Atonement and the Divine Attributes
Delving further into the doctrine of the triune God, in this chapter we concentrate on the deeply formative role of the divine attributes within theories of the atonement.1 Every theory focuses our attention on one particular aspect (or subset thereof) of the character of God who comes among us, shaping our understanding of different nuances within the work of Christ, of human sin and of the nature of his saving benefits. The influence of the divine attributes within every element of theories of the atonement is so determinative, that attending to their role is the most decisive element in the study of the doctrine.2 To bring this thesis to life, we begin by exploring the role of the divine attributes in two different works by Jonathan Edwards.
Edwards on justice and wisdom
In his essay ‘Concerning the Necessity and Reasonableness of the Christian Doctrine of Satisfaction for Sin’ Edwards builds on the premise that ‘justice requires that sin be punished, because sin deserves punishment’.3 In doing so, he draws upon one of the foremost characteristics of the Reformed understanding of the atonement – its emphasis upon the necessity of upholding God’s justice. Turretin, for example (upon whom Edwards draws heavily), affirms the absolute necessity of the atonement in the following manner: ‘God neither has willed, nor could have willed to forgive sins, without a satisfaction made to his justice.’4 Our sin, in this system, is ‘a debt which we are bound to pay to divine justice’ and ‘a crime against the government of the universe by which before God, the supreme governor and judge, we become deserving of everlasting death and malediction’.5 From the very beginning, judicial terminology and distinctions dominate the scene, depending on an understanding of the nature and pre-eminence of the divine justice. Given this judicial emphasis, the problem raised by sin is threefold: payment of our debt of punishment, appeasing the divine wrath and expiation of our guilt. Because God is the just ruler of the universe and we have sinned, Turretin and others formulated a solution guaranteeing that God remains the just ruler of the universe by destroying the sin, guilt and debt of humanity that affronted him. Every other consideration falls under this fundamental rubric.
Adhering to this model of the atonement, Edwards begins the aforementioned essay with the claim that ‘justice requires that sin be punished, because sin deserves punishment’.6 He secures this fundamental premise in the nature of divine justice:
The justice of God obliges him to punish sin: for it belongs to God as the supreme Rector of the universality of things, to maintain order and decorum in his kingdom, and to see to it that decency and right takes place at all times, and in all cases. That perfection of his nature whereby he is disposed to this, is his justice; and therefore, his justice naturally disposes him to punish sin as it deserves.7
As the universal rector or ruler, God must act justly. Following this path, Edwards gives a judicial or ‘forensic’ account, which agrees in almost every respect with that of Turretin.8 While the details of this account are intricate, it suffices for our purposes to note that the sin of humankind was imputed to Jesus, so that he might suffer ‘the full punishment’ which ‘we owed to divine justice for our sins’.9 This mediatorial work was an act of great love and mercy, to be sure – but an act in which the God, who had to be just, freely chose to be both just and merciful. Justice, in this case, provides the architectural features of the work, which is then supplemented by other attributes (such as mercy). It would be a mistake, however, to claim this as Edwards’ definitive account of the atonement, for in looking at another of his writings on the subject, we find a strikingly different portrayal.
In an edited collection of sermons known by the name ‘The Wisdom of God Displayed in the Way of Salvation’ we find Edwards once again dwelling upon the doctrine of the atonement, but from a radically different perspective.10 Rather than starting with the concept of God as the just ruler of the universe, he begins his reflection with Ephesians 3:10: ‘To the intent that now unto the principalities and powers in heavenly places, might be known by the church the manifold wisdom of God.’ That is to say, Edwards uses the ‘manifold Wisdom of God’ as the key attribute for exploring the work of Christ.
It is called manifold wisdom; because of the manifold glorious ends that are attained by it. The excellent designs, hereby accomplished, are very manifold. The wisdom of God in this is of vast extent. The contrivance is so manifold, that one may spend an eternity in discovering more of the excellent ends and designs accomplished by it; and the multitude and vast variety of things that are, by divine contrivance, brought to conspire the bringing about those ends. (Wisdom, 141)
To expound God’s manifold wisdom is to dwell on that aspect of God’s character which brings God’s counsels and purposes together in completion and fulfilment, or as Edwards puts it, which attains the ‘manifold glorious ends’ of God (Wisdom, 141). The emphasis here is upon the source within the character of God which discerns the course of action most suitable for attaining a wide array of purposes, simultaneously highlighting the biblical theme of God’s wisdom and the range of goals behind God’s (re)creative activity.
What might these goals of God be? In The End for Which God Created the World, Edwards suggests that God created in order to glorify himself by exercising his glorious attributes towards creation (99), communicating God’s fullness to creation (117), so that it might delight in and glorify him in return (119–20).11 While in this treatise Edwards emphasizes the divine glory, this does not make for a one-dimensional account. This is because for Edwards, the divine glory is the fullness of the divine attributes; emphasizing divine glory means simultaneously emphasizing the fullness of God’s character, which is then communicated to the creature. Integrating the insights from these two works, to expound God’s manifold wisdom is to expound the ways in which it brings to fulfilment the communication of the divine attributes (the divine glory) to the creature, in fulfilment of God’s promises.
God’s mercy, justice, honour, knowledge, goodness . . . all these and others beside attain their end within creation by means of the wisdom of God. And God decisively displays his wisdom in the way of salvation, for:
All [God’s] works praise him, and his glory shines brightly from them all: but as some stars differ from others in glory, so the glory of God shines brighter in some of his works than in others. And amongst all these, the work of redemption is like the sun in his strength. The glory of the author is abundantly the most resplendent in this work. (Wisdom, 144)
In short, Christ’s redeeming work is that act of God which most completely sums up and fulfils God’s creative purpose of glorifying himself by communicating that same glory, by communicating the fullness of the divine life to the creature. This being the case, justice is an essential component of any account of the wisdom of God displayed in our salvation (as developed, for instance, in Edwards’ Of Satisfaction for Sin), but it plays its role alongside a host of other divine attributes, each with their respective role and insight.
And because each attribute has its role and insight, the more divine attributes we integrate into our account of the Passion, the fuller an understanding we will have of Christ’s work and its meaning. We see this clearly in Edwards’ sermons on wisdom, distinctive for how they cultivate appreciation for a multiplicity of ends accomplished by Christ’s death on the cross. At the level of divine attributes, Edwards considers the role of the divine mercy, justice, honour, knowledge, goodness and others. While God still requires satisfaction of his justice,12 we now see the infinite love, pity, wisdom, power and merit of God in Christ’s redeeming work. As Edwards says, ‘each attribute of God is glorified in the work of redemption’13 In addition to the various attributes, each person of the Trinity is exceedingly glorified in this work: Father, Son and Holy Spirit.14 Focusing specifically on humankind, a wide variety of goods were procured for us, extending far beyond the removal of guilt. We now stand in peace with God, have the favour of God, are bestowed with satisfying happiness and have great enjoyment and every sort of good for soul and body among a great number of other goods.15 Beyond the implications of the cross and empty tomb for God and humans, Edwards extends these reflections to the fate of the fallen and unfallen angels (cf. Chapter 6) – yet another instance of the increased breadth and scope which Edwards gives to the doctrine of the atonement in these sermons.
In sum, we find a startling difference between two of Edwards’ treatments of the atonement – an essay in which he advances a finely honed summary of Turretin’s theory of penal substitution, and a set of sermons which canvas the breadth of the doctrine of the atonement and those things impacted by it in a way which is to my knowledge unprecedented in the history of theology.
Why do Edwards’ accounts different so greatly? Why is Edwards’ treatise on satisfaction so one-dimensional, whereas the collection of sermons is so rich and diverse? It is as though one attended a lecture focusing on marriage as a financial institution integral to national economies, and then attended a second lecture by the same speaker, which expounded on marriage as a romantic union, covenantal bond, foundation for the family, political organization, economic institution and educational establishment. In these lectures on marriage and the works of Edwards we just explored, a far more comprehensive second account includes within it the content of the first one-dimensional lecture. Both approaches are of great interest, for a sustained exploration of a single element of a complex reality is of great value, while a broader and fuller account, though less thorough in the details, paints a compelling vista, providing numerous connections and avenues for further exploration. What then might account for the difference in the scope of the two accounts?
We must not rule out the role of context – for perhaps in the treatise on satisfaction Edwards was responding to a specific question or disputation, just as the expert on marriage in the first lecture may have been addressing students majoring in economics. For our present purposes, however, I would like to attend to a conceptual rather than contextual feature. In the lectures on marriage and Edwards’ two works, the second instance in each case offers a far greater breadth of approach than the first. In the case of the marriage lectures, the second lecture explores a fuller range of elements properly considered dimensions of a robust anthropology. In Edwards’ case, the breadth flowed from a heightened awareness of different dimensions of the character of God. For while Edwards emphasizes a single divine attribute, the nature of divine wisdom and the way in which it turns one’s attention to the other divine attributes has a markedly different effect than the selection of many other attributes. This decision is of immense significance for the shape of Edwards’ respective accounts, and guides us deep into understanding the nature of ‘theories’ of the atonement and the Church’s vocation regarding them.
Theories of the atonement, as we have seen, are synthetic in nature, explaining the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ through an integrated account of the character of God, the nature of our sin, and the fulfilment of God’s creative purposes. But for two reasons the divine attribute we choose to emphasize shapes a theory more decisively than any other element. First, this is the case because the Gospel is first and foremost a matter of God, and the good news that God has chosen to be with us (Emmanuel), to make our dilemma his own and to make himself both the means and goal of our salvation. For this reason, properly theological concerns, matters pertaining to the doctrine of God, should always be primary in our thinking about the atonement. As Barth puts it, the atonement is ‘primarily a statement about God and only then and for that reason a statement about us men’ (CD IV/1, 5).16 For this reason alone, the role of the divine attributes is necessarily one of, if not the, most important feature of any theory of the atonement, as the account of the character of God who is the central agent in this drama. Building upon this, we note the second reason: each of the main components of any theory of the atonement derives, in one way or another, from the antecedent reality of the divine life, the divine attributes.
Regarding sin, what is it but creaturely opposition to the character of God? As Augustine notes in a beautiful passage:
Pride imitates what is lofty; but you alone are God most high above all things. What does ambition seek but honour and glory? Yet you alone are worthy of honour and are glorious for eternity. The cruelty of powerful people aims to arouse fear. Who is feared but God alone? What can be seized or stolen from his power? When or where or how or by whom? Soft endearments are intended to arouse love. But there are no caresses tenderer than your charity, and no object of love is more healthy than your truth, beautiful and luminous beyond all things. Curiosity appears to be a zeal for knowledge; yet you supremely know all. Ignorance and stupidity are given the names of simplicity and innocence; but there is no greater simplicity than in you. And what greater innocence than yours, whereas to evil men their own works are damaging? Idleness appears as desire for a quiet life; yet can rest be assured apart from the Lord?17
Every sin in some way parodies the character of God, corrupting our portrayal of it. Creation is the gift of God by means of which we can partake of the divine life in creaturely form. And just as our words and deeds are the tools and stage of our creaturely partaking of the character of God, so also they are the occasion for the terrifying and disastrous corruption or perversion of that possibility. But just as the atonement presupposes sin, so it aims towards salvation, the fulfilment of God’s creative purposes. And these too are necessarily bound up with the divine character: for what else could God share with us than the divine character in a context and mode appropriate for the creature?
In short, the divine character is at the heart of the atonement: in Christ, God is present to us in the fullness of his perfection, so as to take sin (the opposition to that perfection) into account in himself, and to bring about our salvation (creaturely participation in that perfection) in the same way. The key to every aspect of the atonement is the divine character: the perfection of the triune God who in and of himself is the source of all goodness, love, power and wisdom (to name but a few). And as the Church seeks to witness to this reality, and as it cannot say at once all that it must say, it must offer glimpses into this reality in the shape of concrete theories which speak truly, though incompletely, of Christ’s saving work. And it is the selection of the divine attribute at the heart of this work that exercises the greatest shaping influence on the account as a whole. The divine attribute(s) stand at the centre of any theory of the atonement, shaping its constituent parts and determining its insights and limitations.
For this reason, the single best vantage point from which to appreciate the nature, strengths and limitations of any given theory of Christ’s saving work is to explore the role of the attribute(s) emphasized within that theory. While a host of other factors converge in each theory, the divine attributes provide the fundamental structure and integrity to the whole, calling for our most careful attention.
Atonement and divine simplicity
A second example of the role of the divine attributes in the atonement will further establish our thesis, while pushing us to a deeper level of reflection. We have already seen how Turretin’s account of satisfaction revolves around divine justice. On this account, ‘God neither has willed, nor could have willed to forgive sins, without a satisfaction made to his justice,’18 but chose to be merciful as an ‘exercise of a gratuitous power’.19 We see precisely the opposite approach in a recent book by Belousek, who argues, ‘retribution is the right, not a necessity, of God’.20 Rather, ‘God’s steadfast love and faithfulness belong to God’s character in an essential way that anger or wrath does not; anger or wrath is not the dominant side or controlling element of God’s character, but love and mercy.’21 To rephrase Belousek’s position in a mode akin to Turretin and Edwards, we might say that ‘God neither has willed, nor could have willed to act toward sinners without love and mercy’, and any incorporation of retributive justice, wrath or anger would be an ‘exercise of gratuitous power’ belonging to God by right, though not demanded by nature. In short, the two positions are strongly if not diametrically opposed to each other, due to opposing conceptions of the nature and role of divine mercy and justice.22
One possibility is that one or both understandings are deeply flawed. Another is to note the difference between Edwards’ focus on sin and Belousek’s focus on the sinner. At present, we will take a third alternative, inquiring into the way both Edwards and Belousek prioritize one divine attribute over the others, arguing that God must act in accordance with one attribute, whereas he is free to act in keeping with another, should he choose to do so. God must be just, and he can be merciful; or he must be merciful, and he can choose to be just and exercise his wrath. What is behind this difference? Why can’t he choose to be just and merciful, or what prevents us from affirming that he must be both just and merciful?
Theologians have long distinguished between different kinds of divine attributes: communicable and incommunicable, absolute and relative, external and internal (CD II/1, 345). Some distinctions originate in what we can or can’t know about God, others distinguish between those attributes in which we can or cannot participate as creatures, while others work with essential attributes without which God simply would not be God, and others concerning which God, in his freedom, can enact or withhold. Such distinctions have a long history in theological reflection, and are not without their merits. At present, I will sketch an answer rooted in divine simplicity, though there are other ways of navigating this material.
According to Thomas, ‘God is nowise composite, but is altogether simple’ (ST, I.3.7), or as Holmes sums up his view, ‘God’s life is one, single and coherent; he is not divided into differing parts or pulled in different directions.’ The various perfections refer to the same fundamental reality, the perfection of the triune God, but do so by capturing ‘one or another aspect of that one simple perfection’.23 That being the case, several implications ensue, including the impossibility of strongly distinguishing different attributes such as justice and mercy. Since both justice and mercy are different aspects of the perfection of the triune God, and they are not divided or pulled in different directions, we are wrong to speak as though one were more central or essential than the other. Any divine attribute of God simply is the one divine perfection of God viewed from a specific standpoint, and is therefore just as central to the divine life and economic activity of God as any other.
Working with a notion of divine simplicity, Barth honours the unity and diversity of the divine attributes by appealing to the pattern employed within the doctrine of the Trinity. ‘[God] is who He is and what He is in both unity and multiplicity. He is the One who is this many, and the many who are this One’ (CD II/1, 323). Building upon this pattern of unity and multiplicity within the one God, Barth applies it to the divine attributes (or ‘perfections’, as he calls them):
The multiplicity, individuality and diversity of the perfections of God are those of His simple being, which is not therefore divided and then put together again. In God multiplicity, individuality and diversity do not stand in any contradiction to unity. Rather the very unity of His being consists in the multiplicity, individuality and diversity of his perfections, which since they are His are not capable of any dissolution or separation or non-identity, and which again since they are His are capable of genuine multiplicity, individuality and diversity. (CD II/1, 332)
In other words, the Church can and should affirm the simplicity of God in the sense that there is a unity and multiplicity proper to God, both at the level of the triunity of God and that of the divine attributes. The latter are one just as God is one, and therefore cannot be divided against each other, and always mutually inform each other. Neither can they be reduced to a single attribute, for just as God in and of himself is Father, Son and Holy Spirit, so the divine character has a multiplicity proper to itself, in the form of a host of divine attributes.
And it is precisely these attributes that the triune God seeks to share with us in his mercy, by bringing us into the divine life (theōsis).
Which of the attributes of God, in which as Creator, Reconciler and Redeemer He allows His creatures to share, is not, as His own, utterly incommunicable from the creaturely point of view, i.e., communicable only by the miracle of grace? And again, which of these incommunicable attributes has not God nevertheless communicated to the creature in that His Word was made flesh? Is not God’s mercy completely unfathomable and inaccessible to us? And has He not implanted His eternity utterly in our hearts? In His Son God has opened up to us and given us all, His inmost self. (CD II/1, 345)24
This passage offers an indirect reaffirmation of divine simplicity, but does so by undercutting traditional distinctions between classes of attributes (alluded to earlier). This move is of great significance for several reasons. First, it pits an affirmation of divine simplicity against the usefulness of distinctions such as communicable and incommunicable attributes, undermining the latter. Second, it demands that we reinterpret the ‘incommunicable’ attributes in light of the work of Christ, wherein we see precisely those attributes being communicated to us. Third, we can extend Barth’s thesis to chastise Belousek, Turretin and any other theologian who distinguishes between those attributes that God must exhibit in his interactions with humankind, and are therefore central to an account of the atonement, and attributes which God is free to enact, and therefore play a peripheral role within that doctrine.
God is one. There is no conflict within God between those elements of his character that are essential and those that are peripheral, between that which God can and cannot share, between that which is truly God and that which is partly, or somewhat God. God is who he is in the fullness of the divine life, a life in which there is no conflict, division or separation between Father, Son and Spirit. And God shares with us this life in Christ, and therefore shares with us the full and united life proper to himself, because anything less would be for God to share something other than himself. But because God shares himself in his fullness, in his oneness, we must do justice to this within the doctrine of the atonement, refusing to distinguish between essential and non-essential, central and peripheral, necessary or free attributes. Rather, we must delight in the ongoing task of appreciating the role of each of God’s attributes and their interrelations within the work of Christ, for it is by this that we come to appreciate the full extent of what God has given us in Christ, with all the attending implications for the vocation of the Church that finds its identity in God’s self-giving.
Opera ad extra, and the doctrine of appropriations
Arguing for the unity of the divine attributes raises a pressing question for my thesis, which contends that every theory of the atonement derives its distinctive shape and character by emphasizing one (or a set of) divine attribute(s). If the multiplicity of divine attributes is not ultimately distinguishable into discrete, independent attributes, then isn’t the necessarily one-dimensional emphasis of any theory of the atonement inherently opposed to the ultimate unity of the divine attributes? Where unity-in-diversity is the anthem, is there any potential for a solo beyond that of a clanging gong? To answer this question we return to the doctrine of the Trinity, which is the source of our commitment to and understanding of divine simplicity.
It is a theological commonplace that the external works of the Trinity are undivided (opera trinitatis ad extra sunt indivisa), for the triune God is one and undivided.25 Augustine, for instance, writes that, ‘with regard to this three [the triune God] the divine utterances have many ways of saying things about them individually which belong to them all, on account of the indivisible operation of their one and the same substance’.26 That is to say, while Scripture says things about the individual persons of the Trinity, we understand these to apply to all three persons, because their common substance entails unified action. In explicit affirmation of Augustine’s claim, Thomas interprets Gabriel’s statement to Mary (Lk. 1:35), that the Holy Spirit would come upon her, as an action of the whole Trinity: ‘the whole Trinity effected the conception of Christ’s body’ (ST III, q. 32, a. 1). This much we would expect, based on our previous reflection on divine simplicity. How, then, do we account for the fact that Scripture does attribute different actions to different persons of the Trinity, when we affirm that the actions of the one God are undivided?
Continuing with Thomas, we find that he gives three reasons for Gabriel’s affirmation concerning the Holy Spirit, each revolving around the fittingness of this attribution. For instance, Thomas writes: ‘This is befitting the term of the Incarnation. For the term of the Incarnation was that that man, who was being conceived, should be the Holy One and the Son of God. Now both of these are attributed to the Holy Ghost. For by Him men are made to be sons of God. . . . Again, He is the Spirit of sanctification’ (ST III, q. 32, a. 1). In conjunction with the affirmation that the external works of the Trinity are undivided, the Church has traditionally posited a doctrine of appropriations, in which we attribute to different persons of the Trinity those acts or characteristics that seem to be most fitting to them, as specified by the patterns of speech, action and attribution throughout Scripture. We therefore speak of the Father as Creator, for example, knowing full well that creation was an act of the one God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. These appropriations, in keeping with Scripture, allow us to emphasize the diversity proper to the Trinity, without allowing an ultimate division that would belie the oneness of God.
Returning to the divine attributes, I would like to suggest that the opera ad extra (undivided works of the Trinity) and doctrine of appropriation could play a similar role to that which they play in the doctrine of the Trinity. First, in keeping with the oneness of God and the belief that the external works of the Trinity are undivided, we affirm that that whole divine character is fully present in any act of God. For instance, the justice, wisdom and patience of the living God are always fully present in each of his acts. This rules out any opposition or dichotomy between justice and mercy, wrath and love, or any other grouping of attributes, and likewise eschews assigning certain divine attributes to the Father, and others to the Son and Spirit. Righteousness is just as proper to the Son as to the Father, while mercy and love are true of the Father just as they are of the Son. The question remains how theories of the atonement are possible, given that they necessarily rely upon one (or a small group of) divine attribute(s) to give character to a theory. Isn’t this selection dismissive of the unity of God, and of the role that the opera ad extra ought to play in our thought regarding both the triunity of God and his divine character?
It is at this point that the doctrine of appropriations is of such service, for it provides warrant for us to relate certain divine attributes to a specific aspect of the work of the triune God in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, while keeping in mind the ultimate unity of the divine character. In other words, as long as such appropriations are chastened by an awareness of the ultimate unity of the divine attributes, we should avail ourselves of the opportunity to dwell upon the saving work of Christ from the standpoint of different attributes of God, as is fitting in different contexts and situations. Just as we can and should appropriate the work of atonement to the Son, or sanctification to the Spirit, we can and should emphasize the role of different attributes within the doctrine of the atonement.
Returning to our question: if the multiplicity of divine attributes is not ultimately distinguishable into discrete, independent attributes, then isn’t the necessarily one-dimensional emphasis of any theory of the atonement inherently opposed to the ultimate unity of the divine attributes? In response, we can now say that affirming the oneness of the divine attributes (opera ad extra) is not in tension with developing individual attributes and their role in shaping the meaning of Christ’s death and resurrection (doctrine of appropriations). The unity of the triune character is a rich and diverse unity, permitting and encouraging our dwelling upon individual aspects of this unity. In fact, the only way to honour the unity of the divine life and character is to honour it as a rich and diverse unity, both at the level of persons and character.
For this reason, the doctrine of the atonement must consistently work within the tension of unity and diversity, lest it fail to appropriately acknowledge one or the other. The danger is twofold. On the one hand, a false unity may dominate, in which a single theory of the atonement, rooted in a supposedly central or dominant attribute, leads to a permanent system that cuts off or undermines further exploration. On the other hand, a dangerous diversity may reign, in which different theories vie for attention, combating and contradicting each other, or take a more passive route of ignoring each other, operating without a common voice. Unfortunately, both of these dangers are amply evident in the history of the doctrine.
The doctrine of the atonement must integrate its commitment to the oneness and multiplicity of God into its account of the work of Christ, using the unity and diversity proper to the divine perfections as the foundation for its development and ordering of its complementary theories of Christ’s saving work.27 The result is a dynamic, rich and unified theological project, which honours the abundance of biblical and historical material. What we lose in rejecting the simplicity of a single sufficient orthodox position on this doctrine, we gain in affirming the abundance proper to the central act of the ever-rich God.
Atonement from and atonement for
Attention to the divine attributes in this fashion should heighten our awareness that these are the attributes of the living God, and as such, they are life-giving. While it is the case that the life-giving character of God can enact itself destructively in the presence of sin (e.g. holiness consuming the impure), this is not God’s natural mode of activity. Because of this, we must be careful to construe Christ’s work primarily as a constructive and life-giving reality: an atonement for. As Barth puts it:
God Himself has said No in the sacrifice of His Son for us. . . . How can the divine Yes be rightly repeated if it does not include a repetition of this No? But it is distinguishable from the No of pessimism by the fact that like the divine No it is never addressed to creation as such but to the nothingness by which creation is surrounded and menaced . . . and especially by the fact that when it was originally spoken by God it was superseded by His Yes, so that it can only be a No surrounded by and concealed in a Yes, and therefore a retrospective and secondary No. (CD III/1, 386)
The ‘yes’ of God to his creation in Christ is the primal reality within which his ‘no’ also and temporarily finds its place. Accordingly, an account of the atonement must necessarily include that which we are redeemed from (the ‘no’ of God) – but the order or emphasis is vital. While in fact we are saved from sin, death and the devil, this is but one part of the good news, which by itself is no Gospel at all. Properly put, we are saved for abundant life with the triune God and his creation (the ‘yes’ of God).
The holy God sanctifies us that we might be holy (1 Pet. 1:16). The just God makes us just and righteous that these might roll on like a river and never-failing stream, watering the earth (Amos 5:24). The loving God showers his love upon us, that we might love in return. In him we are given freedom, unity and wisdom, for these too are proper to the divine life. Created by Christ Jesus, and saved in and through him, we were both made and saved ‘for good works’ (Eph. 2:10), for an abundant creaturely manifestation of the life of God. We are not prisoners released into a harsh and unwelcoming reality; rather, our release was from prison into an embracing, empowering and life-giving community, where we have freedom to work and serve with honour and dignity. We are not abused spouses and children, delivered from our tormentor but living on the street, looking for shelter and safety; rather, our delivery was from abuse into a loving, nurturing family where past fears and pains can be enfolded by joy, security and intimacy. We are not freed from our debts, penniless in a world of untrusting creditors; rather, freedom is of such a kind as to come with full restitution, full trust and complete resources for abundant life.
Why is this the case? Because the atonement is not primarily about overcoming sin – it is first and foremost about giving us life, and life abundantly (Jn 10:10). To put it differently, the atonement is not about death – it is about resurrection.28 Where there is resurrection there has been death; but the latter is only the prerequisite for the former, and it is the former that is the goal of Christ’s work.
If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins. . . . But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have fallen asleep. For as by a man came death, by a man has come also the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive. (1 Cor. 15:17, 20-22)
The goal is not merely to have faith, not merely to undo the effects of sin and death – the goal is the resurrection, being made alive in Christ that we might be imitators of him, and in this way live out the divine life to the fulfilment of our creaturely existence. In short, the atonement is a fundamentally creative and life-giving reality. This is because God atones for our sin by means of himself, by means of his creative and life-giving character, by means of the same person and character that created us in the first place.29 What does it mean to be reconciled to the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the God that became man in the person of Jesus Christ? It is to be swept up into the fullness of the divine life, while experiencing the overflow of this blessing at personal and social levels, and beyond that, in creation as a whole.
This constructive perspective on the meaning and significance of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ calls for a primarily constructive use of the divine attributes. God comes to share with us his righteousness, justice, love and wisdom. While each of the divine attributes play a role in overcoming sin and its effects, we must not allow this necessarily destructive element of the atonement to overwhelm or minimize what is properly a creative, life-giving and constructive work of the triune God. Why did God become man? In order that he might share with us his honour, to make us wise, to carry us in his love and to fill us with his righteousness.
The shadow-side: Sin in the atonement
That Christ’s death and resurrection is first and foremost a constructive act that re-establishes us in a creaturely partaking of the divine life does not mean that the atonement is only positive and life-giving. Resurrection presupposes death, and the restoration of our life with and in God presupposes our separation from him. While the order of our treatments allows the order and priority of the Gospel as good news to emerge clearly, it is vital that we not omit this secondary element: a proper understanding of that which Christ sought to overcome and destroy through his death and resurrection.
We begin, once more, with the divine attributes. The attributes of the living God, we have recently noted, are life-giving; but this is not all they are. To those who are being saved, they are the nourishing power of God; but to those who reject God they take on an altogether different guise. In the presence of sin the divine character takes on a different mode of activity, a destructive mode, we might say. Luther develops this line of thought, suggesting that we think of the divine attributes in two different ways – (1) as lived within the immanent divine life and extended to us in a ‘natural’ mode and (2) in an ‘alien’ mode. The latter is an adaptation of God’s natural character or way of relating to the circumstances of sin.30 Within the triune life of God, the divine attributes are exclusively affirming, sustaining and glorifying. The justice of God cultivates the harmony and order of the divine life; his love forms the bonds of intimacy, while his holiness is the singular purity proper to himself. By enacting the divine character in creating, God opened up a range of new possibilities, including the primary goal of relationship with the creature. Included within this possibility, however, was a second and darker path, rejected by God: the rebellion of the creature, as it rejected the divine character and will.31 Where God is wise, we sought to establish our own counterfeit wisdom, actively embracing foolishness. Where God is Lord, we fought for dominion, or relinquished our stewardship in various forms of slavish subservience. For every divine attribute there are a host of perversions, distortions, fragments and rejections, resulting in a diverse account of sin throughout the biblical narrative.32
It is in this context, that of a creation groaning under creaturely rebellion against God’s character, that atonement occurs. And while atonement is primarily a creative and life-giving work, it necessarily includes God’s manifold reaction to sin in its multitude of forms. The key to properly understanding this reaction is, once again, the divine attributes. God does not save us by means of certain attributes, and deal with sin by means of others. Drawing on Luther, we might claim, for instance, that divine justice may be fundamentally about the order and harmony necessary for life; but in the presence of sin, it takes on an alien mode of activity which judges, punishes and ultimately destroys the sin or the sinner. But because this alien mode is ordered towards the natural mode of God’s justice, the alien mode of activity does not have a life of its own, and is not at odds with the other divine attributes.
Shifting categories, we note that God is omnipresent. He is present to himself and to all that which he creates. His goal in creation is to share the divine life with the creature, that it too might have presence – a sphere of belonging and activity proper to the creature by means of which it can live, relate and extend itself through activity. But what happens when we sin against the omnipresent God? We reject the reality of divine presence, hiding from God, and abusing our creaturely presence by exiling some and forcing others to be near us, turning presence into a matter of power and efficiency rather than a gift necessary for free relationship. When God in Christ comes near us, that he might restore us to life with and in him, one aspect of this restoration is that of re-establishing our presence with God, in the Church, and in the world. But in the midst of this constructive project, the omnipresence of God takes on an alien mode of activity, destroying and casting down the tools and implements of false presence (2 Cor. 10:4), breaking bonds (Jer. 30:8), casting down walls, and removing the barriers which force or prevent the intimacy of free presence (Eph. 2:14). And because these barriers, bonds and tools, along with their disastrous effects, are bound up with our identity as sinners, Christ makes our sin his own. He bears in himself the full reality of our sinful opposition to divine omnipresence, bearing our exile and destruction (LW, 17, 223). But he does so that he might share with us the natural mode of his omnipresence: welcoming us into the kingdom and presence of the Father.
This reflection brings us two valuable insights. First, while Christ’s death and resurrection is first and foremost a creative, life-giving work, it necessarily includes God’s decisive response to and rejection of sin in all its forms. This response is the work of those same attributes that enliven us as we are swept up into the life of God, as they take on an alien mode of activity, destroying sin in its many forms. The central element of this divine response to sin is the death of Christ, in which the triune God brings the sin of humankind into himself in the person of the incarnate Son, where God fully enacts his response against sin.
Second, this understanding of sin enables us to better appropriate the biblical witness and the insights of different cultures and communities into the biblical testimony concerning sin. If we prioritize one of the divine attributes over the others, it follows that we will likely prioritize one aspect of sin. But this is as illegitimate concerning sin as it is with the divine character. Our vocation is to understand and oppose sin in all its forms, and the best way to do this is by taking up each aspect of sin into an account of the atonement that overcomes it. And we do this by attending to the divine attribute, which that particular sin opposes or perverts, exploring the natural and alien roles of that attribute within Christ’s atoning work. This, in turn, gives us yet another entry into the riches of the biblical understanding of Christ’s atoning work – through the back door of the biblical account of sin.
One way to accomplish this task is through careful study of the different ways the Bible speaks of sin, drawing upon the exegetical and theological sources which facilitate such work. A second, and ultimately complementary route, is to take a sociological approach, exploring the ways in which cultures think about sin, using this insight to overcome our biases and open our eyes to the ways that the Bible speaks of sin.33
A focused look: Wrath and penal substitution
Sustained reflection upon the divine attributes is the wellspring for a rich, creative and properly balanced account of Christ’s saving work. But what happens when we explore Christ’s death and resurrection in light of God’s retributive justice, or divine wrath, as penal substitution is wont to do? The mainstay of this approach is a strong affirmation of God’s justice or righteousness, which holds that God must punish and pour out his wrath upon sin and the sinner, for in his love and goodness, neither for his own sake nor for that of the creature does he tolerate the perverting, consuming and depraving influence of sin.34 In God’s love, however, he chooses to take sin upon himself in the person of Jesus Christ, so as to fully exercise his righteous and wrathful response to sin, without utterly destroying the creature.35 In this way Christ is our substitute, for he bears the wrath and penalty of God upon the sin that he truly bears, so as to save us from this destruction. In an act of supreme love and justice, he is our penal substitute.
This account has an established pedigree. Developing the insights of Anselm and Thomas,36 it focuses on satisfying the divine justice/righteousness, by means of transferring or imputing our sin to Jesus Christ. Given prominence by John Calvin, it became for some Reformed theologians the explanation of Christ’s work. For the most part, however, penal substitution was held as one of several elements in a full explanation of Christ’s work, until in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries it calcified into a more stringent affirmation of penal substitution as ‘the one and only correct way of talking about the atonement’.37 The Scriptural support for this position is twofold. First, there is the witness so pervasive in Scripture to the reality of the divine judgement, punishment and wrath against sin. Second, there are those passages which either anticipate (in the Old Testament) or speak of Christ bearing our sin and punishment, such that Christ is the means of the fulfilment of the divine judgement, punishment and wrath (Lev. 16; Isa. 53; Rom. 3; 2 Cor. 5). Together, these two lines of thought form the foundation for penal substitution.
The debate concerning this theory is extensive, so I will focus on the topic of divine wrath in the hope of furthering our thesis and bringing clarity to a crucial part of the argument concerning penal substitution.38 The wrath of God is unlike his love or holiness, for it has no place as such within the life of the immanent Trinity. There was no wrath between Father, Son and Holy Spirit, which the triune God sought to share with us by means of his creative work. Wrath, we must say, is something new in the life of God – something new, due to the sin of the creature.39 What, then, is it? Is wrath an attribute at all?
First, if wrath is an alien mode of God’s divine life, then the focus should be first and foremost upon the natural mode of that same attribute, for it is this attribute, this aspect of the divine life, which God seeks to share with us through creation and redemption. Creation, as we have seen, is God’s means of sharing the divine life with the creature, to the mutual joy of Creator and creature alike. Wrath, then, is preceded by, and must ultimately give way to, its dominant and natural mode of activity: the loving self-involvement of God.40 This means that penal substitution, first and foremost, should focus on the love of God, witnessing to the reality of divine wrath only within this greater scheme. This would necessarily lead to substantial revisions in terms of how we express the necessity of Christ’s death and resurrection, in which the constructive vision of Christ sharing the love of God with us is centre stage (Jn 3:16). Such a sharing includes an account of the attributes of God in their alien mode, but in that order, and with that emphasis. This, in itself, would go some small way towards assuaging current critiques of penal substitution.41
Second, this balance and proportion frees us to explore the role of the alien mode of the divine attributes within Christ’s atonement. Does God sharing the divine life with us involve his attributes in an alien mode of activity (though one which is ordered towards a natural mode of relating)? We must answer this question with an unequivocal affirmation: ‘No doctrine of atonement may ignore this reality [of the inseparable unity of God’s wrath and his love], which is attested a thousand times in Scripture’ (TD, 55). God’s activity of blinding, hardening, crushing, destroying, punishing, exiling and forsaking, particularly evident throughout the Old Testament, but decisively present within the New Testament as well, leaves little room for us to affirm otherwise. The question is whether God, in Christ and through the latter’s taking our sin upon himself, bears the fullness of God’s alien mode of relating to sinful creation?42 To take one example, Christ is forsaken by the Father (Mt. 27:46). But what is forsakenness, if not the alien mode of the divine presence? For the sake of God’s presence with us, Christ bore our sin and the ensuing forsakenness of the Father, that in his resurrection and ascension to the Father we might in him enter the presence of God (Eph. 2:6).43
It is this point – the idea that in Christ God took upon himself the fullness of the alien mode of God’s righteous response to sin – that penal substitution affirms so helpfully. While Scripture does not affirm penal substitution with all its central elements in a single passage, the above reflections encourage us to consolidate the Bible’s teaching concerning justice/righteousness, wrath and Christ’s substitution and vicarious bearing of our sin. Does this amount to a full statement of the atonement? Only if two criteria are met. First, it must include the role of the resurrection in establishing us in the love of God and in his justice and righteousness, equipping us in the Spirit to extend that love, justice and righteousness into the world around us. Second, it must acknowledge its completeness only to the extent that it offers a full account of Christ’s saving work from the standpoint of divine justice/righteousness, and therefore one which must be accompanied by accounts rooted in other divine attributes. The net result is a (1) synthetic argument for penal substitution, while (2) demanding an overall constructive emphasis via the resurrection that focuses on the renewal of creation in justice/righteousness and (3) holding the door open for further complementary accounts of the work of Christ.
Was Jesus our penal substitute? Yes, but only inasmuch as there were bigger forces at play. In Christ, God showered his justice and righteousness upon, remaking us in his image that he might lead us in paths of righteousness (Ps. 23:3). But inasmuch as God, in his love, showers his justice upon us, he showers it upon us as sinners. And for justice to come into contact with sin is for it to renounce, reject and do away with it unequivocally. There is no place for injustice, for wrong and harm, within the nurturing and life-giving righteousness of God. But Christ, that we might be remade in the image of God, takes upon himself our sin that God might deal with this reality in the context of his own divine life. In this sense Christ is our penal substitute, within the larger dynamic of the triune God taking upon himself our plight, that we might share in his divine life, living lives in which ‘justice roll[s] down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream’ (Amos 5:24).
Conclusion: A symphonic account
Our work on the role of the divine attributes within the doctrine of the atonement leads to the conclusion that whether or not one holds to penal substitution is a question of mixed significance. Some would have it be the authoritative explanation of the work of Christ – the standard or litmus test for orthodoxy within this doctrine. Others acknowledge it as one of many historical theories of the atonement, and quietly (or not so quietly) dismiss it in favour of other construals of the doctrine. On our view, both require some chastening.
First, while penal substitution develops the biblical witness to the justice and wrath of God, and in this does the Church a service, it should not hold any sort of pre-eminence within our theology for the simple reason that as a theory of the atonement, it necessarily stands alongside other equally valid, beneficial and biblical theories of the work of Christ. While elevation of penal substitution might be a polemically strategic move given various historical and contextual factors, the strengths of such moves must be weighed with their weaknesses, and held in proper awareness of the fact that such elevation is strictly chastened by the theological structure and shape of the doctrine. It is therefore both possible and beneficial to the Church that there be those whose emphasis upon other aspects of the work of Christ balances the emphasis on penal substitution found in other circles.44
Second, given that penal substitution (properly developed in a Trinitarian manner with regard to the biblical understanding of divine justice) is a valid theory of Christ’s saving work which belongs in a full account of the doctrine, the reasons for which one might reject it are of considerable significance. If one does not hold to the doctrine simply because one is unfamiliar with it, being much more thoroughly acquainted with a sacrificial theory of the atonement, for instance, then that is a matter of little concern apart from our calling to seek a full knowledge of the triune God and the good news of Jesus Christ. However, an outright rejection of penal substitution raises different questions altogether, for the same arguments may very well compromise and undermine any biblical and traditional theory of Christ’s saving work.
The possibility exists that the theory of penal substitution in certain forms needs substantial revision.45 Whether that is the case is not the burden of this chapter. Rather, our concern is with the theological foundation for developing theories of the atonement, and specifically the way in which the divine attributes shape these theories. The result of our inquiry is a vision for the doctrine yielding an ongoing project of developing new aspects and theories of the atonement. Because the work of Jesus is the work of God incarnate, it is a work involving the whole of the divine character, the fullness of the divine perfections. Each of the divine attributes therefore opens the door to new insights, new standpoints from which to reflect upon the work of Christ. Because this work is primarily constructive, we should first and foremost emphasize the natural mode of God’s enacted character, the way in which he brings the character of the divine life to bear upon our plight, that we might share in that same life as his adopted children. But at the same time, because in this act God simultaneously confronts our sin, we must in this context develop the way that Christ bears our sin and therefore is the locus of the alien mode of God’s enacted character. The result of such study will be the ongoing development and discovery of more and more aspects of that which Christ saves us for and from, to the benefit of our worship and service as the people of God.
Notes
1The connection between the doctrines of the Trinity and divine attributes is that ‘God’s perfection is the fullness and inexhaustibility in which the triune God is and acts as the one he is.’ Webster, ‘It Was the Will’, 18.
2Though I do not develop this line of thought in the present work, it is vital that these attributes be properly construed, in keeping with God’s self-revelation. It is in the death and resurrection of Jesus that we receive the fullest revelation of God’s character. Cf. CD II/1, 257–677, and the salutary but much shorter: Cousar, A Theology of the Cross: The Death of Jesus in the Pauline Letters, 45–8.
3Edwards, ‘Of Satisfaction for Sin’, 565.
4Francis Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, vol. 2. Phillipsburg: P&R Publishing, 1992, 418.
5Ibid.
6Edwards, ‘Of Satisfaction for Sin’, 565.
7Ibid., 566.
8Dorus Paul Rudisill, The Doctrine of the Atonement in Jonathan Edwards and His Successors (New York: Poseidon Books, 1971), 15.
9Edwards, ‘Of Satisfaction for Sin’, 576.
10A number of textual difficulties present themselves with this particular collection. While I refer to them as Edwards’ work, I take due note that the text was edited, and not intended for publication as such by Edwards.
11Edwards, ‘Dissertation on the End for Which God Created the World.’
12‘The Wisdom of God Displayed in the Way of Salvation’, 142.
13Ibid., 144–5.
14Ibid., 145.
15Ibid., 145–7.
16As Holmes puts it, ‘[N]ecessarily, the whole volume [on soteriology] must deal with the divine perfections, since soteriology is grounded and built upon accounts of divine perfection, in its biblical and historical foundation, and in its contemporary expression.’ Stephen R. Holmes, ‘A Simple Salvation? Soteriology and the Perfections of God’, in God of Salvation, ed. Ivor J. Davidson and Murray A. Rae (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2011), 37.
17Augustine, Confessions, 31.
18Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, vol. 2. Phillipsburg: P&R Publishing, 1992, 418.
19Ibid., 37.
20Belousek, Atonement, 397.
21Ibid., 404.
22It is worth noting that in effect, both compromise the constancy of God, creating an untenable division between those things which God must be, and those which he can choose to be. Cf. Holmes, ‘A Simple Salvation? Soteriology and the Perfections of God’, 39.
23Ibid., 38.
24As Davidson puts it, ‘[I]f there is no straightforward insulation of divinity from the experience of the grave, there is also in this, at least as clearly, no suspension of God’s infinite abundance, no differentiation of his properties into the essential versus the optional, the eternally absolute versus the temporarily dispensable. There is but the enactment of that which God’s Goodness is, and thus is seen to be capable of being.’ Ivor J. Davidson, ‘Introduction: God of Salvation’, ibid., 2.
25Cf. Richard A. Muller, Dictionary of Latin and Greek Theological Terms: Drawn Principally from Protestant Scholastic Theology (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2006), 213.
26Augustine, The Trinity, trans. Edmund Hill (Brooklyn, NY: New City Press, 1991), 84.
27Johnson, God’s Being, 125.
28Cf. the role of the resurrection throughout the book of Acts, and the argument of Paul in 1 Corinthians 15.
29‘[God’s] saving work, attested in Scripture, is the reiteration and opening up in creaturely time of his eternal character.’ Davidson, ‘Introduction: God of Salvation’, 7.
30LW 51, 19. (Thanks to Robert Kolb for pointing out this distinction to me). Cf. Jeremy J. Wynne, Wrath among the Perfections of God’s Life (New York: T & T Clark, 2010), 111. Also see von Balthasar’s similar claim in TD, 192: ‘If . . . we see a God who has founded [the world order] in love and thus accompanies it, it is not hard to understand that his love can appear in the mode of anger, punishing the disruption of his order by the imposition of suffering’ (emphasis added). As I understand him, this concern is at the heart of Campbell’s project as well – vindicating the natural mode of God’s justice and holiness, in relation to the divine love. Campbell, The Nature of the Atonement, 51–2.
31In this context, I focus on rebellion against the divine character. The divine will is a concrete manifestation of the divine character, such that the two are in harmony. If we reverse this emphasis, our attention is drawn to matters of divine law and questions of obedience. While this has its place, I find it an overly narrow approach to understanding sin.
32Cole, God the Peacemaker, 68.
33This is path taken by Baker and Green in their work on shame within the Japanese culture. Baker and Green, Recovering, 153–70. This kind of work need not depend on natural theology or general revelation. Rather, it can use cultural engagement as an occasion for further and richer study of God’s self-revelation in Scripture.
34For recent critical and defensive explorations of penal substitution, cf. Derek Tidball, David Hilborn, and Justin Thacker, eds, The Atonement Debate: Papers from the London Symposium on the Theology of Atonement (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2008); Belousek, Atonement; Charles E. Hill and Frank A. James, eds, The Glory of the Atonement: Biblical, Historical and Practical Perspectives (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2004); Stephen R. Holmes, The Wondrous Cross: Atonement and Penal Substitution in the Bible and History (London: Paternoster, 2007); Jersak and Hardin, Stricken by God?
35The heart of penal substitution is Christ bearing our sin – not the problem of who will be punished.
36Johnson, ‘A Fuller Account: The Role of “Fittingness” in Thomas Aquinas’ Development of the Doctrine of the Atonement’, 310–17.
37Stephen R. Holmes, ‘Ransomed, Healed, Restored, Forgiven: Evangelical Accounts of the Atonement’, in The Atonement Debate: Papers from the London Symposium on the Theology of Atonement, ed. Derek Tidball, David Hilborn and Justin Thacker (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2008), 276.
38On the role of the doctrine of divine wrath throughout the history of the Church, cf. Stephen B. Murray, Reclaiming Divine Wrath: A History of a Christian Doctrine and Its Interpretation (New York: Peter Lang, 2011). See also the excellent chapter on the subject in: McCall, Forsaken, 49–92.
39For similar reasons (for where else is wrath so fully unleashed?) there is ‘in the event of the cross . . . a “newness” . . . the enactment of unity in unprecedented form, the accommodation of death and its consequences within God’s inextinguishable life’. Ivor Davidson, ‘Salvation’s Destiny: Heirs of God’, in God of Salvation, ed. Ivor J. Davidson and Murray A. Rae (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2011), 165.
40As von Balthasar puts it, there is an ‘inseparable unity of God’s wrath and his love. . . . Wrath is the sign of God’s involvement’ (TD, 55). Cf. Tony Lane, ‘The Wrath of God as an Aspect of the Love of God’, in Nothing Greater, Nothing Better: Theological Essays on the Love of God, ed. Kevin J. Vanhoozer (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001).
41I take it, for instance, that this would satisfy one of Belousek’s central concerns in the early chapters of Belousek, Atonement.
42Penal substitution is a misnomer in one sense, in that the emphasis is not upon Christ’s being punished in our place. Rather, the emphasis is upon him bearing our sin, and doing away with it through its destruction in the form of punishment. Cf. Luther’s argument in his commentary on Galatians: LW 26, 277ff. Campbell’s corrective in salutary, in his repudiation of a merely legal interpretation focused on punishment. In its place, Campbell offers a formulation more deeply relational, rooted in the fatherly love of God, but which still honours Christ’s bearing our sin in a manner akin to the underlying logic of penal substitution. Campbell, The Nature of the Atonement, 118. For an exceptionally helpful interpretation of Campbell’s work, see: T. F. Torrance, ‘John Mcleod Campbell (1800-1872)’, in Scottish Theology: From John Knox to John Mcleod Campbell (Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1996).
43Cf. my argument in Johnson, ‘A Temple Framework of the Atonement’.
44This is only fair. If proponents of penal substitution elevate it artificially over other theories and aspects of Christ’s saving work, they should expect that others will minimize it artificially.
45The strong affirmation of penal substitution, or any theological theory, for that matter, can and must go hand in hand with the confession that any theory as such may require substantial revision or even rejection on biblical grounds. Doctrine, like the Church, should always be reforming.