Monday, February 11, 2008
The Cross, Redemption, and Atonement
[I wrote this partly in response to an observation by a dear old friend after his visit to Ravenna. The iconography there seemed to depict Jesus very differently from the medieval emphasis on the Passion.]
I think the Western emphasis on the Passion has to do with the medieval Western doctrine of the Redemption, which we commonly call the “Atonement”, thus telegraphing the meaning of Redemption, as understood in the West, as implicitly claiming it as the ONLY understanding. But it isn’t.
Atonement was coined by William Tyndale in the 16th Century, in the attempt to translate the Hebrew word and the Latin (reconciliation), but still to include the idea of propitiatory, substitutionary sacrifice, which had become the popular Protestant variant of Anslem’s medieval “Satisfaction” theory. The latter was unknown to the ancient fathers of the Church, including Augustine, and is still not known in Eastern Orthodoxy. It holds that God’s honor was so damaged by human sin that even though God might wish, personally, to forgive, like a medieval monarch, He could not because of the insult to the honor of His throne.He had to uphold the dignity of His office. What to do? The Cross!
While Anselm’s emphasis was on God’s honor, later Protestants concentrated on human moral failings and our deserving. We deserve to be punished, but God provides a Substitute for us. (How this satisfies justice is not clear to me!) Anyway, in 1931 a Swedish theologian, lecturing at Oxford caused the beginning of a major shift in this thinking. (See following Wikipedia article)
The term Christus Victor comes from the title of Gustaf Aulén's groundbreaking book first published in 1931 where he drew attention back to this classical early church's understanding of the Atonement[1]. In it Aulén identifies three main types of Atonement Theories: the earliest was what Aulen called the "classical" view of the Atonement, more commonly known as Ransom Theory or since Aulén's work known sometimes as the "Christus Victor" theory: this is the theory that Adam and Eve sold humanity to the Devil during the Fall, hence justice required that God pay the Devil a ransom to free us from the Devil, which God did by tricking the Devil into accepting Christ's death as a ransom since the Devil did not realize that Christ could not die permanently. A second theory is the "Latin" or "objective" view, more commonly known as Satisfaction Theory, beginning with Anselmian Satisfaction (that Christ suffered as a substitute on behalf of humankind satisfying the demands of God's honor) and later developed by Protestants as penal substitution (that Christ is punished instead of humanity, thus satisfying the demands of justice so that God can justly forgive). A third is the "subjective" theory, commonly known as the Moral Influence view, that Christ's passion was an act of exemplary obedience which affects the intentions of those who come to know about it: it dates back to the early Christian authors and was championed by Abelard.
Aulén's book consists of a historical study beginning with the early church and tracing their Atonement theories up to the Protestant Reformation. Aulén argues that Christus Victor (or as Aulén called it the "classical view") was the predominant view of the early church and for the first thousand years of church history and was supported by nearly every Church Father including Irenaeus, Origen, and Augustine to name a few. A major shift occurred, Aulén says, when Anselm of Canterbury published his “Cur Deus Homo” around 1097 AD which marked the point where the predominant understanding of the Atonement shifted from the classical view (Christus Victor) to the Satisfaction view in the Catholic and later the Protestant Church. The Orthodox Church still holds to the Christus Victor view, based upon their understanding of the Atonement put forward by Irenaeus, called "recapitulation" Jesus became what we are so that we could become what he is. (see also Theosis).
Aulén argues that theologians have misunderstood the view of the early Church Fathers in seeing their view of the Atonement in terms of a Ransom Theory arguing that a proper understanding of their view should focus less on the payment of ransom to the devil, and more of the liberation of humanity from the bondage of sin, death, and the devil. As the term Christus Victor (Christ the Victor) indicates, the idea of “ransom” should not be seen in terms (as Anselm did) of a business transaction, but more in the terms of a rescue or liberation of humanity from the slavery of sin.
Unlike the Satisfaction Doctrine view of the Atonement (the “Latin” view) which is rooted in the idea of Christ paying the penalty of sin to satisfy the demands of justice, the “classic” view of the Early church (Christus Victor) is rooted in the Incarnation and how Christ entered into human misery and wickedness and thus redeemed it. Aulén argues that Christus Victor view of the Atonement is not so much a rational systematic theory as it is a drama, a passion story of God triumphing over the Powers and liberating humanity from the bondage of sin. As Gustav Aulén writes,
The work of Christ is first and foremost a victory over the powers which hold mankind in bondage: sin, death, and the devil [2]
This is why I prefer Redemption to Atonement. The former emphasizes liberation of creation as the purpose of the life and Death of Christ, not satisfaction of God’s honor or taking our punishment for us. I reject the last two ideas. They are not found in the fathers, and they reduce the Mystery to Roman legalism and Florentine accounting.
Not that the forgiveness of sins is absent from the work of Christ (This is my Blood of the New Covenant, which is shed for you and for all for the forgiveness of sins). This is very important. But it is not to be separated from the larger, cosmic and mystical achievement of the Redemption.
All of this is expressed in the kind of crucifix we make. The Orthodox ikon of the Crucifixion shows the Godman in complete control. This is also the motif common in early medieval crucifixes (sometimes known as the Christus Rex, though it might well be called the Christus Victor) in which the Crucified is shown as a priest/king, fully awake, dressed in Eucharistic vestments and crowned. His arms extend straight out. He does not so much hang on the Cross, as embrace the world from it. This comports with the ancient doctrine of the Redemption more than with Anselm’s views. [See image and commentary by another Anglo-Catholic here.]
I have a feeling that the contemporary horror of the Cross has to do with this Anselmian doctrine, more than with the Cross itself. A friend of mine once remarked that he liked the Roman Cathedral in San Francisco “because it does not display pictures of torture on the wall”. This boy knew nothing of the notion of Incarnation and Redemption. All he saw was a man being abused – tortured to death. And that is all there is to see if the figure on the Cross is not God Almighty in the flesh. If the Incarnation is unknown, or rejected, the Cross is a kind of obscenity. That is how the ancient Gnostics saw it, and I suspect some of their view has been preserved in Islam.
It is interesting to me that the preëminent scholar in the contemporary Gnostic revival (Elaine Pagels) has written of her own visceral distaste for the Cross. If the Incarnation is ruled out from the beginning, the Cross cannot be other than disgusting. But if the Crucified is the Godman, then the crucifix is not a depiction of torture, but of love: the lengths to which Love will go to get our attention and to break our hearts. Our stony hearts. And to give us hearts of flesh to long for Him.
But then, classical Gnosticism is not particularly interested in love. The famous Gospel of Thomas hardly contains the word. And the sarcastic, sneering Jesus of the Gospel of Judas cares nothing for it. For Gnostics, God does not love the world at all. The ancient, orthodox interpretation of the Sacrifice of Abraham on Mt. Moriah ~ the notion that it is a prefiguring of God’s own sacrifice on the nearby Mt. Calvary ~ makes no sense. By the way, I think this is one big difference between Sufism and ancient Gnosticism. There are many similarities, but as far as I know the Sufis are enraptured by the Love of God.
Here is a review of Christus Victor, which I found very interesting (on Amazon):
I was going through my shelf the other day and came across a 1969 edition and recalled a conversation I had with the folks at Wipf and Stock a few years ago about reprinting it and lo, there it was on amazon.com! Very cool guys. Why I haven't reviewed this book earlier surprises me, since it was seminal in modifying my views on the atonement from an American Lutheran to a more Eastern Orthodox position. So why does this book matter? Aulén challenges the status quo answer to the question: Why did Jesus have to die and what effect does the resurrection have? Raised Lutheran (Missouri Synod), I was taught a very Anselmian version of God's rationale for the events of our salvation which the author of this book takes to task (or at least demonstrates to be a modern development). We sinned in Adam, are guilty for his sin, and the offense to God's justice demands His wrath be taken out against us. Jesus takes the wrath of God upon himself, so when the Father sees me He really sees Jesus and doesn't take His anger out on me. Of course there is a biblical basis to some of this, but not to the exclusive extent that this theory holds over most of Protestant theology (although, as the author points out, Luther himself had a more nuanced version in his theology with the "blessed exchange" of the natures in Christ and, by that virtue, our own in Christ). Such a model focuses heavily upon the death of Christ, and personally I can remark that often the incarnation and resurrection were taught as an afterthought. Aulén begins his work by stating the problem of the atonement and its possible answers, tracing the history and role that the Anselmian, Latin version has played, commonly known as the substitutionary theory: Jesus takes my place under the wrath of God. Then Irenaeus is used as the example of the earlier and more universal theory of the early church and New Testament: Christ tramples down sin, death and the power of the devil by his incarnation, death and resurrection. This is the classic model of recapitulation in Christ. Then the Middle Ages are examined with the roles of Tertullian, Cyprian, Gregory the Big One and Anslem, among other notables. Here the classic idea is beginning to wane and almost disappear under the weight of the Latin model. Although Luther moves markedly to the classical model, he still employs terms and sometimes the meaning of the Latin model, which has further solidified it in his tradition. He concludes with some analysis of post-Luther developments and posits that a return to the original model is a needed corrective. A very comprehensive and packed slim volume indeed! Other books of interest may include How Are We Saved?: The Understanding of Salvation in the Orthodox Traditionby Kallistos Ware, Common Ground: An Introduction to Eastern Christianity for the American Christian by Jordan Bajis, and for a Lutheran reappropriation of the classical idea, Union With Christ: The New Finnish Interpretation of Lutheredited by Braaten and Jenson.
Then there is The New Covenant in My Blood, Shed for you and for All for the Forgiveness of Sins, which we celebrate at the Eucharist. Three ancient Hebrew notions are brought together here: covenant, blood atonement, and Paschal sacrifice. They do not always go together. In fact, it is interesting ~ maybe even crucial (no pun intended) ~ to separate them, so that we can see what jesus accomplished by bringing them together.
We identify Jesus as the Paschal Lamb, but that sacrifice was not a sin-offering: it was a commemoration of the Passover and the ensuing escape from slavery in Egypt. The Paschal Blood on the lintels and doorposts was a prophylactic against death. It had nothing to do with the remission of sin. Jesus connects His Blood with the forgiveness of sin, I think, by way of saying that human reconciliation with God is contained within the Liberation from Death and the power of the Evil One (symbolized by Pharaoh in the typology). The Blood of Christ is the Price of my salvation not so much that His Blood is necessary to cleanse me (Protestantism), but necessary to free me from the grip of sin and Death (Orthodoxy), because Christ’s Blood was the price of His admission to the stronghold of the evil one. Christ had to die in order to gain dominion over Death.
Finally, there is the all-important matter of the Covenant. Here the bloodshed has nothing to do with sin at all, nor either with cosmic Redemption, but with the uniting of the parties to a covenant. The ancient Hebrews (e.g.: David and Jonathan) first cut an animal in two and passed between the separated halves. Then they burned it as a joint offering. Then they slashed the bottom of their palms, just below the thumbs (about where the Romans drove in nails of crucifixion), and joined hands, mingling their blood. Immediately thereafter, they rubbed ashes from the burnt-offering into the wounds to make a good scar as a permanent reminder of their commitment. They would hold this scar before their eyes whenever they lifted a cup of wine. This was all done publicly, in the presence of witnesses. Afterwards, to seal the whole deal, everyone ate a ceremonial meal, including whatever was left of the burnt offering, but at least bread and wine!
So, the Holy Eucharist is ~ among many other things ~ a reenactment of a covenant meal, in which the Body of the sacrificial Victim is consumed, together with Bread and Wine. As parties to this New Covenant, we become one with Christ in His Death and Resurrection, so that whoever eats this Bread shall live forever.
But why the Cross? Why such an awful kind of death? Again, to get our attention? To display the limitless extent of God’s love for us? This is Abelard’s view, and I take it. A couple of considerationa might be added to pure Exemplarism, however: crucifixion was the Roman punishment for rebellious slaves and other political criminals (e.g.: the brigands [not mere thieves] crucified with Jesus). The Cross was, therefore, the perfect means of displaying Jesus’s Victory over the usurper-Prince of this world. The Cross was the worst he could do, and it turned out to be his own undoing. As a later, medieval carol put it, recalling that David slew the Philistine not with a stone but with his own sword after the boy had stunned him with the slingshot:
By the sword that was his own,
By that sword and that alone,
Shall Goliath be overthrown.
So behold,
all the gates of heaven unfold!
Furthermore, on the Cross, Godman absorbs, as it were, all the evil of this world. God thus reveals His almighty power, and His immortality - by dying. God’s Kingship is manifest on the Cross, as in the ancient Latin hymn, Vexilla regis proderunt:
Impleta sunt quae concinit
David fideli carmine,
dicendo nationibus:
regnavit a ligno Deus.
Fulfilled is all that David told
in true prophetic song of old,
how God the nations King should be,
for God is reigning from the Tree.
Pilate knew not the truth of what he wrote, Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews. The Godman earns the title by defeating the Prince of this World. The Instrument of His Victory is the Cross. The moment of Victory is the moment of His Death, the moment in which He enters Hades and breaks down its doors. As Death entered the world through a tree, so Death is expelled from Creation by a Tree, which we therefore call holy and lifegiving. All this is a bit of a trick. As Eve was tricked by the serpent, so the Godman tricks him in return and frees Adam and Eve from his dominion.
Art by art shall be assailed,
To the Cross shall Life be nailed,
From the Grave our Hope be hailed.
So behold,
All the gates of heaven unfold.
This identification of the Cross with the Tree of Life goes back to the Fourth Century, the heydey of the Christus Victor understanding of the Redemption. It underlies the strange tale of the burial of Adam, contained in a Syriac manuscript called The Testament of Adam.
Knowing he was dying, Adam instructed his son, Seth, to go back to Eden and get three seeds from the fruit of the Tree of Life. These Seth was to put in his father's mouth before he buried him. Seth did so, and three trees grew out of Adam's decomposing corpse. They intertwined with one another in such a way that when Hiram of Tyre cut the tree down for use on the construction of Solomon's Temple, he found it was useless, and threw it into the Pool of Bethesda, just outside the Temple precincts, in which it sank. Thereafter it imparted some of its life-giving virtue to the water of the pool, which became famous as a place of healing.
I think the Western emphasis on the Passion has to do with the medieval Western doctrine of the Redemption, which we commonly call the “Atonement”, thus telegraphing the meaning of Redemption, as understood in the West, as implicitly claiming it as the ONLY understanding. But it isn’t.
Atonement was coined by William Tyndale in the 16th Century, in the attempt to translate the Hebrew word and the Latin (reconciliation), but still to include the idea of propitiatory, substitutionary sacrifice, which had become the popular Protestant variant of Anslem’s medieval “Satisfaction” theory. The latter was unknown to the ancient fathers of the Church, including Augustine, and is still not known in Eastern Orthodoxy. It holds that God’s honor was so damaged by human sin that even though God might wish, personally, to forgive, like a medieval monarch, He could not because of the insult to the honor of His throne.He had to uphold the dignity of His office. What to do? The Cross!
While Anselm’s emphasis was on God’s honor, later Protestants concentrated on human moral failings and our deserving. We deserve to be punished, but God provides a Substitute for us. (How this satisfies justice is not clear to me!) Anyway, in 1931 a Swedish theologian, lecturing at Oxford caused the beginning of a major shift in this thinking. (See following Wikipedia article)
The term Christus Victor comes from the title of Gustaf Aulén's groundbreaking book first published in 1931 where he drew attention back to this classical early church's understanding of the Atonement[1]. In it Aulén identifies three main types of Atonement Theories: the earliest was what Aulen called the "classical" view of the Atonement, more commonly known as Ransom Theory or since Aulén's work known sometimes as the "Christus Victor" theory: this is the theory that Adam and Eve sold humanity to the Devil during the Fall, hence justice required that God pay the Devil a ransom to free us from the Devil, which God did by tricking the Devil into accepting Christ's death as a ransom since the Devil did not realize that Christ could not die permanently. A second theory is the "Latin" or "objective" view, more commonly known as Satisfaction Theory, beginning with Anselmian Satisfaction (that Christ suffered as a substitute on behalf of humankind satisfying the demands of God's honor) and later developed by Protestants as penal substitution (that Christ is punished instead of humanity, thus satisfying the demands of justice so that God can justly forgive). A third is the "subjective" theory, commonly known as the Moral Influence view, that Christ's passion was an act of exemplary obedience which affects the intentions of those who come to know about it: it dates back to the early Christian authors and was championed by Abelard.
Aulén's book consists of a historical study beginning with the early church and tracing their Atonement theories up to the Protestant Reformation. Aulén argues that Christus Victor (or as Aulén called it the "classical view") was the predominant view of the early church and for the first thousand years of church history and was supported by nearly every Church Father including Irenaeus, Origen, and Augustine to name a few. A major shift occurred, Aulén says, when Anselm of Canterbury published his “Cur Deus Homo” around 1097 AD which marked the point where the predominant understanding of the Atonement shifted from the classical view (Christus Victor) to the Satisfaction view in the Catholic and later the Protestant Church. The Orthodox Church still holds to the Christus Victor view, based upon their understanding of the Atonement put forward by Irenaeus, called "recapitulation" Jesus became what we are so that we could become what he is. (see also Theosis).
Aulén argues that theologians have misunderstood the view of the early Church Fathers in seeing their view of the Atonement in terms of a Ransom Theory arguing that a proper understanding of their view should focus less on the payment of ransom to the devil, and more of the liberation of humanity from the bondage of sin, death, and the devil. As the term Christus Victor (Christ the Victor) indicates, the idea of “ransom” should not be seen in terms (as Anselm did) of a business transaction, but more in the terms of a rescue or liberation of humanity from the slavery of sin.
Unlike the Satisfaction Doctrine view of the Atonement (the “Latin” view) which is rooted in the idea of Christ paying the penalty of sin to satisfy the demands of justice, the “classic” view of the Early church (Christus Victor) is rooted in the Incarnation and how Christ entered into human misery and wickedness and thus redeemed it. Aulén argues that Christus Victor view of the Atonement is not so much a rational systematic theory as it is a drama, a passion story of God triumphing over the Powers and liberating humanity from the bondage of sin. As Gustav Aulén writes,
The work of Christ is first and foremost a victory over the powers which hold mankind in bondage: sin, death, and the devil [2]
This is why I prefer Redemption to Atonement. The former emphasizes liberation of creation as the purpose of the life and Death of Christ, not satisfaction of God’s honor or taking our punishment for us. I reject the last two ideas. They are not found in the fathers, and they reduce the Mystery to Roman legalism and Florentine accounting.
Not that the forgiveness of sins is absent from the work of Christ (This is my Blood of the New Covenant, which is shed for you and for all for the forgiveness of sins). This is very important. But it is not to be separated from the larger, cosmic and mystical achievement of the Redemption.
All of this is expressed in the kind of crucifix we make. The Orthodox ikon of the Crucifixion shows the Godman in complete control. This is also the motif common in early medieval crucifixes (sometimes known as the Christus Rex, though it might well be called the Christus Victor) in which the Crucified is shown as a priest/king, fully awake, dressed in Eucharistic vestments and crowned. His arms extend straight out. He does not so much hang on the Cross, as embrace the world from it. This comports with the ancient doctrine of the Redemption more than with Anselm’s views. [See image and commentary by another Anglo-Catholic here.]
I have a feeling that the contemporary horror of the Cross has to do with this Anselmian doctrine, more than with the Cross itself. A friend of mine once remarked that he liked the Roman Cathedral in San Francisco “because it does not display pictures of torture on the wall”. This boy knew nothing of the notion of Incarnation and Redemption. All he saw was a man being abused – tortured to death. And that is all there is to see if the figure on the Cross is not God Almighty in the flesh. If the Incarnation is unknown, or rejected, the Cross is a kind of obscenity. That is how the ancient Gnostics saw it, and I suspect some of their view has been preserved in Islam.
It is interesting to me that the preëminent scholar in the contemporary Gnostic revival (Elaine Pagels) has written of her own visceral distaste for the Cross. If the Incarnation is ruled out from the beginning, the Cross cannot be other than disgusting. But if the Crucified is the Godman, then the crucifix is not a depiction of torture, but of love: the lengths to which Love will go to get our attention and to break our hearts. Our stony hearts. And to give us hearts of flesh to long for Him.
But then, classical Gnosticism is not particularly interested in love. The famous Gospel of Thomas hardly contains the word. And the sarcastic, sneering Jesus of the Gospel of Judas cares nothing for it. For Gnostics, God does not love the world at all. The ancient, orthodox interpretation of the Sacrifice of Abraham on Mt. Moriah ~ the notion that it is a prefiguring of God’s own sacrifice on the nearby Mt. Calvary ~ makes no sense. By the way, I think this is one big difference between Sufism and ancient Gnosticism. There are many similarities, but as far as I know the Sufis are enraptured by the Love of God.
Here is a review of Christus Victor, which I found very interesting (on Amazon):
I was going through my shelf the other day and came across a 1969 edition and recalled a conversation I had with the folks at Wipf and Stock a few years ago about reprinting it and lo, there it was on amazon.com! Very cool guys. Why I haven't reviewed this book earlier surprises me, since it was seminal in modifying my views on the atonement from an American Lutheran to a more Eastern Orthodox position. So why does this book matter? Aulén challenges the status quo answer to the question: Why did Jesus have to die and what effect does the resurrection have? Raised Lutheran (Missouri Synod), I was taught a very Anselmian version of God's rationale for the events of our salvation which the author of this book takes to task (or at least demonstrates to be a modern development). We sinned in Adam, are guilty for his sin, and the offense to God's justice demands His wrath be taken out against us. Jesus takes the wrath of God upon himself, so when the Father sees me He really sees Jesus and doesn't take His anger out on me. Of course there is a biblical basis to some of this, but not to the exclusive extent that this theory holds over most of Protestant theology (although, as the author points out, Luther himself had a more nuanced version in his theology with the "blessed exchange" of the natures in Christ and, by that virtue, our own in Christ). Such a model focuses heavily upon the death of Christ, and personally I can remark that often the incarnation and resurrection were taught as an afterthought. Aulén begins his work by stating the problem of the atonement and its possible answers, tracing the history and role that the Anselmian, Latin version has played, commonly known as the substitutionary theory: Jesus takes my place under the wrath of God. Then Irenaeus is used as the example of the earlier and more universal theory of the early church and New Testament: Christ tramples down sin, death and the power of the devil by his incarnation, death and resurrection. This is the classic model of recapitulation in Christ. Then the Middle Ages are examined with the roles of Tertullian, Cyprian, Gregory the Big One and Anslem, among other notables. Here the classic idea is beginning to wane and almost disappear under the weight of the Latin model. Although Luther moves markedly to the classical model, he still employs terms and sometimes the meaning of the Latin model, which has further solidified it in his tradition. He concludes with some analysis of post-Luther developments and posits that a return to the original model is a needed corrective. A very comprehensive and packed slim volume indeed! Other books of interest may include How Are We Saved?: The Understanding of Salvation in the Orthodox Traditionby Kallistos Ware, Common Ground: An Introduction to Eastern Christianity for the American Christian by Jordan Bajis, and for a Lutheran reappropriation of the classical idea, Union With Christ: The New Finnish Interpretation of Lutheredited by Braaten and Jenson.
Then there is The New Covenant in My Blood, Shed for you and for All for the Forgiveness of Sins, which we celebrate at the Eucharist. Three ancient Hebrew notions are brought together here: covenant, blood atonement, and Paschal sacrifice. They do not always go together. In fact, it is interesting ~ maybe even crucial (no pun intended) ~ to separate them, so that we can see what jesus accomplished by bringing them together.
We identify Jesus as the Paschal Lamb, but that sacrifice was not a sin-offering: it was a commemoration of the Passover and the ensuing escape from slavery in Egypt. The Paschal Blood on the lintels and doorposts was a prophylactic against death. It had nothing to do with the remission of sin. Jesus connects His Blood with the forgiveness of sin, I think, by way of saying that human reconciliation with God is contained within the Liberation from Death and the power of the Evil One (symbolized by Pharaoh in the typology). The Blood of Christ is the Price of my salvation not so much that His Blood is necessary to cleanse me (Protestantism), but necessary to free me from the grip of sin and Death (Orthodoxy), because Christ’s Blood was the price of His admission to the stronghold of the evil one. Christ had to die in order to gain dominion over Death.
Finally, there is the all-important matter of the Covenant. Here the bloodshed has nothing to do with sin at all, nor either with cosmic Redemption, but with the uniting of the parties to a covenant. The ancient Hebrews (e.g.: David and Jonathan) first cut an animal in two and passed between the separated halves. Then they burned it as a joint offering. Then they slashed the bottom of their palms, just below the thumbs (about where the Romans drove in nails of crucifixion), and joined hands, mingling their blood. Immediately thereafter, they rubbed ashes from the burnt-offering into the wounds to make a good scar as a permanent reminder of their commitment. They would hold this scar before their eyes whenever they lifted a cup of wine. This was all done publicly, in the presence of witnesses. Afterwards, to seal the whole deal, everyone ate a ceremonial meal, including whatever was left of the burnt offering, but at least bread and wine!
So, the Holy Eucharist is ~ among many other things ~ a reenactment of a covenant meal, in which the Body of the sacrificial Victim is consumed, together with Bread and Wine. As parties to this New Covenant, we become one with Christ in His Death and Resurrection, so that whoever eats this Bread shall live forever.
But why the Cross? Why such an awful kind of death? Again, to get our attention? To display the limitless extent of God’s love for us? This is Abelard’s view, and I take it. A couple of considerationa might be added to pure Exemplarism, however: crucifixion was the Roman punishment for rebellious slaves and other political criminals (e.g.: the brigands [not mere thieves] crucified with Jesus). The Cross was, therefore, the perfect means of displaying Jesus’s Victory over the usurper-Prince of this world. The Cross was the worst he could do, and it turned out to be his own undoing. As a later, medieval carol put it, recalling that David slew the Philistine not with a stone but with his own sword after the boy had stunned him with the slingshot:
By the sword that was his own,
By that sword and that alone,
Shall Goliath be overthrown.
So behold,
all the gates of heaven unfold!
Furthermore, on the Cross, Godman absorbs, as it were, all the evil of this world. God thus reveals His almighty power, and His immortality - by dying. God’s Kingship is manifest on the Cross, as in the ancient Latin hymn, Vexilla regis proderunt:
Impleta sunt quae concinit
David fideli carmine,
dicendo nationibus:
regnavit a ligno Deus.
Fulfilled is all that David told
in true prophetic song of old,
how God the nations King should be,
for God is reigning from the Tree.
Pilate knew not the truth of what he wrote, Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews. The Godman earns the title by defeating the Prince of this World. The Instrument of His Victory is the Cross. The moment of Victory is the moment of His Death, the moment in which He enters Hades and breaks down its doors. As Death entered the world through a tree, so Death is expelled from Creation by a Tree, which we therefore call holy and lifegiving. All this is a bit of a trick. As Eve was tricked by the serpent, so the Godman tricks him in return and frees Adam and Eve from his dominion.
Art by art shall be assailed,
To the Cross shall Life be nailed,
From the Grave our Hope be hailed.
So behold,
All the gates of heaven unfold.
This identification of the Cross with the Tree of Life goes back to the Fourth Century, the heydey of the Christus Victor understanding of the Redemption. It underlies the strange tale of the burial of Adam, contained in a Syriac manuscript called The Testament of Adam.
Knowing he was dying, Adam instructed his son, Seth, to go back to Eden and get three seeds from the fruit of the Tree of Life. These Seth was to put in his father's mouth before he buried him. Seth did so, and three trees grew out of Adam's decomposing corpse. They intertwined with one another in such a way that when Hiram of Tyre cut the tree down for use on the construction of Solomon's Temple, he found it was useless, and threw it into the Pool of Bethesda, just outside the Temple precincts, in which it sank. Thereafter it imparted some of its life-giving virtue to the water of the pool, which became famous as a place of healing.
It resurfaced on Good Friday morning. Pilate's headquarters (Praetorium) were adjecent to Bethesda, so the soldiers, looking for a suitable piee of wood for the Cross, found the primordial Tree. This was eventually replanted on Calvary, the place of the skull, which was called that because it was the place where Seth had buried Adam.
Thus is all recapitulated. The Cross is the Tree of Life.
