The Doctrine of the
Atonement
Three lectures by J. Gresham Machen
Part
I: The Doctrine of the
Atonement
THE priestly work
of Christ, or at least that part of it in which He
offered
Himself up as a sacrifice to satisfy divine justice and reconcile us to
God, is
commonly called the atonement, and the doctrine which sets it forth is
commonly
called the doctrine of the atonement. That doctrine is at the very
heart of
what is taught in the Word of God.
Before we present that doctrine, we ought to observe that the term by
which it
is ordinarily designated is not altogether free from objection.
When I say that the term ‘atonement’ is open to objection, I am not
referring
to the fact that it occurs only once in the King James Version of the
New
Testament, and is therefore, so far as New Testament usage is
concerned, not a
common Biblical term. A good many other terms which are rare in the
Bible are
nevertheless admirable terms when one comes to summarise Biblical
teaching. As
a matter of fact this term is rather common in the Old Testament
(though it
occurs only that once in the New Testament), but that fact would not be
necessary to commend it if it were satisfactory in other ways. Even if
it were
not common in either Testament it still might be exactly the term for
us to use
to designate by one word what the Bible teaches in a number of words.
The real objection to it is of an entirely different kind. It is a
twofold
objection. The word atonement in the first place, is ambiguous,
and in
the second place, it is not broad enough.
The one place where the word occurs in the King James Version of the
New
Testament is Romans 5:11, where Paul says:
And not only so, but we also joy in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom we have now received the atonement.
Here the word is
used to
translate a Greek word meaning ‘reconciliation.’ This usage seems to be
very
close to the etymological meaning of the word, for it does seem to be
true that
the English word ‘atonement’ means ‘atonement.’ It is, therefore,
according to
its derivation, a natural word to designate the state of reconciliation
between
two parties formerly at variance.
In the Old Testament, on the other hand, where the word occurs in the
King
James Version not once, but forty or fifty times, it has a different
meaning;
it has the meaning of ‘propitiation.’ Thus we read in Leviticus 1:4,
regarding
a man who brings a bullock to be killed as a burnt offering:
And he shall put his hand upon the head of the burnt offering; and it shall be accepted for him to make atonement for him.
So also the word occurs some eight times in the King James Version in the sixteenth chapter of Leviticus, where the provisions of the law are set forth regarding the great day of atonement. Take, for example, the following verses in that chapter:
And Aaron shall offer
his bullock of the sin offering, which is for himself, and make an
atonement
for himself, and for his house
(Lev.
16:6).
Then shall he kill the goat of the sin offering that is for the
people, and
bring his blood within the veil, and do with that blood as he did with
the
blood of the bullock, and sprinkle it upon the mercy seat:
And he shall make atonement for the holy place, because of the
uncleanness of
the children of Israel, and because of their transgressions in all
their sins:
and so shall he do for the tabernacle of the congregation, that
remaineth among
them in the midst of their uncleanness (Lev. 16:15f.).
In these passages
the meaning
of the word is clear. God has been offended because of the sins of the
people
or of individuals among His people. The priest kills the animal which
is
brought as a sacrifice. God is thereby propitiated, and those who have
offended
God are forgiven.
I am not now asking whether those Old Testament sacrifices brought
forgiveness
in themselves, or merely as prophecies of a greater sacrifice to come;
I am not
now considering the significant limitations which the Old Testament law
attributes to their efficacy. We shall try to deal with those matters
in some
subsequent talk. All that I am here interested in is the use of the
word
‘atonement’ in the English Bible. All that I am saying is that that
word in the
Old Testament clearly conveys the notion of something that is done to
satisfy
God in order that the sins of men may be forgiven and their communion
with God
restored.
Somewhat akin to this Old Testament use of the word ‘atonement’ is the
use of
it in our everyday parlance where religion is not at all in view. Thus
we often
say that someone in his youth was guilty of a grievous fault but has
fully
‘atoned’ for it or made full ‘atonement’ for it by a long and useful
life. We
mean by that that the person in question has — if we may use a
colloquial
phrase — ‘made up for’ his youthful indiscretion by his subsequent life
of
usefulness and rectitude. Mind you, I am not at all saying that a man
can
really ‘make up for’ or ‘atone for’ a youthful sin by a subsequent life
of
usefulness and rectitude; but I am just saying that that indicates the
way in
which the English word is used. In our ordinary usage the word
certainly
conveys the idea of something like compensation for some wrong that has
been
done.
It certainly conveys that notion also in those Old Testament passages.
Of
course that is not the only notion that it conveys in those passages.
There the
use of the word is very much more specific. The compensation which is
indicated
by the word is a compensation rendered to God, and it is a compensation
that
has become necessary because of an offence committed against God.
Still, the
notion of compensation or satisfaction is clearly in the word. God is
offended
because of sin; satisfaction is made to Him in some way by the
sacrifice; and
so His favour is restored.
Thus in the English Bible the word ‘atonement’ is used in two rather
distinct
senses. In its one occurrence in the New Testament it designates the
particular
means by which such reconciliation is effected — namely, the sacrifice
which
God is pleased to accept in order that man may again be received into
favour.
Now of these two uses of the word it is unquestionably the Old
Testament use
which is followed when we speak of the ‘doctrine of the atonement.’ We
mean by
the word, when we thus use it in theology, not the reconciliation
between God
and man, not the ‘at-onement’ between God and man, but specifically the
means
by which that reconciliation is effected — namely, the death of Christ
as
something that was necessary in order that sinful man might be received
into
communion with God.
I do not see any great objection to the use of the word in that way —
provided
only that we are perfectly clear that we are using it in that way.
Certainly it
has acquired too firm a place in Christian theology and has gathered
around it
too many precious associations for us to think, now, of trying to
dislodge it.
However, there is another word which would in itself have been much
better, and
it is really a great pity that it has not come into more general use in
this
connection. That is the word ‘satisfaction.’ If we only had acquired
the habit
of saying that Christ made full satisfaction to God for man that would
have
conveyed a more adequate account of Christ’s priestly work as our
Redeemer than
the word ‘atonement’ can convey. It designates what the word
‘atonement’ —
rightly understood — designates, and it also designates something more.
We
shall see what that something more is in a subsequent talk.
But it is time now for us to enter definitely into our great subject.
Men were
estranged from God by sin; Christ as their great high priest has
brought them
back into communion with God. How has He done so? That is the question
with
which we shall be dealing in a number of the talks that now follow.
This afternoon all that I can do is to try to state the Scripture
doctrine in
bare summary (or begin to state it), leaving it to subsequent talks to
show how
that Scripture doctrine is actually taught in the Scriptures, to defend
it
against objections, and to distinguish it clearly from various
unscriptural
theories.
What then in bare outline does the Bible teach about the ‘atonement’?
What does
it teach — to use a better term — about the satisfaction which Christ
presented
to God in order that sinful man might be received into God’s favour?
I cannot possibly answer this question even in bare summary unless I
call your
attention to the Biblical doctrine of sin with which we dealt last
winter. You
cannot possibly understand what the Bible says about salvation unless
you
understand what the Bible says about the thing from which we are saved.
If then we ask what is the Biblical doctrine of sin, we observe, in the
first
place, that according to the Bible all men are sinners.
Well, then, that being so, it becomes important to ask what this sin is
which
has affected all mankind. Is it just an excusable imperfection; is it
something
that can be transcended as a man can transcend the immaturity of his
youthful
years? Or, supposing it to be more than imperfection, supposing it to
be something
like a definite stain, is it a stain that can easily be removed as
writing is
erased from a slate?
The Bible leaves us in no doubt as to the answer to these questions.
Sin, it
tells us, is disobedience to the law of God, and the law of God is
entirely
irrevocable.
Why is the law of God irrevocable? The Bible makes that plain. Because
it is
rooted in the nature of God! God is righteous and that is the reason
why His
law is righteous. Can He then revoke His law or allow it to be
disregarded? Well,
there is of course no external compulsion upon Him to prevent Him from
doing
these things. There is none who can say to Him, ‘What doest thou?’ In
that
sense He can do all things. But the point is, He cannot revoke His law
and
still remain God. He cannot, without Himself becoming unrighteous, make
His law
either forbid righteousness or condone unrighteousness. When the law of
God
says, ‘The soul that sinneth it shall die,’ that awful penalty of death
is,
indeed, imposed by God’s will; but God’s will is determined by God’s
nature,
and God’s nature being unchangeably holy the penalty must run its
course. God
would be untrue to Himself, in other words, if sin were not punished;
and that
God should be untrue to Himself is the most impossible thing that can
possibly
be conceived.
Under that majestic law of God man was placed in the estate wherein he
was
created. Man was placed in a probation, which theologians call the
covenant of
works. If he obeyed the law during a certain limited period, his
probation was to
be over; he would be given eternal life without any further possibility
of
loss. If, on the other hand, he disobeyed the law, he would have death
—
physical death and eternal death in hell.
Man entered into that probation with every advantage. He was created in
knowledge, righteousness and holiness. He was created not merely
neutral with
respect to goodness; he was created positively good. Yet he fell. He
failed to
make his goodness an assured and eternal goodness; he failed to
progress from
the goodness of innocency to the confirmed goodness which would have
been the
reward for standing the test. He transgressed the commandment of God,
and so
came under the awful curse of the law.
Under that curse came all mankind. That covenant of works had been made
with
the first man, Adam, not only for himself but for his posterity. He had
stood,
in that probation, in a representative capacity; he had stood — to use
a better
terminology — as the federal head of the race, having been made the
federal
head of the race by divine appointment. If he had successfully met the
test,
all mankind descended from him would have been born in a state of
confirmed
righteousness and blessedness, without any possibility of falling into
sin or
of losing eternal life. But as a matter of fact Adam did not
successfully meet
the test. He transgressed the commandment of God, and since he was the
federal
head, the divinely appointed representative of the race, all mankind
sinned in
him and fell with him in his first transgression.
Thus all mankind, descended from Adam by ordinary generation, are
themselves
under the dreadful penalty of the law of God. They are under that
penalty at
birth, before they have done anything either good or bad. Part of that
penalty
is the want of the righteousness with which man was created, and a
dreadful
corruption which is called original sin. Proceeding from that
corruption when
men grow to years of discretion come individual acts of transgression.
Can the penalty of sin resting upon all mankind be remitted? Plainly
not, if
God is to remain God. That penalty of sin was ordained in the law of
God, and
the law of God was no mere arbitrary and changeable arrangement but an
expression of the nature of God Himself. If the penalty of sin were
remitted,
God would become unrighteous, and that God will not become unrighteous
is the
most certain thing that can possibly be conceived.
How then can sinful men be saved? In one way only. Only if a substitute
is
provided who shall pay for them the just penalty of God’s law.
The Bible teaches that such a substitute has as a matter of fact been
provided.
The substitute is Jesus Christ. The law’s demands of penalty must be
satisfied.
There is no escaping that. But Jesus Christ satisfied those demands for
us when
He died instead of us on the cross.
I have used the word ‘satisfied’ advisedly. It is very important for us
to
observe that when Jesus died upon the cross He made a full satisfaction
for our
sins; He paid the penalty which the law pronounces upon our sin, not in
part
but in full.
In saying that, there are several misunderstandings which need to be
guarded
against in the most careful possible way. Only by distinguishing the
Scripture
doctrine carefully from several distortions of it can we understand
clearly
what the Scripture doctrine is. I want to point out, therefore, several
things
that we do not mean when we say that Christ paid the penalty of our sin
by
dying instead of us on the cross.
In the first place, we do not mean that when Christ took our place He
became
Himself a sinner. Of course He did not become a sinner. Never was His
glorious
righteousness and goodness more wonderfully seen than when He bore the
curse of
God’s law upon the cross. He was not deserving of that curse. Far from
it! He
was deserving of all praise.
What we mean, therefore, when we say that Christ bore our guilt is not
that He
became guilty, but that He paid the penalty that we so richly deserved.
In the second place, we do not mean that Christ’s sufferings were the
same as
the sufferings that we should have endured if we had paid the penalty
of our
own sins. Obviously they were not the same. Part of the sufferings that
we
should have endured would have been the dreadful suffering of remorse.
Christ
did not endure that suffering, for He had done no wrong. Moreover, our
sufferings would have endured to all eternity, whereas Christ’s
sufferings on
the cross endured but a few hours. Plainly then His sufferings were not
the
same as ours would have been.
In the third place, however, an opposite error must also be warded off.
If
Christ’s sufferings were not the same as ours, it is also quite untrue
to say
that He paid only a part of the penalty that was due to us because of
our sin.
Some theologians have fallen into that error. When man incurred the
penalty of
the law, they have said, God was pleased to take some other and lesser
thing —
namely, the sufferings of Christ on the cross — instead of exacting the
full
penalty. Thus, according to these theologians, the demands of the law
were not
really satisfied by the death of Christ, but God was simply pleased, in
arbitrary fashion, to accept something less than full satisfaction.
That is a very serious error indeed. Instead of falling into it we
shall, if we
are true to the Scriptures, insist that Christ on the cross paid the
full and
just penalty for our sin.
The error arose because of a confusion between the payment of a debt
and the
payment of a penalty. In the case of a debt it does not make any
difference who
pays; all that is essential is that the creditor shall receive what is
owed
him. What is essential is that just the same thing shall be paid as
that which
stood in the bond.
But in the case of the payment of a penalty it does make a difference
who pays.
The law demanded that we should suffer eternal death because of our
sin. Christ
paid the penalty of the law in our stead. But for Him to suffer was not
the
same as for us to suffer. He is God, and not merely man. Therefore if
He had
suffered to all eternity as we should have suffered, that would not
have been
to pay the just penalty of the sin, but it would have been an unjust
exaction
of vastly more. In other words, we must get rid of merely quantitative
notions
in thinking of the sufferings of Christ. What He suffered on the cross
was what
the law of God truly demanded not of any person but of such a person as
Himself
when He became our substitute in paying the penalty of sin. He did
therefore
make full and not merely partial satisfaction for the claims of the law
against
us.
Finally, it is very important to observe that the Bible’s teaching
about the
cross of Christ does not mean that God waited for someone else to pay
the
penalty of sin before He would forgive the sinner. So unbelievers
constantly
represent it, but that representation is radically wrong. No, God
Himself paid
the penalty of sin — God Himself in the Person of God the Son, who
loved us and
gave Himself for us, God Himself in the person of God the Father who so
loved
the world as to give His only-begotten Son, God the Holy Spirit who
applies to
us the benefits of Christ’s death. God’s the cost and ours the
marvellous gain!
Who shall measure the depths of the love of God which was extended to
us
sinners when the Lord Jesus took our place and died in our stead upon
the accursed
tree?
LAST Sunday afternoon, in outlining the Biblical teaching about the
work of
Christ in satisfying for us the claims of God’s law, I said nothing
about one
very important part of that work. I pointed out that Christ by His
death in our
stead on the cross paid the just penalty of our sin, but I said nothing
of
another thing that He did for us. I said nothing about what Christ did
for us
by His active obedience to God’s law. It is very important that we
should fill
out that part of the outline before we go one step further.
Suppose Christ had done for us merely what we said last Sunday
afternoon that
He did. Suppose He had merely paid the just penalty of the law that was
resting
upon us for our sin, and had done nothing more than that; where would
we then
be? Well, I think we can say — if indeed it is legitimate to separate
one part
of the work of Christ even in thought from the rest — that if Christ
had merely
paid the penalty of sin for us and had done nothing more we should be
at best
back in the situation in which Adam found himself when God placed him
under the
covenant of works.
That covenant of works was a probation. If Adam kept the law of God for
a
certain period, he was to have eternal life. If he disobeyed he was to
have
death. Well, he disobeyed, and the penalty of death was inflicted upon
him and
his posterity. Then Christ by His death on the cross paid that penalty
for
those whom God had chosen.
Well and good. But if that were all that Christ did for us, do you not
see that
we should be back in just the situation in which Adam was before he
sinned? The
penalty of his sinning would have been removed from us because it had
all been
paid by Christ. But for the future the attainment of eternal life would
have
been dependent upon our perfect obedience to the law of God. We should
simply
have been back in the probation again.
Moreover, we should have been back in that probation in a very much
less
hopeful way than that in which Adam was originally placed in it.
Everything was
in Adam’s favour when he was placed in the probation. He had been
created in
knowledge, righteousness and holiness. He had been created positively
good. Yet
despite all that, he fell. How much more likely would we be to fall —
nay, how
certain to fall — if all that Christ had done for us were merely to
remove from
us the guilt of past sin, leaving it then to our own efforts to win the
reward
which God has pronounced upon perfect obedience!
But I really must decline to speculate any further about what might
have been
if Christ had done something less for us than that which He has
actually done.
As a matter of fact, He has not merely paid the penalty of Adam’s first
sin,
and the penalty of the sins which we individually have committed, but
also He
has positively merited for us eternal life. He was, in other words, our
representative both in penalty paying and in probation keeping. He paid
the
penalty of sin for us, and He stood the probation for us.
That is the reason why those who have been saved by the Lord Jesus
Christ are
in a far more blessed condition than was Adam before he fell. Adam
before he
fell was righteous in the sight of God, but he was still under the
possibility
of becoming unrighteous. Those who have been saved by the Lord Jesus
Christ not
only are righteous in the sight of God but they are beyond the
possibility of
becoming unrighteous. In their case, the probation is over. It is not
over
because they have stood it successfully. It is not over because they
have
themselves earned the reward of assured blessedness which God promised
on
condition of perfect obedience. But it is over because Christ has stood
it for
them; it is over because Christ has merited for them the reward by His
perfect
obedience to God’s law.
I think I can make the matter plain if I imagine a dialogue between the
law of
God and a sinful man saved by grace.
‘Man,’ says the law of
God, ‘have you obeyed my commands?’
‘No,’ says the sinner saved by grace. ‘I have disobeyed them, not only
in the
person of my representative Adam in his first sin, but also in that I
myself
have sinned in thought, word and deed.’
‘Well, then, sinner,’ says the law of God, ‘have you paid the penalty
which I
pronounced upon disobedience?’
‘No,’ says the sinner, ‘I have not paid the penalty myself; but Christ
has paid
it for me. He was my representative when He died there on the cross.
Hence, so
far as the penalty is concerned, I am clear.’
‘Well, then, sinner,’ says the law of God, ‘how about the conditions
which God
has pronounced for the attainment of assured blessedness? Have you
stood the
test? Have you merited eternal life by perfect obedience during the
period of
probation?’
‘No,’ says the sinner, ‘I have not merited eternal life by my own
perfect obedience.
God knows and my own conscience knows that even after I became a
Christian I
have sinned in thought, word and deed. But although I have not merited
eternal
life by any obedience of my own, Christ has merited it for me by His
perfect
obedience. He was not for Himself subject to the law. No obedience was
required
of Him for Himself, since He was Lord of all. That obedience, then,
which He
rendered to the law when He was on earth was rendered by Him as my
representative. I have no righteousness of my own, but clad in Christ’s
perfect
righteousness, imputed to me and received by faith alone, I can glory
in the
fact that so far as I am concerned the probation has been kept and as
God is
true there awaits me the glorious reward which Christ thus earned for
me.’
Such,
put in bald, simple form, is the dialogue between every Christian and
the law
of God. How gloriously complete is the salvation wrought for us by
Christ!
Christ paid the penalty, and He merited the reward. Those are the two
great
things that He has done for us.
Theologians are accustomed to distinguish those two parts of the saving
work of
Christ by calling one of them His passive obedience and the other of
them His
active obedience. By His passive obedience — that is, by suffering in
our stead
— He paid the penalty for us; by His active obedience — that is, by
doing what
the law of God required — He has merited for us the reward.
I like that terminology well enough. I think it does set forth as well
as can
be done in human language the two aspects of Christ’s work. And yet a
danger
lurks in it if it leads us to think that one of the two parts of
Christ’s work
can be separated from the other.
How shall we distinguish Christ’s active obedience from His passive
obedience?
Shall we say that He accomplished His active obedience by His life and
accomplished His passive obedience by His death? No, that will not do
at all.
During every moment of His life upon earth Christ was engaged in His
passive
obedience. It was all for Him humiliation, was it not? It was all
suffering. It
was all part of His payment of the penalty of sin. On the other hand,
we cannot
say that His death was passive obedience and not active obedience. On
the
contrary, His death was the crown of His active obedience. It was the
crown of
that obedience to the law of God by which He merited eternal life for
those
whom He came to save.
Do you not see, then, what the true state of the case is? Christ’s
active
obedience and His passive obedience are not two divisions of His work,
some of
the events of His earthly life being His active obedience and other
events of
His life being His passive obedience; but every event of His life was
both
active obedience and passive obedience. Every event of His life was a
part of
His payment of the penalty of sin, and every event of His life was a
part of
that glorious keeping of the law of God by which He earned for His
people the
reward of eternal life. The two aspects of His work, in other words,
are
inextricably intertwined. Neither was performed apart from the other.
Together
they constitute the wonderful, full salvation which was wrought for us
by
Christ our Redeemer.
We can put it briefly by saying that Christ took our place with respect
to the
law of God. He paid for us the law’s penalty, and He obeyed for us the
law’s
commands. He saved us from hell, and He earned for us our entrance into
heaven.
All that we have, then, we owe unto Him. There is no blessing that we
have in
this world or the next for which we should not give Christ thanks.
As I say that, I am fully conscious of the inadequacy of my words. I
have tried
to summarise the teaching of the Bible about the saving work of Christ;
yet how
cold and dry seems any mere human summary — even if it were far better
than
mine — in comparison with the marvellous richness and warmth of the
Bible
itself. It is to the Bible itself that I am going to ask you to turn
with me
next Sunday afternoon. Having tried to summarise the Bible’s teaching
in order
that we may take each part of the Bible in proper relation to other
parts, I am
going to ask you next Sunday to turn with me to the great texts
themselves, in
order that we may test our summary, and every human summary, by what
God
Himself has told us in His Word. Ah, when we do that, what refreshment
it is to
our souls! How infinitely superior is God’s Word to all human attempts
to
summarise its teaching! Those attempts are necessary; we could not do
without
them; everyone who is really true to the Bible will engage in them. But
it is
the very words of the Bible that touch the heart, and everything that
we — or
for the matter of that even the great theologians — say in summary of
the Bible
must be compared ever anew with the Bible itself.
This afternoon, however, just in order that next Sunday we may begin
our
searching of the Scriptures in the most intelligent possible way, I am
going to
ask you to glance with me at one or two of the different views that men
have
held regarding the cross of Christ.
I have already summarised for you the orthodox view. According to that
view,
Christ took our place on the cross, paying the penalty of am that we
deserved
to pay. That view can be put in very simple language. We deserved
eternal death
because of sin; Jesus, because He loved us, took our place and died in
our
stead on the cross. Call that view repulsive if you will. It is indeed
repulsive to the natural man. But do not call it difficult to
understand. A
little child can understand it, and can receive it to the salvation of
his
soul.
Rejecting that substitutionary view, many men have advanced other
views. Many
are the theories of the atonement. Yet I do think that their
bewildering
variety may be reduced to something like order if we observe that they
fall
into a very few general divisions.
Most common among them is the theory that Christ’s death upon the cross
had
merely a moral effect upon man. Man is by nature a child of God, say
the
advocates of that view. But unfortunately he is not making full use of
his high
privilege. He has fallen into terrible degradation, and having fallen
into
terrible degradation he has become estranged from God. He no longer
lives in
that intimate relationship of sonship with God in which he ought to
live.
How shall this estrangement between man and God be removed; how shall
man be
brought back into fellowship with God? Why, say the advocates of the
view of
which we are now speaking, simply by inducing man to turn from his evil
ways
and make full use of his high privilege as a child of God. There is
certainly
no barrier on God’s side; the only barrier lies in man’s foolish and
wicked
heart. Once overcome that barrier and all will be well. Once touch
man’s stony
heart so that he will come to see again that God is his Father, once
lead him
also to overcome any fear of God as though God were not always more
ready to
forgive than man is to be forgiven; and at once the true relationship
between
God and man can be restored and man can go forward joyously to the use,
in holy
living, of his high privilege as a child of the loving heavenly Father.
But how can man’s heart be touched, that he may be led to return to his
Father’s house and live as befits a son of God? By the contemplation of
the
cross of Christ, say the advocates of the view that we are now
presenting.
Jesus Christ was truly a son of God. Indeed, He was a son of God in
such a
unique way that He may be called in some sort the Son of God. When
therefore
God gave Him to die upon the cross and when He willingly gave Himself
to die,
that was a wonderful manifestation of God’s love for sinning, erring
humanity.
In the presence of that love all opposition in man’s heart should be
broken
down. He should recognise at last the fact that God is indeed his
Father, and
recognising that, he should make use of his high privilege of living
the life
that befits a child of God.
Such is the so-called ‘moral-influence theory’ of the atonement. It is
held in
a thousand different forms, and it is held by thousands of people who
have not
the slightest notion that they are holding it.
Some of those who have held it have tried to maintain with it something
like a
real belief in the deity of Christ. If Christ was really the eternal
Son of
God, then the gift of Him on the cross becomes all the greater evidence
of the
love of God. But the overwhelming majority of those who hold the
moral-influence view of the atonement have given up all real belief in
the
deity of Christ. These persons hold simply that Jesus on the cross gave
us a
supreme example of self-sacrifice. By that example we are inspired to
do likewise.
We are inspired to sacrifice our lives, either in actual martyrdom in
some holy
cause or in sacrificial service. Sacrificing thus our lives, we
discover that
we have thereby attained a higher life than ever before. Thus the cross
of
Christ has been the pathway that leads us to moral heights.
Read most of the popular books on religion of the present day, and then
tell me
whether you do not think that that is at bottom what they mean. Some of
them
speak about the cross of Christ. Some of them say that Christ’s
sufferings were
redemptive. But the trouble is they hold that the cross of Christ is
not merely
Christ’s cross but our cross; and that while Christ’s sufferings were
redemptive our sufferings are redemptive too. All they really mean is
that Christ
on Calvary pointed out a way that we follow. He hallowed the pathway of
self-sacrifice. We follow in that path and thus we obtain a higher life
for our
souls.
That is the great central and all-pervading vice of most modern books
that deal
with the cross. They make the cross of Christ merely an example of a
general
principle of self-sacrifice. And if they talk still of salvation, they
tell us
that we are saved by walking in the way of the cross. It is thus,
according to
this view, not Christ’s cross but our cross that saves us. The way of
the cross
leads us to God. Christ may have a great influence in leading us to
walk in
that way of the cross, that way of self-sacrifice; but it is our
walking in it
and not Christ’s walking in it which really saves us. Thus we are saved
by our
own efforts, not by Christ’s blood after all. It is the same old notion
that
sinful man can save himself. It is that notion just decked out in new
garments
and making use of Christian terminology.
Such is the moral-influence theory of the atonement. In addition to it,
we find
what is sometimes called the governmental theory. What a strange,
compromising,
tortuous thing that governmental theory is, to be sure!
According to the governmental view, the death of Christ was not
necessary in
order that any eternal justice of God, rooted in the divine nature,
might be
satisfied. So far the governmental view goes with the advocates of the
moral-influence theory. But, it holds, the death of Christ was
necessary in
order that good discipline might be maintained in the world. If sinners
were
allowed to get the notion that sin could go altogether unpunished,
there would
be no adequate deterrent from sin. Being thus undeterred from sin, men
would go
on sinning and the world would be thrown into confusion. But if the
world were
thus thrown into moral confusion that would not be for the best
interests of
the greatest number. Therefore God held up the death of Christ on the
cross as
an indication of how serious a thing sin is, so that men may be
deterred from
sinning and so order in the world may be preserved.
Having thus indicated — so the governmental theory runs — how serious a
thing
sin is, God proceeded to offer salvation to men on easier terms than
those on
which He had originally offered it. He had originally offered it on the
basis
of perfect obedience. Now He offered it on the basis of faith. He could
safely
offer it on those easier terms, and He could safely remit the penalty
originally pronounced upon sin, because in the awful spectacle of the
cross of
Christ He had sufficiently indicated to men that sin is a serious
offence and
that if it is committed something or other has to be done about the
matter in
order that the good order of the universe may be conserved.
Such is the governmental theory. But do you not see that really at
bottom it is
just a form of the moral-influence theory? Like the moral-influence
theory, it
holds that the only obstacle to fellowship between man and God is found
in
man’s will. Like the moral-influence theory it denies that there is any
eternal
justice of God, rooted in His being, and it denies that the eternal
justice of
God demands the punishment of sin. Like the moral-influence theory it
plays
fast and loose with God’s holiness, and like the moral-influence
theory, we may
add, it loses sight of the real depths of God’s love. No man who holds
the
light view of sin that is involved in these man-made theories has the
slightest
notion of what it cost when the eternal Son of God took our place upon
the
accursed tree.
People sometimes say, indeed, that it makes little difference what
theory of
the atonement we may hold. Ah, my friends, it makes all the difference
in the
world. When you contemplate the cross of Christ, do you say merely,
with modern
theorists, ‘What a noble example of self-sacrifice; I am going to
attain favour
with God by sacrificing myself as well as He.’ Or do you say with the
Bible,
‘He loved me and gave Himself for me; He took my place; He bore my
curse; He
bought me with His own most precious blood.’ That is the most momentous
question that can come to any human soul. I want you all to turn with
me next
Sunday afternoon to the Word of God in order that we may answer that
question
aright.
HAVING
observed last week what are the leading views that have been held
regarding the
cross of Christ, we turn now to the Bible in order to discover which of
these
views is right.
Did Jesus on the cross really take our place, paying the penalty of
God’s law
which justly rested upon us? That is the orthodox or substitutionary
view of
the atonement.
Or did He merely exert a good moral influence upon us by His death,
either by
giving us an exhibition of the love of God or by inspiring us to
sacrifice our
lives for the welfare of others as He sacrificed Himself? That is the
so-called
moral-influence theory of the atonement.
Or did He by His death merely conserve the good discipline of the world
by
showing that, in the interests of the welfare of the greatest number,
God cannot
simply allow His law to be transgressed with complete impunity? That is
the
so-called governmental theory of the atonement.
We shall try to test these three views of the cross of Christ by
comparing them
with what the Bible actually says. But before we do so, there are two
preliminary remarks that we ought to make.
Our first remark is that the three views of the atonement really reduce
themselves to two. Both the moral-influence and the governmental view
of the
atonement really make the work of Christ terminate upon man, rather
than upon
God. They both proceed on the assumption that, in order that man shall
be
forgiven, nothing but man’s repentance is required. They both of them
deny, at
least by implication, that there is such a thing as an eternal
principle of
justice, not based merely upon the interests of the creature but rooted
in the
nature of God — an eternal principle of justice demanding that sin
shall be
punished. They both of them favour the notion that the ethical
attributes of
God may be summed up in the one attribute — benevolence. They both of
them tend
to distort the great Scriptural assertion that ‘God is love’ into the
very
different assertion that God is nothing but love. They both of them
tend to
find the supreme end of the creation in the happiness or well-being of
the
creature. They both of them fail utterly to attain to any high notion
of the
awful holiness of God.
No doubt the governmental theory disguises these tendencies more than
the
moral-influence theory does. It does show some recognition of the moral
chaos
which would result if men got the notion that the law of God could be
transgressed with complete impunity.
But, after all, even the governmental theory denies that there is any
real
underlying necessity for the punishment of sin. Punishment, it holds,
is merely
remedial and deterrent. It is intended merely to prevent future sin,
not to
expiate past sin. So the tragedy on Calvary, according to the advocates
of the
governmental view, was intended by God merely to shock sinners out of
their
complacency; it was intended merely to show what terrible effects sin
has so
that sinners by observing those terrible effects might be led to stop
sinning.
The governmental view, therefore, like the moral-influence view, has at
its centre
the notion that a moral effect exerted upon man was the sole purpose of
the
cross of Christ.
Very different is the substitutionary view. According to that view, not
a mere
moral effect upon man but the satisfaction of the eternal justice of
God was
the primary end for which Christ died. Hence the substitutionary view
of the
atonement stands sharply over against the other two. The other two
belong in
one category; the substitutionary view belongs in an entirely different
category. That is the first remark that we desire to make before we
begin to
consider the Biblical teaching in detail.
That remark, however, would be decidedly misleading unless we went on
to make a
second remark. Our second remark is that the substitutionary view of
the
atonement, though it makes the work of Christ in dying upon the cross
terminate
primarily upon God, yet does at the same time most emphatically make it
terminate also upon man. What a distortion of the substitutionary view
it would
be to say that Christ, when He died, did not die to produce a moral
effect upon
man!
Of course He died to produce a moral effect upon man! If He had not
died, man
would have continued to lead a life of sin; but as it is, those for
whom He
died cease to lead a life of sin and begin to lead a life of holiness.
They do
not lead that life of holiness perfectly in this world, but they will
most
certainly lead it in the world to come, and it was in order that they
might
lead that life of holiness that Christ died for them. No man for whom
Christ
died continues to live in sin as he lived before. All who receive the
benefits
of the cross of Christ turn from sin unto righteousness. In holding
that that
is the case, the substitutionary view of the atonement is quite in
accord with
the moral-influence theory and with the governmental theory.
Well, then, is it correct to say that the moral-influence theory and
the
governmental theory are correct as far as they go and merely differ
from the
substitutionary view in being inadequate or incomplete?
No, I do not think that that is correct at all. You see, the heart and
core of
the moral-influence theory and the governmental theory is found in the
denial
that Christ on the cross took our place and paid the just penalty of
our sins
that we might be right with God. Denying that, the moral-influence
theory and
the exhibit the necessity of some deterrent against sin in the
interests of an
orderly world, or did He die on the cross in order to pay the penalty
of our
sin and make us right with the holy God?
Which of these three views is right? That is the question which we
shall seek
to answer by an examination of the Word of God.
At the beginning of the examination there is one fact which stares us
in the
face. It has sometimes been strangely neglected. It is the fact of the
enormous
emphasis which the Bible lays upon the death of Christ.
Have you ever stopped to consider how strange that emphasis is? In the
case of
other great men, it is the birth that is celebrated and not the death.
Washington’s birthday is celebrated by a grateful American people on
the
twenty-second day of February, but who remembers on what day of the
year it was
that Washington died? Who ever thought of making the day of his death
into a
national holiday?
Well, there are some men whose death might indeed be celebrated by a
national
holiday, but they are not good men like George Washington; they are, on
the
contrary, men whose taking off was a blessing to their people. It would
be a
small compliment to the father of his country if we celebrated with
national
rejoicing the day when he was taken from us. Instead of that, we
celebrate his
birth. Yet in the case of Jesus it is the death and not the birth that
we
chiefly commemorate in the Christian church.
I do not mean that it is wrong for us to commemorate the birth of
Jesus. We
have just celebrated Christmas, and it is right for us so to do. Happy
at this
Christmas season through which we have just passed have been those to
whom it
has not been just a time of worldly festivity but a time of
commemoration of
the coming of our blessed Saviour into this world. Happy have been
those men
and women and little children who have heard, underlying all their
Christmas
joys, and have heard in simple and childlike faith, the sweet story
that is told
us in Matthew and Luke. Happy have been those celebrants of Christmas
to whom
the angels have brought again, in the reading of the Word of God, their
good
tidings of great joy.
Yes, I say, thank God for the Christmas season; thank God for the
softening that
it brings to stony hearts; thank God for the recognition that it brings
for the
little children whom Jesus took into His arms; thank God even for the
strange,
sweet sadness that it brings to us together with its joys, as we think
of the
loved ones who are gone. Yes, it is well that we should celebrate the
Christmas
season; and may God ever give us a childlike heart that we may
celebrate it
aright.
But after all, my friends, it is not Christmas that is the greatest
anniversary
in the Christian church. It is not the birth of Jesus that the church
chiefly
celebrates, but the death.
Did you know that long centuries went by in the history of the church
before
there is any record of the celebration of Christmas? Jesus was born in
the days
of Herod the King — that is, at some time before 4 B.C., when Herod
died. Not
till centuries later do we find evidence that the church celebrated any
anniversary regarded as the anniversary of His birth.
Well, then, if that is so with regard to the commemoration of Jesus’
birth, how
is it with regard to the commemoration of His death? Was the
commemoration of
that also so long postponed? Well, listen to what is said on that
subject by
the Apostle Paul. ‘For as often as ye eat this bread,’ he says, ‘and
drink this
cup, ye do shew the Lord’s death till he come.’ That was written only
about
twenty-five years after the death of Christ and after the founding of
the
church in Jerusalem. Even in those early days the death of Christ was
commemorated by the church in the most solemn service in which it
engaged —
namely, in the celebration of the Lord’s Supper.
Indeed that commemoration of the death of Christ was definitely
provided for by
Jesus Himself. ‘This cup is the New Testament in my blood,’ said Jesus:
‘this
do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance of me.’ In those words of
institution of the Lord’s Supper, Jesus carefully provided that His
church
should commemorate His death.
Thus the Bible makes no definite provision for the commemoration of the
birth
of Jesus, but provides in the most definite and solemn way for the
commemoration of His death.
What is the reason for that contrast, which at first sight might seem
to be
very strange? I think the answer is fairly clear. The birth of Jesus
was
important not in itself but because it made possible His death. Jesus
came into
this world to die, and it is to His death that the sinner turns when He
seeks
salvation for his soul. Truly the familiar hymn is right when it says
about the
cross of Christ:
All the light of sacred story
Gathers round its head sublime.
The whole Bible centres in the story of the death of Christ. The Old
Testament
looks forward to it; the New Testament looks back upon it; and the
truly
Biblical preacher of the gospel says always with Paul: ‘I determined to
know
nothing among you, save Jesus Christ and him crucified.’
I ask you, then, which of the theories of the atonement suits this
supreme
emphasis which the Bible puts upon the cross.
Does the moral-influence theory suit it? I think not, my friends. If
Jesus died
on the cross merely to give us a good example of self-sacrifice or
merely to
exhibit, without underlying necessity, the love of God, then the Bible
does
seem strangely overwrought in the way in which it speaks of the death
of
Christ. Then indeed all the talk in the Bible about the blood of Christ
and the
blood of the sacrificial victims that were prophecies of Him becomes
just about
as distasteful as so many modern men hold it to be. Some very much
greater
significance must be attributed to the death of Christ than a mere
hallowing of
some universal law of self-sacrifice or a mere pedagogic exhibition of
God’s
love, if we are to explain the way in which the Bible makes everything
to
centre in the event that took place on Calvary.
The case is not essentially different when we consider the governmental
theory.
It is true, the governmental theory does seek, as over against the
moral-influence theory, to do justice to the emphasis which the Bible
places
just on the death of Christ. It regards the tragic horror of the cross
not as
merely incidental to the meaning of what Christ did but as essential to
it. It
regards that tragic horror as being the thing that shocks sinners out
of their
complacency and makes them recognise the seriousness of sin. Hence it
seeks to
show why just the death of Christ and not some other exhibition of
self-sacrificing love was necessary.
But, after all, what a short way such considerations go towards
explaining the
Biblical emphasis on the cross of Christ! The truth is that there is
just one
real explanation of such emphasis. It is found in the fact that Christ
on the
cross did something absolutely necessary if we sinners are to be
forgiven by a
righteous God. Once recognise the enormous barrier which sin sets up
between
the offender and his God, once recognise the fact that that barrier is
rooted
not merely in the sinner’s mind but in the eternal justice of God, and
then
once recognise that the cross, as the full payment of the penalty of
sin, has
broken down the barrier and made the sinner right with God — once
recognise
these things and then only will you understand the strange pre-eminence
which
the Bible attributes to the cross of Christ.
Thus even the mere prominence of the death of Christ in the Bible, to
say nothing
of what the Bible says about the death of Christ in detail, is a mighty
argument against all minimising theories of the significance of the
death of
Christ and a mighty argument in favour of the view that Christ on the
cross
really died in our stead, paying the dread penalty of our sin, that He
might
present us, saved by grace, before the throne.
In presenting what the Bible says in detail about the death of Christ,
I want
to speak first of all of those passages where Christ’s death upon the
cross is
represented as a ransom, then about those passages where it is spoken
of as a
sacrifice, then about those passages where, without the use of either
of these
representations, its substitutionary or representative character is
plainly
brought out.
The first passage that we shall speak of, next Sunday afternoon, is
that great
passage in the tenth chapter of the Gospel according to Mark where our
Lord
says that the Son of Man came to give His life a ransom for many.
On this last Sunday of the old year, I just want to say to you who have
been
listening in on these Sunday afternoons how much encouraged I have been
by your
interest and by your Christian fellowship. I trust that you have had a
very
joyous Christmas and I trust that the new year which is so soon to
begin may be
to you a very blessed year under the mercy of God.