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.


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

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