Atonement, the Prodigal Son and ‘Why So Serious?’

cross_2There is no doctrine so entrenched in Christianity as that of the Substitutionary Atonement (also known as ‘Vicarious Atonement’ or the ‘Penal Substitution Theory’). In simple terms, this is the teaching that, on the cross, God’s wrath against sinful humanity was absorbed by Jesus—that the payment for sin was made to God by Christ; that this blood sacrifice appeased a holy God and saves us from certain (eternal) condemnation/torment.

This is a major (or may I say MAJOR) theme in many Christian circles, more so amongst fundamentalists. When I was a student at a leading fundamentalist university, this was hammered home to us in every sermon, in most classes, in many prayer meetings. It was not ‘a’ but ‘THE’ central tenet of The Faith and demanded a serious analysis, on a regular basis, of one’s place in the overall scheme of sin and salvation.

And serious it was. One would be out of line to show a smile in a church service or during the singing of a hymn. People had been expelled at this university for daring to treat a song about Jesus in a ‘frivolous’ manner. (see the video that got two students expelled and a third a severe reprimand here.)

And so they sing solemnly, seriously, it seems with a burden that is weighing them down. (Have a look at these two videos of a ‘performance’ of a well-loved (fundamentalist) hymn here and here.)

Here are the words for those of you following along at home (the sheet music is here.):

His robes for mine: O wonderful exchange!
Clothed in my sin, Christ suffered ‘neath God’s rage.
Draped in His righteousness, I’m justified.
In Christ I live, for in my place He died.

Chorus:
I cling to Christ, and marvel at the cost:
Jesus forsaken, God estranged from God.
Bought by such love, my life is not my own.
My praise-my all-shall be for Christ alone.

His robes for mine: what cause have I for dread?
God’s daunting Law Christ mastered in my stead.
Faultless I stand with righteous works not mine,
Saved by my Lord’s vicarious death and life.

His robes for mine: God’s justice is appeased.
Jesus is crushed, and thus the Father’s pleased.
Christ drank God’s wrath on sin, then cried “‘Tis done!”
Sin’s wage is paid; propitiation won.

His robes for mine: such anguish none can know.
Christ, God’s beloved, condemned as though His foe.
He, as though I, accursed and left alone;
I, as though He, embraced and welcomed home!

(His Robes for Mine by Chris Anderson and Greg Habegger ©2008 ChurchWorksMedia.com All rights reserved.)

Here is an insight into Chris Anderson’s understanding that has prompted this composition:

“Verse 3 focuses on the grand doctrine of propitiation, the fact that God’s wrath was not merely deflected from us by Christ, but was rather absorbed by Him in our place. Jesus Christ bore the infinite wrath of God against sin, satisfying God’s wrath and enabling sinners to be forgiven—and justly so. Isaiah 53:10-11 describes it this way: God looks on the travail of Christ’s soul and is satisfied by it. His wrath has been exhausted on Christ. The doctrine of propitiation is taught Isaiah 53, Romans 3:25; 1 John 2:2 and 4:10, et al.” (source: http://blogs.mbu.edu/praisemen/songs/his-robes-for-mine-authors-thoughts)

I have a HUGE problem with the language used (and the theology implied) in this song: ‘Christ suffered ‘neath God’s rage,’ ‘Jesus is crushed, and thus the Father’s pleased,’ and ‘Jesus forsaken, God estranged from God’ among others.

But then I realise that this comes from that classic Biblical story:

A man who had two sons. One demanded his share of the inheritance and then went off and spent it, in a far country, on riotous and loose living. The father, enraged with a fiery anger against that son, took his brother and turned him over to the torturers and finally the executioner. Only when the elder brother had died, paying the penalty that the father demanded for the younger one’s disobedience, was the father able to open up his heart in love and welcome the younger son home and once again grant him the blessings of being a part of the family.

No, I don’t have that story in my Bible either. That, on so many levels, goes against my understanding of God. And if we understand Jesus to be the most accurate depiction we have of God in Scripture, then we must accept that God is loving and compassionate. He would forsake his own Son only as much as he would forsake us, his children. He would not demand a penalty to be paid vicariously any more than the father in the real parable would have demanded one son pay for the sin of another. That is a primitive view–a tribal understanding–of God rooted in a culture set in ancient history and grounded in stories handed down from generation to generation over fires and in marketplaces.

Many argue that this understanding of what took place at the cross is helpful to Christians in certain situations. Scot McKinght in his book A Community Called Atonement illustrates the many theories of atonement (Substitutionary Atonement being one) as being like a set of golf clubs where one club (say, a wedge) may be good for a particular situation (like, for example, if you land your ball in a sand trap), but not practical or helpful in others (as in driving). While this may be true in a metaphorical or illustrative sense (though this may be open to interpretation as well),  I don’t believe it is very helpful in explaining anything of the nature of God or God’s interaction with humanity.

The problem is that we have ‘Set the members of the Trinity against each other—as when the Son is described as the object of the Father’s wrath on the Cross. Others stretch the concept to charge that penal substitution language amounts to “divine child abuse”—where an angry, cosmic Father beats up his meek and helpless Son—hardly the biblical imagery of the relationship of the Father and the Son.’ (source: Christianity Today) God becomes a deity with a schizophrenic tendency or bipolar disorder (and, as we know, without proper medication, either one of these illnesses renders an individual quite unstable.)

Joking aside, if we accept that God is love—If we accept the story of the Prodigal Son to be an illustration of how that love works itself out in reality—then we must not be so hasty to take on the ‘traditional’ view of atonement as fact. Certainly, it can be argued, some of the New Testament authors seemed to believe this was so. But a look at Jesus and his revelation of who the Father is cannot be dismissed. Rather, it should be the cause of much joy, celebration and excitement: All are welcomed—sinners and saints, elder and younger brothers, tax-gatherers and Pharisees—not because Jesus satisfied an angry God, but that God has sought and found us and brought us into the embrace of love and grace.  Welcome home!

What Grace Does

This meditation came in today from Richard Rohr and I felt I must share it:

A friend of mine shared this story with me. An angel was walking down the street carrying a torch in one hand and a pail of water in the other. A woman asked the angel, “What are you going to do with the torch and with the pail?” The angel said, “With the torch, I am going to burn down the mansions of heaven, and with the pail, I’m going to put out the fires of hell. Then we shall see who really loves God.”

That’s what grace does; it empowers those who really love and trust God, and frankly leaves all others in the realm of missed opportunity. Our image for that missed opportunity has been hell later, but it is primarily and clearly emptiness now. In that deepest sense, there are indeed many people in hell right now, and there are also many people tasting heaven in this world. But Divine Love never relents, and never stops urging, expanding, and appealing. Why would it stop after our death?

Only the theme of grace is prepared to move religion beyond the bad and tired story line of reward and punishment. Up to now, we have largely mirrored ego-based culture instead of transforming it. We need grace to reform religion and to recapture the gospel. Only the theme of grace can move us from a religion of mere requirements (that is all about counting and measuring) to a religion of Divine Abundance which deeply transforms human consciousness (Ephesians 4:23-24).

As long as we remain inside of a win-lose script, Christianity will continue to appeal to low-level and self-interested morality and never rise to the mystical banquet that Jesus offers us. It will be duty instead of delight, “jars of purification” (John 2:6) instead of 150 gallons of intoxicating wine at the end of the party (John 2:7-10)!

– Richard Rohr, adapted from Things Hidden: Scripture as Spirituality, pp. 158-159

Yes, God Can! (Questions that shouldn’t need to be asked)

We say “God can do anything.”
But God doesn’t do all the good we expect: planes crash, ferries capsize, people die of common illnesses, resources aren’t made available for our neighbours outdoors, and refugees are imprisoned.
We say “With God nothing is impossible.”
But then put limits on God’s power and ability. After all, how could God forgive Hitler? How could God love that rapist-murderer? And how could God save anyone who doesn’t believe in Jesus or who was born into the wrong religion?
We say “God is king over all creation.”
imageBut then we assign ourselves the task to make the rules other people must keep in order to please God: “You mustn’t swear. You must attend Church. You must read your Bible. You must not think about sex. You must disapprove of gays, abortionists, socialists, Catholics, liberal politicians, or (insert profession, people-group or minority here).”
Pope Francis says that Jesus saves all, even if they don’t seek him.
Can God do that?
Rob Bell seems to believe there will be millions more in God’s kingdom than we would ever suspect–that we will be surprised at the reach of God’s love.
Can this be true?
Can God move in ways we cannot imagine? Yes! Yes! Hallelujah, YES!
Can God save anyone simply because of God’s instinct of love? Yes! (I believe this is called “grace.”)
Can God refuse to be limited by our human understanding of Divinity or our interpretations of revelation? Yes!
Could Pope Francis, Gandhi, the Buddha, Martin Luther King Jr., Nelson Mandela and St Paul all have a similar underlying understanding of God that ruthlessly opposes any attempt at figuring God out or assigning a role statement to the One-who-cannot-be-contained?
Yes!
Could it be that now we see as in a mirror, dimly? Could it be that worship of the Bible or our group’s way of seeing it is more important to us than letting God be God? Could it be possible that one day we will look back and be astounded by how small our imagined God was?
Would it be too far-fetched to assume that, when all the dust settles after all the wars are fought, that, in the end, love really is the highest aspiration of all creation and this love indeed has won?
I dare you to believe that this is the way it could be.

Change

“Perhaps the greatest obstacle to human transformation isn’t our inability to change but the unwillingness of others to believe our transformation is possible.” – Philip Gulley

I overheard someone recently talking about a man I once knew. They were describing him as a wonderful man, generous, humble, caring, and just an all-’round nice guy. When I discovered about whom they were speaking, I was astounded. Somewhere in the distant past I remembered him being a heavy drinker, able to swear up a storm (when drunk) but otherwise (eerily) aloof. I had recollections of gossip that had been circulating about the person in question spending time in newsagents, drooling over  pictures of who-knows-what in men’s quasi-pornographic magazines. This man didn’t care much for his family, he would be the type society would expect to be lurking just outside school grounds–not one who would ever darken the door of a church.

I would never have believed this man could have changed, especially so dramatically.

How often is it that we come across a person many years after we first met them and find out they are a totally different person than we remembered?

St Paul wrote to the Corinthian church about those who were immoral, swindlers, drunkards, prostitutes, pedophiles.slanderers, greed-driven extortioners. What he says next may surprise anyone who knew them as such:

 And that is what some of you were. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God. (1 Coritnthians 6:11, TNIV)

He testifies to the change in them. People who met them today wouldn’t know they were once an addict, once a sex worker, once an embezzler. They have been cleansed of their past. An encounter with the living God has changed them and changed their identity.

People change.

Imagine with me how our world would be truly transformed if we find ourselves willing to admit this fact and recognise this awesome potential in every person we come across every day.
Imagine how we would live in a world where judgement is replaced by a deep awareness of the possibility that the person we are condemning may one day be a genuinely remarkable human being with a heart of compassion, grace and humility. Imagine a world where forgiveness flows freely and love replaces fear and disdain because we realise that we are all broken people who are, in some way, on the path to renewal.

Imagine if we realised fully how capable we ourselves are of change. Maybe–just possibly–we need to change before we’ll truly see this potential in others.

Jesus Saves* (*terms and conditions apply)

The Church is very good at bearing good news . . . sometimes. But when it comes to the salvation that comes from God through Jesus, it fails time and time again. I’m coming across examples of this every day:

  • Jesus Saves . . . those who recognise their sin and repent
  • Jesus Saves . . . only those who do not follow another religion
  • Jesus Saves . . . only those who believe in their total depravity and unworthiness
  • Jesus Saves . . . only heterosexuals
  • Jesus Saves . . . only those who evidence his salvation by speaking in tongues
  • Jesus Saves . . . only if you do not commit ______________ (insert pet sin here)
  • Jesus Saves . . . only if you _________________ (fill in the blank)

It makes me want to see a legally-determined disclaimer when some tell the good news: Jesus Saves* (*terms and conditions apply).

I suppose it boils down to this: Either “Jesus Saves” is good news for all, or it is not good news. There are no terms and conditions. There are no “exception clauses.” There is no bad news on the side. It is all good news. Jesus draws all to himself. He gave himself for the whole world. Nothing excludes you from the grace of God which is in Jesus.

That’s good news. No terms and conditions apply.

Redemption

“God has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of God’s beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.” (Excerpt from Colossians 1:9-14)

When was the last time you heard the word “redeem” outside of church?

Whenever it was, I’m willing to bet it had something to do with coupons [vouchers]. Which is actually sort of what Paul’s talking about here. To redeem something means to pay a debt that’s owed on it. When you take your coupon to the store, we say you’re redeeming that coupon; actually, it’s the store that’s redeeming it when they give you your 10% off.

Paul’s claim is that whatever sins you’ve committed have built up a debt, and that Jesus has paid it off.  Christianity’s party line for some time now has been that the debt you owe is death, and that Jesus paid that debt off by his own death.  Maybe—but perhaps there’s another way to think of it.

At root, sin is about spending our lives on things that are not worth spending our lives on.  Spend enough of your life on the wrongs things, and it can start to seem like you owe your life to them. Maybe what Jesus does is to give us a purpose, holy and high, to which we can devote ourselves when we sicken of being in thrall to lesser purposes. Maybe he redeems us not by paying off a debt, but by showing us that we don’t actually owe our sins anything. That we have in fact always been free to walk away from them and back home to God.

Maybe redemption is finding something—someOne—worth spending your life on.

God, don’t let me or the world trick me into believing I owe anything to anyone but you.  Amen.

–Reflection by Quinn G. Caldwell, from StillSpeaking

God Loves Us So That We Can Change

I found this in the e-mail this morning and thought it was worth sharing: God does not love us if we change.  God loves us so that we can change.

Michaelangelo's The Conversion of St Paul

God fills in the gaps of human deficiency by a great act of mercy and compassion, and the word for that great act for St. Paul is “Christ.”  For him Christ is the name for God’s great compassion, God’s great plan, God’s readiness to fill in the gaps of human sin, brokenness, poverty, and failure.  It is not a begrudged mop-up exercise after the fact, but as John Duns Scotus taught us Franciscans, “Christ was the very first idea in the mind of God.”  “All was created through him and for him …and he holds all things in unity and reconciles all within himself” (Colossians 1:16-17, 20).  Christ is God’s master plan and blueprint for history!  Salvation was the plan from the beginning, and not a mere response to our mistakes.

So why do we make the Gospel into a cheap worthiness contest?  After all, we have all fallen short of the glory (Romans 3:23, 5:12) and all are saved by mercy (Romans 11:32-36).  Even Mary proclaims it of herself (four times!) in her “Magnificat” (Luke 1:47-55).  Popes and priests, presidents and politicians are all saved “en Cristo” and by mercy and in our undeserved state.  No exceptions.

God does not love us if we change.  God loves us so that we can change.  These are two very different scenarios, but most of Christian history has sadly chosen the first.

From the Richard’s Daily Meditations (Adapted from The Great Themes of Paul: Life as Participation (CD) by Richard Rohr)