work as a substitute for the sin of those human beings whom Christ came to save. Built into this is also the premise that the legal relaxation of punishment in the case of the atonement is consistent with divine justice. With regards to problem i), Crisp states that the problem is not so much one of penal substitution as a theory of the atonement but the way in which this theory is applied. If the defender of PSA holds onto particular redemption, then an arbitrariness problem does follow. “But a defender of PSA does not need to embrace this conclusion simply because they think PSA is right” (p.221). With regards to problem ii), Crisp suggests that the assumptions behind PSA already weakens the argument – ‘if divine justice is both retributive and inexorable such that God cannot permit forgiveness without punishment or satisfaction, then God cannot simply forgive sin without satisfaction being made’ (p.221). With regards to iii) and iv), Crisp honestly admits that this poses for the proponent of PSA a serious problem. I quote him:

“[…] The central problem with penal substitution remains: it is not possible for the sin and guilt of one individual to be transferred to another individual. […] Perhaps God can relax his justice to the extent that he can accept a vicarious satisfaction of the infinite debt owed by human beings instead of punishing them. If God can do this, it is a legal arrangement that has no obvious parallel in human penal transactions and still appears to be unjust, even if it is not arbitrary. And this problem alone poses serious difficulties for the traditional arguments for penal substitution.” (p.223).

However, Crisp states ‘matters are not as bleak’ as what is suggested. Crisp proposes 2 possibilities. The first is to go for an Anselmian satisfaction theory instead of a penal substitution theory. This ‘is a robust doctrine of atonement that delivers much of what penal substitution promises without some of the more problematic aspects of penal substitution’ (p.223). The other way is to ‘salvage’ the traditional doctrine of PSA by appealing to Augustinian realism, where God ‘constitutes humanity one metaphysical whole for the purposes of the imputation of sin’ (p.224). This calls for a closer examination of the doctrine of union with Christ – not just to see how Union with Christ provides us a way to see the benefits of salvation applied to us; but also how union with Christ can provide a robust doctrine of PSA – a task which I would very much like to take up in the future!

Thinking Deeper on Penal Substitutionary Atonement 2

In this post, I will attempt to summarise the key points from some of the essays from The Atonement Debate and The Glory of The Atonement which explore the biblical foundation or basis of PSA.

First up is Ian Howard Marshall’s ‘The Theology of the Atonement’ (Atonement). Marshall begins helpfully by suggesting four views that can be held about PSA (p.50):

• The principle of PSA does not figure in the NT at all

• It is only one of the pictures, metaphors, or analogies used in the NT to express the significance of the death of Jesus Christ. Some might argue that in this case it is of lesser importance or even dispensable

• It occurs to such an extent that it is not only indispensable but also the most important

• It is the underlying principle present in all the others and the factor that makes them cohere.

Marshall contends that though terms like ‘penal’ and ‘anger’ and ‘appeasement’ are open to misunderstanding, when properly understood, they express the heart of the matter (p.51). This is because ‘the reality of final judgement as the active response of God to human sin is an absolutely central part of the predicament from which sinners need to be saved’ (Ibid.) Marshall suggests that such a picture of judgement and condemnation is conveyed by the complex network of terminologies such as punishment, vengeance, wrath, judgement, and destruction and death found throughout the NT. This teaching of judgement and condemnation ‘cannot be pushed to one side as being less important than the other aspects of human sin and need’ (p.53); neither should wrath and judgement be made something impersonal and mechanistic rather than the personal reaction of the living God. He states: “To deny that God feels negatively about sin is a denial of the personal character of God, who reacts to evil that ruins his creation and destroys his relationship with his creatures.” (p.54) Marshall then contends a step further that the NT uses this kind of language about God’s judgement and wrath because he is holy (or righteous) and loving, two irreducible facets of the character of God. Citing the work of P.T. Forsyth, Marshall contends that the holiness of God must figure centrally in any doctrine of the atonement, and that at the cross, holiness is divinely satisfied once for all. Marshall then moves on to ask a further question – even if PSA is clearly present as one NT understanding of the death of Christ, is it principal and determinative? Marshall answers this question by stating how the death of Christ is portrayed in biblical terms in the NT – sacrifice, curse, redemption and ransom, reconciliation, and forgiveness (p.59-61). He states:

“It is clear that essentially the same basic principle is expressed in each of these different understandings of the death of Jesus. The principle of one person bearing the painful consequences of sin is the modus operandi of the different understandings of the cross. There are different nuances [...] But the central action, common to them all, is God doing something in Christ that involves the death of Christ, who bears our sins and the painful consequences of them. Christ’s sacrifice saves us from exclusion from the kingdom of God. The term “penal substitution” appropriately expresses this process.” (p.61).

I found Marshall’s essay to be very helpful in thinking about PSA from the biblical evidence. Without zooming into specific passages (due to lack of space), Marhsall paints broad strokes from the canvas of the NT, with a clear methodology outlining and leading to his conclusion. His book which explores these issues at a wider depth, Aspects of the Atonement: Cross and Resurrection in the Reconciling of God and Humanity (Milton Keynes: Paternoster, 2007) will certainly be worth getting.

Christopher Wright explores atonement in the OT in his essay of the same title (Atonement). With broad strokes similar to Marshall, he highlights the problem or predicament as described in the OT under 8 brilliant headings: A relationship that is broken: the relational aspect; The disturbance of shalom: the social aspect; Rebellion against authority: the covenantal aspect; Guilt that necessitates punishment: the legal aspect; Uncleanness and pollution: the ritual aspect; Shame and disgrace on oneself and/or on God: the emotional aspect; An accumulating burden: the historical aspect, and Death: the final aspect. This leads to his conclusion that atonement language is one part of this “putting right”, but the solution requires more than just a satisfaction of the penal or legal aspect of the problem. The other interesting point raised is that regarding the purpose or function of the levite sacrifices – are they expiatory or propitiatory? Wright states ‘both’. He states, “Putting things right, then, includes both a God-oriented and a human-orientated dimension. Sacrifice both cleanses the worshipper and “soothes” the wrath of God.” (p.77). Lastly, Wright also states correctly that ‘the language of sacrificial substitution and vicarious sin-bearing runs through Isaiah 53 unmistakeably’ (p.80).

The third essay is that by Steve Motyer ‘the Atonement in Hebrews’ (Atonement). Motyer begins by stating his conclusion – that ‘penal substitution does not provide a useful summary of Hebrews’ teaching about the atonement, and that Hebrews does indeed say different things about what Jesus did for us on the cross – things that are truly glorious and worship-raising but are not penal substitution’ (p.136). Motyer contends instead that Hebrews presents a picture of the death of Jesus as Jesus who shares in our suffering (with death as its supreme expression), and who because of that, becomes the High Priest who attains perfection and brings his people with him, i.e. a ‘representative leading us to perfection over death’ view of the atonement. While providing an interesting argument, Motyer has one fundamental flaw in his methodology – he assumes a strong discontinuity between the OT and the NT, so much so that he states that ‘the sacrifice of Christ is different from those of the old covenant. This means that we cannot use the Old Testament to explain what God was doing in Christ’ (p.139). Motyer’s presupposition has blinded him to what seems like a clear evidence that the purpose of the writer of Hebrews was not so much to show the discontinuity of Jesus from the OT sacrificial type, but more to show the continuity, and in fact beyond the continuity to show Jesus as the final fulfilment.

Overall, where does this lead us? I hope it is clear that PSA does have a firm biblical warrant or basis from the Scriptures as one way of presenting the atoning death of Jesus. The question is how central or key is this particular way of understanding Jesus’ death? Strange enough, this question does not seem to be the question opponents of PSA are contending against. Rather, they seem determined to keep PSA out of the picture altogether (position 1 under Marshall’s proposal). As what Garry Williams highlighted, this is ironic since opponents of PSA often call for a more ‘multicoloured’ view of the cross, but yet it is they who reduce the historical diversity by rejecting one major model. But agreeing that PSA has biblical warrant as one of the ways of viewing Jesus’ death is but the bare minimum. We can go further than that. As what Marshall suggested, there is evidence across the biblical canvas to suggest that PSA expresses the heart of the matter. Perhaps what is needed is an acknowledgement that we should not speak of discrete ‘models’ of the atonement, but rather we should speak of different aspects of the one atonement, and try to see how these aspects cohere and relate to one another and whether any one aspect of the atonement rightly organises or illumines or takes precedence over the others.

Thinking Deeper on Penal Substitutionary Atonement 1

September has been spent reading and thinking deeper on Penal Substitutionary Atonement (PSA)– mainly from essays of two books on the subject, The Atonement Debate: Papers from the London Symposium on the theology of atonement (ed. Derek Tidball, David Hilborn, & Justin Thacker; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2008), and The Glory of the Atonement (ed. Charles E. Hill & Frank A. James III; Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 2004).
I hope to, in the following posts, address some of the issues. We begin with objections to PSA.

Steve Chalke in ‘The Redemption of the Cross’ (Atonement) presents why he is against PSA. Incidentally, the current debate on PSA was ‘revived’ in part by Chalke’s The Lost Message of Jesus. Biblically, Chalke argues that PSA does not fit comfortably the ‘multicoloured rather than monochrome’ presentation of the theology of the atonement in the New Testament (though he admits there is substitution in the atonement, just not of a penal nature). In one portion of the essay, Chalke candidly states his difficulty with PSA:
“The greatest theological problem with penal substitution is that it presents us with a God who is first and foremost concerned with retribution for sin that flows from his wrath against sinners. The only way for his anger to be placated is in receiving recompense from those who have wronged him, and although his great love motivates him to send his Son, his wrath remains the driving force behind the need for the cross.” (p.39)
Historically, Chalke (quoting Joel Green and Mark Baker) argues that supporters of PSA have tended to “read back” modern views of PSA onto ancient texts or writings of the church fathers or early Christian writers to bolster their claims - the most famous example of which is the work of Anselm of Canterbury. Culturally, PSA fosters violence (“Penal substitutionary theory betrays Jesus’ attempt to root out the tendency of religion to lead to violence by inventing a theology of his death that is in direct opposition to his teaching”, p.41), and reflects ‘the 19th and 20th century culturally dominant values of individualism, autonomy and consumerism’. Pastorally and ethically, PSA seems to offer instant forgiveness without challenging basic day-to-day moral behaviour (ibid.) For Chalke, the best idea or concept that helps capture the story of salvation lies very closely to the Christus Victor view . He states in closing:
“It is Easter Sunday, not Good Friday, that shows the new kingdom in all its glory and God’s love in all its fullness. On the cross, Jesus does not placate God’s anger in taking the punishment for sin but rather absorbs its consequences and, as three days later he is raised, defeats death. It is the resurrection which finally puts the Victor in Christus Victor!” (p.44)

Another essay heading in the same direction is that of Joel Green ‘Must we imagine the atonement in penal substitutionary terms? Questions, caveats and a plea’ (Atonement). Green begins by referring to the Apostles’ Creed – how though the place of the cross is vitally important, the Creed remains silent when it comes to the more specific question of how Jesus’ death is salvific. This means, as Green proposes, that ‘one can inhabit the land of Christian orthodoxy, classically defined, without embracing a particular theory of the atonement, be it the now-regnant penal substitutionary model or some other’ (p.154). Green also states his view that mere or more biblical exegesis only will not solve the question. Rather, ‘larger issues are operating’ (p.155). Green’s contention against PSA is that it ‘strips Jesus’ death from its historical context in the Roman world and from its narrative context in the Gospels. Theologically, the model of penal substitutonary atonement eclipses the historical particularity of Jesus’ crucifixion, resulting in a serious deficit of interest in the incarnation and in Jesus’ human life and mission’ (p.159), i.e. PSA seems to advocate a view where only the death of Jesus is important – his incarnation, his obedient and faithful life, and his resurrection are at best sidelined, and at worst ignored. Green then proceeds on to name three questions that arise from biblical exegesis regarding PSA. The first is ‘by what logic can it be assumed that anger is quenched by acting upon it [through PSA]’ (p.160) – in another words, does the transfer of guilt satisfy the demands of justice? (A vital question which Oliver Crisp deals with in his brilliant essay ‘the logic of penal substitution revisited’ in the same volume, which I hope to address later). Secondly, if the Apostle Paul depended on the Old Testament notion of atoning sacrifice, there is no strict connection that the OT idea of sacrifice concerns the appeasement of God’s wrath; or that the appeasement of God’s wrath is the best way to articulate the instrumentality of that atonement (Green here is returning to the ‘expiation’ vs. ‘propitiation’ debate about the nature of OT sacrifices). Thirdly, in response to those who suggest that Rom 3:21-26 builds upon the picture of a God of wrath from Rom 1-2, Green contends that there is nothing to suggest that the wrath of God in Rom 1-2 is vindictive indignation or the anger of divine retribution. Rather, it is God’s divine response to human unfaithfulness. He states, “wicked acts do not stir up the wrath of God but are themselves already the consequences of the active presence of God’s wrath. That is, sinful activity if the result of God’s letting us go our own way, and this letting us go our own way constitutes God’s wrath.” (p.163). Culturally, Green also suggests that PSA is greatly indebted to ‘its incubation in an environment structured around individualism and mechanism’ – ‘individualism’ where we understand the death of Jesus in forensic terms focused on the status of the individual before God; and ‘mechanism’ where we are only satisfied with views of the atonement that clarify “how” in objective, cause-effect relations (p.164-65). In conclusion, Green states, “In short, the model of penal substitutionary atonement provides, at best , no basis for a thoroughgoing soteriology and, at worst, stands in its way.” (p.167).

I refer to these two essays because together, they summarise the main arguments against PSA and show the kind of attacks PSA is subjected under today – from the biblical exegesis front (is PSA a true or even accurate picture of the atonement from the wealth of biblical passages or the whole biblical storyline?); from the logic front (how does PSA work logically? Can it even by transferring guilt actually work in satisfying justice?); from the historical theology front (Does PSA accurately represent the views of the church fathers or early Christian writers?); from the systematic theology front (What is the doctrine of God assumed in the view of PSA or any other view for that matter?); from the ethics front (Does PSA promote ‘cheapened’ Christian living?); and from the cultural and contemporary front (Is PSA flourishing only because of the modern cultural context of individualism we are in? Is PSA still needed and useful in postmodernity?) These are huge questions which I hope to start addressing in subsequent posts.