I just finished Stephen Finlan’s book Problems with Atonement, a radical critique of traditional accounts of how the cross of Jesus saves us. I mean “radical” in the strict sense; Finlan, rather than trying to provide an atonement theory acceptable to moderns (or postmoderns), seeks to pull it up by the roots.
In Finlan’s account, the basic problem with almost all versions of atonement theory is that they picture salvation as a transaction wherein God needs to be bought off, or satisfied, before he can forgive sins and save people. But this, according to Finlan, is not only morally troubling but seems inconsistent with the kind of God preached by Jesus who freely forgives those who repent and wants to give all good things to his children.
The book includes two very informative chapters reviewing the rituals of sacrifice and atonement in the OT (helpfully distinguishing between sacrifice and scapegoat-type rituals) and discussing the atonement metaphors used by Paul. One problem with the history of atonement doctrines, according to Finlan, is that Paul heaps a number of different metaphors on top of one another in order to express something of the mystery of salvation (legal, penal, sacrificial, cultic, etc.), but later theologians have frequently taken one or more of these metaphors and used it as a literal account of how we are saved.
But Paul himself is not off the hook either. In Finlan’s view, Paul was not entirely consistent in talking about salvation. On the one hand, he says that salvation comes from God’s love and generosity; God love us, even though we’re sinners, and wants to reconcile us to himself. On the other hand, many of Paul’s atonement metaphors imply that the Father needs to be persuaded to be merciful to us and that Jesus’ death on the cross is the means of that persuasion. So it’s understandable that later theologians got mixed signals from Paul and constructed theories about a wrathful God being appeased by the innocent blood of his Son.
Fortunately, Finlan says, atonement can be jettisoned without losing anything essential to Christianity. Atonement is what he calls a “secondary doctrine,” while the primary and distinguishing doctrine of Christianity is incarnation. Finlan favors the Eastern and patristic notion of theosis as a better account of how God saves us through the incarnation of his Son. By becoming human, God enables us to participate in the divine life. Or, in Athanasius’ immortal formulation, “the Son of God became man so that we might become God.”
Promising as this sounds, Finlan unfortunately doesn’t spend much time spelling out how this is supposed to work. Some formulations of theosis seem to rely on the idea of a substantial human nature (in the manner of a Platonic form) which is “repaired” by the Incarnation. But this is surely a problematic notion for a variety of reasons. Are we then to think of theosis as imitation with Christ as our exemplar? This may be easier to comprehend, but doesn’t seem to do full justice to the unity and participation in Christ that Christians are said to enjoy. It seems a fuller account of our participation in Christ is needed to make sense of any idea of theosis. (Maybe pneumatology and a doctrine of the sacraments could help here?)
That said, this is a stimulating book. I like how Finlan cuts to the heart of what he sees as the problem – a transactional idea of salvation, which does, at least as frequently understood, seem to conflict with the idea of a God of abundant grace. And Finlan’s emphasis on theosis is a salutary reminder that salvation involves a change in us, freeing us from the power of sin, not just its consequences, as in some penal theories. Some readers may feel that some figures are rather cursorily dealt with (the chapters on the OT and Paul are outstanding, but the coverage of atonement theory after Paul doesn’t engage with figures like Anselm as much as some might like), but Finlan’s targeting of transactionalism and blood sacrifice is not simply a straw man argument.
Well worth reading.

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