I've just this morning finished reading Options on Atonement in Christian Thought by Stephen Finlan. Finlan offers a fairly sweeping overview of many options, so for the sake of brevity I will touch on only a handful of considerations that I find both helpful and difficult.
Finlan discusses "Paul's Cultic Metaphors," in a way that proffers a primer on Pauline atonement thought and helpful cogitations for seeing how Paul relates atonement metaphors to one another. Actually Finlan's discussion of Paul's "Conflation of Metaphors," is the section I found most helpful. He insists that if we shift our focus to individual metaphors in Paul's thought, "we will miss the importance of his constant conflating (mixing) of metaphors, which implies the blending of their underlying logic" (Options 25). If one chooses to focus justification, redemption, propitiation, scapegoating, reconciliation, or adoption then one easily misses the meta-argument Paul is making. On the other hand, it is also possible to overlook the individual meaning of each metaphor assuming all the terms to have the same meaning. I would argue that this is unfortunately what Christians do most often when terms such as redemption and adoption are not conflated, but assumed to be identical.
That said, Paul does conflate metaphors and even can conflate three in once sentence: "For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do: by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and to deal with sin, he condemned sin in the flesh" (Romans 8:3 NRSV). Here Paul joins the sacrificial ("to deal with sin" in the NRSV, or "as an offering for sin" in the NASB), judicial ("he condemend sin"), and scapegoat ("in the flesh"). Finlan notes that, "The specific focus on 'the flesh' at the beginning and end of the verse suggests a scapegoat image, as does the idea of one creature taking something on for the whole community" (Options 25). The question then remains as to why Paul combine the metaphors in the way he does. Finlan wants to insist that, "the bottom line for Paul is not metaphoric consistency but saving outcome. He uses any metaphor that will communicate that, through Christ, we are rescued, reprieved, redeemed" (Options 26).
This parsing of conflated metaphors can be done poorly as is seen in the case of penal substitutionary atonement. Paul, usually seen by its proponents as the source of penal substitution, does clearly discuss penalty and substitution, but the initial meaning of the metaphors must be understood first before they can be commingled. As Finlan helpfully notes, "In the judicial metaphor a penalty is avoided; salvation is pictured as an acquittal in the divine court. The element of substitution largely emerges from the redemption metaphor, which is substitutionary in a monetary, not penal sense" (Options 27). Skipping over definitional considerations can create incredibly confounded theological understandings. For instance, if I assume justification (judicial) and redemption (monetary) to have the same meaning I could logically picture God as being the divine judge who accepts bribes. Even by human standards that would make the Divine all-compassionate, all-merciful, all-perfect, and all-corrupt. In this day and age where power goes to the highest bidder this is clearly a troubling image.
Finlan would insist that those who derived penal substitution from Paul, "lost sight of Paul's essential idea that God was not reconciled--was not persuaded or manipulated--but was the reconciling the world to himself (2 Cor 5:19)" (Options 33). I would like to link this idea (God as the reconciler not the reconciled) to Finlan's later assertion that "None of This Was in Jesus" (Options 35). Consider the Parable of the Prodigal and His Brother (Luke 15:11-32), for instance. Both brothers need reconciliation with the father, but the father does all the reconciliation. There is no notion that penance or sacrifice is needed. In fact, there is no mention of such reconciliation even being burdensome to the father, but rather is cause for great celebration!
Finlan goes on to handle many different options in atonement theology which categorizes as defenses and critiques of atonement. The range from "Orthodox Defenses" (Schmiechen, Rahner, Balthasar, Wheeler, Gunton, and Moule) to "Postmodern Orthodox Views" (Boersma and Milbank), to critiques such as Girard and Nelson-Pallmeyer. Reading this range of considerations leads me to gravitate toward John Milbank (who, unfortunately, I am not going to be reading for this course) and, interestingly enough, Paul Fiddes.
Finlan reads Milbank's argument as insisting upon using incarnation as atonement not as primarily propositional assertions, but as "metaphors and narrative devices...meant to stimulate Christian ethics" (Options 90). Milbank sees atonement as forgiveness, having not only soteriology consequences, but also ecclesiological, "because the difficult process of forgiveness really does change those who participate in it" (Options 90). For Milbank, atonement conceived of as propositional truth, "simply does not work" (Options 91). One might think of Charles Taylor's adage, "The proof of a map is how well you can get around using it." This is not to say that the perceived misbehavior of the church has negated traditional atonement theology. Actually, Milbank argues, "that the whole concept of atonement can be reinterpreted in a fully orthodox way, without resort to literal-minded substitutionary ideas" (Options 92). This redefinition of atonement is ethic not in that it calls simply a unidirectional sacrifice of the believer in the name of principles, but rather, "to be ethical therefore is to believe in the Resurrection, and somehow to participate in it" (Options 94). Or as Jesus might put it, " For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again" (John 10:17).
My interest in Paul Fiddes mostly lies in his concept of where God's wrath, "is not God's personal anger but is a law innate in life itself whereby sin always reaps negative consequence" (Options 101). This seems mostly like an intriguing thought exercise. However, I wonder if this concept might be brought into conversation with other interpretations. For instance, this is probably not too far from N.T. Wright's idea of God's wrath being equated military domination of Israel. We might be able to see both conceptions in the symbols of Daniel or Revelation wherein all earthly kingdoms who oppose God's peaceable kingdom will be defeated. Supposed sovereignty, on a national or individual level, apart from God's covenant will lead to decline and exile. There might be something there, or perhaps not.
Friday, September 28, 2012
Friday, September 14, 2012
Nonviolent Atonement: A Proposition Worthy of a Response
For the third week of my independent study I read:
Weaver begins by making the uncontroversial claim, "nonviolence is intrinsic to the story of Jesus," going so far as to assert that, though the gospel such note be equated or reduced to a rejection of violence it, "any defining statement about Jesus or the gospel that does not have a rejection pf violence as a constitutive element is an incomplete statement about Jesus or the gospel" (Stricken 316). I agree with this claim, but one should not miss its signifiance in the discussion of atonement theology. Weaver's assertion carries with it the implication that Christians who do not preach the gospel of peace are preaching either a truncated or false gospel. I would want to graciously extend an olive branch to Christians outside of the peace church tradition in the form of the reminder that they have been part of the majority opinion throughout the history of the church. I would want to especially emphasize the fact that to the extent they have believe in a gospel of "constant love for one another," love is able to cover, "a multitude of sins" (1 Peter 4:8 NRSV).
Weaver wants to argue for an atonement theology that "undergirds discipleship to Jesus," and provides a theology that, "shapes Christian living" (Stricken 317). Starting from John Howard Yoder's case for using Jesus' life as the norm for Christian ethics, Weaver aruges that "ethics and theology comprise two version or two forms of the same commitment" (Stricken 319). So far, so good.
Weaver then sets out to construct his proposal for atonement theology which he has titled "narrative Christus Victor" (Stricken 321). Jesus launches his mission based upon Isaiah 61:
Weaver then moves to an examination of narrative Christus Victor found in Revelation. Weaver's reading of Revelation emphasizes the fact that the resurrection is the victory of Christ over the powers. Such a victory should be understood as "a nonviolent victory, that is, a victory without divine violence" (Stricken 330). Weaver maintains that God's nonviolence is not just a fact extracted from reading the narrative, but is intrinsic to understand the reign of God. Jesus' crucifixion highlights the fact that the worst the powers of evil can do is to kill, but through the resurrection God reverses this denial of existence. Unlike in satisfaction and penal substitutionary theories of atonement, in narrative Christus Victor, God's triumphant reign does not depend "on God's capacity to exercise either retributive violence or the greatest violence, but on the power of the reign of God to overcome in spite of and in the face of the violence of evil" (Stricken 331). Weaver then asserts that Revelation ends with the vision of the New Jerusalem, not as a future reality, but as representative of "the church as it continues the mission of Jesus to witness to the presence of the reign of God in the world" (Stricken 332). It would seem that Weaver would want to admit that the life of the church often does not feel like the New Jerusalem, but he insists that such an image "affirms symbolically that regardless of the apparent power of evil abroad in the world, those who live in the resurrection of Jesus know that evil has been overcome and that its power is already limited" (Stricken 334).
As I was reading through this chapter, at about this point I was wondering how Weaver understands personal deficiency or complicity with sin. Luckily, he turns to a conception of what it means to be a Christian. Weaver reconfigures a more common understanding of confession, insisting that it is the realization and acknowledgement of "our participation in the forces of evil that killed Jesus, including their present manifestations in such powers as militarism, nationalism, racism, sexism, heterosexism and poverty that still bind and oppress" (Stricken 336). For Weaver, grace is, "the invitation to participate in spite of our guilt for opposing the reign of God and collusion with the powers that killed Jesus" (Stricken 336). I have moved quickly through Weaver's essay, but this represents the gist of the argument I wish to deal with.
When reading through Weaver's chapter my initial inclination was assent. After all, how can one draw upon both John Howard Yoder and Walter Wink and veer too far away from brilliance? However, Weaver's overarching presentation of narrative Christus Victor left me wanting. First, Weaver's reading of the gospels seems quotidian for anyone attempting to overcome penal substitutionary understandings of the atonement. The point that, "there is no indication of any kind that the death of Jesus in this story satisfies anything," (Stricken 323) could--and probably would--be made by any historical Jesus scholar. Such a reading makes one wonder why Weaver would call this assertion "atonement" in the first place? I agree with the fact that Jesus witnesses to God's peaceable reign on earth and that his death is "produced by the forces that opposed" him. I even enjoy his reading nonviolent reading of Revelation, which makes clear that the "victory through the resurrection is a non-violent victory, that is, a victory without divine violence" (Stricken 330). The problem with Weaver's argument really occurs when he turns from exegesis to praxis.
Consider his soteriology:
Another problem with Weaver's narrative Christus Victor is its narrowness (and I will admit this may be due to my reading a more condensed version of his argument). In this chapter, Weaver never (at least by my reading) addresses the Old Testament or attempts to place Jesus into the greater story of God's people. Further, except for a brief mention of 1 Corinthians 15 and a paragraph on Romans 3:24-26, Weaver completely avoids the letters of Paul. One is certainly permitted to do this, but not if one wants to discuss atonement. It simply will not do to cite two scholars who do not see satisfaction atonement in Paul's letters when many Christians think Paul's writings explicitly undermine what you are arguing!
In summary, I would have to assert that Weaver is not a bad resource, but rather he brings up more questions than he offers answers. That's okay though, because in my study of theologies of the cross and atonement, I am only on week 3.
- "The Nonviolent Atonement: Human Violence, Discipleship and God," by J. Denny Weaver.
- "The Cross: God's Peace Work - Towards A Restorative Peacemaking Understanding of the Atonement," by Wayne Northey.
- "Good News For Postmodern Man: Christus Victor in the Lucan Kerygma," by Nathan Rieger
Weaver begins by making the uncontroversial claim, "nonviolence is intrinsic to the story of Jesus," going so far as to assert that, though the gospel such note be equated or reduced to a rejection of violence it, "any defining statement about Jesus or the gospel that does not have a rejection pf violence as a constitutive element is an incomplete statement about Jesus or the gospel" (Stricken 316). I agree with this claim, but one should not miss its signifiance in the discussion of atonement theology. Weaver's assertion carries with it the implication that Christians who do not preach the gospel of peace are preaching either a truncated or false gospel. I would want to graciously extend an olive branch to Christians outside of the peace church tradition in the form of the reminder that they have been part of the majority opinion throughout the history of the church. I would want to especially emphasize the fact that to the extent they have believe in a gospel of "constant love for one another," love is able to cover, "a multitude of sins" (1 Peter 4:8 NRSV).
Weaver wants to argue for an atonement theology that "undergirds discipleship to Jesus," and provides a theology that, "shapes Christian living" (Stricken 317). Starting from John Howard Yoder's case for using Jesus' life as the norm for Christian ethics, Weaver aruges that "ethics and theology comprise two version or two forms of the same commitment" (Stricken 319). So far, so good.
Weaver then sets out to construct his proposal for atonement theology which he has titled "narrative Christus Victor" (Stricken 321). Jesus launches his mission based upon Isaiah 61:
The spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; (Isaiah 61:1-2)Jesus' ministry is about making "present the reign of God in human history" (Stricken 321) and to be Christian "means to join and follow Jesus in his mission of witnessing to the peaceable reign of God" (Stricken 322). Weaver does want to admits that part of the narrative of Jesus' life, death, and resurrection is an atonement motif, but he claims "there is no indication of any kind that the death of Jesus in this story satisfies anything" (Stricken 323). Weaver sees Jesus' death at the hands of the powers as highlighting the how different the methods of the powers are from the way of God. Not identifying any sort of satisfaction atonement in the narratives of Jesus, Weaver then proposes what the atonement image he calls "narrative Christus Victor" will look like. Differing greatly from Gustav Aulen's conception of Christus Victor, Weaver notes that in his envisaging, "the first level of struggle between the reign of God and rule of evil occurs not in the cosmos but on earth, where the life and teaching of Jesus as a whole engage the struggle" (Stricken 324).
Weaver then moves to an examination of narrative Christus Victor found in Revelation. Weaver's reading of Revelation emphasizes the fact that the resurrection is the victory of Christ over the powers. Such a victory should be understood as "a nonviolent victory, that is, a victory without divine violence" (Stricken 330). Weaver maintains that God's nonviolence is not just a fact extracted from reading the narrative, but is intrinsic to understand the reign of God. Jesus' crucifixion highlights the fact that the worst the powers of evil can do is to kill, but through the resurrection God reverses this denial of existence. Unlike in satisfaction and penal substitutionary theories of atonement, in narrative Christus Victor, God's triumphant reign does not depend "on God's capacity to exercise either retributive violence or the greatest violence, but on the power of the reign of God to overcome in spite of and in the face of the violence of evil" (Stricken 331). Weaver then asserts that Revelation ends with the vision of the New Jerusalem, not as a future reality, but as representative of "the church as it continues the mission of Jesus to witness to the presence of the reign of God in the world" (Stricken 332). It would seem that Weaver would want to admit that the life of the church often does not feel like the New Jerusalem, but he insists that such an image "affirms symbolically that regardless of the apparent power of evil abroad in the world, those who live in the resurrection of Jesus know that evil has been overcome and that its power is already limited" (Stricken 334).
As I was reading through this chapter, at about this point I was wondering how Weaver understands personal deficiency or complicity with sin. Luckily, he turns to a conception of what it means to be a Christian. Weaver reconfigures a more common understanding of confession, insisting that it is the realization and acknowledgement of "our participation in the forces of evil that killed Jesus, including their present manifestations in such powers as militarism, nationalism, racism, sexism, heterosexism and poverty that still bind and oppress" (Stricken 336). For Weaver, grace is, "the invitation to participate in spite of our guilt for opposing the reign of God and collusion with the powers that killed Jesus" (Stricken 336). I have moved quickly through Weaver's essay, but this represents the gist of the argument I wish to deal with.
When reading through Weaver's chapter my initial inclination was assent. After all, how can one draw upon both John Howard Yoder and Walter Wink and veer too far away from brilliance? However, Weaver's overarching presentation of narrative Christus Victor left me wanting. First, Weaver's reading of the gospels seems quotidian for anyone attempting to overcome penal substitutionary understandings of the atonement. The point that, "there is no indication of any kind that the death of Jesus in this story satisfies anything," (Stricken 323) could--and probably would--be made by any historical Jesus scholar. Such a reading makes one wonder why Weaver would call this assertion "atonement" in the first place? I agree with the fact that Jesus witnesses to God's peaceable reign on earth and that his death is "produced by the forces that opposed" him. I even enjoy his reading nonviolent reading of Revelation, which makes clear that the "victory through the resurrection is a non-violent victory, that is, a victory without divine violence" (Stricken 330). The problem with Weaver's argument really occurs when he turns from exegesis to praxis.
Consider his soteriology:
To acknowledge our human sinfulness means to confess our participation in the forces of evil that killed Jesus, including their present manifestations in such powers as militarism, nationalism, racism, sexism, heterosexism and poverty that still bind and oppress...That invitation to participate [in God's reign] in spite of our guilt for opposing the reign of God and collusion with the powers that killed Jesus is grace. (Stricken 336)This is dangerously close to guilt-tripping people into the kingdom and undermines his assertion that Jesus death does not satisfy any sort of divine necessity. Weaver clearly does not believe Jesus' death satisfies divine wrath, but it still seems possible that is satisfies the divine narrative. Even though he specifically denounces Abelard's moral influence theory, Weaver's description of Abelard is not too distinct from his own conception. He describes the moral influence theory saying,
In order to show these sinners--us--that God is really loving and accepting, God the Father performs an act of great, infinite love, giving us his most precious possession, his Son, to die for us. When sinners perceive that love, according to this image, they will want to cease rebelling and return to the loving embrace of the Father. (Stricken 339)If one substitutes the idea that God gives his son over to death with a Jesus who nonviolently opposes evil even unto his own death, then Weaver and Abelard are kindred theological spirits.
Another problem with Weaver's narrative Christus Victor is its narrowness (and I will admit this may be due to my reading a more condensed version of his argument). In this chapter, Weaver never (at least by my reading) addresses the Old Testament or attempts to place Jesus into the greater story of God's people. Further, except for a brief mention of 1 Corinthians 15 and a paragraph on Romans 3:24-26, Weaver completely avoids the letters of Paul. One is certainly permitted to do this, but not if one wants to discuss atonement. It simply will not do to cite two scholars who do not see satisfaction atonement in Paul's letters when many Christians think Paul's writings explicitly undermine what you are arguing!
In summary, I would have to assert that Weaver is not a bad resource, but rather he brings up more questions than he offers answers. That's okay though, because in my study of theologies of the cross and atonement, I am only on week 3.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Cross theologies (week 2)...or, Too Much To Write About
This week I continued slogging through Stricken By God: Nonviolent Identification and the Victory of Christ. My readings this week were:
If Jesus' cross is going to be seen as a victory, it might be helpful to understand whom the victory is going to be over. Wright helpfully writes:
There is much more to say, but for now this will have to suffice.
- "The Reasons For Jesus' Crucifixion" by N.T. Wright
- "God's Self-Substitution and Sacrificial Inversion" by James Alison
- "God Is Not To Blame: The Servant's Atoning Suffering According to the LXX of Isaiah 53" by E. Robert Ekblad
- "The Forgiveness of Sins: Hosea 11:1-9; Matthew 18:23-25" by Rowan Williams with comments by Mark D. Baker
- "The Repetition of Reconciliation: Satisfying Justice, Mercy and Forgiveness" by Sharon Baker
My reflections here will be centered on N.T. Wright's chapter, but I hope to bring some themes from the other essays into consideration as well.
N.T. Wright's chapter from Stricken By God is in fact just a chapter from his pivotal work, Jesus and the Victory of God. Wright's previous contributions to my own theological perspective cannot be downplayed. His books, Surprised by Hope, After You Believe, and What St. Paul Really Said have been hugely impactful on not only my understanding of the Bible, but my conception of what Christianity is all about. That said, I've not read Jesus and the Victory of God, so this chapter was mostly new material.
The first major point (which really shouldn't even have to be said) Wright makes is that "it is worse than futile to try to separate theology from politics" (Stricken 79). While my personal interests center on systematic theology, biblical studies have continued to center my attention on the socio-religio-political contexts of the Bible. I would offer that common conceptions of Christian atonement theology are unhelpful particularly in their de-historicized nature. The concern to communicate a universally intelligible gospel is not wrongheaded, but it's priority in theology has done violence to the narrative of scripture. Wright's chapter does a nice job putting the story of Jesus crucifixion back into a historical context. He does this by examining the three major players in the narrative: the Jews, the Romans, and Jesus himself.
Wright's analysis of the Roman and Jewish charges against Jesus are helpful, but for my purposes, his analysis of Jesus' intentions are critical. Wright begins with the question that must be asked, "Did Jesus intend to die in something like the manner he did, and if so why?" (Stricken 91). Some would answer with a resounding, "No!" Those answering negatively would want to either paint Jesus' death as a tragedy that cut short the life of a great man, or at least insist that Jesus didn't have to die (i.e. it was not a requirement of his divine vocation). Wright wants to argue that Jesus' "own decisions...were themselves necessary, though insufficient, causes of his own death" (Stricken 90).
Wright's case stems from his interpretation of the Last Supper as a Passover meal. In the upper room, Jesus "fused this great story [Passover] together with another one: the story of Jesus' own life, and of his coming death" (Stricken 92). The Passover meal was the Jewish remembrance of God's delivery of the Hebrews from tyranny, and also looked forward to their eventual return from exile. If Wright is correct in his interpretation of the "forgiveness of sins" as YHWH's deliverance and vindication of his exiled people, then the overarching story of the Bible would look something like this:
- YHWH calls Abraham to become a people through whom YHWH will bless all the families of the earth; that is, set to right what was broken at the fall (Genesis 12:3).
- Israel resists God's intentions and becomes more like the pagan nations around them. This leads to Israel's exile.
- Jesus comes on the scene as YHWH's messiah, acting as the true Israel to accomplish God's purposes.
The Last Supper as a Passover celebration points to the fact that, "the new exodus, and all that it meant, was happening in and through Jesus himself" (Stricken 95).
Skipping ahead in the chapter, Wright (as usual) insists that Jesus' actions cannot be interpreted outside of their eschatological significance. Jesus was acting out of the conviction that the focal point of Israel's history had come and the end of the exile was nigh. Because of this Jesus took up the yoke of the prophets declaring Israel, Jerusalem, and the Temple to be under judgement. Israel had again and again been warned about what would happen if she continued compromising with paganism and pagan politics, and Jesus-seeing the coming annihilation of Jerusalem at the hand of Rome-again declares God's judgment. However, Wright points out that, "the divine reaction...was not capricious or malevolent. Rather, the prophets, and the Messiah, had been trying to tell the people that there was a way of peace, a way to escape. They were extending a lifeline" (Stricken 132-133).
What is so refreshing about Wright's analysis is the holistic understanding of Israel's iniquity. Israel's failure is not a moral failure, but a vocational failure. Even as they did strive to be the Kingdom of God, the fought the battle "with the enemy's weapons," (Stricken 133) causing them to lose in principle as they would soon lose in practice; that is, in 70 CE. Wright does see Jesus' death as substitutionary in the sense that he takes upon himself the wrath, that is "hostile military action," "which was coming upon Israel because she had compromised with paganism and was suffering exile" (Stricken 134). Furthermore, Jesus takes upon himself the consequences of Israel's refusing his way of peace.
Again skipping ahead, in discussing how Jesus' death related to the sacrificial cult, Wright helpfully notes that, "The controlling metaphor that he [Jesus] chose for his crucial symbol was not the Day of Atonement, but Passover: the one-off moment of freedom in Israel's past, now to be translated into the one-off moment which would inaugurate Israel's future" (Stricken 143). This is an enormously helpful observation as the Day of Atonement paradigm has dominated and continues to dominate Christian theology. If Jesus is the paschal lamb, he is so for the purpose of bringing an end to the exile. I would offer that many Christians read Exodus 12 through the lens of Leviticus 23 and Numbers 29 instead of the other way around. Passover clearly looks forward to the end of exile, perhaps the Day of Atonement looks forward to the Jubilee:
Then you shall have the trumpet sounded loud; on the tenth day of the seventh month—on the day of atonement—you shall have the trumpet sounded throughout all your land. And you shall hallow the fiftieth year and you shall proclaim liberty throughout the land to all its inhabitants. (Leviticus 25:9-10)
That is just an uneducated musing, but I think there is potential with that train of thought. The point being that Jesus does not see the Day of Atonement as the defining symbol of his death, but rather Passover. Therefore, our hermeneutical paradigm should be Passover. At this point, James Alison's essay on "God's Self-Substitution and Sacrificial Inversion" make an interesting conversation partner. Alison writes that, "The rite of atonement was about the Lord himself, the Creator, emerging from the Holy of Holies so as to set the people free from their impurities and sins and transgressions" (Stricken 168). Rather than seeing ritual atonement as being perfectly inline with pagan sacrificial systems, Alison would insist that it marks a break from the need to placate the deity. For Alison, the most important move in the liturgy is the priest coming out from behind the veil. He notes, "The movement is not inwards towards the Holy of Holies; the movement is outwards from the Holy of Holies" (Stricken 169).
Alison asserts that even the Hebrew sacrificial system was "both remembering and covering up...human sacrifice" (Stricken 173). Jesus inserts himself into the sacrificial system in an effort "to make it clear that this is simply murder" (Stricken 173). I think I am not misreading Alison to insist that the liturgical system of sacrifice was itself the undergirding for all forms of sacrifice. Sacrifice offered pagans, and probably Jews, justification for dominating and killing others. Jesus in his life, death, and resurrection breaks the system once and for all.
Even if Alison's assessment is not completely accurate (which I am certainly not qualified to evaluate), it does lead us in the right direction. The more we interpret Jesus' death in the paradigm of pagan sacrificial institutions, the more we will miss the point. Alison ends his essay with a really striking analysis:
"That is the really difficult thing for us to imagine. We can imagine retaliation, we can imagine protection; but we find it awfully difficult to imagine someone we despised, and were awfully glad not to be like -- whom we would rather cast out so as to keep ourselves going -- we find it awfully difficult to imagine that person generously irrupting into our midst so as to set us free to enable something quite new to open up for us. But being empowered to imagine all that generosity is what atonement is all about; and that is what we are asked to live liturgically as Christians." (Stricken 179)I think this is what Wright has in mind when he insists that Jesus "saw as a pagan corruption the very desire to fight paganism itself" (Stricken 134). The defeat of Israel's oppressors was at the heart of Jesus' actions, but such a victory would be achieved on YHWH's terms. Jesus already had stated his rules of engagement: "For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it" (Matthew 16:25 NRSV). For this reason Jesus declared judgment on Israel for seeking to resist Rome by force. Wright insists that, "This judgment was not arbitrary; it was the necessary consequence of Israel's determination to follow the path of confrontation with Rome" (Stricken 146).
If Jesus' cross is going to be seen as a victory, it might be helpful to understand whom the victory is going to be over. Wright helpfully writes:
"This, then, was how Jesus envisaged the messianic victory over the real enemy. The satan had taken up residence in Jerusalem, not merely in Rome, and was seeking to pervert the chosen nation and the holy place into becoming a parody of themselves, a pseudo-chosen people intent on defeating the world with the world's methods, a pseudo-holy place seeking to defend itself against the world rather than to be the city set on a hill, shining its light on the world. One time: this does not mean that Jesus rejected the concept of chosen nation and holy place. The whole point is that he embraced them; that he discerned, and tried to communicate, what the chosenness, in its scriptural roots, actually meant; and that, discovering the nation as a whole deaf and blind to his plea, he determined to go, himself to the holy place, and there to do what the chosen people ought to do. He would act on behalf of, and in the place of, Israel, that was failing to be what she was called to be. He would himself be the light of the world. He would be the salt of the earth. He would be set on a hill, unable to be hidden." (Stricken 147)I have much more I could say about the significance of this narrative, but I will use this as a place to wrap up my reflections. What I think must be said is that this placement of Jesus' crucifixion in the greater story of Israel fills two voids often present in Christian theology. First, this understanding bridges the chasm between soteriology and Christian ethics. Wright remarks that the symbol of the cross was not the symbol of Caesar's victory, but rather, "It would become the symbol, because it would be the means, of the victory of God" (Stricken 148). That said, I think Wright would agree with John Howard Yoder that, "The cross is not a detour or a hurdle on the way to the kingdom, nor is it even the way to the kingdom; it is the kingdom come" (The Politics of Jesus 51). In other words, Jesus ushers in God's kingdom and defeats the kingdoms of the world with kingdom practices. The second void Wright's answers the question posed by Michael Hardin earlier in the book, "How do the Testaments relate to one another?" (Stricken 63). In fact, Wright's work makes this question sound somewhat absurd as you cannot understand Jesus' vocation as messiah without the Hebrew Bible.
There is much more to say, but for now this will have to suffice.
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