The Nature of the Atonement E-Book
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- Herausgeber: IVP Academic
- Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
- Serie: Spectrum Multiview Book Series
- Sprache: Englisch
A long history of biblical exegesis and theological reflection has shaped our understanding of the atonement today. The more prominent highlights of this history have acquired familiar names for the household of faith: Christus Victor, penal substitutionary, subjective, and governmental. Recently the penal substitutionary view, and particularly its misappropriations, has been critiqued, and a lively debate has taken hold within evangelicalism. This Spectrum Multiview volume offers a "panel" discussion of four views of atonement maintained by four evangelical scholars. The proponents and their views are: - Gregory A. Boyd: Christus Victor view - Joel B. Green: Kaleidescopic view - Bruce R. Reichenbach: Healing view - Thomas R. Schreiner: Penal Substitutionary view Following an introduction written by the editors, each participant first puts forth the case for their view. Each view is followed by responses from the other three participants, noting points of agreement as well as disagreement. This is a book that will help Christians understand the issues, grasp the differences and proceed toward a clearer articulation of their understanding of the atonement. Spectrum Multiview Books offer a range of viewpoints on contested topics within Christianity, giving contributors the opportunity to present their position and also respond to others in this dynamic publishing format.
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The Nature ofthe Atonement
FOUR VIEW
WITH CONTRIBUTIONS BY Gregory A. Boyd, Joel B. Green,
Bruce R. Reichenbach & Thomas R. Schreiner
To David K. Clark
Teacher, mentor, friend
Contents
The Atonement: An Introduction
BY PAUL R. EDDY AND JAMES BEILBY
This book is concerned with the complexities of the Christian view of the atonement—that is, the saving work of Jesus Christ. Broadly speaking, the term atonement—one of the few theological terms that is “wholly and indigenously English”—refers to a reconciled state of “at-one-ness” between parties that were formerly alienated in some manner1. According to the great eighteenth-century evangelist John Wesley, “Nothing in the Christian system is of greater consequence than the doctrine of the atonement.”2 Wesley wrote those words during the same century that gave birth to the Enlightenment. Since that time more than a few theologians have taken leave of Wesley’s sentiments. Writing in the late 1980s, Colin Gunton noted that over the previous two decades, matters other than the atonement had come to capture the attention of theologians, reducing the former “flood” of works on this topic to a virtual “trickle.”3 A similar observation, no doubt, led to Colin Grant’s mid-1980s announcement of “the abandonment of atonement.”4 Today however, two decades later, the waterway has begun to flow anew, and the atonement is again a matter for serious and widespread discussion at the theological roundtable.
A number of factors have served to foster renewed conversation and exploration concerning the atonement within Christian theological circles. A number of feminist and womanist critiques of traditional interpretations of the atonement have highlighted what many consider to be two troubling aspects of this central Christian doctrine. Here certain traditional atonement theories (i.e., satisfaction and penal substitution) are seen as encouraging apathetic tolerance of abuse by unduly glorifying the experience of suffering. Related to this, certain models are said to foster the idea that “cosmic child abuse” (i.e., the Father’s willing sacrifice of the Son) is the divinely ordained path to salvation.5
Another impetus behind the current renewed interest in the atonement involves the interdisciplinary reflections of literary critic René Girard and his scapegoat theory of ritual violence.6 According to Girard, societies commonly avoid widespread internal conflict and thus preserve the social order by channeling innate human hostility toward a scapegoat. Though truly innocent, the scapegoat, typically a person or group outside of or at the margins of the society, is identified as the source of the conflict and is consequently “sacrificed,” that is, punished, killed, or banished from the community. For Girard the gospel story offers what no other scapegoat scenario does: it clearly reveals that the scapegoat—Jesus—is innocent, and in doing so unmasks the ritual violence associated with the scapegoat myth for the tragic mistake that it is. In Girard’s assessment, however, Christian theology through the ages has all too often slipped back into an endorsement of sacred violence by encouraging the (re)interpretation of Jesus’ death in sacrificial terms and the like. While Girard’s take on the atonement leaves little of the traditional understanding of Christ’s saving work intact, there is no question that his theory has been an important force in the recent renaissance of atonement studies.7
Another factor that is highlighted in many of the current conversations surrounding the work of Christ is the ongoing quest for the most suitable image or theory by which to understand the atonement. This aged quest has always been complicated by the fact that the New Testament itself offers a wide variety of images to explain the atonement. John Driver has noted no less than ten motifs around which the New Testament atonement images can be clustered: conflict/victory/liberation; vicarious suffering; archetypal (i.e., representative man, pioneer, forerunner, firstborn); martyr; sacrifice; expiation/wrath of God; redemption; reconciliation; justification; and adoption family.8 From the patristic period onward, Christian theologians generally can be found acknowledging the rich diversity of ways that the manifold aspects of the atonement can be expressed while at the same time seeking to identify the heart of the atonement—the primary image that most powerfully and completely expresses the crux of the saving work of Christ.9 Particularly among evangelical theologians today, the question of how best to conceive of the atonement remains an important and contested issue, with the question of status of the penal substitution model often turning up at the core of the debate. Among the recent spate of new books on the topic, a good number represent adherents of the penal substitution theory responding to a variety of critics and in the process correcting what they perceive to be unflattering characterizations of their views.10
In no small part due to the landmark work of Gustaf Aulén’s (1879-1978) Christus Victor, the variety of atonement images and theories have come to be commonly categorized under three broad paradigms: Christus Victor (or classic/dramatic), objective and subjective.11 In essence, each of these paradigms focuses the primary emphasis of the atonement in a different direction.12 That is, each paradigm sees the central thrust of the work of Christ as designed to address a different fundamental problem that stands in the way of salvation.
The Christus Victor Paradigm
The Christus Victor paradigm, known alternatively as the classic or dramatic model, can be described as Satanward in its focus. In Aulén’s words, the central theme of this approach is “the idea of the Atonement as a Divine conflict and victory; Christ—Christus Victor—fights against and triumphs over the evil powers of the world, the ’tyrants’ under which mankind is in bondage and suffering.”13
More specifically, the Christus Victor paradigm understands the work of Christ primarily in terms of his conflict with and triumph over those elements of the kingdom of darkness that, according to the New Testament, hold humanity in their clutches, that is, Satan and his demonic hosts (Lk 13:10-16; Acts 10:38; 2 Tim 2:26; Heb 2:14-15), the sin power (Jn 8:34; Acts 8:23; Rom 6; 7:14-25; 8:2), death (Rom 6:23; 1 Cor 15:56; Heb 2:15) and even, particularly in its curse elements, the law (Rom 7:8-13; 1 Cor 15:56; Gal 3:13). In addition, the harrowing of hell motif has fed into the Christus Victor theme from ancient times (i.e., Eph 4:8-10; 1 Pet 3:18-20).
In one form or another, this view seems to have dominated the atonement theology of the early church for the first millennium (thus the label “classic view”). In certain quarters this general approach crystallized into a more defined model—the so-called ransom theory of the atonement. In the ransom theory, this conflict-victory theme was conjoined with the redemption-ransom motif to produce an explanatory model in which Jesus became the ransom by which God redeemed humanity from Satan’s power. Several elements came to characterize the theory: (1) Satan gained mastery over humanity when the first couple chose the path of sin in the garden. Satan retains this hold on humanity through the powers of the kingdom of darkness (sin, fear, death, etc.). (2) Through death, Jesus’ innocent life became the ransom price that was acceptable to Satan for the liberation/redemption of humanity. The New Testament passage often used to support this idea came from the very lips of Jesus: “The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mt 20:28; Mk 10:45; cf. 1 Tim 2:6). (3) Finally, the ransom theory typically emphasizes that Christ’s victory was achieved by outwitting the devil. The inherent injustice of taking an innocent life as a ransom is the basis on which Christ defeats Satan (a notion tied to the words of Paul in 1 Cor 2:8).
Among the more notable exponents of some version of the ransom theory are Irenaeus (at least in its embryonic form), Origen (the first to explicate the theory in any kind of detail), Gregory of Nyssa, Gregory the Great and Rufinus.14 A good number of other writers from the early centuries of the church can be found aligning themselves with the broader Christus Victor theme to one degree or another, whether in conjunction with an explicit ransom theory or not, including Tertullian, Chrysostom, Athanasius, Augustine and John of Damascus.15
However, with the coming of the eleventh century and Anselm’s satisfaction theory (including his critique of the more idiosyncratic elements of the ransom theory) came the demise of the predominance of the Christus Victor paradigm. Under Aulén’s assessment, Martin Luther revitalized the Christus Victor approach.16 According to Aulén, however, beginning with Melanchthon himself, Luther’s reappropriation of the classic theme was quickly lost within later Protestant circles as more objective, “Latin,” theories were allowed to displace it. Others question whether Aulén’s reading of Luther’s atonement theology as primarily rooted in the Christus Victor, as opposed to the objective, paradigm is truly reflective of his thought.17 In recent years there has been a growing consensus that the Christus Victor approach has played a central role in much Anabaptist thought on the atonement over the last several centuries.18
While aspects of the Christus Victor view and Aulén’s presentation of it have been subjected to criticism—for example, since Anselm’s famous critique, many have charged that it fosters a dangerous dualism, one that, among other things, threatens the very sovereignty of God—it nonetheless is widely acknowledged as highlighting an important element of the atonement that went largely neglected for centuries. At the very least it is clear that since the advent of Aulén’s book in 1931, a number of scholars have picked up on the Christus Victor theme, and have made it an important, if not the central, theme by which to understand the atoning work of Jesus Christ.19 Intriguingly, in recent years a number of theologians are making use of the Christus Victor paradigm and its conflict-victory motifs in order to flesh out a nonviolent liberationist (if typically demythologized) vision of the atonement.20
The Objective Paradigm
A central characteristic of any objective model of the atonement will be its “Godward” focus. That is, an objective theory of the atonement understands the work of Christ as primarily addressing a necessary demand of God. This trajectory of atonement theories has been denoted by such labels as “substitutionary,” “Latin,” “commercial” and “Anselmian.” Theories that fall within this paradigm tend to emphasize such New Testament motifs as vicarious suffering, sacrifice, justification and propitiation/expiation.21 Those passages that reflect the sin-bearing elements of the paradigmatic Isaiah 53 are important here. Many see Paul as capturing the heart of the objective paradigm when he writes: “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor 5:21). And from another key Pauline text:
Since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood, effective through faith. He did this to show his righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over the sins previously committed; it was to prove at the present time that he himself is righteous and that he justifies the one who has faith in Jesus. (Rom 3:23-26 NRSV)
Anselm’s satisfaction theory of the atonement is the classic example of this type. Although the seeds of Anselm’s theory can be traced back to Tertullian (with his emphasis on penance and the satisfaction due to God from sinful humanity, a notion inspired by Roman law) and Cyprian, it was Anselm of Canterbury (1033-1109) who in his famous little book Cur Deus Homo? (Why God Became Human) delineated this view in a robust form.
The main outline of Anselm’s theory can be summarized by the following six points: (1) The essence of sin is humanity’s failure to render to God what is rightfully due him; sin dishonors God. (2) It is humanity’s responsibility to restore to God what they have robbed him of, as well as to make reparation above and beyond for injuring and offending him. God’s honor inherently demands such restoration and reparation. (3) Humanity can never restore such a debt. Even if humans did their best and did not sin further, they would only be rendering what God is already due; the necessary reparation above and beyond would always be left undone. Beyond this, humanity lives in a state of bondage to the devil. (4) God is left with two basic options: punish humanity as they deserve, or accept satisfaction made on their behalf. (5) But now the predicament: satisfaction can only be made by a human since it is humanity that owes God the debt, yet no mere human has the resources to make satisfaction for the race. (6) The sole solution is to be found in the mystery of Jesus Christ, the God-man. As God, he has the ability to make satisfaction; as man, his satisfaction can be made on behalf of humanity. Anselm grounds his discussion of both the incarnation and the atonement on terms of reason and necessity. In the final dialogical exchange between his two interlocutors, Boso says, “All things which you have said seem to me reasonable and incontrovertible…. For, in proving that God became man by necessity,… you convince both Jews and Pagans by the mere force of reason.”22
The attractiveness of Anselm’s theory in the Middle Ages is at least partly to be explained by the fact that it capitalized on a notion that was intimately tied to the church’s practice of penance as well as the recently arisen feudal system—namely the idea of satisfaction. The satisfaction theory had the advantages of avoiding the eccentricities of the ransom theory while providing an explication of the work of Christ that both takes human sin seriously and offers a reasonable explanation of how Jesus’ death satisfies the demands of God’s honor.
With the advent of the Reformation period came not only theological innovations but societal transformations as well, changes that would prove to have a bearing on atonement theory. Within Europe the gradual fading of the feudal system and the emergence of Teutonic political theory and its notion of law paved the way for a new expression of the objective paradigm: penal substitution.23 Here the fundamental issue is that of a legal penal transaction between God and Christ for the salvific benefit of humanity. As a righteous judge, God cannot allow his law to be broken without punishment. Christ’s sacrifice satisfies God’s requirements of justice. It thus propitiates God’s wrath toward sinners and is the basis on which divine forgiveness can righteously be extended to them. A wide variety of biblical passages can be marshaled in support of this view. Isaiah declares that the suffering Servant was “wounded for our transgressions” and “bruised for our iniquities” (Is 53:5 KJV). Paul asserts that Christ was “delivered over to death for our sins” (Rom 4:25), and that God “made him who had no sin to be sin” (2 Cor 5:21). The first epistle of John affirms a similar understanding when he states that Jesus is the “atoning sacrifice for our sins” (1 Jn 2:2).
The roots of the penal substitution view are discernable in the writings of John Calvin (1509-1564), though it was left to later expositors to systematize and emphasize it in its more robust forms. The penal substitutionary view has come to characterize the standard Reformed/Calvinist approach to the atonement. A long line of respected evangelical thinkers have embraced some version of it, including Charles Hodge, W. G. T. Shedd, Louis Berkhof, John Murray, Leon Morris and John Stott.24
During the Reformation period, another expression of the objective paradigm arose: the moral government theory. This theory, first championed by the erstwhile Calvinist turned Arminian Hugo Grotius (1583-1645), offers something of a third quotient over against the satisfaction theory of Anselm and the moral influence theory of Abelard—or, as the lines were drawn in Grotius’s day, over against the Reformed penal substitution theory and the Socinian moral example theory. Like the penal substitutionary approach, it strives to take God’s law and justice seriously. Similar to the subjective theories, however, it emphasizes that God primarily is to be viewed as loving Creator-Father rather than wrathful Judge.
The moral government theory views God as both the loving Creator and moral Governor of the universe. As loving Creator, God has no intrinsic need to punish us before forgiving us. Rather, like the father in the parable of the prodigal son, God is always waiting with open arms to forgive. On the other hand, as the just moral Governor of the universe, God cannot simply pass over human sins as if they were nothing. In Christ’s death, God shows us the seriousness of violating his law, which then deters us from further sinning. While he requires that sin be dealt with, God does not necessarily require a penalty or punishment equal to the offense in every case. As long as sinners are deterred from committing future sins, God has justly upheld his governing role. Thus, rather than punish humanity, God’s hatred of sin is demonstrated by the suffering of Christ. The moral government view has often been adopted by those within the Wesleyan/Arminian tradition.25
The Subjective Paradigm
The subjective trajectory of atonement theories—alternatively known as the moralistic, humanistic or Abelardian paradigm—are held together by the common conviction that the primary focus of the atonement is humanward, that is, the atoning work of Christ is designed first and foremost to effect a change in human beings. Subjective theories draw primarily from New Testament themes such as the reconciliation, revelatory (i.e., Jesus as revelation of God’s love) and family-adoption (i.e., God as loving Father) motifs. The healing motif found throughout the Scriptures offers another important humanward dimension of the atonement (Is 53:5; Mk 2:17; 1 Pet 2:24), one that is put forward in this book by Bruce Reichenbach for consideration as the primary lens through which to understand the atoning work of Christ.26 For many expressions of this paradigm, a banner passage is Paul’s declaration in Romans: “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom 5:8). Any New Testament text that proclaims God’s love for humanity and consequent desire to save sinners can be brought forth as evidence for this interpretation of the atonement (e.g., Jn 3:16; 1 Jn 4:8, 16).
It is commonly acknowledged that the most famed exponent of the subjectivist approach is Peter Abelard (1079-1142).27 Abelard, like Anselm, had little time for the ransom theory of the early church, with its conviction that Satan possessed some sort of legitimate rights over sinful humanity. Such a dualistic view was tantamount to making the devil into a rival god. On the other hand, Abelard was also repulsed by certain features of the Anselmic satisfaction theory, which (at least in its easily caricatured forms) one could construe as turning God into a wrathful devil. Abelard’s primary answer to the atonement question came in the form of a third broad paradigm: The work of Christ chiefly consists of demonstrating to the world the amazing depth of God’s love for sinful humanity. The atonement was directed primarily at humanity, not God. There is nothing inherent in God that must be appeased before he is willing to forgive sinful humanity. The problem rather lies in the sinful, hardened human heart, with its fear and ignorance of God. Humanity refuses to turn to God and be reconciled. Through the incarnation and death of Jesus Christ, the love of God shines like a beacon, beckoning humanity to come and fellowship. Abelard’s view, which has come to be known as the moral influence theory, was joined with a fairly strong doctrine of election (something missing from most of the contemporary Abelardian reconstructions). Abelard was eventually challenged in his views by Bernard of Clairvaux, condemned by the Council of Sens (1140), and finally excommunicated. His general approach to the atonement, however, has lived on in various forms throughout the last millennium.28
During the Reformation era another form of the subjective view was proposed by Faustus Socinus (1539-1604). It is rooted in a basic rejection of vicarious satisfaction as having anything to do with the work of Christ. Socinus’s view, which has come to be known as the moral example theory, emphasizes that the true value of Jesus’ death is to be found in the fact that it offers us a perfect example of self-sacrificial dedication to God. Thus, according to Socinus, “Jesus Christ is our savior because he announced to us the way of eternal salvation, confirmed, and in his own person, both by the example of his life and by rising from the dead, clearly showed it, and will give that eternal life to us who have faith in him.”29 Socinus has, of course, been charged with any number of heretical teachings, including an antitrinitarian theology proper, a mistaken Christology, and a Pelagian view of humanity and sin. To these castigations, critics of the subjective paradigm would also add an anemic, overly human-centered theory of the work of Christ.
The rise of modern liberal theology brought a new appreciation for the Abelardian approach to the atonement. In North America, Horace Bushnell became a well-known exponent, and his counterpart in Britain was Hastings Rashdall.30 Others whose thought evinces sympathies with the subjective paradigm include Fredrick Schleiermacher, Albrecht Ritschl and R. S. Franks.31
Four Views on the Atonement: An Evangelical Dialogue
The purpose of this book is to foster dialogue between four different interpretations of the atonement. Each contributor offers an essay explicating and defending their particular view of the atonement. Each of the four major essays is followed by responses from the other three contributors. The four views offered are (1) the Christus Victor view, presented by Gregory Boyd;32 (2) the penal substitution view, presented by Thomas Schreiner;33 (3) the healing view, presented by Bruce Reichenbach;34 and (4) a kaleidoscopic view, presented by Joel Green.35 The first two views, of course, fall squarely within one of the standard paradigms—the Christus Victor and the objective, respectively. The third view, atonement as healing, while not reducible to a merely subjective approach, does emphasize the subjective dimension of the atonement in a way that other common evangelical models do not. Finally, the kaleidoscopic view suggests that the wide variety of New Testament atonement images should lead us to conclude that, while each of the paradigms play an important role in explicating the work of Christ, none of them has a claim to priority. It is important to note that all of the contributors represented in this book acknowledge that the New Testament provides a plethora of images by which to understand Christ’s work, and that each of them provides a valuable window into the workings of the atonement. However, each of the first three views (Christus Victor, penal substitution, and healing) will contend that their particular theory has a justifiable claim to priority over the others, while the kaleidoscopic view argues that none of the views has a priority status and that to emphasize only one is to misunderstand the atonement.
We would like to thank each of our contributors—Greg Boyd, Joel Green, Bruce Reichenbach and Tom Schreiner—for their valuable role in this project and for their collegiality throughout the process. Our thanks also goes to our IVP editor Dan Reid, who encouraged and nurtured this project from start to finish. We also offer a word of grateful remembrance for Philip Quinn. Professor Quinn began this project as one of our contributors but passed away before the project was brought to completion. He will be remembered for many things, among them being the way that he brought his acute philosophical sensibilities to a variety of theological considerations, including the atoning work of Christ.36 As always, we are forever grateful for the loving encouragement of our families, especially our wives, Michelle Beilby and Kelly Eddy. Finally, we want to express our gratitude to our teacher, our mentor and our friend David K. Clark. It is to him that we dedicate this book.
ONE
Christus Victor View
GREGORY A. BOYD
“The Son of God was revealed for this purpose,
to destroy the works of the devil.”
1 JOHN 3:8
One mark of great intelligence is that a person can solve a number of problems with a single stroke. I believe this is why Paul speaks of the “rich variety” of God’s secret and hidden wisdom in having his Son become incarnate and die on Calvary (Eph 3:10; cf. 1 Cor 1:30; 2:7). Through the incarnation, life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ the infinitely wise God solved a number of problems. Among other things, through Christ God defeated the devil and his cohorts (Heb 2:14; 1 Jn 3:8); revealed the definitive truth about himself (Rom 5:8, cf. Jn 14:7-10); reconciled all things, including humans, to himself (2 Cor 5:18-19; Col 1:20-22); forgave us our sins (Acts 13:38; Eph 1:7); healed us from our sin-diseased nature (1 Pet 2:24); poured his Spirit on us and empowered us to live in relation to himself (Rom 8:2-16); and gave us an example to follow (Eph 5:1-2; 1 Pet 2:21). God’s wisdom is displayed in a “rich variety” indeed!
Given the multifaceted design of Christ’s life, death and resurrection, it is not at all surprising that over time the church created a diversity of conceptual models of the atonement. Hence we have various Christus Victor models, substitutionary models, healing models, exemplary models, apotheosis models, recapitulation models and moral government models of the atonement. Each model legitimately expresses a facet of what the incarnation, life, death and resurrection of Christ accomplished.
Some in our postmodern context argue that we should simply leave it at that. While various cultural and personal contexts may call for one model to be at times emphasized over others, these people argue that we should not attempt to defend any one view as more fundamental than others or attempt to fashion the various models into a single coherent framework. I’m deeply sympathetic to the sentiment. Yet it seems to me perfectly natural and, if carried out with an irenic spirit, potentially beneficial to strive for an encompassing conceptual model that might reveal an “inner logic” to all aspects of Christ’s work. Consider that every advance we have ever made in human understanding has been the result of sticking to the conviction that reality is unified while striving to comprehend it as such. We strive to integrate apparently disparate facts into a unified framework. If we believe in the reality of the atonement, therefore, I do not see why we should avoid trying to integrate the various facets of the “rich variety” of God’s wisdom into a coherent whole.
This is not a merely theoretical interest. As has been the case with every advance in science, matters of practical consequence may be at stake. How we understand the “rich variety” of God’s wisdom behind the atonement may affect how we apply the atonement to areas of our life (a point I will return to at the end of this chapter).
I obviously cannot try to accomplish this unifying task in the limited space of this present essay. Yet I want to at least propose a framework within which such a project might be carried out. More specifically, I’m suggesting that a unifying framework may be found in the view of Christ’s work that dominated the thinking of the church for the first thousand years of its history: namely the Christus Victor model. This model centers on the truth that through the incarnation, life, death and resurrection of Christ, God defeated the devil. In this essay I will argue that this aspect of Christ’s work can plausibly be construed as more fundamental than other aspects of Christ’s work and that other aspects of the “rich variety” of the wisdom behind Christ’s work can be best understood within this context.1
I start by providing the scriptural background for the Christus Victor model. I follow this with a brief examination of those New Testament passages that are most central to this understanding of Christ’s life and work. I then discuss five clues we find in the New Testament that suggest something about how Christ defeated the devil while also revealing that the atonement concerns every aspect of Christ’s life and teaching, not just his death and resurrection. This is followed by a brief sketch of how other facets of Christ’s work might be understood in the context of the Christus Victor model. I conclude by summarizing eight points that I believe support my thesis that the Christus Victor model of the atonement is more fundamental and more encompassing than other atonement models.
Background: The Warfare Motif in Scripture
The Christus Victor view of the atonement cannot be appropriately understood without an appreciation for the broader spiritual warfare motif that runs throughout Scripture. Though the motif of spiritual warfare is rarely given its full due, the biblical narrative could in fact be accurately described as a story of God’s ongoing conflict with and ultimate victory over cosmic and human agents who oppose him and who threaten his creation.2
Hostile waters, monsters and gods. In the Old Testament this warfare is most commonly depicted in terms of God’s battle with hostile waters and vicious sea monsters that were believed to surround and threaten the earth. Whereas non-Israelites looked to various deities (e.g., Marduk and Baal) to resist these sinister cosmic forces, the Hebrews declared that it was Yahweh alone who warred against, rebuked, guarded and trampled on the malevolent waters, and who vanquished the cosmic monsters (e.g., Ps 29:3-4, 10; 74:10-14; 77:16, 19; 89:9-10; 104:2-9; Prov 8:27-29; Job 7:12; 9:8, 17; 26:12-13; 38:6-11; 40:15-34; Ezek 29:3; 32:2; Jer 51:34; Hab 3:8-15; Nahum 1:4).
We also read a great deal about rebel gods in the Old Testament, created spirit beings with whom God and his heavenly host do battle. As is the case with the hostile waters and cosmic monsters, ancient Israelites never separated battles that took place on earth from battles that took place among the gods (e.g., 2 Sam 5:23-24; 1 Chron 12:22; Judg 11:21-24).3 What went on in (what we today would call) the “spiritual realm” affects what transpires in history, and vice versa. So in the ancient Israelite worldview, part of the explanation for why a prayer is not answered quickly, why people suffer injustice and are in poverty and why “natural” disasters fall on someone may have something to do with the contingent activity of these rebel gods (e.g., Dan 10; Ps 82; Job 1—2).4
These depictions of evil in terms of hostile waters, cosmic monsters and rebel gods are in varying degrees clearly influenced by standard ancient Near Eastern mythological imagery. Yet they nevertheless powerfully communicate the understanding that the earth and its inhabitants exist in a cosmic war zone. Order in the cosmos and the preservation of Israel depend on God’s continually fighting against these evil cosmic forces. In contrast to their pagan neighbors, Old Testament authors of course express unprecedented confidence that Yahweh is capable of keeping these cosmic forces of chaos at bay and ultimately overthrowing them. At the same time, however, it’s clear they understand Yahweh’s victory over these forces to be praiseworthy precisely because they believe these opposing cosmic forces are formidable and that the battles in the spiritual realm are real.5
Satan in the New Testament. Owing to a number of historical factors, the understanding that the earth is a war zone between good and evil cosmic forces intensified significantly among Jews in the two centuries leading up to Christ, commonly referred to as the apocalyptic period.6 While there is significant theological diversity among apocalyptic writers, all attribute far more influence to gods, angels and demons than Old Testament canonical writings do.7 What is more, all share an acute awareness that the earth is held hostage by evil forces to such a degree that it can only be freed by a radical in-breaking of God, something they believed was going to happen in the very near future.
It was into this world that Jesus came, and all indications are that he and his earliest followers shared and in some respects intensified still further this apocalyptic worldview. For example, the role given to Satan by Jesus and his followers is without precedent in previous apocalyptic writings. According to John, Jesus believed that Satan was “the ruler of this world” (Jn 12:31; 14:30; 16:11).8 The word translated “ruler” (archōn) customarily referred to “the highest official in a city or a region in the Greco-Roman world.”9 While Jesus and his followers of course believed that God was the ultimate Lord over all creation, they clearly viewed Satan as the functional lord of earth at the present time.
Along the same lines, Satan is depicted as possessing “all the kingdoms of the world”—to the point where he gives authority to rule these kingdoms to anyone he pleases (Lk 4:5-6). In fact, the various kingdoms of the world can be described as a single kingdom under Satan’s rule (Rev 11:15, cf. Rev 13). John goes so far as to claim that the entire world is “under the power of the evil one” (1 Jn 5:19), and Paul does not shy away from labeling Satan “the god of this world” (2 Cor 4:4) and “the ruler of the power of the air” (Eph 2:2). Because of this pervasive and oppressive diabolic influence, Paul, in typical apocalyptic fashion, depicts this present world system as fundamentally evil (Gal 1:4).
Everything Jesus was about was centered on vanquishing this empire, taking back the world that Satan had seized and restoring its rightful viceroys—humans—to their position of guardians of the earth (Gen 1:26-28; cf. 2 Tim 2:12; Rev 5:10). Each one of Jesus’ many healings and deliverances diminished Satan’s hold on the world and liberated people, to whatever degree, from his stronghold.10 Peter succinctly summarized Jesus’ ministry to Cornelius when he said that Jesus “went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil.” (Acts 10:38, emphasis added). Gustaf Wingren captures this central motif well:
When Jesus heals the sick and drives out evil spirits, Satan’s dominion is departing and God’s kingdom is coming (Mt 12:22-29). All Christ’s activity is therefore a conflict with the Devil (Acts 10:38). God’s Son took flesh and became man that he might overthrow the power of the Devil, and bring his works to nought (Heb 2.14f.; I John 3.8).11
The battle against the powers. Intensifying the apocalyptic view of the time, Jesus and the New Testament authors saw demonic influences not only in demonized and diseased people but directly or indirectly in everything that was not consistent with God’s reign. For example, swearing oaths, temptation, lying, legalism, false teachings, anger, spiritual blindness and persecution were all seen as being satanically inspired.12 This ought not surprise us since, again, Jesus and his followers all believed the devil had significant control of the entire world (1 Jn 5:19). The kingdom of the roaring lion (1 Pet 5:8) was an ever-present reality to Jesus and his earliest disciples. For this reason Paul taught that whatever earthly struggles disciples found themselves involved in, they must understand that their real struggle was against “the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Eph 6:12; cf. 2 Cor 10:3-5).
This last Pauline passage brings up a final and very important aspect of the New Testament’s apocalyptic worldview. Beyond the frequent references to Satan and demons throughout the New Testament, we find Paul (and others, e.g., 1 Pet 3:21-22) making reference to other spiritual powers, most of which have their counterpart in the apocalyptic literature of the time. Thus we read about “rulers,” “principalities,” “powers” and “authorities” (Rom 8:38; 13:1; 1 Cor 2:6, 8; 15:24; Eph 1:21; 2:2; 3:10; 6:12; Col 1:16; 2:10, 15), along with “dominions” (Eph 1:21; Col 1:16), “cosmic powers” (Eph 6:12), “thrones” (Col 1:16), “spiritual forces” (Eph 6:12), “elemental spirits” (Col 2:8, 20; Gal 4:3, 8-9) and other spiritual entities.13 For the sake of brevity I will follow the precedent set by Walter Wink and simply refer to this vast array of cosmic powers as “the powers.”
There has been a good deal of discussion surrounding what precisely Paul and others were referring to with these various titles, and while certain matters continue to be debated, there is widespread consensus that these powers are at the very least closely related to (and, some argue, identical with) the destructive spiritual force of various social structures and people groups—nations, governments, religions, classes, races, tribes and other social groups, for example.14
It is arguably for this reason that Paul does not see “sin” first and foremost as a matter of individual behavior, as most modern Westerners do. He rather conceives of “sin” (and related concepts such as the “law” and the “flesh”) as a quasi-autonomous power that holds people groups as well as individuals in bondage (e.g., Rom 3:9; 6:6-12; 7:7-20, 23, 25). This is why people can never hope to break the power of sin and fulfill the law by their own effort. As in much apocalyptic thought, Paul believed what was needed was nothing less than God breaking into human history to destroy the power of sin and rescuing us from the cosmic powers that keep us in bondage to sin. This is precisely what Paul and all early Christians believed happened with the advent of Jesus Christ. And this is the essence of the Christus Victor view of the atonement.
Christ’s Victory over the Powers
For Luther and other Reformers the central theological issue that needed addressing was how individual sinners could be made righteous before an all-holy God who cannot leave sin unpunished. But as numerous scholars in the last several decades have confirmed, this was not the main problem most first century Jews struggled with.15 As was the case with Paul, the central concern of most first-century Jews was over how people could get free from the oppressive and destructive force of the cosmic powers that had seized the world. Most fundamentally it was in these categories that the followers of Jesus came to understand the significance of his life, death and resurrection.
Christ’s victory over enemies. According to the New Testament, the central thing Jesus did was drive out the “ruler of this world” (Jn 12:31). He came to “destroy the works of the devil” (1 Jn 3:8). He came to “destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil” in order to “free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death” (Heb 2:14-15). Jesus lived, died and rose again to establish a new reign that would ultimately “put all his enemies under his feet” (1 Cor 15:25). Though “the strong man” was “fully armed,” one who was “stronger than he” had finally arrived who could attack and overpower him (Lk 11:21-22). While the cosmic “thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy,” Jesus came into the world to vanquish the thief so that all “may have life, and have it abundantly” (Jn 10:10). Jesus “disarmed the rulers and authorities and made a public example of them, triumphing over them” (Col 2:15). In a word, Jesus came to end the cosmic war that had been raging from time immemorial and to set Satan’s captives free (Lk 4:18; Eph 4:8).
The first messianic prophecy given in Scripture—indeed the first prophecy period—announced just this: a descendent of Eve would crush the head of the serpent who originally deceived humanity into joining in his rebellion (Gen 3:15).16 It is therefore not surprising that the original disciples expressed what the Messiah accomplished in terms of a victory over the ancient serpent.
The very first Christian sermon, according to Luke, centered on Christ’s cosmic victory. After the Holy Spirit was poured out on the day of Pentecost, Peter stood up and preached:
This Jesus God raised up, and of that all of us are witnesses. Being therefore exalted at the right hand of God, and having received from the Father the promise of the Holy Spirit, he has poured out this that you both see and hear. For David did not ascend into the heavens, but he himself says,
“The Lord said to my Lord,
’Sit at my right hand,
until I make your enemies your footstool.’”
Therefore let the entire house of Israel know with certainty that God has made him both Lord and Messiah, this Jesus whom you crucified. (Acts 2:32-36).
The central thing Jesus did, according to Peter, was fulfill Psalms 110:1. Jesus had been raised to a position of divine power (the Lord’s “right hand”) over his defeated and humiliated enemies (who are now his “footstool”). In an apocalyptic Jewish context, to say the kingdom of God has come was to say the kingdom of Satan has been defeated.
This theme of victory over cosmic foes pervades the entire New Testament. Indeed Psalm 110 is the most frequently cited passage in the New Testament, and it always, in a variety of ways, is used to express the truth that Christ is Lord because he has defeated God’s enemies.17 The significance of this is difficult to overstate. In the words of Oscar Cullman:
Nothing shows more clearly how the concept of the present Lordship of Christ and also of his consequent victory over the angel powers stands at the very center of early Christian thought than the frequent citation of Ps. 110:1, not only in isolated books, but in the entire NT.18
Through his incarnation, life, teachings, death and resurrection, Jesus manifested the power of God over Satan, demons and the entire spectrum of rebellious principalities and powers. The one who created “thrones… dominions… rulers… [and] powers” (Col 1:16) became incarnate, died and was resurrected in order for God “to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross” (Col 1:20). This is what Christ accomplished. In the words of Karl Heim, the cross is “God’s final settlement of the Satanic opposing power which has arisen against God.”19
Salvation as deliverance from the devil. Because the main thing Christ accomplished was that he defeated the devil, we are not surprised to find that salvation in the New Testament is frequently depicted as freedom from the devil’s oppression. For example, the message Paul received when he first encountered Christ was that he was being sent to the Gentiles “to open their eyes so that they may turn from darkness to light and from the power of Satan to God, so that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in [Christ]” (Acts 26:17-18).
Through Paul, God was going to free Gentiles from “the god of this world” who had “blinded the minds of the unbelievers” (2 Cor 4:4) and thereby set them free from the power of Satan and bring them into the power of God. Because of this—and note closely the logical order—they would be in a position to “receive forgiveness of sins” as well as a place among the community that is set apart (“sanctified”) by God. Salvation clearly involves forgiveness of sins, but this forgiveness is itself rooted in a person getting freed from Satan’s grip, and therefore freed from the controlling power of sin.
A multitude of other passages captures the same dynamic. Salvation is most fundamentally about escaping “from the snare of the devil, having been held captive by him to do his will” (2 Tim 2:26). It’s about being “set free from the present evil age” (Gal 1:4) and liberated from our “enslave[ment] to the elemental spirits of the world” (Gal 4:3; cf. Rom 6:18; 8:2; Gal 5:1; Heb 2:14-15). It’s about being “enabled… to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light” by being “rescued… from the power of darkness and transferred… into the kingdom of his beloved Son” (Col 1:12-13). This inheritance involves receiving “redemption, the forgiveness of sins” (Col 1:14), but we have this inheritance only because we’ve been “transferred” out of Satan’s dominion and brought under the reign of God through his Son.
Similarly, Peter notes that baptism saves believers “through the resurrection of Jesus Christ, who has gone into heaven and is at the right hand of God, with angels, authorities, and powers made subject to him” (1 Pet 3:21-22). The ordinance of baptism has meaning, Peter says, not because it is a literal washing (v. 21) but because it connects the believer with the death and resurrection of Christ. And the foremost thing that the death and resurrection of Christ accomplished, we see once again, was the subjugation of all cosmic powers under him. In baptism, therefore, believers express and participate in Christ’s cosmic victory. Indeed, Peter seems to suggest (however cryptically and controversially) that because of the cosmic significance of what Christ has accomplished, even some who “in former times did not obey” can now be set free (1 Pet 3:19-20).
So too Paul writes that our trust in Christ means that we die to the “elemental spirits” in Christ (Col 2:20) and grow into the fullness of Christ who now is “the head of every ruler and authority” (Col 2:10). Through the cross and resurrection, Christ disarmed and defeated these powers, to the point of making them a “public example” (a term used when military leaders would parade defeated soldiers through their city). Consequently, all who trust in Christ are incorporated into him and therefore share in this cosmic victory. This is the essential meaning of “salvation” in the New Testament. Everything Satan and the diabolic powers had on us—all the sin that put us under their oppression—has lost its power and we have therefore been set free from all condemnation (Col 2:14-15).
The cosmic and soteriological significance of the cross. I might summarize what I have been saying by noting that in the Christus Victor view of the atonement—in sharp contrast to all other views—the cosmic significance of Christ’s work is ontologically more fundamental than its soteriological significance. Of course, the soteriological significance of the cross is the meaning that is perhaps most important to us, and we should never minimize it. But we only accurately understand and appreciate this significance if we understand it in the context of the cosmic significance of Christ’s victory.
It is for this reason that Paul discusses the cosmic significance of Christ’s work—how he has in principle brought an end to the war with the principalities and powers (Col 1:15-20)— and only then concludes:
And you who [like the rebel powers] were once estranged and hostile [to God] in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his fleshly body through death, so as to present you holy and blameless and irreproachable before him. (Col 1:21-22, emphasis added).
We are reconciled because the cosmos has been reconciled. Because the rebel powers have been put in their place, we can be presented “holy and blameless” before God.
Similarly, in Ephesians 1—2, Paul first glories in Christ’s cosmic significance, whereby all God’s enemies were placed “under his feet” (Eph 1:20-22) before he celebrates the fact that we who once followed “the course of this world” and “the ruler of the power of the air” have been “made… alive together with Christ” (Eph 2:2, 5). This freedom involves forgiveness for the trespasses that placed us under the rulers’ authority and thus made us spiritually dead (Eph 2:1). But this soteriological significance is simply an aspect of the broader cosmic significance of Christ’s work. Because the “strong man” has been disarmed and tied up—and only because the strong man has been disarmed and tied up—his “property” (the earth) gets “plundered,” and the captives get set free (Lk 11:21-22)!
The move from cosmic to soteriological significance is manifested in a number of ways in the New Testament, especially when it speaks of the disciple’s life in Christ. For example, it’s only because the devil has been defeated, together with sin and the law, which sin used against us, that we can be assured that the accuser can no longer condemn us of sin (Rom 8:1, 31, 33; Col 2:13-15; cf. Rev 12:10). And it’s only because the one who once ruled the world has in principle been driven out (Jn 12:31), disarmed (Col 2:15) and destroyed (1 Jn 3:8) that disciples can be assured that no cosmic power can separate us from the love of God (Rom 8:35-39).
Similarly, it’s only because we who are disciples know that the same power that positioned Christ “far above all rule and authority and power and dominion” is now at work in us that we can have unwavering confidence that we too shall overcome (Eph 1:18-21). Only because Christ conquered Satan and sin can we be confident that through Christ we can “overcome the evil one” (1 Jn 2:13-14) and overcome the power of sin (1 Jn 5:18). Only because the one who held the keys of death has been destroyed can we who trust in Christ live free from the fear of death (Heb 2:14-15). Only because the cross defeated the devil can we who trust in Christ overcome “that ancient serpent, who is called the Devil and Satan,” for we war against him “by the blood of the lamb and by the world of [our] testimony” (Rev 12:9, 11).
In other words, our personal and social victories participate in Christ’s cosmic victory. Everything the New Testament says about the soteriological significance of Christ’s work is predicated on the cosmic significance of his work. Yet only the Christus Victor view captures the centrality of this cosmic, warfare significance and thus properly expresses the soteriological significance of Christ’s work.
Salvation as a cosmic and anthropological reality. As alluded to earlier, the New Testament concept of salvation is centered on our participation in Christ’s cosmic victory over the powers. It does not first and foremost mean “salvation from God’s wrath” or “salvation from hell,” as many Western Christians mistakenly assume—often with negative consequences for their mental picture of God or with antinomian consequences for their life. Rather, as James Kallas says:
Since the cosmos itself is in bondage, depressed under evil forces, the essential content of the word “salvation” is that the world itself will be rescued, or renewed, or set free. Salvation is a cosmic event affecting the whole of creation.
… Salvation is not simply the overcoming of my rebellion and the forgiveness of my guilt, but salvation is the liberation of the whole world process of which I am only a small part.20
Christ has in principle freed the cosmos from its demonic oppression and thus freed all inhabitants of the cosmos who will simply submit to this new loving reign. The cosmos that had been “groaning in labor pains” because it was subjected to “the bondage [of] decay” has now been and is yet being set free (Rom 8:19-22). And we who were the originally intended viceroys of the earth (Gen 1:26-28) have also been and are yet being released from bondage and reestablished to our rightful position as co-rulers of the earth with Christ (2 Tim 2:12; Rev 5:10).21 We are saved from the power of God’s archenemy, saved from the destruction that would have been the inevitable consequences of our sin, saved from our fallen inability to live in right relatedness with God, saved from the idolatrous, futile striving to find “life” from the things of the world, saved from our meaninglessness and saved to forever participate in the fullness of life, joy, power and peace that is the reign of the triune God.
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