We start where Scripture does â with God. And the God revealed in Scripture is the righteous God of holy love. However, I live in a largely profane society, so understanding holiness does not come easily to me. I do not see temples on street corners and animals being led to sacrifice. I do not see thousands washing themselves in the Chicago River to become pure. (Given that riverâs history such would be an act of faith beyond compare!) Yet without an understanding of divine holiness the God of biblical presentation is problematical (to say the least) for many moderns in his acts of judgment. Moreover, the cross of Christ seems immoral as the linchpin of the divine plan of salvation. How could God be in Christ reconciling the world to himself in such a violent event? Likewise, the idea of divine righteousness does not immediately resonate with modern sensibilities. As R. T. France observes, âOf all the uninviting words of an old fashioned religious jargon, ârighteousnessâ is one of the worst. If it means anything at all to the average man, it expresses a stuffy legalism, prim and unattractive, or at best it is a Victorian synonym for good deeds.â1 In fact, if I hear the term ârighteousâ used in secular contexts, more often than not it has to do with describing someone pejoratively as âself-righteousâ. That is to say, conceited in their own sense of personal goodness in contrast to others.
The idea of a loving God comes more easily. This is not a new phenomenon. Lactantius (c. 250â325) dealt with it in the early church period. In his On the Anger of God he writes:
But now we will argue against those who, falling from the second step, entertain wrong sentiments respecting the Supreme God. For some say that He neither does a kindness to any one, nor becomes angry, but in security and quietness enjoys the advantages of His own immortality. Others, indeed, take away anger, but leave to God kindness; for they think that a nature excelling in the greatest virtue, while it ought not to be malevolent, ought also to be benevolent. Thus all the philosophers are agreed on the subject of anger, but are at variance respecting kindness.2
Lactantius sweepingly asserts that the philosophers of the day would never ascribe anger to God. However, there were some prepared to predicate kindness of God. More recently, Catherine the Great of the eighteenth century supposedly said, âAh, God is good; heâs bound to forgive us; thatâs his job.â3 Not a hint of judgment here.
The sentimentalizing of God gives comfort to many, especially in the face of death. Such a God is sure to welcome us, or our loved ones, into the divine presence. This God is good for oneâs self-image. Such a mono-attributed God may be a darling to some of the affluent who live in a stable social order. But to the persecuted, to those who live on the underside of the exercise of power in a society, to those who know what injustice is, this God is no comfort at all. African-American theologian, Rufus Burrow, Jr., rightly decries âthe tendency to speak of Godâs attributes in monopolar terms. That is, to claim that God is only one thing, e.g., love, and nothing else.â4 He argues powerfully for the recovery of the fully orbed biblical presentation of the God who is both love and light:
My claim is that the idea of divine love needs the truth in divine wrath as much as the latter needs the tenderness and care of Godâs compassion. As polar opposites we cannot know the fuller meaning of either without the other. A God who only loves but is not affected by violations of the divine image of God in persons and therefore will not condemn such violations may be deemed too soft and sentimental to respond realistically to much of the excruciating unearned suffering that Afrikan [sic.] Americans and other persons of color are forced to endure nearly every moment of their lives. And yet a God who is essentially wrath and anger would not be worth the time of day, and most assuredly would not be worthy of worship.5
Burrow rightly points out the problem with reductionism of the left (a God only of love) and reductionism of the right (a God only of wrath).
In biblical terms, we are created to be worshippers. Yahweh created an entire people with that great end in mind:
the people I formed for myself
that they may proclaim my praise.
(Isa. 43:21)
According to Jesus, the Father is seeking worshippers who do so in spirit and in truth (John 4:23). The eternal gospel of the book of Revelation is âWorship him who made the heavens, the earth, the sea and the springs of waterâ (Rev. 14:7). There is no higher pursuit than the worship of the living God. Indeed, we become like the God or gods we adore and serve for good or ill. All hangs upon the nature of the God or gods we follow. How then we construe Godâs character is of utmost importance. If we serve the living God of biblical revelation, then we shall image him. If we follow idols, we shall image them. A. W. Tozer saw this clearly:
What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us . . . The history of mankind will probably show that no people has ever risen above its religion, and manâs spiritual history will positively demonstrate that no religion has ever been greater than its idea of God . . . Always the most revealing thing about the Church is her idea of God, just as her most significant message is what she says about Him or leaves unsaid, for her silence is often more eloquent than her speech. She can never escape the self-disclosure of her witness concerning God.6
Tozer stood on solid exegetical ground for his view. The psalmist says of the worship of idols in Psalm 115:8:
Those who make them will be like them,
and so will all who trust in them.
(Ps. 115:8)
And in the New Testament, if by the Spirit we contemplate (katoptrizĹ, âlooking at as in a mirrorâ) Christ we shall be transformed into his likeness from one degree of glory to the next (2 Cor. 3:18).7
In his argument for the necessity for atonement, Anselm famously says to Boso, âYou have not yet considered what a heavy weight sin is.â8 To which may be added, âYou have not yet considered who God is as scripturally revealed.â Both considerations are vital to the doctrine of the atonement and to exploring its logic rather than what picture of God and ourselves will make us feel better in our own skins. Hence in this chapter we attend to the character of God, and in the following two, respectively, consider what we have become with the irruption of sin in creation and the problem it creates.
The divine perfections: a righteous holy love
The triune God of Scriptural revelation has perfections.9 In other words God has a nature. Understanding that nature is crucial for understanding the course of the atonement. Karl Barth argues suggestively that love is the basic definition of who God is: âGod is the One who loves.â10 He maintains, âAll our further insights about who and what God is must revolve round this mystery â the mystery of His loving. In a certain sense they can only be repetitions and amplifications of the one statement that âGod loves.ââ11 In fact, Karl Barth argues for two kinds of divine perfection: the perfections of divine freedom (unity and omnipresence, constancy and omnipotence, eternity and glory) and the perfections of divine loving (grace and holiness, mercy and righteousness, patience and wisdom).12 Such dichotomizing for the sake of theological discussion is common.13 Other theologians write of the natural and moral attributes of God; still others of his incommunicable attributes. In Barthâs case it is clear though that the divine loving is the controlling idea. The Barthian dichotomy is highly suggestive, but perfections of divine loving are too specific and thus too restrictive. Is holiness, for example, a perfection of divine loving? Not in any obvious sense.
Each of the persons of the Trinity, however, is righteous, holy and loving, and always has been. The Barthian view is too narrow in making âGod is the One who lovesâ the basic definition of God.14 Take how Jesus construes the Father as a case in point. According to Johnâs Gospel, Jesus prayed in the garden to his âHoly Fatherâ (John 17:11) and to his âRighteous Fatherâ (John 17:25).15 Although Jesus does not address the Father in this context as âLoving Fatherâ, the references to the Fatherâs love for the Son in the same prayer are indicative of the Fatherâs loving character (John 17:23â26). Righteousness, holiness (understood in moral terms) and love are relational values. That God is a trinity helps us understand why righteousness, holiness and love have always been true of the Persons of the Godhead in their communion. It would be so much harder to see the sense in ascribing such perfections to an undifferentiated monad before there was a creation to which to relate.
Let us now explore each of these perfections in turn because they are particularly relevant to our understanding of the need and nature of the divine atoning project. Divine righteousness and holiness inform the need for atonement. Divine love provides it, as I hope that this and subsequent chapters establish.
Divine righteousness
To say ...