Rethinking Atonement

Most evangelical presentations of the good news of Jesus Christ explain the purpose of His death on the cross as taking the punishment for our sins, so that we can be forgiven. Put another way, Jesus paid the debt we could not pay, settling our account with God. Or in the words of a much-loved hymn, "On that cross, as Jesus died / The wrath of God was satisfied". I even made similar assertions in an opinion column I wrote for the K-State Collegian as a sophomore in college.

Although this doctrine is viewed as inviolable and essential by many Christians, and has roots in the feudal world of Anselm of Canterbury (1033-1109), it was not explicitly stated until the Reformation recast salvation as a legal transaction in keeping with its emphasis on the rule of law. But this was neither the first or the last word on this subject, much less the only one; other theories of the atonement include medical substitutionary atonement, Christus Victor, the Ransom theory, governmental and moral influence.

I was raised unaware of or unfamiliar with these other views. But as I read uber-Reformed theologian R.C. Sproul's allegory The Prince's Poison Cup to my children, I was startled by an incongruity: when the people who have rejected the King build their own City of Man, in the center is a fountain flowing with poisonous liquid representing... the King's wrath. But how did the wrath of the King, whom they left, get into their own city? Why would they fill their own fountain with it? Would it not more logically represent their own wrath?

Later, I attempted to defend penal substitutionary atonement in an online discussion group about racial reconciliation, only to realize that I no longer felt bound to believe it. I certainly don't consider Luther or Calvin to be heretics, but I am convinced their legal interpretation is wrong.

First, it is not Biblical. That is not to say, necessarily, that it is un-Biblical. Rather, no single verse or passage of the Bible teaches any aspect of penal substitutionary atonement ("PenSA"). Not one passage connects the Cross with God’s wrath; Romans 1 mentions God’s wrath three times, but the extensive discussion of the atonement later in this letter references it not even once. Not one passage states, even indirectly, that “God killed Jesus on the cross” – unless you count Isaiah 53:10, “it was the Lord's will to crush him and cause him to suffer,” but neither this wording nor the context teach anything so direct. Not one passage explicitly states that it was God who punished Jesus, or that Jesus' death satisfied God's wrath. Rather, Peter’s speeches in Acts 2 and 3 draw a clear distinction between God’s actions and man’s actions, pinning responsibility for Jesus’ death entirely upon the latter; other passages (such as Acts 7, 1 Thessalonians 2) draw a similar distinction. At the very least, it is hubris to make a doctrine a fundamental article of the faith when it lacks such direct Biblical support. Nearly all the sub-claims associated with PSA are, at best, extrapolations from the Bible that rely upon certain theological or philosophical presuppositions.

Second, the key presupposition upon which PenSA rests – that forgiveness is impossible without punishment – violates both the character of God, as revealed in the Bible, and the ethic prescribed for all followers of Jesus. From Genesis to Revelation, there are examples of God forgiving without punishing, and we are commanded to do the same. Restitution – the restoration of what was lost to someone from whom it was taken – is a vital part of the Biblical understanding of justice. But to demand a punitive payment from someone – anyone, whether the perpetrator or not – as a prerequisite for forgiveness, is not forgiveness at all. Although interpreted in various ways, many of which are benign, the doctrine of PenSA contributes to an obsession with legalistic punishment that is manifested in both mass incarceration and opposition to so-called “amnesty” for undocumented immigrants.

Third, although the Bible teaches us mysteries that are a-rational, such as the Trinity, it teaches nothing that is irrational. Reason alone cannot yield truth, but reason is never to be discarded. The fundamental logic of PenSA violates all notions of justice, whether human or divine, and is irrational. To punish an innocent person does NOT satisfy justice, nor does it absolve the guilty one!

Fourth, PenSA confuses guilt with punishment. Even if Jesus were to take our punishment in our place, how would he take our guilt? All standard analogies of PenSA presume that punishment absolves guilt. But in the courtroom logic of atonement, even if someone else volunteers to take the punishment for a crime which I committed, I remain a convicted felon. Herein lies the problem at the root, not only of PenSA, but of all understandings of the atonement:

How can I be found not guilty of a crime which I did commit, and yet justice still be upheld?

There is only one way: if the victim refuses to press charges. Thus, in a very literal and non-mysterious sense, taking my evil upon their body – or possessions, or reputation, or emotions – and suffering for my sin. If I murdered someone, they would have to return from the dead to do this.

That is what Jesus did. As the perfect man, he took the worst of humanity’s hatred – and greed and envy and all else – for his fellow man. As God, he received all of mankind’s irrational rage against its Creator. He suffered our sin as the victim of it. We killed Jesus on the cross. We murdered Him. Before dying, He forgave us. Then, He returned from the dead and took no retribution.

Of course, as the Bible repeatedly emphasizes, God’s providence arranged all of this to happen. But it wasn’t God’s wrath that Jesus suffered on the cross – it was ours. It wasn’t Jesus’ unjust punishment itself that absolved our guilt, but His forgiveness and resurrection. His suffering and death was not an arbitrary price paid to an angry third party, but inherent to the nature of our redemption.