It was the means of agonizing humiliation and execution and has adorned the banners of armies through which some of the most brutal violence was perpetrated in history. It is a symbol worn by the faithful and sometimes the fashionable. It has famously been described as a stumbling block and foolishness. The cross is central to the Christian faith — but what does it mean? And how could this symbol of weakness also be a source of strength for followers of Christ?
As Christians ponder the mystery and meaning of the cross and Christ’s resurrection in this Easter season, I read Tony Jones’ new book, Did God Kill Jesus? which explores and analyzes various atonement theories through history and culture and considers whether the most famous — penal substitutionary atonement — is really the most accurate. Although Tony and I do not necessarily share the same views, I realized that our perspectives are not as far off as I had thought. I recently had the opportunity to interview him about the book and how his study and meditation of the cross has shaped his understanding of the crucifixion and what that can mean for the faithful.
(This interview has been edited for length and clarity.)
JV: You touch a bit on this in the book (but for those who might not read it), what do you believe are the theological and social implications of holding to a belief in penal substitutionary atonement? Could you elaborate on what you think those implications are? And do you think there can be anything redemptive or beautiful in Christians holding to a substitutionary atonement theory of the crucifixion?
TJ: To the second question — yes, of course. I think that what I call the “Payment View”— like all the views of the atonement — definitely has potential to bring out a beautiful Christianity. But I would say in all honesty that I think that the “Payment View” is fighting an uphill battle on that front for two reasons. One because of its view of God, which is that God has to pour out his wrath upon sinners. Two, [because of] its anthropology or view of humanity, which says that humanity is irreparably depraved and incapable of doing any good work. And I find neither of those to be scripturally justified, nor particularly hopeful. So I’m not particularly sanguine about the Payment theory, but I would never say that just because I don’t find it compelling that it doesn’t have potential to bring out a beautiful version of the Christian faith for people.
JV: So you talk a lot not only about atonement, but reconciliation and ways for God to be reconciled to humanity beyond paying a penalty or a judgment. Could you elaborate on that reconciliation?
TJ: A key Bible verse for any of us trying to figure this whole thing out is when Paul writes that God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself. So we’ve got two parties in need of reconciliation: God and humanity. Paul is absolutely convinced that Jesus is the key to that reconciliation and more specifically that Jesus’ death is the key to that reconciliation.
Then look at all these ways that the crucifixion has been understood. In every one of them, it’s about bringing God and humanity together. The question for each is “why were God and humanity apart to begin with?” How does it account for the separation, and how does it bring the two parties into reconciliation? And that’s where the Payment model says the one party (humanity) owes the other party (God) a payment they can’t afford, so somebody pays it our place.
But another theory says God has plans that we would all experience divinity and immortality. When Jesus came, he bridged the divide between divinity and humanity and re-sparked the divinity in humanity. That’s the Divinity model from the Eastern Orthodoxy. I also write about the feminist views of the atonement and James Cone’s very powerful comparison between the cross and a lynching tree. This is one of the great things about thinking theologically through Jesus’ crucifixion — it’s so rich and there’s so much there. It’s almost like you could keep dipping into that well and coming out with more great living water to drink.
JV: One of the things that I was particularly interested in — and I think a lot of people would be interested in — is looking at the violence of the cross in terms of redemption. In chapter 20, "How the Crucifixion Changed God's Relationship with Us," you write about God taking both the role of victim and victimizer — or at least allowing oppression — in the crucifixion. It is very easy to consider how Christ was a victim of abuse, violence, or oppression and see how that could be redemptive, but can you share more about how through the cross Christ also redeems perpetrators of violence?
TJ: The most important thing — what is key to my own understanding of the crucifixion — is that God died in solidarity with those who suffer. … God really experiences the full gamut of the human experience, including being left to die on a cross without a God to save you. …To take the next step is particularly tricky for me of course to say as a cis-gendered, straight white man: that Jesus’ death is also redemptive for the oppressor as well as the oppressed.
But here’s how I can say that. Every one of us experiences suffering … Because the oppressor him or herself is also someone who experiences loneliness and the absence of God, really the anguish of the human experience. On the cross, Jesus even verbalized that in saying, “Father forgive them, they know not what they do.” This is one of the most potent statements theologically that could possibly be made, particularly from the cross. Because in it Jesus is showing solidarity with those who hung him on a cross… it’s so unexpected.
Look, if the gospel is only good news for those who are oppressed and not also good news for the oppressors, that’s not good news.
JV: What inspired you to write this book?
TJ: I think that the cross stands at the very center of Christianity. It is the unavoidable, inescapable center of the Christian faith. It’s in some ways a theological mystery to be solved, and I wanted to take a shot at solving it. I also needed to solve it for myself. I grew up with this Payment theory that said that I really owed God something that I couldn’t pay, and God set up this whole economy with me owing something I couldn’t pay. That seemed problematic to me. And then I had more progressive friends who all say there’s this thing called the “nonviolent atonement.” I see this bloody beaten man with spikes through his arms and legs hanging on a cross and that seems pretty violent to me. I think those of us who tend to be more progressive want there to be a non-violent atonement, but we have this bloody Messiah in between us and a nonviolent atonement. I wanted to write very honestly and realistically about how we could deal with the violence of the cross without using it as an excuse for our own violence, but without pretending that it didn’t happen and isn’t central to everything we believe. I wanted to write a book that was both challenging and comforting for Christians on both the left and the right sides of the spectrum.
JV: After your research and contemplation of the cross, where did you land — or is this a spoiler — in terms of looking at the cross?
TJ: I would say this: for me — this isn’t for everybody — I combine this very high, orthodox Christology in which God is fully incarnate in Jesus, so this is a major event in the history of God and humanity. But I also have this view of God that I think is very Jewish in its origin — that God is in time and history with us that God learns, that God experiences change. And then I hold this fairly radical notion that because God was fully in Jesus and incarnate, that God experienced something in the suffering on the cross — something that united God and humanity in a way that we had not been united before.
So this solidarity between God and humanity is cemented in the cross and in Jesus’ cry of dereliction, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” — God experiences the absence of God! — which I think we all experience. For God to experience it opens a new door of understanding between God and humanity.
And then as a result, God says, “I don’t want these people ever to feel this again, ever to be alone again.” So God breathes the Holy Spirit onto the church and onto all of humanity and says, “You’ll never be the same again because of Jesus. And I will never be the same again because of Jesus. I know what it’s like to be human and I have a very special kinship with humanity that I didn’t have before Christ suffered on the cross.”
Juliet Vedral is a writer living in Washington, D.C. She is the former press secretary for Sojourners and currently edits an online literary magazine called The Wheelhouse Review when she isn’t serving as on staff at a local church. You can also find her on Twitter.
Got something to say about what you're reading? We value your feedback!