Easter Reflection 2023
I saw a quote the other day that went something like this:
“What sort of predicament are we in that we should require the crucifixion of the son of God [to save us]?”
(The quote then goes on to describe how horrible the suffering of crucifixion is, and how it was designed to make the victim subhuman, etc etc. The point being—I assume—that humans must be truly depraved and wicked if it required a sacrifice of that level to redeem us. The magnitude of a crucifixion sentence should make us somberly consider the ramifications of our depth of evil. We must be well and truly effed on an existential level if this is our only way out).
But that assumes there’s a punishment mindset behind this whole story.
That assumes that Jesus’ experience there on the cross was to somehow take our place of what we deserve.
But how the heck do we get that from the gospel story?
Jesus was a Jewish preacher (who also happened to be the Son of God), and the things he taught and did and believed ultimately infuriated the religious powers that be—because they saw him as a threat to their established way of comfort—so much that they handed him over to the state to be systematically executed.
This was a political move. It was motivated by religious greed and fear and anger. The religious leaders didn’t want to lose their grip on their power—and perhaps you could even be kind enough to argue that they truly thought their Jewish religious system was right and God-honoring and they didn’t want the laypeople to be led astray by false teachings. But it doesn’t matter their motivations: God was here in the flesh telling them they were doing it wrong, and so they told him to go to hell. Literally.
Eff you, here’s a cross.
Nowhere in this story is there some notion that Jesus is taking anyone’s place. It’s not like the Romans were going to crucify all the Jewish people and Jesus pulled a Katniss and said “no, take me instead; I volunteer as tribute.” (And even more tellingly, Jesus didn’t teach about God as a father that hated his children so much he was going to slaughter them all, unless a righteous man with no sin offered himself as a sacrifice in their place). If Jesus took anyone’s place, it would be Barabbas; but I would argue that Barabbas was actually the substitute for Jesus here, because the crowd wanted him to go free instead.
The death of Jesus on the cross was a supreme tragedy, a mockery of justice, an exposure of the systemic political evil in the world, an indictment on the religious authorities—and also the only inevitable ending to the story.
In a broken world full of fallen humanity who have propped ourselves up on systems of power and greed and violence, someone who preaches a message of subversive hope and opposition to those paths is going to get snuffed out eventually.
So no, I don’t see Jesus’s death on the cross as any sort of substitution.
I see it as a revelation. And a proclamation.
It reveals the darkest nature of humanity. (How could we come up with a death so torturous and cruel? And then use it on someone who was innocent?)
It reveals the corruption of power.
It reveals the hypocrisy of religion.
It reveals the failure of our human systems.
And—ultimately—it reveals and proclaims the true nature, depth, and extent of God’s Love for us.
It proclaims that there is a new kingdom that defies all the old ways of doing things, all the old patterns and paths.
Jesus was obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross—not because of punishment, but because of Love.
Who was punishing Jesus, anyway? God did not kill his son. The Roman state did, because the Jewish leaders—the ones who were supposed to be closest to God, his chosen people—begged them to. If God was not doing the punishing and torturing, then how does this count as a substitute for us on his behalf?
Also, I’m pretty sure I wasn’t alive in the first century, but if I was, I’m also fairly certain the religious elite and the Roman politicians wouldn’t be after my head; so again, there’s no substitution happening by Jesus dying on that cross.
TL:DR substitutionary atonement is bullshit, it’s terrible theology, and it doesn’t even make logical sense. Happy Easter.
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Two side notes:
One: Substitutionary Atonement is probably fine as a metaphor, but only if it’s used in conjunction with a whole catalogue of other atonement metaphors. There’s so much Old Testament imagery to unpack that there’s probably a bit of truth to it. But to make it—not even the primary metaphor, but the *ONLY* metaphor we have to explain the cross—is foolishness. It paints the wrong picture.
Two: I’m not saying that Jesus doesn’t rescue us from sin.
I’m saying that Jesus rescues us from sin in a way that is completely subversive to the way we expected him to.
We thought he would come with a sword, destroying our enemies, eliminating evil, and setting up his kingdom with power and force.
Instead, he comes in peace, meek and lowly, with compassion for others, allowing the systems of this world to crush him unto death…and then he appears on the other side of it to show that all our systems of power and rage, greed and violence are empty, and that what he has been teaching about who God is and what His kingdom is like have been the most true things all along.
There is no other King. There is no other Path. There is no other victory.
THIS is what it looks like to be human.
This was God’s intention for us when he decided to create this whole world in the first place.
This is who we were meant to be, and how we were meant to behave.
He asks us to follow him. To live like he lived. To eschew our worldly patterns of thought and belief to pursue a kingdom behavior.
And maybe it’s just me, but I find that much more beautiful and much more compelling than the story most churches tell every Easter. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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