Week 5: Images of the Atonement
We conclude our series on Open Theism just two weeks prior to the start of Lent by looking at the way we understand the atonement. Which seems appropriate because Lent is all leading up to Jesus’ death and resurrection.
Why did Jesus die?
Scripture gives many images or metaphors to understand the mystery of the atonement—why Jesus died. They are often called “theories” but I prefer “images.” Thinking of them as “theories” suggests that one is true and the others false. But seeing them as metaphors allows us to see each as different facets of a broader, bigger reality. We use metaphors to understand things that are too big, too transcendent to explain in more literal language. And nothing is bigger or more incredible than the mystery of the cross.
Each of these images has biblical support, but often rather than treating them as metaphors they’re taken as literal transactions. The end result can mean that the beautiful mystery is framed in ways that create significant theological problems, especially in the underlying messages they send about God and about humans.
These various images or explanations for the atonement are all trying to answer the question: why did Jesus have to die? If Jesus died to “save” us, what exactly do we need to be saved from? And so these various explanations all begin with different assumptions about what is wrong:
Option #1: God’s wrath against human sinfulness puts us in danger of eternal punishment (hell).
Option #2: Humans need to know God’s love for us.
Option #3: Humanity is trapped and oppressed by spiritual forces beyond our control.
In addition, it is helpful to look at the force or direction of the atonement—who is moved? Who needs to be changed?
God-Directed Images
In two of the most common images the force of the atonement is directed at God, suggesting that it is God who needs to be moved by the cross. A familiar one for Protestants is substitution– the image of a law court, where we are on trial, guilty and ashamed. The evidence is presented, and we are rightly found guilty, yet Jesus steps forward, and takes the penalty. This is the most common image among modern evangelicals as well as the 16th century Reformers. Biblical support for it found in the legal language of verses like Romans 5:16: And the free gift is not like the effect of the one man’s sin. For the judgment following one trespass brought condemnation, but the free gift following many trespasses brings justification. Similar language is found in 2 Cor. 5:21: God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.
Another familiar understanding is satisfaction, which draws on the image of the Old Testament temple system. The very architecture of the Temple– the purple curtain that hid God from the worshippers– reminds us of our separation from God. Once a year the high priest would enter that holy space to offer a sacrifice—a pure and spotless lamb. Which is why, in John 1:36, John the Baptist points to Jesus and says, “behold the Lamb of God!” This image is found in verses like Romans 3:22-25: For there is no distinction, since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood, effective through faith.
Also Hebrews 9: 22, 28: without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness… so Christ was sacrificed once to take away the sins of many people.
These two God-directed images focus on our guilt. And there is some truth there about the brokenness of our world and of our lives. About the ways we fall short of the full, expansive life God has for us.
The problem many find with these two images is what they say about God—and us. Both suggest God’s default position toward us is hostility and anger. They assume the problem that needs to be solved on the cross is that God’s wrath against human sinfulness puts us in danger of eternal punishment. That wrath needs a blood sacrifice in order to be appeased.
This views God’s holiness as so great that God is disgusted by our sinfulness and turns away—until Jesus intervenes and sets us right. That image of God’s wrath can bring more darkness than light. It can raise questions for us about God’s goodness and love. It is far from the image of God we have explored in this workshop– an image of God as most of all defined by incarnational, self-sacrificial love.
Human-directed images
Moral-Influence is an image for the atonement where the force of the cross is directed not toward God, but toward humans. This image builds on the image of a teacher or mentor, and suggests the purpose of atonement is to teach us about God’s love and lead us to repentance. We see this in verses like 1 John 3:16: We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us—and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. Another passage that suggests this is 2 Corinthians 3:18: And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit.
It’s not God who needs changing, but us. This view assumes that the problem with humanity is that we can’t fully comprehend the depth of God’s love, so the cross is the ultimate demonstration of God’s self-sacrificial love, an example for us to follow.
Satan-directed images
But we have other images. Ones where God is not angry at sin, but heartbroken. Where God is not turning away—but rather turning toward us. These are Satan-directed images. In this view, it is not God who needs to be moved to appease or quench their anger, but Satan. Whether you picture Satan as personified in a literal being, or a more generalized force such as Wink’s systems of domination or oppression we discussed last week, the force of the cross is directed there. This is the evil that need defeating– both in our individual lives and hearts but also in the broken systems and powers of this world.
One example of a Satan-directed image is when Scripture calls Jesus’ sacrifice a ransom. The metaphor here is of a slave block, reminding us of John 8:34 where Jesus says, “everyone who sins is a slave to sin.” Behind the brokenness of our lives and our world lie systems of oppression that keep us trapped in self-defeating practices and attitudes. That’s not the way we usually think of sin. We think of sin as freedom, as choosing our own way. But sin is very subversive. We begin in freedom, with a choice—to give in to anger or fear or jealousy or greed. But what we learn, all too quickly, is that what began in freedom soon becomes bondage. We have given our allegiance to the wrong things. And so we find that having begun down a path far apart from life in the Kingdom, we soon find ourselves trapped. Trapped by addiction or fear or shame. On the larger, corporate level, we have seen how these powerful forces are at work to impede justice or reconciliation and keep human beings trapped in oppressive systems.
Hebrews 9:15 is one of several places in Scripture where we see this: For this reason Christ is the mediator of a new covenant… now that he has died as a ransom to set us free from sins. Another is Matthew 20:28: Just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.
This image of the cross as a ransom paid not to appease God, but rather to release us from oppression, suggests that God’s primary disposition toward humanity is not anger, but compassion. It’s not that God is impassive or unmoved by our sin or the systemic injustice of the world. God’s heart is broken by these things.
But God’s default, unchanging stance toward us, toward all of humanity, is not anger, but love. Always love. Jesus’ death is not about appeasing God’s wrath, but about God’s compassionate, sacrificial love coming down to rescue us in the midst of our brokenness.
This biblical image is found in much of our classic Christian literature, including CS Lewis’ The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and the classic story of Les Miserables by Victor Hugo. In the novel, Jean Valjean is a thief who stole some bread to feed his family, was caught and thrown into prison. After nearly 20 years, he is finally released, and yet, even though he is no longer a prisoner, he is still trapped. As a convicted felon, no one would trust him, give him a job, or give him shelter. He was out of prison, but with no way to survive. No way to feed himself. Having once stolen, that long-ago choice now was an identity—he wasn’t just a man who stole something, he was a thief—that was his identity. He was still a prisoner, trapped by his past, and powerless, just as much as he had been in prison.
And then he met a Bishop, who took him in and gave him shelter for the night. But Jean Valjean is a thief—that’s who he’s become, it’s his identity. So he repays the Bishop’s hospitality by knocking him unconscious, stealing his silver, and running away in the middle of the night.
But he is found and captured by the police, who take him to the Bishop. But what happens next is something incredible, something no one, least of all Jean Valjean, ever expected. The Bishop announces to the police that the silver was not stolen—it was a gift—his gift to Jean. He adds silver candlesticks to the gift. For no reason at all, Jean is released, set free.
At the beginning of the story, Jean Valjean is in darkness. He is trapped. Having once stolen in desperation he is now marked and trapped—forever defined by his worst moment. With the gift of the silver candlesticks, the Bishop bought for Jean Valjean a new life—a transformed life. As he hands him the candlesticks he says “now I give you back to God.” And indeed, Jean Valjean is set now on a different trajectory, a different path. His life is changed. No longer marked as a sinner, a thief, he is able to embrace a new identity, his true identity—as a child of God.
The image of ransom is a much different picture of the atonement and of God’s disposition toward us. A picture not of anger but of a God that draws near in compassion and love. It is not God who needs to be moved, but Satan. Whether you picture Satan as personified or being a more generalized force, it is the evil that need defeating– both in our individual lives and hearts but also in the broken systems and powers of this world.
Another, similarly Satan-directed image for the atonement is Victory theory (Christus victor). This was a popular image in the early church. It focuses on Jesus entering into sin and death in order to defeat them. Some picture this as a broken home that is reconciled. I like the image of a “jailbreak” from the game Capture the Flag. In the game, players sneak into enemy territory to try to steal their flag to win the game. If they are caught and tagged, they are taken to “jail” behind enemy lines. There is nothing they can do to be released. They are stuck, trapped.
But then sometimes a player who is on their side will suddenly run into enemy territory. But instead of running toward the flag to win the game, they run into the jail, willingly putting their own freedom at risk to set the prisoners free.
This image can be seen in the powerful words of Colossians 1:13-14 For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. Another description is found in Hebrews 2:14-15: he himself likewise shared the same things, so that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death.
Martin Luther describes it this way: “He is the crucified God. So he knows about suffering. He understands about suffering. He has suffered for us. And he suffers with us. And at the same time he’s made it possible for one day all suffering to be removed. Because on the cross the powers of evil were defeated. Death and demonic powers were disarmed and defeated.”
These powerful verses describe what Jesus has done on the cross as rescuing us not from God’s wrath but rather from places of brokenness and fear– a kingdom of darkness. Rescuing us from systems of oppression and injustice—from racism and homophobia, from abuse and violence. Jesus is then welcoming us into place of mercy, justice, grace– a Kingdom of light
Jesus’ death and resurrection sets us free for an abundant life, not just in a heavenly future– but today. Jesus sets us free for the work for inclusion, justice, and love. Free to live the expansive, abundant life God has for us– right here on earth, today.
Key points of Open Theism
The last four weeks we looked at these key points about Open Theism:
1. Not everything that happens in the world was chosen or directed by God. The future is open to many possibilities.
2. God can make promises about the future because they know what they intend to do.
3. The central, defining characteristic of God is love. We were created IN love, FOR love. But love must be chosen. So God chose to create humans uniquely free, able to choose—or not—love.
4. In order to make room for human freedom, God’s omnipotence and omniscience must be limited. If God overrides our free choices, then we were never really free. So God chose to create a world where there is room for human freedom.
5. God is not controlling—God does not coerce or impose their will on the world. God influences but does not force. God takes risks on human freedom.
6. God is in time, as we are in time, dwelling with us and relating to us.
7. God is moved by what happens in the world and responds accordingly.
8. There is an unseen realm of good and evil agents—whether embodied/personified or spiritual—that impacts what happens here on earth.
Now we can add two more:
9. God’s default stance toward humanity is love.
10. Jesus defeated the power of fear, death and destruction to free us to respond in love.
Our Lord and our Savior,
When everything was dark and it seemed that the sun would never shine again, your love broke through. Your love was too strong, too wide, too deep for death to hold. Your love breaks through our fear, our anxiety, our loneliness, our sickness, our isolation. Your love breaks through with hope. Amen.