It is not rocket science or logic, it is scripture.
Just one problem--
--his criticism, the accusation that penal substitution is tantamount to child
abuse, a charge levelled by some
feminist theologians and taken up by Steve
Chalke?
38
The claim appears to be that the infliction of pain on a child by
a parent is unjust, and that penal substitution mandates such infliction.
There is an immediate problem here with the criticism, namely that when
the Lord Jesus Christ died he was a child in the sense that he was a son, but
not in the sense that he was a minor.
As an adult, he had a mature will and
could choose whether or not to cooperate with his Father.
So we are in fact
looking at a father and an adult son who will together for the father to inflict
suffering on the son, as we have seen in our Trinitarian exposition.
But there is a major problem here for the critics of penal substitution.
While they have taken up and
used the feminist critique of the cross as a
critique of penal substitution, that criticism originated as a critique not of
penal substitution but of the Christian doctrine of redemption generally.
It attacks the general idea that the Father willed the suffering of the Son, not
the specific idea that he willed the penal substitutionary suffering of the
Son. Here is the criticism, as found in the work of Joanne Carlson Brown
and Rebecca Parker:
The central image of Christ on the cross as the savior of the world communicates the message that suffering is redemptive. . . . The message is complicated
further by the theology that says Christ suffered in obedience to his Father’s
38 Chalke, “Cross Purposes” 47; Chalke and Mann, The Lost Message 182.
84 journal of the evangelical theological society
will.
Divine child abuse is paraded as salvific and the child who suffers “without
even raising a voice” is lauded as the hope of the world.39
Furthermore, it is evident that Brown and Parker attack, not just the idea
that Jesus was a passive sufferer, but even the idea that he was the active
subject of the cross, an idea Green and Baker endorse.
Brown and Parker
argue that if Jesus was active in accepting his suffering, then we have a
model of the victim of suffering being responsible for it, and that such a model
would mandate blaming victims.
They make this move when they criticize
Jürgen Moltman’s statement that Jesus suffered actively: “Jesus is responsible for his death on the cross, just as a woman who walks alone at night
on a deserted street is to blame when she is raped.”40
For many feminists their criticism results in the rejection of Christianity,
because the religion undeniably involves the idea that God purposed the sufferings of Christ.
Others try to rescue a reinvented theology, but the effort is
futile. In the end, if purposed redemptive suffering is regarded as unacceptable, Christianity has to go. The reason is that the child abuse problem, as
understood by these feminist theologians, remains with any model of the
atonement that maintains divine sovereignty, even in a limited form. Unless
we remove the suffering of the Son from the realm of events over which God
rules, then God wills it. A similar point is made by Hans Boersma:
Only by radically limiting Christ’s redemptive role to his life (so that his life
becomes an example to us) or by absolutely dissociating God from any role in
the cross (turning the crucifixion into a solely human act) can we somehow avoid
dealing with the difficulty of divine violence.41
Hence there is a trajectory from unease with penal substitution to a denial
of the sovereign rule of God over the cross, and thence, we may presume, the
world. In the more frank writers, this trajectory emerges clearly.
J. Denny
Weaver, for example, in arguing for a non-violent view of the atonement
which he terms “narrative Christus Victor,” sees that to succeed he must
remove the cross from the plan and purpose of God.
He explains that Jesus
was not sent with the intention that he should die, that his death was not
the will of God, and that it was neither required nor desired by God:
In narrative Christus Victor, Jesus’ mission is certainly not about tricking the
devil.
Neither did the Father send him for the specific purpose of dying, nor was
his mission about death. . . . And since Jesus’ mission was to make the reign
of God visible, his death was not the will of God as it would be if it is a debt
payment owed to God. In narrative Christus Victor, the death of Jesus is clearly
the responsibility of the forces of evil, and it is not needed by or aimed at God.42
Yet in terms of the metaphysics of the divine relationship with creation,
even this view is unsustainable. So long as God sustains the world in which
39 Joanne Carlson Brown and Rebecca Parker, “For God So Loved the World?,” in Christianity,
Patriarchy, and Abuse: A Feminist Critique (ed. Joannne Carlson Brown and Carole R. Bohn;
New York: Pilgrim, 1989) 1–30 (p. 2). 40 Ibid. 18. 41 Hans Boersma, Violence, Hospitality, and the Cross (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2004) 41; cf. p. 117. 42 J. Denny Weaver, The Nonviolent Atonement (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001) 132.
One Line Long
penal substitution: a response to recent criticisms 85
the Son suffers, then in a strong sense he wills the suffering of the Son. If
he does not stop history as the first blow is about to be struck, then he wills
that the Son suffers. There is something that prevents him from intervening
to rescue his beloved Son, some purpose he intends to achieve through the
suffering, and therefore a strong sense in which even such a diminished god
as Weaver’s wills the suffering. If someone else had wrested from God his
work in sustaining the world, if we lived and moved and had our being elsewhere, then perhaps we could say that God did not will the suffering of the
Son. But if purposed redemptive suffering is problematic, then on any view
where God maintains some kind of control of his creation, even in a limited
fashion at arm’s length, the feminist criticism finds its target. And that target
is not just penal substitution.
We therefore need to ask about the criticism itself. Is it valid? It is evidently not so with regard to penal substitutionary atonement. According to
penal substitution, the cross does not have the character simply of suffering,
but of necessary penal suffering for a good end. It is in this sense violent, but
not reducible to the single category of violence. The cross was violent, but
there was more to it than merely an act of violence. We can understand this
if we consider scenarios in which a father and his adult son together purpose
that the son should suffer. Imagine, for example, the father who directs teams
of Médecins Sans Frontières, sending his son into an area where he and the
son know that the son may suffer greatly. The father wills to send the son,
and the son wills to go. There is no injustice here, because the purpose is
good and both parties are willing. The same applies in the case of penal substitution. In fact, the feminist criticism really only applies when we deny
penal substitution, because it is then that we are in danger of denying the
necessity of the suffering of the Son. According to penal substitution the
necessity of punishment arises from God’s own nature and his divine government. He is bound only by who he is, by faithfulness to himself.43 On the
other hand, if we opt for some kind of voluntarist account wherein the suffering of the Son is not a necessity arising from divine justice, then we are
left with a very difficult question, in fact with the feminists’ question at its
most acute. If God can freely remit sins, we must ask, why did the Father send
the Son purposing his death, as Acts 2:23 says? The more deeply we understand the Trinity, the love of the Father for the Son, the more we will ask why
a loving Father would lay the burden of suffering on his eternally beloved
Son. Penal substitution preserves a necessity, which alone explains why this
needed to happen as part of God’s saving plan. Remove the necessity, deny
penal substitution, and then the suffering of the Son is unjustifiable. The
feminists’ criticism attains its full force, because the Father wills the suffering of the Son for no necessary reason.
Christus Victor, for example, taken by itself without penal substitution,
does not explain why Christ needed to suffer like this. Deny penal substitution
43 Contra Green and Baker: “Within a penal substitution model, God’s ability to love and relate
to humans is circumscribed by something outside of God—that is, an abstract concept of justice
instructs God as to how God must behave” (Recovering 147).
86 journal of the evangelical theological society
and Christus Victor is hamstrung. Hence it is that in Col 2:13–15 the victory
over the rulers and authorities is accomplished by forensic means, by the
cancellation of the legal bond (ceirovgrafon; Col 2:14). Victory is understood
by Paul in legal terms. Penal substitution is central because of its explanatory power with regard to the justice of the other models of the atonement.
Note that such a claim affirms rather than denies the existence of other
models, but it also affirms the centrality of penal substitutionary atonement
to them. Without penal substitution, the feminists who reject Christianity
are right that the Father has no sufficient reason to inflict suffering on the
Son. A cross without penal substitution therefore would indeed mandate the
unjustified infliction of suffering on children, because it would have no basis
in justice.