Remythologizing Theology

I've finally just finished reading Kevin Vanhoozer's Remythologizing Theology (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2010) and I hope to be able to provide a summary and review of it at some point in the future. As for now, I'm just part exhilarated and part exhausted by the voluminous and sometimes quite dense writing of Vanhoozer (I wrote some outline notes along the way and they are 26 pages long!). But I thought I'll quote Vanhoozer's final paragraph on what it means to speak and do theology with the Holy God in our midst as a means of inspiring us!

"A divine voice speaks from the burning book: the interpreter stands on holy ground. The appropriate response is not cowering in terror... but the fear-of-the-Lord reflex of the faithful Israelite and covenant servant - Mary's "Let it be to me according to your word" (Lk. 1:38). Terror may be the right response to the unknown, but the name of the God who speaks in Scripture is "the Lord... merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness" (Ex. 34:6). This same Lord is the Author who has emptied - emplotted - himself in our midst, the triune God whose voice breathes out words that create, guide, challenge, console, and complete us. Only the communicating God can help." (p.504)

The Goal of Good Theology

A good, humourous but yet serious reminder from Vanhoozer as to what good theology is all about... or rather, where good theology should lead us to. A good reminder for all aspiring theologians like myself!

"Success in theology is a matter of becoming right with God.

When one stands in right relation to God, all one's other relations are made right too. Knowing ourselves forgiven by God, we are empowered to forgive others. This too is part of our "lived knowledge" of Scripture. Indeed it may be no exaggeration to say that the ultimate purpose of biblical interpretation is to achieve right relationships: with God, with others and with oneself. After all, Christian truth is in the service of Christian love. If I speak with the tongues of Reformers and of professional theologians, and I have not personal faith in Christ, my theology is nothing but the noisy beating of a snare drum. And if I have analytic powers and the gift of creating coherent conceptual systems of theology, so as to remove liberal objections, and have not personal hope in God, I am nothing. And if I give myself to resolving the debate between supra and infralapsarianism, and to defending inerrancy, and to learning the Westminster Catechism, yea, even the larger one, so as to recite it by heart backwards and forwards, and have not love, I have gained nothing.

First philosophies eventually come and go. So do trends in theological method. I cannot predict what the next generation will decide is of first priority and importance.This one thing I do know: that there is no more vital task facing Christians today than responding faithfully to Scripture as God's authoritative speech acts-not because the book is holy but because the Lord is, and because the Bible is his Word, the chief means we have of coming to know Jesus Christ. Those who interpret the Bible rightly - those who look and live along the text, following the written words to the living Word - will have rightly ordered loves and rightly ordered lives. Indeed first theology matters precisely because it is tied up with our first love. The apostle Paul leaves us in no doubt as to either his first theology or his first love: "I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord" (Phil 3:8)"

Taken from First Theology (Nottingham: APOLLOS, 2002), 40-41

'Theodramatic Triangulation' as a Theological Method

What is the nature of theology? Its subject matter? And hence, what is the befitting theological method to employ in doing theology that is appropriate to its nature? For those familiar with the works of Kevin Vanhoozer, one would anticipate his answer, “Theodrama!” In his essay ‘On the very idea of a Theological System’ (p.125-182 in Always Reforming: Explorations in Systematic Theology (ed. A.T.B. McGowan, Leicester: Apollos, 2006)), Vanhoozer considers some of the philosophical and theological difficulties with current theological methods, and provides a genuine attempt to show how theodrama could answer, albeit partially, some of the difficulties.

First, Vanhoozer draws our attention to the difficulties associated with current theological methods which rely on evidentialism and conceptual schemes. Here, he mainly interacts with the work of Donald Davidson, who attacks what he terms as one of the dogmas of empiricism, namely ‘the Kantian notion of conceptual schemes that organise and translate our raw, preconceptual sensory experiences’ (p.155). What Davidson rejects is this dualism of scheme (organising system) and content (that which awaits organisation). In his view, such a scheme-content dualism promotes scepticism (about whether we can actually get to the ‘given’ behind the scheme, or whether we are just getting the scheme itself) and relativism (where meaning and truth is only relative to a certain conceptual scheme). Hence, in Davidson’s view, conceptual schemes actually create a barrier between the subject’s mind – what is ‘in here’ – and the external world – out is ‘out there’ (p.156). Vanhoozer next mentions the work of Bruce Marshall as one who has applied Davidson’s proposal to theology. Marshall states that too much of theology has been done with what he calls an ‘epistemic dependence thesis’ – where theology becomes epistemically dependent on extra-biblical conceptual schemes in order to explain its truths of Christian doctrine (e.g. existentialism, process philosophy, Aristotelianism etc.) Rather, Marshall proposes theology should be done via the ‘epistemic independence thesis’ – where ‘theology must not interpret biblical narratives by means of some conceptual scheme but rather begin by assuming the truth of the biblical narratives as they stand’ (p.157). In another words, instead of explaining the events of the Bible in terms of some conceptual scheme, the events themselves acquire explanatory power with respect to everything else! Who falls into such a content-scheme dualism proposed by Davidson-Marshall? Vanhoozer himself states:

“Not only card-carrying empiricists, but a host of others as well: virtually all post-Kantian philosophers; most postmodernists; modern theologians searching for the right –ism; postliberal theologians who believe we are trapped within incommensurable cultural-linguistic frameworks. Charles Hodge’s approach seems to be another clear example of one who trades on the scheme-content dichotomy by distinguishing the facts (propositions) of the Bible and the laws and theorems (systems) that theologians devise to account for their relation.” (p.156)

Second, having posed the difficulties with the scheme-content dichotomy way of doing theology, Vanhoozer proposes what could be the way forward. He states, “The question before us is whether the subject-object dichotomy is the best way to account for how understanding takes place. This brings us back to Davidson; specifically, to his suggestion that understanding others is a three dimensional affair, a matter of ‘triangulation’.” (p.160) The problem of the subject-object dichotomy is that it either leaves the subject with the contents of his or her own mind only, or it leaves the community with their own conceptual scheme or cultural-linguistic framework only. In both cases, the problem is determining ‘how we can know a scheme is true to the content if we can never get outside our scheme to see the content as it is in itself’ (p.160). Rather, understanding requires three sorts of knowledge: of our own minds, of other minds and of the world. We know what our own words and concepts mean only by triangulating with other language users about our shared world. Triangulation hence coordinates beliefs, words and actions; and understanding arises when two speakers coordinate their beliefs and practices with the world through communicative interaction, through language. Indeed, communicative interaction is the key in triangulation.

Third, having suggested triangulation as a better way of accounting for understanding rather than the subject-object dichotomy, Vanhoozer moves on to take the conceptual step from the notion of general to ‘special’ (in this case theological) triangulation and proposes his main thesis – the best systematic is a matter of theodramatic triangulation with an authoritative script (p.164). He moves to this thesis via various steps. First, the nature or subject matter of theology is theodramatic in nature – it involves God doing and saying things in the world to and for others. Vanhoozer states:

“The Christian gospel is something God both says and does. It is not a philosophy, a system of morality nor an expression of human subjectivity, but a theodrama: God’s words and deeds on the world stage with and for us, especially with respect to creation and redemption as these are summed up in Jesus Christ. […] The theodrama begins with God bespeaking creation. The plot accelerates with God’s promise to Abraham: “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you… and by you all families of the earth shall be blessed’ (Gen 12:2-3). It continues with God making good on his promissio thanks to the missio (sending) of Son and Spirit.” (p.164-65)

And not only is the nature of theology theodramatic in that it involves God saying and doing things, it also involves us humans having speaking and acting parts too. We not only make sense of what God has done but also of what we are to do in order to participate rightly in the action. As Vanhoozer states, “Theology is a human endeavour (the drama of human knowing) that prays to be caught up in a prior divine endeavour (the drama of God making himself known).” (p.165)

Second, theodrama involves triangulation. It is itself an instance of triune triangulation. The way God reveals himself is best not described in terms of the subject-object dichotomy (God is not the ‘object’ of human experience or investigation), but rather communicative interaction. God makes Himself known by what He says and does to us on the world stage. Consider the incarnation as the supreme example of God’s communicative interaction seen in triangulation: ‘the Word speaking words, acting and suffering with and for others, in the world’ (p.165). Theodramatic understanding also requires triangulation, because in understanding, we constantly relate the three sides of ‘what God does in Christ, the Scriptures that present Christ, and the Word-and-Spirit-guided practices of the church, the body of Christ’. Another way of putting it, theodramatic understanding involves triangulating between divine and human action and speech with reality made new in Christ, so that the church today can participate fittingly in the ongoing drama of redemption. Theodramatic triangulation hence involves Word (or Scripture), church and world.

Third, while theodrama involves triangulation, epistemic priority is given to ‘what God says in and through the biblical text’ – it has the privileged place in the triangle. And the Bible has epistemic primacy not because it acts as an epistemic foundation (either a ‘storehouse of facts’ or a deposit of propositional revelation), but because of ‘its nature as the church’s authoritative script, the normative specification for interpreting what God is saying and doing in creation, in the history of Israel, and in Jesus Christ’ (p.168). In another words, the doctrine of Scripture is correctly grasped when viewed not separate but closely related to the events it recounts, displays and enjoins. The Bible is the means and medium of God’s communicative interaction with the church – He speaks ‘in and through’ the Scriptures. And as He speaks ‘in and through’ the Scriptures, two levels of triangulation occurs. The first (Triangulation I) is at the formation of the canon, resulting from the Spirit’s triangulation of language, belief practices and reality – the Spirit leads the human authors into communicative interaction with the mighty acts of God and a true understanding of these acts and the reality it has brought about. The second (Triangulation II) is where the Spirit continues to be active in the contemporary church’s attempt at theological triangulation – the Spirit ministers the truth of the reality brought about by Christ through the inspired biblical discourse to the church in the world today. But Triangulation II is dependent on Triangulation I or (another way of putting it) - canonical triangulation is the norm for ecclesial triangulation. As Vanhoozer states, “While both Scripture and the church’s interpretation are components in the triune economy of communicative action, only the biblical discourse carries epistemic primacy.” (p.172)

Vanhoozer has provided in the essay a genuine attempt to explore the nature of theology and hence the best way of doing theology. Out of his works that I have interacted with so far, he has also provided his most rigorous defence of theodrama as a theological prolegomena in this essay, going all the way down to analytical philosophy in terms of the way language and understanding works and its epistemic implications. While his overall argument is clear, I still have one remaining outstanding question – what is the place Vanhoozer allows for conceptual schemes in his theodramatic triangulation proposal? If he goes all the way with the Davidson-Marshall proposal, then I really do not see how theodramatic triangulation involving communicative interaction can work, because such communicative interaction and exchange also takes place via conceptual schemes (This is also the question I have for Bruce Marshall – how exactly does one allow the ‘narrative emplotment’ of the events in the bible to provide explanatory power to everything without resorting to some form of conceptual scheme? And here is where I confess I will have to read more of Davidson and Marshall). How do we have communicative interaction and understand that communicative interaction without some prior conceptual scheme of sin, salvation, hope, eschatology etc.? If it is the pure distinct subject-object scheme-content dichotomy way of doing theology (where the conceptual scheme stands unbendable and unchangeable to categorise the content) that Vanhoozer is objecting against, then I can understand his polemic and concur that indeed, triangulation involving communicative interaction is a better way of doing theology that is closer to its nature. But if it means a total disregard of conceptual schemes at all, then I really have difficulty seeing how theodrama triangulation works in practice. But there are hints that it is more of the first objection that Vanhoozer is concerned with. Firstly, he states his reservation regarding Davidson’s holism and his way of going beyond realism (p.156 fn. 135). Secondly, he states the purpose of doctrine within theodrama triangulation as ‘direction for the church’s fitting participation in the ongoing drama of redemption as normatively specified in Scripture’. Doctrine, under this definition, must surely involve conceptual schemes and propositional statements, though not being totally exhausted by them. Thirdly, Vanhoozer states in a footnote that ‘his own preference is for a modest, chastened, ‘fallibillist’ foundationalism in which one employs basic beliefs on a provisional basis. We begin not with indubitable foundations but with load-bearing frameworks that from time to time may need adjusting and repair’ (p.152 fn. 125). I would like to think that Vanhoozer’s comment extends to the place of conceptual schemes in theodramatic triangulation discourse – we employ these conceptual schemes on a provisional basis, and as we undergo triangular communicative interaction at all times holding onto the primacy of Scripture – we allow these conceptual schemes to be challenged and changed.

Putting the question aside, all in all, Vanhoozer’s conclusion in this essay captures well his firm conviction why theodramatic triangulation produces a theological method more befitting to its nature and subject matter:

“The way forward is clear: theology must focus not on producing theoretical systems of knowledge but on cultivating disciples who learn and embody practical wisdom. And the best way to do that is to approach the bible not as a knowing subject, but as one who walks the way of Jesus Christ with others, triangulating our position by attending to the Spirit speaking in the Scriptures, to the church’s great performances of the past, and to the church’s situation today.” (p.182)

Moving Beyond the Bible to Theology

I know the very title of this post might discomfort some: “What do you mean by ‘moving beyond’ the Bible? Are we supposed to ever move beyond the Bible?” But this is really the title of a book I’ve just finished reading – Four Views on Moving Beyond the Bible to Theology (ed. Gary Meadors; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2009). In this book, a power packed cast of writers provide their different understandings of how they move from the Bible to theology or how they take the words or message of the Bible and apply it to modern day contexts and situations which the writers of Scripture never had to contend with - the most popular situations as presented in the book being the issue of abolition of slaves, women teaching, and (as presented by one contributor) transsexuality.


The first contributor is Walter Kaiser with the Principalising model, where Kasier states that we in fact don’t have to move beyond Scripture in the sense of taking the words of Scripture off on some trajectory to enable it to meet our present day contexts and situations. Rather, Scripture itself already has to full capacity to address these issues. What is needed, rather is to move through what he calls the ‘Ladder of Abstraction’ to sieve out and state ‘the general principle that embodies what is seen in the specificity, culture, and times of the text’ and then to ‘apply (that principle) to our day in corresponding specifics that elaborate on the same general principle’ (p.50). In a somewhat convoluted essay, the second contributor Daniel M. Doriani presents his Redemptive-Historical model, which seems like the standard grammatical-historical method, except that a much greater weight and attention is given to the location of the passage within salvation history. In another words, it is biblical theology resulting in a stronger Christocentric focus. So far so good, except that at this point Doriani introduces other factors such as allowing narrative to have its say in directing us in theology and ethics (p.87); casuistry (p.100), and asking ‘questions the Bible endorses’ (p.102), which really serve to confuse rather than illuminate his presentation. Third up is Kevin Vanhoozer, who presents his (curtains up and to no surprise) Drama of Redemption model. In this model, Christian living is seen as a fitting participation in God’s Theodrama, which He has graciously invited us to be part of. The Bible, in this case, serves as the script for a fitting participation, but yet a fitting participation is not just merely performing out the Script as it is, but rather it requires improvisation – which involves knowing how a portion of the Script fits in with the wider whole (what Vanhoozer calls ‘canon sense’: “To read with canon sense [...] is to read figurally or typologically, which is to say with the conviction that there is an underlying theodramatic consistency and coherence that underlies and unifies the whole.” (p.180)); and to see and learn from the previous performances of other saints and to understand the context ones is in (what Vanhoozer calls ‘catholic sensibility’ p.181). In another words, a faithful performance is when one performs or inhabits not so much the ‘world behind the text’ or even ‘the world of the text’, but rather ‘the world in front of the text’ or ‘the world implied by the text’. In another words, a fitting performance is when one cultivates theodramatic vision – when we ‘move beyond the script and become faithful performances of the world it implies by cultivating minds nurtured on the canon’, when our minds, hearts and imagination are trained and disciplined to think, desire, see – and then do – reality as it is in Jesus Christ’ (p.170). It is hence not surprising that doctrine, for Vanhoozer is largely formative – to so shape our thinking and imagination that we become people who habitually make good theodramtic judgements as to who God is, what He is doing, and hence what we must do in response (p.178). The final contributor is William Webb, who presents his Redemptive-Movement model, which is mainly concerned to find the ‘trajectory or logical extension of the Bible’s (or passage’s) redemptive spirit that carries Christians to an ultimate ethic’ (p.217). Due to this model’s frequent association with other more ‘out there’ hermeneutical theories which involve launching the meaning of the passage off on a trajectory which often ends up where the reader’s whims and fancies lead them to, Webb has to spend a proportionate time responding to the misconceptions and defending his model. Webb does not deny the NT as final and definitive revelation, but ‘understanding the NT as final and definitive revelation does not automatically mean that the NT contains the final realisation of social ethics in all of its concrete particulars’ (p.246). In another words, I think it is the ethical application of the passage that Webb allows for a trajectory to an ‘ultimate ethic’, one which may or may not be seen within the pages of the Bible itself. What makes this book worth it’s price is an additional three reflections from Mark Strauss, Al Wolters (who provides an interesting argument for general revelation which together with special revelation helps us to move ‘beyond the bible’ in these contentious issues p.317-19), and Chris Wright (who suggests that a further perspective that needs to be taken into account is that of a missional hermeneutics – since Scripture is about mission or since Scripture is to be read with a missional hermeneutic, then the direction and paradigm in which we go beyond Scripture in thinking through issues must also have a missional direction).

I conclude with three comments. Firstly, it is comforting and encouraging to know that all four writers are thoroughly convinced of the nature and authority of Scripture. While they may be convicted to varying degrees over the sufficiency and perspicuity of Scripture , all four writers recognise the need to submit oneself to the Word of God. Perhaps the deeper question discussed here is not Is Scripture authoritative but rather How is Scripture authoritative? Secondly, the answer to the How question varies, but each polarity is not without its own difficulties. For example, Kaiser’s principlising model states that there is no need to move beyond Scripture – Scripture contains (timeless?) principles that are more than sufficient to answer any situation in any context (he shows this by considering women leadership, euthanasia, abortion, stem cell research, slave abolition etc.), but the deeper question that remains (as pointed out by the other contributors) is whose principles? i.e. what is there to guide me to ensure that I draw out the right principle, or what is there to prevent two people from drawing out contrary principles? Kaiser would answer, “Solid exegesis!”, but the exegesis of certain passages can be tricky at times and not as simplistic as Kaiser makes it out to be (for e.g. his exegesis of 1 Tim 2:12 to justify his egalitarian position). As David Clark (To know and love God) puts it, “principlizing obscures the fact that any articulation of the allegedly transcultural principles still reflects the culture of the translators.” There is no such thing as propositions free from cultural bias or worldview (p.276). On the other polarity, someone like Webb faces the same criticism. How do we determine the ‘ultimate ethic’ of the text? Webb would answer, “By the redemptive spirit of the text!”, but whose spirit? Isn’t it of the reader at the end of the day? Or the Holy Spirit? Either way, Webb (as Strauss points out) runs the risk of being unable to provide a definite answer by labelling “meaning” as ‘something not part of the human author’s communicative intent as expressed through speech-acts (p.290). Even Vanhoozer cannot escape this difficulty. What is the measure by which we use to define faithful performance? What is the measure of faithful improvisation? (Questions asked by Wolters p.316) Though I think Vanhoozer provides us a hint of his answer in his essay - It is the rule of love, the way of wisdom. A faithful performance, a fitting improvisation is one which corresponds to the dramatis personae himself – God as revealed in Jesus – full of love, full of wisdom. As Vanhoozer himself states, “The way forward is the way of wisdom – to walk in such a manner that one corresponds in one’s whole being-in-act to God’s prior-in-act. The wise disciple is the one who discerns, deliberates, and does the truth, goodness, and beauty that is the love of God in Jesus Christ.” (p.186). My third and final comment is this book is really a mistitle. I was expecting to learn how one can move beyond the Bible to Theology, thinking doctrine and systematic theology. But that does not seem to be the main emphasis here. Instead, a more accurate title should be ‘Moving Beyond the Bible to Ethics’.

Doctrine as Temporal and Doctrine as Drama

In chapter 4 of The Hermeneutics of Doctrine , Thiselton explores the nature of doctrine as temporal and doctrine as drama (here, ‘temporal’ does not mean temporary, but rather it refers to the sense of temporality that is embedded within doctrine, i.e. the recognition that ‘God interacts with the world through actions marked by purpose, duration, periodicity, tempo, and eventfulness’ (p.64, emphasis his). In another words, meaning and truth are not “timeless” in relation to God). Thiselton states:

“Doctrines evolve often by responding to new challenges, [..] or in the context of changing languages or situations. But they also assume a living, dynamic, ongoing form, because God is the living, dynamic, ongoing God. If doctrine reflects the nature of God and derives ultimately from God, doctrine will be no less “living” and related to temporality than God, who acts in human history.

[...] The particularity, contingency, and temporality of hermeneutical inquiry remain not only appropriate but also necessary for exploring the truth-claims, meaning, and life-related dimensions of Christian doctrine. To say that doctrine is derived ultimately from God, far from suggesting that doctrine inhabits an abstract, timeless, conceptually pure domain, underlines the temporal and narrative character of its subject matter.” (p.63, emphasis his)

This sets the stage for Thiselton to go on exploring the concept of doctrine as narrative or drama. Borrowing from Ricoeur, Thiselton suggests that the coherence and continuity of narrative (or in this case, drama) depends on the three functions of expectation, attention, and memory. “Christian doctrine relates closely to memory of God’s saving acts in history; attention to God’s present action in continuity with those saving acts; and trustful expectation of an eschatological fulfilment of divine promise.” (p.65, emphasis mine) Hence, the appropriateness of the drama metaphor as a way of capturing the nature and effects of doctrine.

The following quote where Thiselton shares the similar viewpoints between himself and Vanhoozer captures the appropriateness of doctrine as drama:

“We share a common concern about the importance of doctrine and its current tragic neglect or apparent inability to inspire; a common emphasis on doctrine as practices of life, also expressed in worship; a common conviction about the foundations of the biblical writings defined in terms of canon, but also its continuity with an ongoing, developing tradition; a common belief that covenantal promise stands at the heart of divine communicative action and Christian theology, and that this grounds the currency of divine speech-action in the world; a common understanding of doctrine as formation that generates habits that generate performance; and the temporal logic of narrative embodying a coherent plot. The application of the term drama allows the dynamic and tensive nature of doctrine to remain prominently in view.” (p.77, emphasis mine)

A mouthful there... but good stuff!

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