Christology

Book Review | Exploring Christology & Atonement: Conversations with John McLeod Campbell, H. R. Mackintosh, and T. F. Torrance

~ Mike Skinner ~ 1 Comment

This is a guest post from a colleague of mine at Houston Baptist University, Matt Davis.

What happens in theology when we are not asking the right question? Andrew Purves tackles this in his latest book, “Exploring Christology & Atonement: Conversations with John McLeod Campbell, H. R. Mackintosh, and T. F. Torrance.”

To address this, he opens and closes this work saying, “This book offers an account of the relations between Jesus Christ, who is the incarnate Son, and the Father, the result of which is the atonement, for in the incarnate Son the relation between God and humankind is savingly established” (9, 253). Some readers will immediately notice in what he does say (as well as what he does not say) what path he hopes to take the reader on. This book is aimed to engage just this sort of reader, as well as those who are prepared to learn just what he implies in his thesis.

Okay, all well and good. So, what is the “wrong” question?

Well, for Purves, it could take a number of variations, but it is any question that too easily allows us to separate our answers on the atonement from the Incarnation (and its manifold implications). Some might ask whether a book is needed at all for this. Is it even possible to separate the atonement from involving Jesus? Is he not, you know, sort of necessary for the whole thing? Purves brings his own education and his summary of the contributions of three Scottish theologians – Campbell, Mackintosh, and Torrance – to this conversation. They respond, yes, some people have talked about the atonement in a way that displaces the central, mediating role of the incarnate Jesus.

How then should we approach the topic? It is here, in his introduction, that Purves begins. Like an experienced guide, he gives us two reminders for the path ahead: first, “We do theology because we are baptized” (17); and, second, “All theology is en route” (23). That is, we must remember the theological journey is not simply one of knowledge but, primarily, an act of worship. And because we are limited, both epistemologically and ontologically, we should tread clothed in humility as we discover and attempt to understand that which has been revealed. We should be hesitant to put too much emphasis on anything detached from these realities – whether trusting too deeply in reason or in things that have not been revealed to us.

What sort of question(s) should we ask? How should we consider the atonement? Over the course of the next three chapters, what was implicit in his introduction becomes more explicit: Purves believes these three Scottish theologians help us to keep our course by reminding us that there is no atonement without the incarnation. In chapter two, Purves argues that we begin with the incarnate Son, not a priori but a posteriori, because this is where Scripture begins. The questions in the gospels and epistles, rather than speculative, abstract philosophical questions, center us on the supremacy of this revelation, this image of the invisible God. Chapter three deepens the argument, calling us to realize the power of understanding the hypostatic union of Christ to overcome any tendency to reduce the necessity of Christ in the atonement “as only forgiveness of sins or amelioration of God’s wrath or substituted punishment” (100). Finally, in chapter four, by understanding the depth and implications of the “magnificent exchange” we realize the grace of God effects not simply our legal standing with Him, but also our ability to become like Him.

It is from this point that Purves devotes a chapter to each theologian to summarize their contributions and provides “theological engagement” (i.e., from other theologians, as well as Purves) with those contributions at the end of each chapter. (Interestingly, Campbell’s “theological engagement” section is by far the longest compared to the brevity for Mackintosh’s and Torrance’s chapters.)

Purves ties up all his exploration in the last chapter with practical theology – that is, with its import for faith, worship, and ministry.

A few closing remarks are in order on audience, readability, and recommendation.

This book is for theologians (professional or aspiring) and learned members of ministry who want to know more about the theological contributions of three Scottish theologians to the conversation of Christology and the Atonement. It is not an introductory work on every theory of the atonement, but rather to the contributions of these theologians in that conversation. It is of typical theological density and will be more readable for those already familiar with atonement language and arguments. At times, it is easy to get lost in his writing as he wades through the mountain of things he wants to say, say well, and say within the scope and word limits of this work. (This is, admittedly, a minor criticism for me, but seemed worth noting for some readers.)

All in all, this book is a labor of love and worship, and every page bears this. I am grateful to have read it.

Note: I received this book from IVP Academic in exchange for an unbiased review.

 

A Lamech Christology

~ Mike Skinner ~ 2 Comments

The Apostle Paul regularly utilized what is called “Adam Christology” – that is, a way of understanding Christ in light of Adam. Just as Adam brought death, so Christ brought life. Just as all those who are in Adam will die, so all those who are in Christ will live.

However, I don’t think Adam is the only foundational human being capable of being utilized in the christological enterprise. Another monumental figure among our “older siblings” is a man named Lamech. His story is told in Genesis 4 – he hails from the line of Cain (the first murderer), is the first polygamous man in Scripture, and intensifies the violence of Cain. His story ends with this poetic brag:

“Lamech said to his wives:
‘Adah and Zillah, hear my voice;
  you wives of Lamech, listen to what I say:
I have killed a man for wounding me,
  a young man for striking me.
If Cain’s revenge is sevenfold,
  then Lamech’s is seventy-sevenfold.'”

Lamech’s song is the song of human history. Our world is a world of glorified violence, a moral ghetto where revenge is trusted above all else.  If there is one non-negotiable creed in our blood-stained culture, it’s the myth of redemptive violence.

In a world like ours, Christ appears as a kind of “second-Lamech.” While our older brother Lamech forged the path of vengeance on which we slavishly walk, our even older brother, Christ, has charted a new path of Kingdom peace and forgiveness.

Interestingly, Jesus explicitly alludes to Lamech’s infamous speech after an inquiry into the number of times required to forgive one’s enemy: “I do not say to you, up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven.” As Richard Beck says poignantly, the Song of Lamech is not the Song of the Lamb.  One might also read Jesus’ statement in Luke 6:27-29 as a direct retort to Lamech’s lyrical boast: “But I say to you who hear, ‘Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. To the one who strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also, and from one who takes away your cloak do not withhold your tunic either.'”

Vengeance came through Lamech, forgiveness has come through Christ.
Lamech brought glorified violence, Christ has brought peace.

All in Lamech will die, but all in Christ shall live.

Did “God” Die on the Cross?

~ Mike Skinner ~ 3 Comments

Yesterday, I engaged in some friendly-fire over twitter with the honorable Dr. Jim West.

The issue: is it precise enough to say that ‘God died on the cross’ or must Christians add the qualifier ‘God the Son died on the cross’?

First, I agree with Jim’s initial concern: the Father did not die on the cross. I also agree that the phrase “God the Son died on the cross” is correct. However, I think an equally strong (and precise) point is made when one states that on the cross “God died.”

As a student of Cyril, I take issue with hedging our bets on Jesus’ divinity: Mary is the Theotokos, not the Christokos. Whatever is true of Jesus is true of God, without qualification, for he is fully and completely divine.

I think there are dangers and temptations lurking around both preferences. I worry that such “precision” in terms leads to tritheism and that folks hear “a third of God had a really bad weekend.”* Jim worries that without the qualifier I’m open to be heard as suggesting either that the Father died or a complete denial of the Trinity.

What do you think?

* Fred Sanders has a brief, but well-written, section on this issue while discussing one of Charles Wesley’s hymns in Jesus in Trinitarian Perspective.

BOL120

QOTD: Richard Bauckham on God as “both free and faithful”

~ Jessica Parks ~ 1 Comment

This is one of my favorite Bauckham quotes, taken from God Crucified: Monotheism and Christology in the New Testament (p.72).  If you’ve not read the book, you should.  It’s a good read!

[T]the identity of the God of Israel does not exclude the unexpected and surprising. Quite the contrary, this God’s freedom as God requires his freedom from all human expectations, even those based on his revealed identity. He may act in new and surprising ways, in which he proves to be the same God, consistent with his known identity, but in unexpected ways. He is both free and faithful. He is not capricious nor is he predictable. He may be trusted to be consistent with himself, but he may surprise in the ways he proves consistent with his himself. The consistency can only be appreciated with hindsight.

See also Mike’s earlier post The Christian God is Surprising.

‘Interchange’ in Christ

~ Jessica Parks ~ 3 Comments

I recently did a book review for my Paul class on Morna Hooker’s From Adam to Christ: Essays on Paul and thought I’d share my summary of her main argument on ‘interchange’ in Christ.

The book is a collection of Hooker’s essays on Pauline theology, most of which focus on Paul’s understanding of redemption.  She notes early on in her introduction that Paul is distinctively Jewish and “saw redemption primarily in corporate terms,” (p 2-3).  Hooker argues that while Paul’s soteriology is originally situated within a salvation-historical framework, following his encounter with Christ Paul comes to understand salvation as ultimately participatory for God’s covenant promises are “effected through incorporation into Christ,” (3).  Because these covenant promises have become universally available to all through Christ, Paul looks to Adam as “the only figure with universal significance” to draw a link between the old and new (5).  From this connection, or juxtaposition rather, Hooker develops the idea of ‘interchange in Christ‘ and its necessary implications.

What does Hooker mean by ‘interchange’?  The idea of ‘interchange’ in Paul’s theology in that “Christ is identified with the human condition in order that we might be identified with his” (26).  Though Hooker clearly favors the term ‘interchange’ she quickly identifies it’s deficiencies, namely, it is not a simple exchange that takes places between Christ and humanity.  According to Hooker, Christ acts not as humanity’s substitute (as many scholars have argued) but as humanity’s representative.  She argues that the interchange that takes place between Christ and those who are ‘in Christ’ is necessarily participatory–as we participate in Christ everything that is true about Christ is true about us.  In other words, “to be in Christ is to be identified with what he is,” (37).

The cornerstone text for Hooker’s understanding of interchange is Paul’s simple yet perplexing proposition in 2 Corinthians 5:21, Christ was made sin in order that we might become the righteousness of God in him.  Hooker stresses the importance of the reciprocal nature of redemption, albeit unbalanced, arguing that “it is necessary, not only for Christ to identify himself with us, but for us to identify ourselves with him,” (43).  Kenosis and cruciformity (though she doesn’t use that word) are prominent themes in Hooker’s interchange framework as it is ultimately through Christ-like “self-abnegation” that we display pistis Christou, faith in the God who raises the dead, the same faith evidenced in the person and work of Christ (46).

Paul’s idea of participation in Christ is fundamental, not only for his Christology, but for his understanding of salvation, of the nature of the redeemed community, of God’s plan for humanity and the world, and of the way of life appropriate for restored humanity. Those who live ‘in Christ’ depend on him. Being changed into his likeness, they reflect his glory; but the glory of the new humanity is the glory of God’s children, who are obedient to him, responding to him in faith, who share the obedience and faith of Christ himself. (9)

Hooker offers some interesting perspectives and I’m particularly partial to her reading of 2 Corinthians 5.21.  Are you familiar with Morna Hooker’s ‘interchange’ description?  If so, any thoughts?