Atonement Theology I

“...The problem of salvation...has the problem of atonement at its heart. How does the moral fact of our estrangement from the Holy One become the religious fact of our acceptance by him and our reconciliation to him? The alienation which distorts all the relationships of our existence, but from which God redeems us by participating therein to the uttermost - how are we to picture this? How does this redemptive participation 'work'?” (J.S. Whale, Victor and Victim, p.74)

Over the past few months I have had some conversations over this question with other pastors and looked at some of the requisite articles in the Confession of Faith in a Mennonite Perspective. Apart from a minimally descriptive three-part taxonomy and a brief discussion on the connection between the atonement and the doctrine of salvation, the Confession does not really discuss the atonement at all. However, one aspect comes across clearly. The cross has no transactional dimension to it. Rather, Christ’s death is an exemplary act. “Christ’s suffering without taking revenge gives us an example; we can follow in his steps and live for righteousness.” (Article 8: Salvation: Commentary 3)  

Historically, Mennonites have not seriously engaged in the minutiae of academic theology. Concepts like "the alien work of Christ", "Christus Victor" or "penal substitution" did not become part of their theological vocabulary. Their interests were more pragmatic. One wonders whether perhaps the Anabaptists saw some of the academic heavy lifting having already been done by their erstwhile allies or predecessors. More likely, they saw the futility of the scholastic approaches to theology and ethics and considered them to be spiritual cul-de-sacs, good for nothing but arguments and moral paralysis. Robert Friedmann, in his Theology of Anabaptism, argued that the sixteenth century Anabaptists held to an existential Christianity which refused to split apart faith and life. A. James Reimer has summarized Friedmann’s perspective this way: "A theological system, 'a rational edifice of thought,' would contradict the very nature of such a lived Christianity." ("Anabaptist-Mennonite Systematic Theology" in Mennonites and Classical Theology, p. 186) The more immediate concern of the early Anabaptist/Mennonite leadership was to articulate the implications for living which the saving work of Jesus Christ accomplished, thereby maintaining the unity of faith and life, the subjective nature of the new birth and other aspects of Anabaptist theology.

Perhaps this approach was good for its time but the issues have evolved since the debates of the reformation and its early aftermath. It isn’t the atonement but the God behind the atonement who is under scrutiny. Questions of God's existence and God's nature are now at issue. The 'cultured despisers' of the Church and Christian religion generally have raised serious objections to the God espoused and proclaimed from the pulpits of traditional churches, subsequently rendering the missional value of some atonement models as suspect and counterproductive. The questions of the 21st century North American focus more on the kind of God who stands behind each model or metaphor of the atonement than the atonement itself and whether it is appropriate to acknowledge or worship such a God. Is God a loving God or the supreme tyrant? Would a just God require the death of an innocent victim? How does theology reconcile the holiness of God with the love of God? How do God's wrath and God's grace relate within the atoning act of Jesus Christ? The question is not a simple equation solved by putting some numbers into a formula and working out an answer. It goes far deeper than that. John Whale points out, "There can be no simple abrogation of the wrath of God by the mercy of God." (p.75) What then of the atonement?

A recent Anabaptist/Mennonite theologian has wrestled with questions of this kind and has tried to develop an Anabaptist/Mennonite approach to them. J. Denny Weaver’s The Non-Violent Atonement represents a significant attempt to develop an atonement theology from an Anabaptist/Mennonite perspective. Over the next number of months I hope to address the question of an appropriate atonement theology for the 21st century mission of the Church by looking at a number of recent works on the atonement and commenting on them as I read them. As I read these texts, the paramount issue to consider in judging the success or failure of these works will be their fidelity to the Christian Scriptures. But closely linked will be the answers to the questions: Does this atonement theology take evil seriously? And: Will the demand for justice be accomplished within the framework of this theology?

Anabaptist View of the History of the Church

It is not hard to sympathize with the 16th century Anabaptist impulse to write off more than a thousand years of church history. The Anabaptist reformers looked back to the pre-Constantinian era in which the church as a persecuted diaspora engaged in unprecedented mission activity as a source for inspiration and imitation. In his latest magnum opus, Diarmaid MacCulloch's has written a comprehensive history of  Christianity from its Hebrew origins to its present expansion throughout the developing world. His monumental Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years is a fascinating and yet somewhat dispiriting history of Christianity. It is fascinating in the sense that the history of Christianity is peopled with characters of all kinds, from the merely venal to the pious to the utterly diabolical. All this is the stuff of humanity and humanity is inherently fascinating. From saints to villains, from monks to kings, from women to men, the "rogues' gallery" of the Christian church compares with any other religion. No, the church through the ages described here never was the fellowship of the pure nor the remnant of the righteous no matter what the intentions of pious individuals were. That is not the dispiriting element about MacCulloch's book. What is dispiriting to me is his description of the cynical use of power and position by the crown and ruling class to co-opt the church in their quest for influence, prestige and power. Not only that but then the Church then develops its theology and church government as a way of enlarging its own political, economic and spiritual domination over not only nations and rulers but over the simple peasants who looked to it for spiritual direction and hope. The Church learned its lessons well. MacCulloch's description of the medieval church and the development of sacramental theology to extend the grip of the clergy into every facet of one's life suggests a calculating, power-hungry institution. Even the "heroes" I had in Christian history, Augustine of Hippo, Jerome, Gregory the Great, seemed to have less charity then I remember.

I can well imagine the Anabaptists, the spiritual "step-children" of Luther, Zwingli and Calvin looking at the incredible edifice of the Church and wondering how in God's name that beast grew out of the words and life of Jesus. No wonder there arose the hue and cry to return to the Scriptures. Anabaptists believed that the Scriptures should be read in a thorough-going way in which not only one's spiritual destiny was addressed but also one's life. They wanted not the "half-hearted" readings of the other Reformers which stopped before the level of praxis, leaving ecclesial power still concentrated in the hands of the state and spiritual power in the hands of the clergy. Rather they wanted a deep and wholistic reading which took the claims of Jesus seriously and offered a new vision of the spiritual life, the life of a disciple following Jesus. Of course, the Anabaptists weren't entirely successful either. Their spirituality was not pristine; far from it. But their call to return to the documents of the origins of Christian faith, the Christian Scriptures, was long overdue and it is a call which I maintain still echoes today.