St. Gregory Wonderworker (St. Gregory Thaumaturgus) was Bishop of Neo-Caesarea, his native city, in Pontus. He died famous for his missionary labors in 276.
I just performed an interesting thought exercise. Part of Year IV studies here involves taking a thesis writing tutorial class. The Prof. has been pushing us pretty hard to develop some ideas of what we will write about next year. Tomorrow's assignment: turn in a two page proposal in which you lay out the main lines of your thesis. So, (almost) completely off the cuff, here is what I'm thinking to write about:
THE DOCTRINE OF THE ATONEMENT
IN THE THEOLOGY OF JOSEPH RATZINGER
The doctrine of the atonement merits close attention for two reasons, one speculative, the other practical. Firstly, the sacrifice of Christ upon the altar of the Cross is at the very center of Revelation and therefore also of theology, and yet the inner working, so to speak, of the atonement remains open to speculation. Secondly, it has great practical consequences: the doctrine of the atonement stands at the heart of the sacred Liturgy, which shapes to a great degree the faith and therefore also the lives of those who participate in it.
The traditional Catholic theory of the atonement was first formulated by St. Anselm (d. 1109). Its basic lines are these: Christ offers to the Father, in the place of sinful mankind, an infinite satisfaction. The value of his sacrifice more than counter-balances the offense of sin. With the order of justice thus restored, and the Father’s wrath appeased, God is pleased to forgive man his sins. Classical Protestantism retained much of the Catholic understanding of the atonement, but with the mistaken tendency to treat Christ’s sacrifice as a case of penal substitution, i.e., as if Christ’s death were a case of our just punishment being reassigned to him – God’s just anger redirected at him. In the modern era this notion of penal substitution has increasingly crept into Catholic theology, especially in the theology of Hans Urs von Balthasar.
Ratzinger’s theology of the atonement is especially interesting along the same two lines outlined above. In regards to speculation upon the atonement, Ratzinger makes an excellent contribution to the discussion through the example of his hierarchical method, wherein he allows his soteriology to be shaped and guided by Christology, as also through his development of a line of thought taken from Romano Guardini that seeks to understand Christ’s “suffering through” evil as a process of healing mankind’s guilt from within. Secondly, in regards to the practical importance of the doctrine of the atonement, Ratzinger expresses both the importance of the liturgy in shaping the faith and therefore also the lives of the faithful, and the importance of the doctrine of the atonement in shaping one’s approach to the liturgy.
The main lines along which my thesis will develop are these: first, a consideration of the practical importance of the doctrine of the atonement according to the axiom lex orandi, lex credendi, lex vivendi. Second, a discussion of the method employed (rightly) by Ratzinger in interpreting Christ’s sacrifice. His method, in brief, is to respect the hierarchy of truths: he allows his soteriology to be illumined by Christology, which is illumined in turn by the mystery of the Trinity. Third, then, it will be necessary to turn to the basic datum of Christology that Ratzinger applies to his soteriological speculation, i.e., that Christ is the Son of the Father: an obvious statement with great implications for the doctrine of the atonement.
My fourth task will then be to turn to Ratzinger’s theology of the atonement itself: and in this regard he offers a negative critique of “mechanistic” theories of the atonement (here it will be necessary to counter objections put forward by proponents of the penal substitution theory in regards to Christ’s “cup” of suffering, his cry from the Cross, and especially his descent into hell), positing instead that Christ’s death is a great transformation of death into love. It is here that Ratzinger develops his favorite theme of “suffering through” evil and sin, for if Christ’s suffering is not part of some mechanized legal process in which he is punished for our sins, then why the intensity of his suffering? Ratzinger’s answer is that suffering is simply the form that love takes in a broken world; it is a necessary part of the process of healing guilt from within.
Fifthly, I will be to take stock of Ratzinger’s theology of the atonement within the wider field of Catholic tradition: his interpretation of Christ’s death as essentially an act of love (rather than punishment) fits easily into St. Thomas’ doctrine of the fourfold salvific causality of Christ’s Passion (by way of sacrifice, satisfaction, redemption, and merit). His emphasis on love, however, over and against St. Anselm’s emphasis on justice, must in turn be counter-balanced by the latter. In conclusion, I propose to return to the practical importance of the question of the atonement to see what connections can be drawn between Ratzinger’s soteriology and liturgical theology.
Table of Contents
Introduction: The Importance of the Doctrine of the Atonement
Chapter 1: Hierarchical Theology
Chapter 2: Ratzinger’s Christology
Chapter 3: Ratzinger’s Soteriology
Chapter 4: The Balance between Love and Justice
Conclusion: Liturgical Implications
Chapter 1: Hierarchical Theology
Chapter 2: Ratzinger’s Christology
Chapter 3: Ratzinger’s Soteriology
Chapter 4: The Balance between Love and Justice
Conclusion: Liturgical Implications
13 comments:
That's a pretty good summary for something "off the cuff." For my part, I'm in favor of the attonement. (And deeply appreciative of it.)
Well, I have done a fair bit of thinking and reading on the subject, the off the cuff part was trying to put something on paper in an orderly manner.
Go for it!
John-
Sounds like a good idea...glad you're eposting on UNAM, even though you did just copy and paste your whole post from here! Well, anytime, and happy birthday!
Boniface
Dear John,
This sounds like an exciting project! Send me a copy when you are done.
A question, though, if I may: Do you think, however, that the mechanistic theories of the atonement might have some legitimacy? I'm not suggesting that they have the whole story, but, just off the top of my head as I read your post, I wonder if mechanistic symbols can help us understand some of what is going on here. I think of grace and merit, which are often described in terms of mechanistic symbols, such as "getting grace" for saying certain prayers, doing certain actions, etc. The mechanism isn't the whole story, but it still seems to be a legitimate symbol which calls us to penetrate deeper to what is fully going on. Likewise, it reminded me of the mechanistic theories of the world which are popular with empiricists; describing the world in terms of billiard-ball style causation certainly isn't the whole story (as we Aristotelians know) but it still is part of the story and an invitation to go deeper. I just wondered if maybe there is something more to the mechanistic theory of penal substitution; maybe it is a somewhat legitimate symbol that could be used to penetrate to deeper levels?
I don't know what you could make of all that; it's just my rambling in the moment. I have a desire to reconcile seemingly conflicting theories, but maybe it can't or shouldn't be done here. If you want, let me know what you think. I hope that you and Lisa and Maria and the baby are well. God bless,
Mark
Dear WOC,
I agree wholeheartedly that there is much good to be salvaged from "mechanistic" theories of the atonement, if by this is meant theories which focus on justice in legal terms. Part of my intention is to point that Ratzinger leaves some of this out where it is useful to leave it in.
As regards penal substitution, though, I firmly believe this theory to be essentially (and grievously) flawed.
No matter how nice it sounds in a devotional booklet, the idea that the Father ever could have actually dumped our punishment upon His Son should be anathema. It flies in the face of all the most important conclusions of Trinitarian theology and Christology.
Maybe I am missing your point, though. Do you have something particular in mind that you think worth salvaging from such a theory?
Pax,
John
Oh, and Boniface,
I put another one up today that is not merely a cut and paste job. Enjoy! And sorry about the prolonged absence. Give our greetings to Boniface Jr.
John,
I agree with you that much good is to be salvaged from the legal justice symbols for the Atonement. I also agree that many of the images used by the extreme versions of the penal substitution theory involving God's wrath being heaped upon His Son are ridiculous and reprehensible. At the same time, there seems to be some sort of penal substitution going on in the Anselmian account: we owed a debt to God that we could never pay and God became man so that this infinite debt could be paid by a member of the human species, the ones that owed the debt. It seems that in some sense Christ is accepting our debt, which is in a sense a punishment; He makes reparation on our behalf. It seems to me that here the symbol of penal substitution has some (limited) merit. But I think that this is what you are getting at with regard to using the legal justice symbols to improve upon some of what Ratzinger says.
Also, another point, if I may: the Incarnation and subsequent Descent of the Holy Spirit, it seems, is the expression in the created fallen world of the eternal processions of the Persons of the Trinity. Thus, in a sense, the Crucifixion is an expression in visible form of the total self-emptying of the Son into the Father which eternally occurs (as you say here following Ratzinger, it is the form that love takes in a broken world). Now it seems that we could say (and I am not fully committed to this position, and I know that it is in edgy Balthasarian language) that Christ's complete self-emptying as expressed and experienced in this fallen world involves, so to speak, a "moment of Godlessness" wherein He experiences the loneliness and separation from God of Hell, and thereby suffers through the entirety of the human predicament, conquering it and healing it from within. This, it seems to me, would involve something of the penal substitution symbol--not that God heaps wrath upon Him in some vindictive sense, but in that God wished to be so much in solidarity with the human race that He willed to share our every suffering, though He was without sin; He took this just punishment upon Himself that even that separation from God might be healed and redeemed from within.
Perhaps this is going a bit far? It has a certain appeal to me, and, as of course this is all symbolic and analogous speech, perhaps it has some merit or some truth is contained therein. I appreciate discussing this very important issue with you--the more I learn in philosophy and theology, the less I seem to know what my precise position is on deep issues, so it is nice to be able to discuss. Thank you,
Mark
Mark,
Glad to discuss it. My first thought is to distinguish rather more sharply than you did between St. Anselm's satisfaction theory and the classicly Protestant penal substitution theory. Both speak in legal terms, but the difference, I think, is fundamental.
An example: let's say that I kick you in the shins (my favorite recurring example). The order of justice has been violated (assuming that you aren't a heretic, of course).
There are two basic ways in which equity may be restored. You may decide to kick me right back, or you may require me to, say, wash your car. In either case justice is restored, but with a huge difference: in the latter case there is forgiveness. There is also something penal in it, if you like, in that the reparation should normally entail something difficult.
Applied to God and man it goes something like this. God could have done either of two things (or more if you like - no reason to limit the divine creativity): He could have damned everyone. Justice would be restored. End of story. Or he could be willing to accept something from us of sufficient value to offset the offense, and thus refrain from punishing us while still maintaining justice. In this way He is completely just and merciful.
Now, as I said, something penal remains in that the satisfaction offered as a counter-balance to sin implies something arduous. But it remains fundamentally a gift offered by the offender to the offended, not the retaliation of the offended upon the offender.
Also, there are a number of enormous flaws in the idea that God punished Christ with the punishment with which we deserved to be punished so that we would not have to be thus punished.
1) If God condemns an innocent man to die in place of the guilty, what becomes of his justice?
2) If he does go ahead and vent the full weight of his wrath, what has become of his forgiveness?
3) The punishment of sin is eternal damnation. Full stop. No matter how much one talks about Christ's experience of separation from God, He's in heaven now.
4) Positing a real separation between Christ and God necessarily entails either a denial of the Trinity or of the Hypostatic Union. If He only experience separation from God, but wasn't really separated, then I admit I don't know what that means.
5) If Christ has already been punished for our sins, then surely we should, as Luther said, sin boldly, for it would certainly be unjust for God to punish the same sin twice. This leads swiftly into either universalism (something von Balthasar at least flirted with) - if Christ died for all men, or into Calvinist predestination - if Christ died only for the elect (they, of course, would still wonder what is supposed to discourage them from sinning).
Finally, in regards to the analogy between the Trinitarian processions and the missions of the Divine Persons: I do not think that the eternal love of the Son for the Father includes the emptying of the Father's presence from himself. I'm not even sure what "emptying" could mean within the Trinitarian processions. If the relationship between Father and Son within the Trinity is mirrored for us on the Cross, then the very opposite of what von Balthasar asserts must be true. It is not a moment of separation, but of closest union. According to John's Gospel it is the very moment in which the Son glorifies the Father and the Father glorifies the Son. Ratzinger even makes use precisely of the cry "O God my God why hast Thou forsaken me?" to argue for the closest possible unity in that moment; for, in the very moment when God seems to have abandoned Jesus, we find Jesus praying. Praying, in fact, a Psalm which speaks about the fact that He has been abandoned to his enemies (the Fathers interpretation: the Father "abandoned" the Son in not sending legions of angels), crucified, and yet trusts in God. In fact, the Psalm continues: "He has not despised or abhorred... and He has not hid His face from Him, but has heard, when He cried to Him...
Alright, I'm off to bed. That was all very hasty, and cut and paste from previous writings, etc. so I'm sure it's full of holes. Please feel free to pick them out and tell me why I'm wrong. I too, am far from having a settled view.
Many thanks for the opportunity to discuss.
Pax,
John
John, your thesis is very interesting, to say the least. The ensuing discussion is fascinating - keep it going! I do not have any theological or philosophical back ground...but may I throw in?
What does Isaiah mean when he writes, "All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all." (chapter 53:6)
I seem to remember a previous paper or maybe just discussion on the subject of the suffering servant as related to the atonement. I agree, however, that the suffering must originate in love rather than in punishment.
Thanks ahead of time for letting me jump in where I probably don't have much standing!
See you in 52 days!
Such modesty, Mom! We all know that you know a thing or two about the Faith :-)
You are absolutely right to point to Isaiah 52-53 in regards to the Atonement. And, I'll even admit, that an initial reading of the verse you mention does seem to support the penal substitution theory.
One of Ratzinger's chief contributions to the discussion on the atonement, however, is in regards to his method of interpretation, which is "hierarchical".
The Catechism states: "In Catholic doctrine there exists an order or hierarchy of truths" (90).
"The mystery of the Most Holy Trinity is the central mystery of Christian faith and life. It is the mystery of God in himself. It is therefore the source of all the other mysteries of faith, the light that enlightens them." (234)
So, when I say that Ratzinger interprets "hierarchically" I mean that he starts by taking into account the doctrine of the Trinity, then the doctrine of Christ's two natures united in one person, and only then attempts to understand the atonement, taking care to do so not only in a way that does not contradict Trinitarian and Christological dogmas (as penal substitution does), but even allows his understanding of the atonement to be primarily shaped by the Trinity and the person and natures of Christ.
So, finally, Isaiah. We have to rule out, from the beginnning, an interpretation that contradicts other articles of faith. So, what else could it mean other than God punished him in our stead?
It says, note, that God laid upon him the iniquity of us all, not that he laid upon him the punishment of us all. Ratzinger takes this up and asks, what does it mean to carry sin as a burden? One could understand "burden" as punishment, or one could understand the sinner's "burden" as his responsibility of making reparation - his obligation to repare and make up for what he has done. This he cannot do; this Christ does for him: He makes up for our great (but finite) badness with his infinite goodness.
Dinner time! The harder verse from Isaiah for me is actually where it says that upon him is the "disciplina pacis" (the discipline of our peace).
Lots of love from all of us!
Pax,
John
Dear John,
After having read your response here and some of the relevant passages in St. Anslem’s Cur Deus Homo and St. Thomas (S.Th. I-II, q.46-48, 87; II-II, q.108; III, q. 46-49, 52) I am more inclined to your position than I was previously. However, I think there are some distinctions that have to be made, and I think you make some of your disjunctions a little too exclusive. I will try to spell out what I mean, and respond to your points.
First, regarding the thought experiment that you present. It seems like forgiveness could be involved in either option or not; the disjunction is not that sharp. If you wrong me grievously by kicking my shins, it seems that justice demands that both I am revenged on you and you pay reparation to me. Now maybe both are accomplished by you washing my car (it needs it) but maybe not. Every evil requires vengeance or punishment, which is penal. But as I say, your one act of washing my car may make reparation and as you say, still involve that penal aspect.
In the case of the relationship between God and man, it seems that sin, at least original sin, merits the eternal punishment of damnation. Yet God accepts the sacrifice of Christ as satisfaction for our sins: those who become members of Christ, that is, who participate in Him and in His Passion through Baptism, no longer have to undergo this punishment. They do have to undergo the punishment of purgative suffering, however. Now it is clear that Christ does not undergo eternal damnation (your point 3). So somehow Christ’s sacrifice is sufficient for His members not having to undergo the punishment that they justly deserve for sin.
Here is what I would accept about the situation from what you have said: Christ freely offers Himself to the Father. He does this in obedience to the Father. In doing so, He takes upon Himself the deepest level of human suffering. He does this so as to offer perfect worship to the Father, to reveal the glory of the self-donative love of the Trinity in a fallen world, to give us a perfect model of charity. He also does this so as to repay the debt which we owe to the Father, but not just repay it but overpay it, so to speak, that He might have an abundance of grace to pour out upon us. He furthermore does this so as to reveal His love for us, to be in total solidarity with us in our every suffering, even to the point of descending into death and hell. St. Thomas argues that Christ descends into hell to shame the damned, but I think that there is something to what Balthasar says: He goes into hell so that even there His compassion has been manifested, so that no one can say that God was not there for him.
So Christ repays our debt freely as a gift—on this we can agree. But this can lead to some problematic results. Our debt involves the punishment of suffering, death, and hell, and Christ takes these on Himself (though not so as to go to hell eternally). Christ is innocent, yet the Father commands Him to suffer and He obeys—is this just of God to do (your point 1)? Christ is not fallen—so how can He pay our debt? How would it be just? For it is not qua human but qua fallen that we need to pay a debt in the first place. And the Fathers pointed out that “that which is not assumed is not redeemed” and Christ did not assume our fallenness. This seems to be an objection to the whole legal justice model that has to be met.
Regarding point 2, it seems that one can vent one’s anger and still forgive; the two are not incompatible. When I die, presuming I am not in a state of mortal sin, I will go to purgatory where God will so to speak vent his anger on me, that is, punish me for my sins, but the punishment which I undergo already presupposes that He has forgiven me, but sin requires punishment in justice, that I might be pure to enter His presence.
But it seems that some of what I owed for my sins has already been paid off by Christ. It seems that there is something penal in the satisfaction Christ pays. I’m not sure that we are disagreeing here. I agree that a view that would have the Father somehow ‘taking it out’ on Christ for His anger with us is a ridiculous and anthropomorphic view of God. But still it seems that Christ willingly and obediently takes upon Himself some aspect of our punishment in making satisfaction, because I don’t have to go to hell anymore; yet the same sin might merit different punishments in different senses; thus Christ has paid my eternal debt but there is still temporal punishment due me for my sins. The fact that He has undergone this punishment need not lead to universalism or Calvinism (your point 5), since first we must willingly participate in Christ to receive the effects of His Passion, and second we must persevere in this participation lest we lose these effects through mortal sin.
Regarding Christ’s alienation from God, I think this is to be understood on an experiential or phenomenological level, not on the level of the actual principles involved. So there is no divide in the Trinity. Rather, Christ willingly takes on all of our sufferings, including the experience of alienation from God. This does not preclude that He is actually close to God at the moment of his cry on the Cross. But we could tell the story this way: in the immanent Trinity, the love of the Father for the Son and the Son for the Father involves the total self-donation of each to the other and thus their union. But when the Son becomes man in a fallen world, this total self-donation is experienced in terms of all the uncertainties and divisions that come with our fallen world. Coupled with His choice to experience all of our sufferings, this means that the Son, in pouring Himself out to the Father on behalf of humanity reveals the glory of the Trinity (that is, the self-donative, self-emptying love of the Godhead) but this is experienced, in virtue of His humanity, in terms of uncertainty and loneliness. Thus it seems to me that both Balthasar and Ratzinger could be correct to a certain degree. It seems to me that we must take seriously the fact that our experience of alienation from God is the deepest source of suffering, and thus a ‘place’ that Christ must go if He is really to be ‘God With Us’; we must also take seriously the fact that the Son and the Father are one. An objection that you could make is that Christ is not fallen and so has no way of having this experience, but I think that this lodges you in the same difficulty I raised earlier about the justice model to begin with. Part of the merit that Christ earns is that He suffers through this alienation, which is indeed arduous for Him on an experiential level in virtue of His humanity, still trusting in the Father. By taking this on Himself He both fully allows humanity to be assimilated to Himself and offers the perfect and total sacrifice of Himself in a fallen world as a man, and thus reveals to us the sacrifice of Himself which He eternally makes to the Father in His self-donative love in the immanent Trinity.
There’s a lot more that I could say, but I think there are a lot of objections that could be raised to what I have said thus far. I will leave it there. Thanks for raising these questions; I am learning a lot and remembering a lot that I have not thought about in some time. And this is a welcome diversion from my own paper writing (although that is almost done, so don’t think that I am being prodigal). God bless,
Mark
One more thing: it seems to me that the hierarchical notion of truth is a good one, but the Trinity is, to say the least, difficult to understand. All of our understanding is in the form of analogies and metaphors. Thus it seems that it is possible that different models of the Trinity can be correct and thus perhaps different models of the Redemption. It seems to me that there are various paradoxes or aporias involved here, as I mentioned in the above post, and involving various Bible quotes. I'm not sure that there is a "one size fits all" interpretation of them, and it seems that we need to respect these difficulties and not just try to explain them away.
I hope I'm not saying too much. You've gotten me rather excited and concerned about this topic.
Mark
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