
I've been reading Julian of Norwich's
"Revelations of Divine Love". Julian was a mystic who lived ca. 1342-1413 and in deathly sickness dictated several visions she had of Christ's love and suffering. Her writings are so rich on so many levels, I am sure I will come back to them again and again. This was my favorite reading since the
Didache (which I think should be canonized). I immediately connected with Julian's heart, and recognized in her my own experiences with God. I find it pretty amazing that although centuries separate us, I can see in her my own experiences and longings. Since Julian's writings are of a very intimate and personal nature, I wanted to respond to them here both personally and devotionally.
The text begins with her longing for God, and pursuit of intimacy. Echoing Augustine's
"Our hearts are restless till they rest in thee," she writes,
"No soul is rested till it is made nought as to all things that are made" (Ch 5). Reading this made me recall a vision I had several years ago:
I stood on a vast expanse and heard God declare,
"This is the foundation your life is built on."Suddenly the ground split at my feet and I found myself standing at the edge of a cliff staring into the abyss.
"That was the part of your life based on your own religion and philosophy." the voice thundered. The ground split again hurdling another portion of the ground into the nothingness
"This was built on your friends and family."Blow by blow, my foundation was demolished until I found myself teetering on a narrow beam,
"This is the part of your life your have built on me." This vision of my foundation "coming to naught" launched me into what I later found was called "the dark night of the soul" where God seems utterly absent and by facing ones own darkness, you come into a deeper intimacy with God. I think in her sickness and visions of Christ's sufferings Julian was on a similar journey. She recognizes that our suffering is not always the consequence of us doing something wrong, but can even come from doing something right.
"God willeth that we know that He keepeth us even alike secure in woe and in weal. And for profit of man’s soul, a man is sometime left to himself; although sin is not always the cause" (Ch 40).
God does not leave us in our darkness. I was always taught to fear missing God's will. But like Julian I have learned that I cannot escape God's love. It will find me in my darkness, it will search me out in Hell. This understanding of God's sovereign unrelenting love gives me an incredible freedom to risk. That's a rocky journey at times, and Julian describes the back and forth of this pursuit "I saw Him, and sought Him; and I had Him, I wanted Him" (Ch 10). again echoing Augustine's “ I tasted, and I hunger and thirst. You touched me, and I burned for your peace”. Yet even as we thirst for God, God also thirsts for us; as we pursue, we are at the same time pursued,
"The same desire and thirst that He had upon the Cross.. the same hath He yet... For as verily as there is a property in God of ruth and pity, so verily there is a property in God of thirst and longing" (Ch 31).
As she grows closer to Jesus, she next begins to share in his pain "How might any pain be more to me than to see Him that is all my life, all my bliss, and all my joy, suffer?" (Ch 17), and out of that com-passion that she begins to care for the things that Jesus does, taking on his heart for the lost. Julian thus begins to ask questions of suffering and injustice. Why do people suffer? What of those who in their grief are torn from faith, and are crushed in hope?
"There be deeds evil done in our sight, and so great harms taken, that it seemeth to us that it were impossible that ever it should come to good end. And upon this we look, sorrowing and mourning therefor, so that we cannot resign us unto the blissful beholding of God as we should do" (Ch 32).
She next turns to ask how there can ever be justice when people are suffering in Hell?
"One point of our Faith is that many creatures shall be... condemned to hell without end, as Holy Church teacheth me to believe. And all this standing, methought it was impossible that all manner of things should be well" (Ch 32).
I found myself in my pursuit of God led to these same questions of suffering, injustice and Hell. On one occasion I told Jesus that I did not want to be in heaven when people I love were suffering in Hell. I saw myself marching defiantly out of heaven and down into Hades, but to my surprise when I got there I saw Christ on his knees, ministering to those in chains. He turned to me and said
"I was wondering when you were going to get here." I realized then that in even in my protest, God had not so much followed me into my sufferings, as I followed him into his. Julian writes,
"Every man’s sorrow and desolation He saw, and sorrowed for Kindness and love...For as long as He was passible He suffered for us and sorrowed for us; and now He is uprisen and no more passible, yet He suffereth with us" (Ch 20).
The answer she receives from God to these questions of suffering is a theme repeated throughout the revelations
"All shall be made well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well". (Chapters 27, 31, 32, 34, 63, 63, and 68).
She cannot explain how, and even says that it seems impossible, God simply tells her to trust, because He can do the impossible. What she does know is that we are to join Christ in his passion here which manifests itself in com-passion.
"Thus was our Lord Jesus made-naught for us; and all we stand in this manner made-naught with Him" (Ch18).
This is not a glorification of suffering, but the cost of love. Julia describes the beautiful way that Christ expresses his love for us in his cross. Jesus says to Julian that he would have suffered for her again and again if it had been needful, so great is his love for us.
"It is a joy and bliss and endless pleasing to me that ever I suffered Passion for thee. And this is the bliss of Christ’s works, and thus he signifieth where He saith in that same Shewing: we be His bliss, we be His meed, we be His worship, we be His crown" (Ch 31).
We are not called to a holiness of separation, but a holiness of entering into the ugliness and brokenness of the world,
"When we give our intent to love and meekness, by the working of mercy and grace we are made all fair and clean..." (Ch 40).
This is how we are sanctified, through the cross. Jesus shows us a way to combat evil, through the way of overcoming it with good. The law of mercy triumphs over the law of sin and death, the law of an eye for an eye.
"...For Christ Himself is the ground of all the laws of Christian men, and He taught us to do good against ill..." (Ch 40).
This is not the command of a distant God in heaven, but the call of the one who came to serve and gave his life, and bids us to come and join him in his compassion, to take up our cross and follow.
"...Here may we see that He is Himself this charity, and doeth to us as He teacheth us to do. For He willeth that we be like Him in wholeness of endless love to ourself and to our even-Christians" (Ch 40).
The end goal of this is not suffering, but to end suffering. All will be made well, and all matter of things will be made well.
Labels: compassion, Julian of Norwich, justice, suffering
Craig writes: "What Anselm rejected in the Ransom theory was the idea that God had to make a bargain with the devil, and that He essentially tricked the devil into releasing human souls"
This criticism was not a new idea with Anselm. The Church Fathers had argued extensively about the best way to formulate this, and had made similar criticisms themselves. What is of monumental significance is that with Anselm, a major shift occurred where salvation was no longer understood in the deep terms of humanity being enslaved to sin and our need to be liberated from that bondage, but instead viewed sin in the legal terms of transgression, understanding salvation as paying a penalty to “satisfy” the demands of law. When the central understanding of atonement shifted from ransom from slavery to satisfaction of justice, the paradigm for sin shifted with it from the relational idea of bondage (who we belong to) to the legal idea of transgression (what we do).
With that, the deep reaching impact of the Christus Victor soterology was last and "Christus Victor" became in the minds of many Evangelicals today an insignificant appendix (for example with both John Stott and Derek Tidball). It is this "tacking on" of Christus Victor that I find problematic. I think it actually has some really profound implications that need to be explored. Two people who have pioneered this in different areas are Jürgen Moltmann and Walter Wink.
David writes:
"As Craig rightly asserts, CV doesn't really have a vigorous understanding of a personified Satan"
This statement surprised me. I would disagree and say that CV is in fact rooted in a deep understanding of the devil, and that PS is lacking in it. One can completely leave the devil out of the formulation of Penal Substitution. Christus Victor on the other hand is rooted in the idea of Christ overcoming "sin, death, and the devil". It expands the idea of sin beyond "transgression" to "bondage" showing the deep reaching consequences of evil in the human heart. CV is essentially about a change of identity from bondage to adoption, the theme of "redemption from slavery". The devil is crucial to this understanding.
What Gustav Aulen has removed from the ransom theory is not the devil, but its heavy legal focus and replaced it with a dramatic focus. Quite a number of major Evangelical theologians including JI Packer and James Denney have sharply criticized the legal focus in PS as well, and Packer has suggested that PS should also be seen (following Aulen) with a dramatic rather than legal focus (which he Packer sharply criticizes).
So what is so bad about a legal focus? I am not really arguing that it is "cold". I think one can me emotional and cold as well. In fact as an aside, I find Jonathan Edwards a pretty bad example of positive emotion since he was pretty nasty. I would instead suggest Spurgeon who was a PS advocating Calvinist with a huge heart for the lost. He is an excellent example of "positive emotion". The problem I have with a legal theory of the cross is twofold (there are other reasons, but I will limit myself for brevity sake):
1) A legal focus does not express the focus of Scripture which is clearly on the supremacy of love (Love is the "greatest commandment", the "sum of the law and the profits", if I "have not love I am nothing", "God is love", etc) over the law which the NT (both Jesus and Paul) are quite critical of. Biblically focus of the Atonement needs to be relational not legal. It was an expression of God's amazing love for us.
2) A legal focus trivializes sin. Sin is not simply an infraction, it is a cancer. It is bondage. It is about identity (who we belong to and who we are). It is a deep rooted problem that needs to be deeply addressed. Punishment does not heal the wounds of the sinner nor those who have been sinned against. It is superficial. What people need is a profound inner transformation, a change in identity, healing for their cancer. These are all aspects of God's work that a legal theory simply cannot capture.
So why don't we then have, as Packer suggests, a dramatic relational understanding of PS? Good idea. This is I think how most Evangelicals understand the cross: they see the great cost, they are humbled that this was "for them", they are moved by dramatic depictions like the movie "The Passion". The problem here is that while we can and should have a dramatic understanding of substitutionary atonement and vicarious sacrifice (as Luther did) there is a fundamental flaw specifically in PS's explanation of that vicarious sacrifice:
The idea of "satisfaction" does not mean "to gratify" as it does in English today but "to make restitution". With Anselm the idea of satisfaction/restitution was a way to avoid punishment. We make restitution and thus avoid punishment (pay the fine avoid a whipping). Specifically with the cross, Jesus make restitution by restoring God's honor (by giving his life so nobly for us Jesus gave God extra honor beyond what was due God in the sinless life of Jesus making up for the honor God had lost because of our dishonoring sin). Since restitution/satisfaction had been made there was no reason for the punishment. Now of course this whole system of honor is an artificial man-made concept of feudal times, but within Anselm's framework it does all make sense. I think there is in fact (if we could pull it out of its feudal legal framework a bit) some deep things about Anselm's theory. PT Forsyth does a good job of exploring this.
With Thomas Aquinas the idea of satisfaction/restitution changed. Unlike Anselm who said one made restitution to avoid punishment (pay the fine or go to jail) Aquinas said that it was the punishment that made the restitution (By seeing someone hurt you felt better). On a carnal level we can see how making someone hurt who hurt us would be "satisfying" (that is, gratifying). Its the basic desire for revenge, for payback. Whether it "makes things right" (restitution) is debatable. But there's another level here: What if instead of whipping and executing the guilty man we instead take someone who is innocent and good and beat and execute them instead and then let the guilty one go free? Does that sound like a fulfillment of justice? No, it sounds terrible. This is the elephant in the room of PS, it is as a (legal) theory profoundly unjust.
Compare that with the idea of someone giving their life for another, a firefighter who dies rescuing others from the flames, a body guard who takes a bullet for someone. this is heroic and deeply moving. We often see in movies the hero say to the terrorists who are going to kill someone (usually female) "No take me!". I think anyone with kids who are sick and suffering can relate to the wish that we could suffer instead of them. "I'd give anything to take their place" we say. But what is the theme here? It is Christus Victor. The bullet, the burning building, the ravaging disease, the terrorists, are not pictures of "justice being satisfied" they are bad things. Pictures of the Accuser, of Satan.
In short the vicarious sacrifice "in our place" is a moving and dramatic idea that is all over the NT. But explaining it in legal terms gives completely the wrong impression because in a legal sense it would be profoundly unjust. Understood in a relational sense however, as a ransom, as a redemption, it makes perfect sense.
Craig writes:
"Derek, I don't understand how you can reject the category of law, but still wish to uphold the concept of justice. Law is justice implemented and applied."
I would differentiate between human laws which are an outwardly imposed artificial human construct, and God's moral law which is simply the way the universe works. Sin is not punished by some extra action of God, sin "leads to death" just like hitting the ground is the consequence of gravity. God "gives us over to wrath" Paul says. God's moral laws are written into the fabric of who we are. Their consequences are inevitable flowing from the nature of how life works, again like gravity. Biblically this is not "justice", it is wrath, the curse, death. "Justice" biblically speaking is about "making things right". This was Luther's major discovery. Justice was not about consequence for sin as the Scholastics taught, it was about God making thing right.
Michael writes,
"The problem I can see with Derek's Christus Victor scheme is dualism... which is to say: God is not in any sense here the agent of our judgment/punishment."
I don't see this to be the case. I wonder if you have read the entire article on my website rather than merely the posts here? Biblically we have all three expressions:
1)God being the one who brings judgment,
2) judgment coming as a process ("the wrath" and "the curse" in Paul) and
3) judgment being executed by the devil.
So there is a pretty complex picture in Scripture. In Christus Victor the image is of the devil as the "accuser" (which is what "Satan" means) but it is also understood that he has "rights" because we have indeed sinned. This picture is not of God and Satan as co-equal (dualism) but of Satan as a fallen angel.
That means that the law for example is made to be good, made to point to God (not to be equal with God) but can through sin become something that instead leads to death (fallen). So God who desires life seeks a way to redeem both fallen humanity as well as to redeem the fallen law through grace. It is a more complex view than PS to incorporate the idea of fallenness and the devil, but I think it is also truer to both the complexity of the Biblical witness and to life. I go into all this in more detail in part 4 of my essay.
You are correct that ultimately God is the author of wrath (and of gravity). Gustav Aulen calls this the "double-sidedness" of the Atonement: God saves us from his own wrath. The Divine Love overcomes the Divine Wrath.