“The Cross as a Symbol: What Meanings Does It Hold?”

Part 1 in a 2-part series on Atonement Theologies

Crestwood UCC

March 26, 2006

Scripture:  Mark 8: 35-36; Mark 12: 28-34

Rev. Jean Morrow

The cross.  What do we make of the cross?  It is a symbol of Christianity, certainly, but what does it mean?  Why is the death of Jesus on the cross of such significance to us? 

Whenever we talk about why Jesus died on the cross…what meaning it holds…we are talking about theories of atonement.  Atonement is kind of like three words smashed together…at-one-ment.  At-one-ment or atonement is the process or means by which we are put back into relationship with God…we are at one with God.  Christians generally agree that somehow the life and death of Jesus resulted in God and us being reconciled to each other. But I’m not sure we know where these ideas came from…how they developed.

If you were to play investigative reporter and ask your average cross-wearing Christian what meanings the cross holds, I would suggest the most common responses fall into a couple of broad, related categories:  “Jesus died on the cross to take away the sins of the world” or “Jesus died to save me” or “Jesus took my sins upon himself and died for me”. If you talked to my deceased evangelical Grandma, who always smelled like baking cookies, she might say something like, “His blood, spilled on the cross, washed away my sins.”

But for some, that isn’t enough of an answer.  There are follow-up questions that need to be asked.  How does that work, exactly?  How does Jesus’ life…and particularly his death…make us one with God? And how does that inform me about the nature of God and my life as a Christian?

Well, if we asked those questions, I’m not sure the average cross-wearing Christian would have an answer.  We aren’t encouraged very often to work those theological questions to their natural conclusions…and mostly we don’t have to. It’s just what everyone seems to believe. If you grew up in a predominantly Christian community, whether your family was Christian or not, it’s probably what you heard in church, it’s the theology that is most common in our hymns and in popular Christian music. In the United Church of Christ, we have no specific atonement doctrine…you are expected to take those theological questions to their natural conclusions through study of scripture, church history, discussion with others…even when it comes to the cross, you are expected to make this faith your own.  But it is just not something that many of us do, and so we may not know where the most common atonement theology comes from and we may not know there are alternative theologies.

So, for some of us, we have grown up uncomfortable with what we know about the theology of the cross, but we don’t really know how to talk about it…so mostly we just keep quiet and try to hang on until Easter.  Am I right?

Well, I’m here to help…whether you want it or not!  For the next two Sundays, we are going to explore historic and contemporary atonement theologies in an attempt to deepen and expand the meanings we give to the cross.  Today, I will trace the roots of two historic atonement theories:  Christ the Victor, which scholars think is the oldest theory of atonement, and Satisfaction or Substitution Theory.  This morning I’ll cover about 1000 years, and next week we will fast forward another 1000 years and look at more contemporary atonement theologies.

So, let’s get started.  From the beginning, theologians have been trying to make the Christian idea of atonement believable and understandable by shaping theories about it in the language and thought in which people of a particular time were grounded.  That makes sense, right?  If you are trying to make sense of it on the Tuesday following Christ’s death and resurrection, you are going to use the language and understandings from the culture at that time.  In the same way, next week when we look at more contemporary theories, we will be utilizing language and thought from our time and culture.

Let’s go back in time. 

Some of you will remember our ancient Christian teacher, Origen, who lived just 200 years after Jesus died, between 180-250 CE.  Origen strongly advocated what has become known as Christ the Victor theory of Atonement, which is also called the Ransom Theory of atonement. Common cultural experiences at that time included empires conquering empires, with battles and invasions being more common to the people’s experience.  Slavery was common and animal sacrifice was practiced in worship. Common beliefs at that time included the active involvement of spirits and devils in daily life.

Christ the Victor theory grew out of that culture and involved three main players:  God, Satan and sinful humankind…and most of the action takes place on a cosmic battlefield.  This is how the theory unfolds.  Satan is holding humans captive in sin.  In some sort of contractual agreement, God hands over Jesus as a ransom or payment to secure the release of our sinful captive souls.  Satan kills Jesus, seeing it as a victory for his empire of evil.  But, that old devil, Satan, is deceived by God.  In resurrecting or raising Jesus from the dead…an act that God can do because Jesus was without sin, perfect, and unblemished…God has tricked Satan, has triumphed in winning the souls of humanity, has successfully reclaimed Jesus back to God-self, and remains as the undefeated, victorious ruler of the universe.

Looking back from our time and place, it is kind of a made-for-the-big-screen theory, isn’t it?  But the problem is that it isn’t very flattering to anyone in it.  We pathetically sinful humans are simply prizes to be won in some cosmic contest.  God is at best tricky, at worst dishonest.  Jesus is a pawn in a strange contest.  And Satan comes out looking like he might have played fair…and that really challenges my theology.

There are two important cultural pieces that I want to tease out before we move on.  First is the concept of ransom.  Jesus is said to have described his death as a “ransom for many” by the author of Mark.  In the culture at that time, a ransom was the payment to an owner for a slave’s freedom or a captive’s freedom.  It is never used biblically to refer to anything like a payment or atonement to God for sin.  That’s not a meaning that’s in the text.

But, it’s understandable how the word ransom gets reinterpreted in the cosmic story that began to be taught and circulate at that time.  Satan is paid off in souls, just like a slave-owner is paid off.  It wouldn’t have been a hard stretch for people to make back then.

The other thing that is important to remember is that, though animal sacrifice is not common in our form of worship, it was very common back then.  Animals sacrificed as a form of religious piety would have been normal.  You killed animals regularly for meals…and you killed animals regularly as an offering or gift to God.  There is scholarly disagreement on whether it was an act of gratitude to God for blessings or as a payoff to God, so that God would continue to provide blessings…but regardless, a sacrifice of a living creature to God was a part of their daily life.  Again, it doesn’t stretch us hard to see that Jesus, the innocent lamb sacrificed as a payoff to Satan by God for the souls of all humankind, could become part of the common religious vernacular for early Christians.

Christ the Victory Theory is not entirely unappealing today.  God wins, Jesus wins.  We all win.  And we take some comfort in the theory because we want God to be in charge…and we can remain comfortable as long as we don’t ask too many questions about what this tells us about the nature of God.

Well, Christ the Victor theory of why Jesus died became less and less popular as the centuries rolled on and the culture and the thinking changed, but it did hang on as the church’s orthodox position for nearly 1000 years. 

In the 11^th century we see a shift to the second atonement theory I want to talk about…it is the theory that is commonly referred to as the Satisfaction Theory of Atonement…and this is the theory that has dominated for the past 1000 years and, I would suggest, is the predominant atonement image held today. It is the one that I believe provides the foundation for phrases like, “Jesus died for the sins of the world” and “Jesus died for my sins.”

The theologian whose scholarly work caught on in the 11^th century was Anselm, the Archbishop of Canterbury.  Let’s begin by taking a look at the culture that produced the Satisfaction Theory. It’s the Middle Ages, there are no longer animal sacrifices.  The view of the cosmos is changing.  Society has shifted towards feudalism and fiefdoms.  With feudalism, there is an emerging legal system with courts and judges and lawyers.  With fiefdoms, there is more of a local government concept at work, with medieval peasants and squires owing honor and loyalty to their lords and overlord in exchange for legal and military protection. This is the era of knights and chivalry.

And from this, the Satisfaction Theory of Atonement emerges.  Anselm no longer sees the need to make a payment or ransom to Satan.  Satan gets kicked out.  His approach to at-one-ment involves humankind and God.  Satisfaction theory of atonement describes sin as the human way of dishonoring God…and people owed honor to God just as peasants owed honor to lords.  Anselm wrote that Jesus’ death was necessary in order to satisfy the offended honor of God.  Human sin had offended God’s honor and thus had upset the divine order in the universe. You can see how this theology emerged out of the language and understanding of his culture?

According to the codes of chivalry, one atoned or paid for a crime either by receiving punishment or by providing satisfaction to the injured person.    So, as the theory goes, since God did not want to punish humans forever/eternally (which our sinfulness deserved) and since humans had no means to make the situation right…we had no adequate means to render satisfaction to the injured honor of God, God figured out a plan.  God found a way to make restitution for humanity.  God satisfied God’s own violated honor by sending God’s only Son to earth in human form…ultimately to die on the cross…to make things right. 

This theory is often referred to as the substitution theory:  Jesus, being pure, and unblemished and without sin, is the substitute, taking on the sins of the world.

This theory, I believe, is still the most popular today.  For some denominations it is church doctrine.  For some denominations, believing that Jesus died on the cross for your sins is the only way to be saved.  There is a historical reason for that.  As theologies evolved through the Reformation and Enlightenment and into the modern era, the sacrificial language and understanding has strengthened and have taken on more importance, which we still hear today as people talk about the cross and Jesus’ death.

The problem for some of us is that, not unlike the “cosmic battle with Satan” theory, the Satisfaction Theory, with its emphasis on Jesus being sacrificed by God, makes less and less sense to us as our own culture shifts and changes…and the centuries wear on.  It just doesn’t present a very appealing image of God.  At worst, God is a divine child abuser, sacrificing his own child.  At best, God has strange, self-imposed limits.  God had to pay Gods-self off.  If God can do anything God chooses, couldn’t God simply forgive humans who were truly sorry?  That’s what happened in the story of the prodigal son that Jesus told.  The father forgave his son…before he did anything to deserve it…with no punishment.  The God that Jesus taught about could have done that…but not the God that the theologians of the middle ages talked about. 

And that, I would suggest, is a big problem.  God, as represented in the Christ the Victor Theory or the Satisfaction Theory, doesn’t seem like the same God that Jesus taught us about. 

And neither theory really carves out much of a path for us. There seems to be this notion that if you believe Jesus died for your sins, that’s all it takes to be “at one” with God.  That’s it.  You’re saved.  And yet, the path of discipleship that we learn of in the Gospels calls for much, much more.  

Jesus didn’t spend much time crafting atonement theologies or church doctrine. He didn’t say, believe in me and that’s it.  He did say, “Follow me, live like me, do what I do, love God, love your neighbor, it’s the only way that makes sense for humanity, it’s the only way to bring about and experience the reign of God in the world.”

And he wasn’t naïve.  He knew the way would be difficult.  He knew his teachings and practices challenged the imperial and religious authorities of his day.  He knew that the way of love that he taught could be dangerous for those who followed.

But, he still said, “Follow me.  Live like me.  Do what I do.  Love God and love your neighbor.” 

And he died rather than take it back…rather than take back what he said about a God of love who would have us care so deeply about our neighbor that we would stand up with them and for them.

I would suggest that living like Jesus is a lot harder than accepting a theory about Jesus.

My friends, this is a good place to stop, because next week we are going to move about 1000 years ahead of where we left off today and we will examine more contemporary thoughts about the meaning of Jesus’ life and death that are emerging in our own cultural context.

In the week to come, I would encourage you to take some time to think about what the cross means to you.  What is it about Jesus life and death that speaks to your heart.  And what is it about Jesus that keeps you putting one foot in front of the other on what can often be a challenging path of discipleship.

References:

Peter C. Hodgson & Robert H. King, Christian Theology: An Introduction to Its Traditions and Tasks (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1994) 222-245.

Peter C. Hodgson, Winds of the Spirit (Louisville: Westminister John Knox Press: 1994), 231-264.

Daniel L. Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding (Cambridge: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1991), 139-156.

Delores S. Williams, Sisters in the Wilderness: The Challenges of Womanist God-Talk (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1993) 161-170.