For centuries the story of the prodigal son has been called “the gospel in the Gospel.” If across the centuries this is the way the church has seen this parable, how is it that the atonement appears to be missing in the story? If the cross is essential for forgiveness, why does it seem to be absent in this parable?

If this kind of question intrigues you…stay tuned! I’m going to be updating my front page with a series of reflections from Kenneth Bailey’s The Cross and the Prodigal: Luke 15 Through the Eyes of Middle Eastern Peasants.


Monday, October 27, 2008

Frustrations that drive my theologizing

Prep for theological discussion at conference 2006…approaching communities with a vision of God’s kingdom (“may your kingdom come…”). Two (2) frustrations that drive my theological reflections…

1) The prevalent gospel out there seems like a “floating gospel”; out of touch with the world; “spiritualized” and removed from real-life realities.

2) The prevalent church life removes its members from the world and from each other; an “anonymous” church; no time, space or energy for genuine relationships in the church, nor for deep, relational ministries. Church members relate to each other in church meetings (separated from the world; and separated from relationship with each other).

Letter to friends on theologizing for transformation

Dear Chris, Jim, Mark:

As you guys probably know, here in Caracas our team is forming house churches in the hillside barrios. As an aside, I wish I could communicate how excited we are about finding Fernando Mora and the Venezuelan Vineyard with whom we’re partnering in this. Fernando is coordinator for the Vineyard in Latin America. He is such a breath of fresh air in a Church context that is rather toxic. He’s the only Venezuelan church leader we’ve met that encourages plural leadership, learning rather than preaching, worship that is NOT a show of performers up on a stage and a God that is relational instead of one that is mechanistic and punitive. He also understands process in highly relational ministry and wants the Church to be a healing community (not just a army or a business with a numerical vision).

Enough of that. That wasn’t why I was writing.

I’ve been on a journey since arriving in Venezuela, pursuing a wider, deeper theology for the vision of seeing communities deeply impacted and transformed by the gospel. I’ve bumped into this concern in part by the shortcomings I see in so much of standard ways the Church is approaching both its life together and its mission beyond its walls.

In a recent meeting with Corrie, Jane and Birgit to chart out better the core small group bible study materials that we're using in the emerging house churches, I realized that I needed to put more words to some of my growing convictions and concerns about what we teach and what we want people to catch who search the scriptures with us. BELOW is a very short and concise list of theological points that have become important to me in my pursuit of a more adequate theology for a gospel that transforms.

I email this to you because even though our contexts are different, I know that we need each other and we can encourage each other. Maybe this will mark the beginning of a genuine dialog among us, I don’t know. Maybe there are others who should be a part of this, I don’t know that either.

Take a look at the summary page of theological thoughts and let me know if your journeys coincide at all with what we’re processing in Venezuela.

Peace,

John in Venezuela

We’re aiming for a gospel that transforms and liberates.
1. We teach personal salvation within the big picture of God’s redemptive plan for humanity so that conversion is not just about ‘me’, but about God’s vision for the world.
2. We teach the Bible as a whole to ensure that new believers learn the whole story. In this, we trace themes like baptism, the Lord’s Supper, salvation, faith, the Holy Spirit from Genesis to Revelation instead of teaching from isolated texts.
3. We value the biblical narrative and believe that a careful reading of scripture can liberate and transform people. (We, therefore, teach such that biblical narrative informs prepositional truths.)
4. We enable people to find their own story in God’s story (identifying with biblical characters, emotions, nuances of God’s relationship with people).
5. We believe that the knowledge and experience of God’s grace transforms and liberates people.
6. We teach a God-centered story (God is the hero of the biblical narratives).
7. We believe that God chooses very ordinary people (people we can all identify with).
8. We believe that God chooses impossible, unlikely people and circumstances that point to His initiative and will to accomplish his purposes and promises.
9. We teach God as different / holy (his values, his ways challenge ours in every way).
10. We teach that God doesn’t operate by the ‘law of merits’ (“you scratch my back, I scratch yours”; measuring the give and take in his relationship with us)

We’re trying to avoid a gospel that is…
Transactional (in contrast to a transformational gospel)
This theology views salvation as a ticket to heaven that is sitting on the counter of a heavenly travel agent, waiting to be picked up by a repentant soul. It de-emphasizes a reconciled relationship with God, and emphasizes getting past God’s wrath and into heaven.
Domesticated (in contrast to a scandalous gospel)
This theology can be characterized by the classic call to sinners: “Accept Jesus into your heart. He will forgive your sins and save you.” This can be contrasted by Jesus’ call to life as a disciple: “If anyone wants to be my disciple, he must deny himself, take up his cross and follow me.”
Truncated (in contrast to an integrated gospel)
This theology splits social from spiritual, sacred from secular. It divorces Jesus’ life and ministry from his death and resurrection, giving complete weight to Jesus’ death and resurrection without consideration for the message of Jesus’ ministry. This truncated view contributes to separating ‘converts’ from ‘disciples’ and salvation from service; and faith from faithfulness, and ‘soul’ from ‘person’; and individual from community.
Moralistic (in contrast to a relational gospel)
This view sees God primarily as judge who establishes his law, demands obedience from humans who disobey him. Then out of holy love for us God punishes Jesus on the cross for our sake, that we might be saved. God’s primary concern is for our moral conduct, and relates to us out of his holiness that hates sins. This creates a distant God and instills fear in followers. It can also contribute to a performance-orientation.

Letter to friends on sharing good news

Dear theology partners:

The first part of this email is cut and pasted from a recent prayer bulletin… God is working in Gonzalo. Actually God's working in me, too, in a significant way. I think Corrie is catching the bug, too. In the face of so much evil and death (street thugs robbing and killing each other, people seeking revenge thru witchcraft and drug dealers operating the street corner below our house) we're re-discovering the good news for these folks. And God is giving us opportunities to share it. Gonzalo has spoken with Calimero, the street thug who has robbed and beat him 2X in the last month (Yet right now Gonzalo is traumatized enough to only walk up to our house if I go down and get him and his family and walk them all home. Quite a recognition of need for a Latino.). Yesterday I got to speak with one of Calimero’s buddies. Corrie meanwhile had a deep conversation about God's good news with Darlin, the second in command of the drug dealing at our corner. (Keep in mind, these are the very folks that robbed Corrie, Jane, Birgit, Ryan, Karen KY and Gonzalo, and killed the son of Señor Oscar. Approaching these guys is not necessarily safe.

I'll share with you a simple illustration that has revived us as personal evangelists with these folks. Imagine a jail cell or a dark dungeon. Typically, we preach the gospel as "if you repent, God will forgive you." And we possibly teach, "your faith is the key that opens the door."

I've realized that that is NOT good news. And it's not what the bible teaches.

Now imagine a jail cell or dark dungeon, but the door is swung open. With this picture, we announce to street thugs and folks whose days are numbered because their evil is catching up with them: "Your sins are forgiven. God nailed them to the cross. They've been dealt with. Christ took them upon himself and did away with them. God opened to the door. He has set you free from your darkness and sin. Receive his gift and come out into God's light."

This is good news for sinners! It's been fun to see this truth put fire in my belly, put fire in Gonzalo's belly and also in Corrie's. We don't want a bullet of death to reach these guys before a word of hope.

Here are 3 challenges or questions that I’m asking (that come out of this reflection):
1. Finding images, symbols, stories that uniquely communicate this message to barrio street thugs.
The image of light breaking into a dark dungeon through an open door clarifies for us what we want these condemned folks to capture, but it’s not necessarily the actual image or presentation that will open their hearts. There’s no limit to the many ways (images, stories, etc.) that could convey this truth though. I like Bob Ekblad’s contextualized message with Hispanic folks to whom he presents Christ as the “good coyote”.

2. Presenting the gospel in such a way that invites people into the bigger picture of God’s purposes.
(And not just the me-stuff of “my sins” and my future in heaven, or the peace I want from an experience with God.) A recent experience in this was last Sunday. Eliz and Tati, Maria y Antonio, Luisa and Gonzalo came to our team base for a first-ever meeting of its kind; the first hour was a time of teaching and inspiration by yours truly (which I viewed as leadership capacity-building); the second hour was for the group to evaluate its life as a community and decide on a couple issues that were surfacing. The meeting was a huge encouragement for everyone. In the inspirational hour I played with the Venezuelan context; inviting them into an exercise of imagination in order to make a bridge between their Venezuelan world and the world of Jesus in the first century, so that they could feel the impact of Jesus’ message and ministry. I mention this experience because one thing I believe it accomplished was to draw them into God’s bigger picture. They saw how Jesus’ mission was directed to a nation as a whole and not an individualistic message deposited into the lives of individuals. It was encouraging to see how the response from the group was very collective in nature. Antonio expressed it beautifully: “We (the barrio community) are raising street thugs in our homes”. As I write this I also see something else in his response. Antonio and the others are still thoroughly integrated into the life of their surroundings in the barrio. They haven’t become isolated from their environment. We also discussed the crime and violence, in light of the Beatitudes, as a collective ‘we’ issue in the barrio.

3. How much do we ask for in repentance? Let me explain.
When I see Jesus’ proclamation (Marcos 1.15), he called people to a ‘yes’ and a ‘no’. That is, a ‘receiving’ and a ‘renouncing’…embrace God’s good news and turn from all other false “news”.
The specific experience that I’m thinking about is my conversation with Sr. Oscar, whose son was murdered in June. His household is a haven for witchcraft. He confessed to me that he using the family’s witchcraft beliefs to seek revenge on the killers of his son. In talking at length about revenge, witchcraft, the good news, reading the Bible, I invited him to receive God’s gift of freedom from condemnation, to walk in the light of God’s love (he believes that his physical condition is a curse from God; he’s been bedridden for 8 years. This is another whole area I want to pursue more with him.). I also called him to renounce revenge. To that he replied very firmly, ‘no, Juan, no puedo…’ Was I asking too much? On the one hand, John the Baptist asked for a clear outward sign of repentance. On the other hand, Donald McGavran and the Church Growth Movement have promoted a gospel presentation that leaves issues of racism and other social issues as discipleship issues once someone has aligned themselves with Christ.

What do you guys think?

John in Venezuela

P.S. As for the opening image of God’s forgiveness and salvation like a door of the dungeon opened by Christ’s death/resurrection, I have found it a very stimulating exercise to re-read the many New Testament verses that proclaim God’s forgiveness/redemption/reconciliation/salvation in Christ. Some could be interpreted either way depending on your lenses (e.g., Eph 1:7; 1 Cor 15:3; Col 1:13-14). Other passages seem to me to state quite clearly that God’s forgiveness was accomplished in Christ (e.g., 2 Cor 5:19; John 1:29; 1 Peter 2:24; Heb 1:3; Rom 5:6-8, 10). I’m still processing this line of theological thought. So if you want to present a different view or a correction on this basic insight, please feel free. jss
P.S.S. I just got back from another visit to the bedside of Señor Oscar (the elderly man whose family is a bunch of espiritists and who’s son was killed recently). His eagerness to listen to scripture with me was very encouraging. And it’s funny, but I can see that in the course of our conversation that the message I shared moved in and out of the 3 areas mentioned above (exploring stories and images, pointing him God’s bigger picture, and calling him to a repentance with an outward evidence – that curiously connects the individual to God’s bigger purposes in the world; we actually read John the B and his advise to the repentant). jss

Letter to friend on the good news

Hi Josh:

I remember as if it were yesterday, how you and I were wrestling with a question which is so basic, yet so profound: What is the good news for the young men in Pedro Camejo?

Do you remember those conversations? Those were heavy days, witnessing so much hopelessness, violent and destructive behavior, "ningun futuro".

We're still living very heavy days; the darkness is very thick, as my recent prayer bulletin testifies. The trilogy of drugs, brujeria (witchcraft) and vengeance seem to rule the day (and night).

Yet, I've recently become a bit of an evangelist (Can you imagine that?). It's almost like I see the good news with an insight and intensity that I've never experienced before. Or maybe it's that the good news has finally hit me as the good news that it is. And I want to share it.

I recently read a book by Miroslav Volf, a Croatian theologian (at Yale) called: FREE OF CHARGE, giving and forgiving in a graceless culture. He's very intellectual, bringing together very deep theological reflections with a very deep spirituality. I read the book somehow knowing that amidst his almost dissecting approach to the divine art of giving and forgiving I would stumble upon a gem tucked into the many profound insights. The book didn't disappoint me. I found the gem. And, perhaps oversimplifying things, as a result, I'm more of an evangelist than I've ever been.

You're probably wondering what the gem is. (I hope you are.)

I'm going to hold you in suspense a bit…

First, think about how you've always heard the gospel preached. The forgiveness of God is offered more or less like this: "If you repent, God will forgive you."

What I'm going to share will force you to go back to all those NT verses and re-read them to see if this is, in fact, true or not. And the amazing thing is that it is true.

The message that I'm so animated to tell the young men of Pedro Camejo (people who know they are bad; that they've done awful things like murder, etc.) is NOT that "if they repent, God will forgive them". The good news I want to tell them is: "Your sins are forgiven". The gift of a clean slate has been made, now repent and receive his gift.

I love announcing / proclaiming what God has done. "Your sins are forgiven" lets them know that they don't have to end in judgment and condemnation; the removing of all the sins and evil of all humanity has been done in Christ. This God's gift, that must be received. The young men are ignorant, they don't know God's gift, that it's their for them to take hold of.

"if you repent, God will forgive you" puts the weight of things on the shoulders of the human. It creates insecurity, it becomes, "if I repent, maybe God will forgive me." Or it becomes, "if I repent correctly, then God will forgive me."

Jesus proclaimed to the paralytic: "Your sins are forgiven". Punto final (period). The traditional message emphasizes: You're the problem. And if you're lucky God will forgive you. This new angle I've discovered emphasizes God and what God's done for sinners. It forces people to encounter a God who would do such a wild thing as forgiving them, whether they repent or not.

We're praying that CHINO and CALIMERO can receive this message of hope BEFORE they receive a bullet of death.

The theological corrollary to this insight is the NT emphasis (from Isaiah 53) that Jesus has taken away the sin of the world. If God has taken away the sin of CHINO and CALIMERO (freeing them from condemnation and judgment), then they need to know that, so that they can receive tal regalo (such a gift).

I realize that there's a lot more to the good news. I'm not saying this is the totality of what the good news is. But in this context, of youth delinquent murderers and witches and revenge-driven decent people, this aspect of the good news packs a punch, and it is truly good news.

It seems like everyday (though I know it can't be that often) I get opportunities to share the good news like this with people.

Anyway, that's enough rambling. Let me know if this makes sense. Maybe this is nothing new or different for you guys. I'm curious. Does this kind of a presentation sound very traditional or does it hit you as different? (I don't necessarily have perspective from where I am. Have I become a heretic?)

Can you guys give me your feedback? Thoughts? Reflections?

Standing in the gap with you all,
John in Venezuela

Letter to friend on Darrow Miller's book

Hi Chris,

Thanks so much for your thoughtful reply to my theological thoughts. For someone who doesn't like theology, you are very deep in your reflections. What people don't realize is that we're constantly theologizing, we just don't call it by that name. Dallas Willard has a great quote from The Spirit of the Disciplines (p.26). “A thoughtless theology guides our lives with just as much force as a thoughtful or informed one.”

I have also read Darrow Miller's book. I found his perspective puts a damper on those concerned with abuses of the powerful. I don't find any incentive in his "worldview" for those with power to be responsible with natural resources, nor for those getting exploited to seek justice.

I think Venezuelan evangelical churches are also open to holistic ministry more now than in the past. What I find is that they're still stuck in the debilitating language of "social work" which is second class to "spiritual work". I prefer to teach with Biblical language, rather than continue with the imported (non-biblical) categories of "social" vs "spiritual".

Teaching Jesus as Lord and Savior is also a "patchwork" emphasis (albeit much needed) because our compartmentalized worldview has divided what was intended to be unified. Rather than patching together what we have artificially separated, I prefer to use the biblical vocabulary and story-line and aim for a unified call to discipleship. Otherwise we can still end up with "converts" who aren't "disciples" (something the Navegators have taught). (Parenthetically, this is also what John Hayes has modeled so well for InnerCHANGE over the years -- that is, a unified/integrated view of mission and life with God that leans on biblical language and images.)

I so appreciate and resonate with your "despairing for a gospel that adequately responds to the issues you raised" and am glad that we are on this journey of learning together.

Peace from Caracas,

John S

Letter to friend on baptism

Hi Jim:

Thanks so much for responding to my initial email. It’s music to my ears to read from you: “Discussing these things is right where I’m at…” I wish I could write like you at the computer screen. I have to work with pencil and paper, then enter it. (Thus, I’m writing you from one of the many panaderías (bakeries), drinking a nice cup of Venezuelan coffee, looking over a hard copy of your email.) I so identify with your longing to “understand the revelation of God through his word and how it affects transformational change in our lives”. That expresses the journey I’m on, too.

I must say that the kind of brokenness you encounter on your journey seems more severe than what we face in Venezuela. At least of the three emerging house churches, one has a rather stable family at the core (Elizabeth and Tati), economically they’re above the survival mode and come from a relatively stable family background. The other two groups are deeper in economic poverty, though still not as broken as your folks. In these two cases (Maria and Antonio, and Luisa and Gonzalo) they are surrounded by very broken people and broken homes, but they themselves are the care-givers within their family clans. Thus, the people we’re investing the most in are almost islands of relative stability amidst a sea of instability and brokenness. What makes them stable is that each of the emerging groups has a family at the core that is whole – husband, wife and kids (even as I write this, though, in our last visit to Maria and Antonio, she was so tired of the lawlessness and apathy in their neighborhood that she was talking like if Antonio doesn’t do something serious by the end of the year to move somewhere out of the frying pan, then she’ll leave with the kids).

Thanks for sharing about baptism. What a big topic; and a difficult one. I bet that you’ve been very clear in your teaching on baptism. You’re such a good, solid, conscientious teacher. One thought is that baptism will never be a guarantee of faithfulness. Even though couples continue getting divorces, we still keep marrying them and believing in public vows.

I do think we need to re-consider baptism both theologically and logistically. By theologically I mean we have to ask the question: Biblically speaking, what is the point of baptism? Is it my obedience? Or is it something else? (Maybe to exalt what God has done…his saving act which has welcomed me into his family?). By logistically, I mean the question: What alternatives exist between the two extremes of immediate dunking on the one hand and “lengthy classes and a testing period” on the other?

I think the impulse for many of our logistical ideas is pragmatic. That is, we approach baptism as a tool to be maximized for people’s faith development. How can we do baptism in such a way that will lead to the greatest chance of the person succeeding as a disciple of Christ? But is this the right question?

If the point is to make baptism “work”; that is, to maximize its use as a means for our faithfulness, then I think we will come up with lots of interesting ideas…from George Patterson’s “do it right away” approach (so that a habit of obedient responses is cultivated and nurtured as a Christian lifestyle from the get-go), to requiring a testing period and classes in order to ensure (as much as possible) the on-going faithfulness of those baptized.

Another way of looking at the logistical question is through the lenses of form and function; form referring to symbols and structures and functions referring to lived reality, that which is experienced. Fernando Mora of the Venezuelan Vineyard that we’re partnering with, and who is coaching us, believes in putting function before form. Thus he would say, help the people live the truth of baptism (a life of being dead to sin and the power of death, and alive to God’s gifts, etc. a la Romans 6), be patient and keep on teaching and orienting your people, making space for them to learn about baptism. Then, when the form of baptism can confirm the function (that which is already being lived), then encourage them to take that step. As I write this I realize that what motivates Fernando to do it this way is because he is consciously working against a religious-orientation that interprets forms, like the act of baptism, as a hoop that provides the individual with an objective status (“now I’m on the right side of the fence. I’m okay.”), yet without the subjective reality (that is, experiencially being headed toward Christ, in a growing relationship with Christ). Paul Hiebert’s theory of bounded sets vs centered sets is helpful in this.

If we focus on people‚s relationship with God, rather than people‚s beliefs
or actions, as central to defining who is within a community‚s boundary we
will end up having boundary lines of a very different character. Paul
Hiebert a missionary anthropologist offers a description of these two
different approaches. He calls one a bounded group and the other a centered
group. In general terms a bounded group creates a list of essential
characteristics that determine whether a person belongs to that group or
not. Anyone who meets the requirements is considered “in”. Hiebert explains
that bounded groups have a clear boundary line that is static and allows for
a uniform definition of those who are within the group. In contrast a
centered group is created by defining a center and observing a person’s
relationship to the center. He states that some people may be far from the
center, but they are moving toward the center, therefore they are part of
the centered group. On the other hand, some people may be close to the
center, but may be moving away from it, and therefore are not part of the
centered group. The group is made up of all objects moving toward the
center. Therefore one can still make a distinction between those who are
“in” and “out”, but the focus is on the center itself and not the boundary.
The people within the group will not necessarily be uniform in their
characteristics, but they will be heading the same direction. (Received the quote in an email from Mark Baker.)

My guess is that most of us don’t go any deeper than this kind of logistical question. We don’t question the deeper theological question of what the point of baptism is. Most people in our circles are satisfied with “it’s a matter of our obedience.” Yet, like Fernando, I suspect that the “me-orientation” of my obedience as the point of baptism invites a human-oriented / religious orientation to the Christian life.

The delayed baptism for the sake of a testing period is also a “me-orientation”, because the point is becoming “ready” or obedient enough to receive baptism. This logistical solution is all about us, the humans. I wonder if such a message is actually good news. It could instead create fear and apprehension. T. F. Torrance writes in The Mediation of Christ, pp. 99-100:

“The holy sacraments, baptism and eucharist, are acts of human response to the proclamation of the gospel…they are above all divinely provided…we recall that in the divinely instituted form and order of worship described in the Old Testament the people of Israel were not allowed to come before God with any kind of offering or sacrifice of their own choosing, or with some liturgy they had invented for themselves. From beginning to end all cultic acts were ordained by God and were to be regarded as the provision he had made…so it is in the new covenant in which the divinely instituted forms of human response vicariously provided in Jesus Christ are represented by baptism and eucharist which replace the rites of circumcision and Passover…they are sacraments which by their nature direct us away from ourselves to Jesus Christ in whom all God’s blessings for us are embodied, out of whose fullness we receive grace for grace. Granted that they are responses which we are commanded to make in our worship of God, they are nevertheless not sacraments of what we do but of what Christ Jesus has done in our place and on our behalf…”

Mark Baker’s Religious No More has a helpful section on what he refers to as religion versus revelation -- He borrows the key illustration from Jacques Ellul. The illustration is simply two arrows…one points upward, the other points downward. It’s so simple, but it provides a great framework for differentiating between biblical Christianity which is God acting first, initiating toward us – marked by the downward arrow (what Ellul refers to as, revelation). Then, religious Christianity that emphasizes human actions toward God – marked by the upward arrow (something much deeper and insidious than the typical “works” orientation that we fear so much). Parenthetically, the two arrows paradigm become so helpful to Steve Scharf and I that we would as a matter of routine walk out of a church service, look at each other, and remark “Pura flecha para arriba…ayúdame!– only the upward arrow…give me some air! An all-too-common experience in many churches.

I love the way you articulate this in your teaching. You have been a wonderful example and an inspiration to many with the vivid strokes you’ve painted of God as the One we so desperately need. In your email you write: More than ever I don’t take for granted this kind of teaching. I can see more clearly today than I did five years ago why you so passionately insist on it. (And the coolest thing is that I learned it first hand from the way God snuck up on me through my experiences in Caracas of getting held up, to teach me some life lessons that I hadn’t been open to, much less able to initiate movement on. But I saw how clearly God initiated, ambushing me in his love and patience. I see also more clearly how slow and stubborn I am, which has given me greater patience with those we minister among.)

This thing of God being the initiator and the master lover is bedrock, isn’t it? I can’t get away from it. Some examples of the ways I’ve been trying to re-orient pastors here is:
• The creation story; how a day according to God begins when we are resting, “it was evening and morning, the first day.” Eugene Peterson inspired me with this insight a few years ago.
• The pattern of Paul’s letters. It’s interesting how Paul’s letters are usually divided quite cleanly between the early chapters which exalt God and what he has accomplished for us. Then the second part of the letters delve into the exhortations, clearly as a human response to God’s initiative which is celebrated first. This is evident even in many individual verses from Paul, “By the mercies of God…offer your bodies…” (highlights God’s action first, then our response). Ephesiasn 5.1 “as beloved children, etc…” Our theme verse here has become: “We love because he first loved us.” (1 John 4:19).
• The deep well illustration from UNOH. I love this story and it puts in helpful imagery Paul Hiebert’s bounded vs centered group theory.

With this I have to bring it to a close. (We didn’t even get to the issue of individual vs family baptism or other issues like how folk religions give their own twist to Catholic baptism; here baptism is seen as a way to make sure the baby has protection from evil spirits.)

Gratefully together on the journey,

John in Caracas

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Letter to friend on atonement

Dear Jim:

Thanks for your thoughtful reflections on the Kraus reading. You didn’t come across harsh at all. Though I know how theology (especially theology that I don’t agree with) gets under my skin and can get me worked up. Engagement at this level of theology is not easy. It takes our best attentions and considerations. It can feel risky, too. To challenge and to be challenged is no small thing. Just like you, it’s taken me a long time to be able to get the time and space to adequately reply.

A few years ago, when I started probing the atonement more, I realized that the Greek word was critical. As you know, is found in the New Testament four times (1 John 2:2, 4:10; Romans 3:25; Hebrews 2:17) and is translated as “propitiation” (KJV), “atoning sacrifice” (NIV) and “expiation” (RSV). I knew I needed to look deeper.

I emailed my Greek professor friend, Tim Geddert (teaches at Mennonite Brethren Biblical Seminary). I asked him about the Greek word . Here’s his reply:

I think the "hilasterion" discussion is not the key to solving the atonement puzzles; rather it is a reflection of the problem. That means that we are unsure enough what "hilasterion" really means that our conclusion will be a RESULT of our general atonement theory, not the CAUSE of reaching a particular theory. To say that more clearly . . . if we are sure the real problem is God's wrath, and that a penal substitution is necessary, we will conclude that hilasterion means propitiation . . . if we are sure that the problem is human sin that blocks our fellowship with God's whose disposition toward us is always conciliatory, then we will conclude that the word means expiation. Make sense? Hi to you all. Tim

Tim refers to the “problems” that propitiation and expiation address respectively, namely the question of, where does the blockage to fellowship with God lie? Does it lie with God’s justice needing to be satisfied? (the “problem” addressed by propitiation). Or does the blockage lie with the human’s condition of sin and rebellion? (the “problem” that expiation addresses). Incidentally, I liked your discussion point on how we understand sin and evil. Lots of “good”, “decent” folks are, in fact “evil” and distant from their Creator.

What Tim also seems to be saying is that, on the one hand, the biblical argument for propitiation (that is, the penal satisfaction view that sees the blockage to fellowship in God; and thus, His need to be satisfied before forgiving) must be substantiated beyond the NT verses that use the word , and, on the other hand, the expiation view cannot dismiss the propitiation view by simply translating as “expiation”. Tim basically forces us all to go back to the whole of scripture, with an openness to detect the overall thrust of biblical teaching on the subject.

From my own limited attempts at considering the overall thrust of biblical teaching on this subject, I can state several convictions that I’m developing. They represent points of weakness that I see in traditional evangelical atonement theology that give me confidence to question and look deeper. The following points are not conclusive, they point to deeper questions and theological work to be done. Your thoughts and responses are very helpful in this wrestling process.

1. The necessary role of biblical narrative.
One of my frustrations with John Stott’s book: The Cross of Christ and others I’ve read is that the foundation of their arguments are a propositional truth, without convincing backing from the biblical narrative itself. A case in point is how Stott states categorically: “That God is holy is foundational to biblical religion. So is the corollary that sin is incompatible with his holiness. His eyes are ‘too pure to look on evil’ and he ‘cannot tolerate wrong’. Therefore our sins effectively separate us from him, so that his face is hidden from us and he refuses to listen to our prayers – Hab 1:13; Is. 59:1” (p. 102). I agree, and believe that God is holy and that sin blocks fellowship with God. Nevertheless, a propositional truth like this needs to be defined and understood by the biblical narrative. Thus, even though God is incompatible with sin, this doesn’t stop him from calling Moses at the burning bush to set Israel free from slavery. Moses’ last recorded act, before fleeing Egypt and starting over in his new land, was the murder of an Egyptian. What’s the first thing God does with this murderer? He speaks to him, he calls him, he entrusts him with a great mission. God’s holiness did not need to ask for a confession or sign of repentance first, before being able to approach Moses and calling him. Granted, I am interpreting the silence of Scripture. But if we give the propositional truth <“God is ‘too pure to look on evil’ and he ‘cannot tolerate wrong’”> the weight that evangelicals have typically given it, we would assume that the first act of God, in order to get Moses ready for his new mission, would be to call him to acknowledge his wrong, and makes sure he’s right with God. Yet God is able and willing to call Moses without any mention of such a concern in the biblical record. I’m not saying that God doesn’t care about our conduct or our evil deeds. He obviously does. But there’s apparently nothing in God that keeps him from communing with Moses in a very significant way. This is not an isolated narrative within the larger biblical narrative.

2. The incarnation/ministry/death/resurrection must be held together as one coherent narrative that informs our atonement theology.
Atonement theologies haven’t given any theological consideration to Christ’s incarnation. This is a strong accusation, but I believe it’s true within conversative evangelicalism. John Stott builds his entire atonement theology without reference to Christ prior to his passion. And the lessons he draws from the human drama of Christ’s conflict with the Jewish leaders are essentially moral lessons; insights into human sin (p. 47-84). This is why I describe Stott’s atonement theology as a “stand alone” theology. If you take out the birth and ministry of Jesús, Stott’s atonement theology remains fully intact. Not unrelated to this is something I see as a contradiction in what you rightly affirmed in your email, namely that: . Stott states it this way: “…God is God; he never deviates one iota, even one tiny hair’s breadth, from being entirely himself. What does this have to do with atonement? Just that the way God chooses to forgive sinners and reconcile them to himself must, first and foremost, be fully consistent with his own character” (p.128-129). Why, then, don’t we consider Christ’s ministry as a testimony to God’s character and make that narrative the center piece of our atonement theology?

If God’s holiness is such an impediment to God looking upon sinners and communing with them, then why did God come near us first (Immanuel), then die second. Wouldn’t it make more sense, if the “problem” (blockage) is with God, that God would receive the payment first, then as a second step come near to us and communicate the good news that the kingdom of God is among us and God’s love is within reach of everyone. God did it the other way around, and yet we haven’t considered the theological importance of it for the atonement.

3. We are called to forgive in imitation of how God forgave us in Christ.
“Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God” (Eph. 4.32-5:2).
This passage seems to assume that we should consider the cross as a model for human relations. In other words, the verse implies that what God did in Christ and through Christ is within reach for us to also do. If God needed to be satisfied before forgiving us, then do we require people to confess their wrongs before we forgive them? We also seem to imitate Christ’s role on the cross; not as little ‘saviors’, but as forgivers, who don’t “count men’s sins against them” as God in Christ didn’t “count men’s sins against them” (2 Cor 5:19).

4. II Corinthians 5:18-19 places the “problem” to be overcome on humans.

“All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting men’s sins against them…” Stott agrees: “We note here that wherever the verb ‘to reconcile’ occurs in the NT, either God is the subject (he reconciled us to himself) or, if the verb is passive, we are (we were reconciled to him). God is never the object. It is never said that ‘Christ reconciled the Father to us’. Formally, linguistically, this is a fact. But we must be careful not to build too much on it theologically…” (p. 197). Why not? The implication of this, which Stott cannot acknowledge, is that at least with reference to the word the weight of the NT puts the “problem” on humans, not on God.

This is all I can write for now.
Peace,
John in Vzla