“Incarnation and Atonement, with special reference to Schleiermacher and Mercersburg”
by Peter Schmiechen
Previously published in the New Mercersburg Review, No. 37, Fall, 2007
This discussion of atonement and incarnation will focus on several themes: First, the need to change the way we think about atonement. The conventional wisdom is that there is either one big theory of atonement (penal substitution) or three theories named by Gustaf Auten in his landmark book of 1931: Christus Victor. As we shall see, both of these options present us with serious problems. The most serious is that they restrict our vision of the many ways in which the saving power of God in Christ meets human need. The New Testament and Christian traditions offer us a far richer set of images and theories.
Second, I want to explore the relation of atonement and incarnation. It is my contention that the witnesses to saving power in Christ make clear that incarnation is the inevitable and necessary consequence. Moreover, once this conclusion is reached, the theological affirmation of incarnation begins to function as a presupposition for what may be called the Christian re-thinking of God, human life, sin, salvation, and the redeemed life.
Both of these interests relate directly to Mercersburg. Unless we expand our view of atonement, there is no consideration of the view of Christ in the Mercersburg tradition. It was the distinctive genius of Mercersburg to take as its starting point the incarnation and the new life Christ initiates. While its view of atonement includes forgiveness of sins, the conquest of demonic power, and the demonstration of divine love, it shifts the emphasis to participation in the spiritual life which enlivens the church as the Body of Christ. In order to see the distinctive character of Mercersburg’s approach to atonement, we need to expand the entire framework for understanding atonement.
In a related way, Mercersburg becomes a wonderful example of a theological tradition that takes incarnation as its starting point and treats atonement and incarnation as inseparable. When we explore Mercersburg from this perspective, it will not surprise us that its lineage takes us back to three other theological figures who also take incarnation as the starting point: Athanasius, Anselm, and Schleiermacher.
I. Rethinking Atonement
Let us begin with the standard options regarding atonement: either there is one theory or the three outlined by Gustaf Aulen. If the only theory is that of penal substitution, we are in serious trouble, in spite of its elevation by so many to a position of doctrinal inerrancy. It is flawed for two reasons: First, it makes God into a passive, angry deity, waiting for the scales of retributive justice to be balanced by the death of the innocent Jesus in payment for the sins of the world. Second, it isolates the death of Jesus and makes it into something of intrinsic value demanded by God. It is very difficult to find this view in the teaching of Jesus or elsewhere in the Bible, where salvation is always presented as the action of a gracious God to redeem fallen humanity. Now it may well be that while many affirm penal substitution, they do not necessarily subscribe to the rigorous version of Charles Hodge, where punishment must precede forgiveness. or even the bloody version of Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ. It is quite possible that many hold a softer version, wishing to affirm that Jesus died for me and in my place, or that I am redeemed by his life and death. Nevertheless. the theory of penal substitution violates so many of our evangelical and theological values that it is difficult to endorse.
But things do not get better in Aulen’s proposal that there are three theories: a transactional view linked to Anselm, a subjective view tied to Abelard, and a classic view Christus Victor. The transactional or penal view is rejected by Aulen for reasons already noted. But Aulen also judges it to be Pelagian, since it is the human Jesus who offers his life to God. This human act is repeated ever after by faithful believers in the Roman Mass, as a work lifted up to God to earn our salvation. The subjective view is rejected because nothing really happens in the world except for a declaration of God’s love, given solely to change our hearts. To paraphrase Aulen, the entire gospel story is thus reduced to a postcard from heaven: ”God loves you. Wish you were here. Love, God.” Having rejected these two views, Aulen then lays out what he calls the classic view, running from Paul through Ireneus to Luther, wherein the victorious Christ conquers sin, death, and the devil. Note then what has happened: first we are presented with the generous offer of three views, but then the three are reduced to one, and we are back at another form of imperialism where all atonement theology is reduced to one view.
The consequences of either of these approaches—one or three reduced to a new one—are disastrous for faith, preaching, and theology. When pastors become convinced that atonement is about a vindictive God who takes satisfaction in the death of Jesus, many choose to skip the subject. The result, however, is confusion and a lack of conviction regarding the cross. No wonder so many turn to syrupy moralism and platitudes as advice to believers on their personal spiritual journey toward self-fulfillment. But even Aulen’s proposal fails to open the door to the many forms of saving power, since everything is reduced to his Lutheran version of Christus Victor. In the end we are left without any clarity regarding the many ways the New Testament speaks of saving power in relation to the numerous forms of human brokenness or the profound tensions within the God who wills the redemption of the world.
To get beyond this imperialism of one or three, I propose that we recognize that the New Testament and Christian traditions provide us with many theories. By a theory of atonement, I mean a comprehensive interpretation of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ as the demonstration of God’s saving power. To test this thesis, I have isolated at least eleven theories of atonement which arc distinct in terms of original image as well as comprehensive theory. (See Appendix I.) I have included Penal Substitution because it is held by so many Christians, in spite of the fact that it is deeply flawed and in need of major reconstruction. With the exception of this theory, all of the theories are positive and complement one another rather than exclude one another. This is the case because they speak to different issues, either in the human condition or in God. For example, there really is a difference between sin and the resultant guilt versus bondage to oppressive powers. A guilty person needs to be forgiven, a person suffering from shame needs to be liberated.
I am proposing that we change the way we think about atonement, namely, that the grace of God meets human need in many ways, always revealing something about God and ourselves. But it is impossible to adopt this new approach without liberating ourselves from the rigid confines presented by Aulen. His perspective has been codified in general works of theology and seminary curricula, appears endlessly in sermons and the media, and now reappears in recent books on Atonement (cf. works by Weaver, Boersma, and Heim). The irony of Aulen’s approach is that at one point he actually recognizes that R. Hermann interprets Anselm in a radically different way as the restoration of creation rather than penal substitution. But such an alternative would destroy Aulen’s tripartite scheme for interpreting all of Christian history. Bear in mind that Aulen wrote in 1931, a time when Protestants were waging war against a Catholicism judged to be Pelagian and a modem liberalism judged to be humanistic. Thus, it was a handy rhetorical device to identify Anselm with Catholicism, with its Pelagian tendencies, and Abelard with modem liberalism, with its tendency to reduce the gospel to the simple teachings of Jesus. Aulen’s three types thus become symbols of Pelagian Catholicism, modem liberalism, and Protestant Orthodoxy, linked to Irenaeus and Paul. Given the entrenched nature of Aulen’s perspective, it may indeed take an act of God to change the minds of many people. While we wait for divine arbitration of this dispute, let me make the case why Aulen is incorrect in attributing penal substitution to Anselm.
First, Aulen assumes that since Anselm places satisfaction at the center of his argument, therefore Anselm must affirm penal substitution. This, however, does not follow, since many writers use the word satisfaction in quite different ways. This is precisely the case with Anselm. R. W. Southern argues that Anselm is thoroughly medieval: the creation consists of layers of interconnected relations, obligations and duties, displaying both a moral order and infinite beauty, all working in harmony and giving honor to God (Saint Anselm, pp. 221-227). But sin has destroyed the harmony of the universe and dishonored God. Such disorder God cannot permit because it disrupts God’s purpose for the creation. If God were to allow this to continue, it would mean that God has turned aside from the divine purpose or is unable to achieve it. But what is to be done? Anselm lays out two options: satisfaction may be achieved by either punishment or restoration. While it appears that these two options are equally possible, we soon discover that for Anselm there really is no choice: God must restore the creation.
This is the crucial point in the entire treatise, and it leads to two conclusions:
a) if satisfaction must take the form of restoration, then we are led to the incarnation, which makes possible the liberation of humanity from death, the overthrow of the devil, the restoration of the creation as well as the honor of God. Any thought of punishment leading to penal substitution is completely set aside.
b) While we may think Anselm made the right choice, he must pay a price that even he does not acknowledge. Recall that Anselm said at the outset that he would justify the incarnation without appealing to the Bible and instead search for a necessary reason for the incarnation. But the only way he can justify the choice of restoration is to appeal to God’s faithfulness to God’s own purpose, found in the Biblical record. What we have then is a brilliant affirmation of the faithfulness of God, but also an admission that the search for a principle of necessity acceptable to independent reason ends in failure. Before moving on, let us summarize this final argument: Anselm’s whole thesis is constructed around the idea of God fulfilling the divine purpose by means of restoration, rather than punishment for violation of the law. Anselm is clearly working in a framework far distant from that of penal substitution.
The second reason penal substitution is not a part of Anselm’s view is that at no point in the text does God demand the death of Jesus. What Anselm says is that in his obedience and holiness, Jesus freely gives his life to God and thereby sets an example for believers. (Cf. John 15: 13) There is no necessity laid on Jesus by God (or, to employ the intra-Trinitarian terminology, by the Father upon the Son). Instead, Jesus’ journey toward Jerusalem is of his own free will and love of God. What is made abundantly clear is that if Jesus dies, it is not to satisfy the justice of God as a juridical requirement, but his death is a consequence of his obedience and love of God. Bear in mind that Anselm was a monk, for whom the vow of obedience was by far the highest goal for the Christian—yes, even more important than poverty and celibacy.
The third point has to do with Aulen’s charge of Pelagianism against Anselm. Aulen introduces a principle which most would readily accept: There must be total continuity between the action of God and the action of redemption. In applying this to Anselm, Aulen argues that since satisfaction must be accomplished by humans, therefore when the God-human appears for our salvation, he is acting only as human. Aulen judges this to be Pelagian and represents a discontinuity in the flow of action from God to salvation. While this argument is parallel to the Reformers’ critique of the Roman Mass. it is somewhat out of context when applied to Anselm. Anselm’s whole point is to argue that the incarnation must occur because humanity can not offer satisfaction but only God can. Thus, while it is true that humanity must offer satisfaction, it is only the God-human who can. To attribute a Pelagian twist to the requirement of the Savior’s humanity is to do violence to the delicate logic of incarnational theology found in Nicea and Chalcedon. Moreover, using Aulen’s logic, most theories of atonement would fail his test, since in every one the work of salvation is effected by the One who is both divine and human. Time and again theology has affirmed that Jesus is the truly human one, the new or second Adam, who embodies the true obedience and love of God. Indeed, for the human not to be involved would be docetic at worst, or Apollinarian at best.
To this point I have argued against only one half of Aulen’s reading of theology. Is it possible that we can also retrieve Abelard from Aulen’s scrnpheap of bad theology? Let us risk the attempt. Aulen dismisses Abelard as affirming Jesus as a teacher and example of love, the exponent of the subjective view. Nor can he find anything special about the death of Jesus in Abelard’s writing. To overturn this caricature of Abelard, one need only read the relevant lexts. Abelard, like Anselm, refuses to build a case for the incarnation and passion of Christ on the basis of negotiations with the devil. The devil is a liar and God owes the devil nothing. But Abelard turns his razor-sharp logic on Anselm as well: it is not necessary to develop an elaborate theory in search of some principle of necessity for the incarnation and crucifixion. If in the end the passion of Christ reveals the love of God, then let us simply affirm that the story is about the love of God from start to finish. Absent from Aulen’s report of Abelard is the fact that something does indeed happen: Jesus Christ is the incarnate Word who embodies the love of God. He redeems the world by his life, death, and resurrection, thereby creating on earth a community of faithful believers who continue to praise God and witness to the redeeming love of God. As Abelard notes, there is a difference between unrealized and realized hope. Christ is the real demonstration of the love of God. So he writes: “Wherefore, our redemption through Christ’s suffering is that deeper affection in us which not only frees us from slavery to sin, but also wins for us the true liberty of sons of God …. ” (Fairweather, Scholastic Miscellany, p. 284)
We can appreciate Abelard’s main point without having to conclude that his theory is the only theory of atonement. What I find especially interesting is that nearly every theory ends up with an Abclardian chorus. This occurs at that point where, once one has defined what God has done in Christ, one is led to ask: What is our appropriate response? Sooner or later there is a reminder of the wondrous love which seeks to invoke in us love born of Christ. lrenaeus provides a good example, as he argues that God does not take us by violence but by persuasion. He illustrates how it is not uncommon for Wondrous Love to be joined with other theories as an overarching answer to God’s motivation and our response. I would also note that Abelard’s position now reappears in so many books on atonement which seek an alternative to penal substitution. In many respects they are closer to Abelard than Christos Victor.
2. Incarnation and Atonement
Let us begin by affirming the dialectical relation between atonement and incarnation. On the one hand, incarnation is a consequence of the affirmation that saving power is present in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. While Jesus’ followers are astonished by him, all their claims about him lead to the conclusion that only God could do what they have experienced in Jesus Christ and Pentecost. Even more specific, if God were not present in Jesus, then the story of Jesus would be but one more story of an unusual person. To say that incarnation is the inevitable and necessary consequence of the saving power in Jesus leads to the rejection of several popular views. One is the dismissal of Nicaea and Chalcedon on grounds of intervention by Roman emperors. These discussions were certainly complicated by political struggles, but for Athanasius and his followers, the issue was always a matter of soteriology: God was in Christ! The other misleading view is the celebration of alternate forms of spirituality-including Gnosticism. Such a view argues for a more inclusive approach to divergent views in the early church on grounds that the church was too restrictive of such views, especially when practiced by women. On the contrary, I am suggesting that the affirmation of God’s saving power in Jesus requires the rejection of Gnosticism. There is a fundamental contradiction between the Christian story of Jesus and the polytheism and dualism of Gnosticism.
On the other hand, once incarnation is affirmed as a consequence of the story of Jesus, it then begins to function as a presupposition for thinking about God. In fact, if the crucified is raised to be Lord and now communicates new life to those gathered in his name, then all thinking about God, Jesus, the Spirit, believers, the church, and the world must be re-evaluated. New answers must now be given to questions such as: Who is God? What is God doing in the world? The point is that a major shift occurs in Christian thinking: once the presence of saving power leads to the consequence that it is God who is present in Jesus, then they cannot think about God without assuming incarnation as a presupposition for all Christian thought. But we need to be reminded that incarnation did not begin as a speculative presupposition, but as a result of the story of saving power in Jesus.
Let me propose three ways in which our theological reflection is altered once this connection between incarnation and atonement is established. First, if Jesus Christ has to do with God’s incarnation, then the focus shifts to God’s purpose. To be sure, Jesus’ cross and resurrection are still center stage. But Jesus and his story are significant to the extent that they point to God’s purposes in creation and now redemption. Second, if Jesus is tied to what God is doing in the world, then categories such as history and development become major concepts. We may now speak of a history of the world, of sin, and of redemption. But even more important, we may now speak of change or development in the course of history. Third, if atonement is governed by incarnation, then the dominant images will be those of new life, new being, and union with Christ. Underlying all of these images is the central idea of participation in the very life of Christ.
Taken together, these concepts of purpose, historical development, and new life become the hallmarks of an incarnational approach to atonement. Their value may be demonstrated by putting them to work: For example, such an approach slams the door on any reduction of Christian faith to moral action or cognitive ideas. To be Christian is more than doing something or knowing something. It is to be joined with Christ, i.e., to be rescued from the power of the old life lived to self and the powers of this world, and to be born again in the new life of God. Another example is helpful. In so much of American religion, God’s purpose is eliminated from the discussion. Preaching then concentrates on the question: Does God love you? The conservative answer is: “Yes, if you believe and do certain things?” That inevitably produces very oppressive systems and leads to protests in the name of the sovereignty of God. But the liberal answer is not much better. Liberals declare: “Yes, God loves you unconditionally.” Now I recognize that in a world where love is parceled out under strict conditions, the gospel of unconditional love can be good news. The problem, however, is that when the gospel is reduced to this slogan, the message is given that you don’t have to be or do anything but bask in the love of God. What is lost here is any sense of participation in the unfolding struggle of justice and peace as God moves the world toward God’s purpose. Is it any wonder that most Americans believe God loves them, and they don’t have to be involved in the church or anything else?
In [my book] Saving Power, I have used three writers to demonstrate how incarnation and atonement are held together in special ways: these are Athanasius, Anselm, and Schleiermacher. In many respects this is an unusual combination, especially in light of the demonization of both Anselm and Schleiermacher. But all three are theologians of the incarnation, and all three see history as the realm of the struggle between sin and God. It was Athanasius who repeatedly asked the question: “What was God to do?” It was Anselm who insisted on framing incarnation and atonement in light of God’s unrelenting faithfulness to restore the creation. And it was Schleiermacher who defined Christianity as a form of historical monotheism, wherein everything relates to the redemption accomplished by Jesus Christ and is mediated to us through the church. In fact. it is Schleiermacher who speaks of a double incarnation: the presence of God in Christ and the bestowal of the Spirit on the Church.
Here it is appropriate to elaborate on several aspects of Schleiermacher’s work which have obvious connections to Nevin and Schaff.
1. By defining religion as a relation to God which cannot be reduced to morality or knowledge, Schleiermacher joined together the pietist emphasis on religion of the heart with the Reformers emphasis on faith as trust of the heart.
2. For Schleiermacher Christianity involved the double incarnation of God in Jesus and the Spirit in the church. There was such a perfect unity of the work and person of Jesus that his person was itself the embodiment of the new life. In an unusual move, he rejected both adoptionism and the virgin birth, since neither could adequately explain the originating power of God in him. For Schleiermacher, Christ was the goal of creation and the mediator of salvation.
3. Schleiermacher believed the ancient categories of nature, person, and union of divine and human natures contained unresolved questions. They also were not the language of the modem world. As a result, he shifted to historical and personal language. But in doing this, he sought to construct a Christology which was exactly parallel to the language and the intention of Chalcedon: in Jesus Christ, God and humanity are fully and truly joined. The last point which connects our Mercersburg theologians to Schleiermacher was the latter’s absolute insistence that Jesus intended to found the church. It is by means of the church as the community of Christ, empowered by the Spirit. that the redemption of Christ is mediated throughout the world. For Schleiermacher, Nevin’s church question was given a resounding affirmative answer. In and through the church we participate in the new life God gives in Jesus Christ.
There can be little doubt that the Mercersburg theologians found in Schleiermacher support for the ideas that religion is a living reality which develops, and that Jesus Christ is the bearer of new life. But while these connections are clear, they and Schleiermacher stood in a larger tradition going back to Athanasius and ultimately the Johannine witness to Christ. When this is understood, we can then see that there is indeed a way of thinking about the cross which is governed by the incarnation. It focuses on God’s will to redeem the world by means of the incarnate Word, whereby life is bestowed upon the world through the redemption embodied in Jesus Christ. Such an approach to atonement is overlooked by both Protestants and Catholics if they are preoccupied with the forgiveness of sins (or its liberal formulation of the affirmation of unconditional love). For Mercersburg, the forgiveness of sins is taken up into a larger affirmation of life in the face of death, of the sacramental community of Christ which transforms the world, and finally, the ongoing revealing of God’s purposes.
APPENDIX I.
OUTLINE: THEORIES OF ATONEMENT
A. CHRIST DIED FOR OUR SINS (FORGIVENESS)
I. Sacrifice: The Jewish image of sacrifice for sin (i.e., removal/purification) and its application to Jesus.
The Letter to the Hebrews
2. Justification by grace: the righteousness of God revealed apart from the law.
Luther’s Commentary on Romans
3. Penal Substitution: Christ in our Place: Jesus’ death as compensation to the justice of God.
Charles Hodge
B. LIBERATION FROM SIN. DEATH AND DEMONIC POWERS
4. Liberation: Christ the Saving Power of God.
Irenaeus, Moltmann, Cone, Gutierrez, and Feminist/Womanist Theology
C. THE PURPOSES OF GOD
5. Renewal of the Creation: Incarnation and New Life in Christ.
Athanasius and the Nicene Theology
6. Restoration of the Creation by the Incarnation of God: The faithfulness of God
Anselm
7. The Completion of the Creation in Jesus Christ: Jesus Christ the Redeemer. Schleiermacher
D. RECONCILIATION
8. The Destruction of Idols and the True Knowledge of God.
H. R. Niebuhr
9. Christ the Reconciler: The cross as God’s reconciliation in the face of spiritual warfare. I Corinthians 1-2 24
10. The Wondrous Love of God. Jesus Christ as a Demonstration of Love and the new community of love.
Abelard, Wesley, and Mollmann on God’s co-suffering
II. The Unveiling of Violence: The Cross as God’s Judgment against institutionalized violence (scapegoating).
Girard, Bartlett. Heim
