Monday, July 28, 2008

Navanethem Pillay the new UN rights chief

Malayala Manorama Indian Newspaper of Malayalam Language from eight places in Kerela

Saturday,26 July 2008 12:3 hrs IST
Indian-origin judge is new UN rights chief

United Nations: Indian-origin ICC judge Navanethem Pillay has been named the United Nations' new human rights chief, despite some initial opposition from the US. Pillay, 67, who is from South Africa, will succeed Louise Arbour of Canada who completed her term on June 30.

The job of human rights commissioner is both high profile and controversial as member States are very sensitive to their respective records. Arbour too had annoyed Islamic countries as also some western nations by her outspoken statements.

The 192-member General Assembly is expected to confirm Pillay's appointment for a four-year term on Monday. The search for new human rights commissioner started when Arbour said she does not intend to seek a second term.

Born into an ethnic Tamil family during apartheid daysm she was brought up in a poor neighbourhood and had to discrimination. Her father was a bus driver. Despite odds, she became the first woman to start law practice in South Africa's Natal Province in 1968 and defended several anti-apartheid activists and successfully fought for the right of political prisoners, including Nelson Mandela, to have access to lawyers.

Officials and diplomats at the UN said the US had at one stage opposed her nomination because of her views on abortion and some other issues as also South Africa's opposition to impose sanction on Zimbabwe.

But it finally gave the go ahead which led UN Secretary General Ban-Ki-moon to announce the appointment.

A Harvard alumna, Pillai is serving as a judge on the International Criminal Court in the Hague since 2003. She had earlier served both as judge and president on the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda which she had joined in 1995.

Ban's spokesperson Michele Montas told reporters that the decision was taken after "an extensive selection process" which included consultations with member States and with broad-based non-governmental organisations.

As a judge of the Rwanda tribunal, Pillay led the landmark decisions defining rape as an institutionalised weapon of war and a crime of genocide. In Early 1970s, she helped expose torture and illegal interrogation methods.

Pillay earned Master of Law degree from Harvard in 1982, her second law degree, and Doctor of Judicial Sciences in 1988. In 1992, she co-founded Equality Now which works women's rights across the world. In 2003 she received the inaugural Gruber Prize for Women's Rights.

A Geneva-based human rights watchdog has, meanwhile, urged Pillay to play more proactive role in bringing rights violations by various countries, including Russia and China, to forefront than her predecessor. "We look forward to working with Judge Pillay in Geneva," said Hillel Neuer, executive director of UN Watch, an independent human rights monitoring organisation. He urged Pillay to use her "unique bully pulpit" to throw a spotlight on the world's worst violations, including in Darfur, Myanmar, China and Zimbabwe.

A UN Watch report on Arbour's tenure to be released next week finds that her UN statements in 2007 and 2008 addressed violations by 40 countries around the world, including Afghanistan, Nepal, Iraq, the U.S. and Sudan.

However, Arbour kept silent on "systematic violations" by Russia and Egypt, and issued only one statement on China, the report says.

"Because Pillay is from Africa," said Neuer, "we hope she will have the political leeway to go where some Westerners feared to tread."

Sunday, July 27, 2008

How one careless phone call ended Radovan Karadzic’s liberty - Times Online


How one careless phone call ended Radovan Karadzic’s liberty - Times Online

How one careless phone call ended Radovan Karadzic’s liberty

A careless phone call brought Radovan Karadzic’s colourful life on the run to an abrupt end

As the long-haired, bearded man who had become known as the local eccentric walked out of the Leotar supermarket in a suburb of Belgrade nine days ago, he unexpectedly turned back to the checkout girls.

“I want to say goodbye,” he said. “I’m going on vacation. I need a rest, I’ve been working a lot.” He could not know how prescient his words were.

Radovan Karadzic, 63, wartime leader of the Bosnian Serbs and one of the most wanted men in the world, had only a few hours of freedom left after almost 13 years on the run.

Sofia Kaluderovic, 44, at the checkout, rang up the usual purchases for the man she believed was Dragan Dabic, a new age doctor: yoghurt, specially ordered cherries, the nationalist newspaper Pravda and a bottle of Bear’s Blood, a cheap Serbian red wine.

As he left the shop, he cut his usual distinctive figure, dressed in a black T-shirt and trousers, sandals, his long white hair bound with an elastic band into a top knot and his face buried beneath an enormous white beard and oversize glasses.

In retrospect, Uros, the shop’s owner, realised that his customer may have found comfort in the shop’s name, Leotar – a famous mountain in the Serbian part of Bosnia that Karadzic ran as president of the self-styled Srpska Republic.

“He was a real gentleman,” Uros said, remembering his jokes and generous tips. “If I’d known who he really was, I would never have charged for anything. I will die sorry that I didn’t recognise him.”

Karadzic’s disguise was effective right up until the moment he was caught. He boarded the 73 bus from the stop around the corner, carrying a bag containing a lap-top, two mobile phones, clothes including swimming trunks, and €600 (£472) in cash.

His plan to leave Belgrade apparently spurred Serbia’s security services into action. They had been watching him for a month and did not want to take the chance of him slipping away.

As the bus passed the Teloptic factory in an industrial part of town, a group of men in civilian clothes boarded and asked if they could talk to Karadzic. He refused. They showed him their badges, told him that they knew who he was, blindfolded and handcuffed him. He went quietly. It was a surprisingly pedestrian end to an extraordinary life on the run.

Karadzic had been a wanted man since 1996, when international arrest warrants were issued for him and Ratko Mladic, the army general who was his partner in the slaughter and “ethnic cleansing” in the 1992-5 Bosnian war that left an estimated 200,000 dead.

Karadzic’s lawyer filed an appeal against his extradition from Serbia just before the deadline at 8pm on Friday, but the former leader is expected to be flown this week to the United Nations tribunal at the Hague to stand trial on charges including genocide. He faces life imprisonment.

In Belgrade there was a muted reaction to the arrest of the one-time Serbian hero. Had he been arrested a decade ago, nationalist Serbs would have poured onto the streets in violent fury, but last week the protests came mainly in the form of disgruntled youths.

Serbs attributed the lack of an outcry to the length of time that had elapsed since the end of the war. Equally, it may just have been that everyone was stunned at the revelation of Karadzic’s life on the run. They had expected something more like a dramatic shootout on a mountain.

No one knew quite how to react when it emerged that he had been selling “human quantum energy” diviners on the internet from a flat in surburban Belgrade, speaking at conferences for alternative health and maintaining an intimate friendship with a rather good-looking younger woman.

THE breakthrough in the hunt for Karadzic came last month from a single telephone call. A Serbian security source said that the call, from Karadzic’s mobile phone, was his “fatal error”.

For years, Serbian and international security services, including Britain’s GCHQ eavesdropping centre, had tapped the telephones of his family, relatives and friends and routinely raided their homes and took them in for questioning as part of a campaign to locate Europe’s most wanted man. That would have been no secret to Karadzic, who had a $5m bounty on his head.

He appears, however, to have become complacent after years in his new skin. At some time in June, according to two Serbian security sources, a telephone call from a mobile number in Belgrade was monitored on the tapped line of one of his relatives. The number was traced to a Dr Dragan David Dabic, living in a small rented apartment in New Belgrade.

Serbian security agents monitored Dabic, following him on his walks in down-town Belgrade and stops at coffee shops and cinemas, visits to his favourite local, the Madhouse, where he would pick up and play the gusle, the traditional Serbian string instrument, and monitoring his telephone calls. It is unclear when they realised that Dabic was in fact Karadzic.

“I think he started to believe himself that he was not Radovan Karadzic,” said Bruno Vekaric, the senior adviser of the war crimes prosecutor in Belgrade. “We’ve been following him for a long time.” Pressed, he agreed it was “about a month”.

Having decided that he could be arrested without posing a security threat and sure he was their man, they decided to act.

“We believed he was moving home,” Vekaric said.

Bozo Prelevic is the former Serbian police minister who served in the first government after the fall of Slobodan Milosevic, the Serbian president who died in prison during his trial at the Hague. Prelevic believes that Karadzic’s success was his downfall.

“He started to believe that he would never be arrested,” said Prelevic, who is still close to Serbian security forces. “He had become overconfident, speaking at conferences. Karadzic could not live without an audience. Calling that relative was his fatal error.”

It may not have proved so had there not been a change in the Serbian government three weeks ago. After elections in May, Boris Tadic, the president, was able to form a new pro-western government with its sights set on membership of the European Union.

Key to that prospect was the EU’s insistence that war criminals would have to be apprehended.

It can be no coincidence also that Karadzic’s arrest came the day after an ally of Tadic’s was installed as head of the state security service.

Indeed, in a more favourable political climate in Bosnia, near the ski resort of Pale above Sarajevo which is still a stronghold of Bosnian Serb nationalism, Karadzic had been able to live openly even after his international arrest warrant had been issued.

Last week, friends and former supporters in the picturesque town said that everyone in Pale knew where Karadzic lived until the beginning of 2000 – except Nato it seems. Its green jeeps carrying troops who were searching for him routinely drove by his not-so-secret safe house, where he was often joined by his wife Ljiljana.

“In the early days there were 40 security people around him,” recalled Milovan Bjelica, a leader in Karadzic’s Serbian Democratic party, last week. “Up until late 1999 it was normal to see him. If I wanted to talk to him about something, he would send a car to pick me up. We would sit and discuss things. We would eat dried fruit and nuts and drink coffee.” Karadzic’s former house, a three-storey, wood-fronted chalet set back from a dirt road behind tall pine trees, was deserted last week. Broken windows let in the slanting rain and pine cones littered the stairs to the french windows on the ground floor, but it must once have been a luxurious residence. Karadzic and Ljiljana also spent time in a small white house outside Pale that they still own.

Bjelica does not think Nato was really interested in capturing Karadzic. “They believed it would endanger their own forces,” he said, a view endorsed by regional experts at the time.

He insists that he did not see Karadzic after he left Pale in early 2000. He said the rumours were that the former Serbian leader was hiding in remote mountain villages, monasteries or even caves.

“But Radovan was not a country man,” Bjalica said. “He needed the city, so I never believed these stories. I thought he was in Russia, or maybe Argentina.”

It was a renewed initiative by international forces that forced Karadzic to abandon Pale. Yet he still managed to see his family. Letters seized by Nato forces during a raid on the marital home as late as December 2002 reveal clandestine visits from Ljiljana while he was on the run. “Now summer is practically here, everybody is going somewhere, so it would not be a problem [to meet],” said one missive.

Later, presumably after they had met and done more than hold hands, he jokes about his wife feeling unwell: “If I was younger, I would hope you were pregnant.”

It is not certain precisely when he moved to Serbia, but it was after Vojislav Kostunica, the hardline president, was elected. It soon became clear that the government was opposed to returning alleged Serbian war criminals to the Hague.

“Karadzic realised he had a better chance of hiding in a forest of people in the big city than in a forest of trees,” said Goran Petrovic, former head of the Serbian intelligence agency. “He said goodbye to the people he knew and came to Belgrade alone. In Belgrade there were people who knew who he was, but they were less than five [in number].”

The first time he showed up as Dabic, the full-blown new age character, was in 2005. Mina Minic, an alternative healer from Belgrade, recalled last week an unusual visitor to the large house he shares with three generations of his family.

“He [Karadzic] came to my house and brought flowers to my wife,” Minic said. “He kissed her hand and asked for me to become his teacher. I remember he was so tall, dressed like he was from a monastery.”

Minic explains that after taking a five-day course in “human quantum energy”, a student is awarded a military-style “rank” based on their talent for the subject. Karadzic was given the rank of general.

He threw himself into the role. His articles in Healthy Life, a Serbian alternative medicine magazine, show a man who was fluent in new age thinking. “It is widely believed our senses and mind can recognise only 1% of whatever exists around us. Three per cent we understand with our hearts. All that remains is shrouded in secrecy, out of the reach of our five senses; however, it is within our reach in the extra-sensory manner,” he wrote in one article.

Minic’s teaching helped to form the cornerstone of Karadzic’s new identity. “Dragan Dabic” rented a small flat on the third floor of a block in Belgrade, decorated with a gaudy glass lampshade and a vase of dried flowers by the window.

Last week Karadzic’s books were still piled on shelves and papers were strewn across a desk next to a fax machine and office desk lamp. On a rail in front of the door hung coats and suits.

Karadzic was a regular customer in the Madhouse bar, where he drank red wine and listened to traditional Serbian music, sitting at a banquette where he could look at the portraits above the bar – of himself and Mladic.

He ate at the Arkidiye, a smart cafe-restaurant nearby. He always sat at the same table, in a screened booth in the corner of the restaurant, where he would eat cheap, simple meals of prebranac (dried beans) or topli obrok (a fish meal).

“He had great charisma,” said the restaurant manager Ziza Stevo. “He was always alone and was not a man you could chat with. I had the impression that he was always fasting. He seemed much taller than Karadzic.”

The revelation that has transfixed Serbia is that while supposedly on the run he enjoyed a close bond with Mila Cicak, an attractive 53-year-old divorcee who lives in an apartment with her university-age son in the Zemun neighbourhood of Belgrade.

Certainly her association with alternative medicine is working; she looks a decade younger than her years. Cicak is coy about how they met and denies allegations in Serbian newspapers that they were having an affair. Kosa Maksimovic, a neighbour who knows Cicak well enough to have lent her money in the past, said Cicak had told her that she went to Dabic for treatment for migraines.

Last week, sitting on a stool in her tiny flat, Cicak looked exhausted from the week’s events. “Of course I didn’t know who he was. Who could know that?” she said. “You can’t imagine how I feel.”

She admits she bought into the strange world of alternative therapy. “I had read about quantum energy, so I knew that Dr Dabic was a great expert. He told me he was working with an autistic child, so I asked to meet the child and work with him. That’s how our co-operation began.”

She says she last saw him on the Friday morning before he was arrested: “We went together to visit the autistic child. He said he needed to travel, that he was going away for two weeks.”

Cicak denies having an affair with Karadzic, but their relationship was clearly close. “They always came together and they would hold hands,” said Tanya, a secretary at Healthy Life. “I thought they were husband and wife.”

Whatever the truth of their relationship, there was no contact last week as the family of Karadzic took over.

Dragan Karadzic arrived at the empty apartment in Belgrade on Thursday to collect his uncle’s belongings. Accompanied by two thickset men wearing baseball caps and leather jackets, he was intercepted by police as he entered the flat.

They demanded to see written permission but, after a heated discussion, they accompanied Dragan into the apartment, allowing him to leave with a pair of battered trainers, a black tracksuit, two dictionaries and some vitamins.

After an angry tirade and threats against journalists, Dragan revealed that his uncle was fasting and needed the vitamins, before racing off in a muddy black Mercedes estate car.

THIS weekend Karadzic was in a Belgrade prison cell with a barred window in the door. He was refusing prison food, but eating hazelnuts and walnuts brought by Luca, his brother, and reading newspapers that all pictured him on their front pages. It is already an outdated image – he has yet again changed his appearance, demanding to be allowed to shave and cut his hair.

This week will be one of recovery from shock in Serbia and legal manoeuvres that will most likely see Karadzic in a new role: that of prisoner in the Hague.

The UN high representative in Sarajevo has denied permission for Ljiljana or his children, Sasa and Sonja, to travel to Belgrade to visit him.

Intelligence agencies are now engaged in the process of piecing together Karadzic’s movements. Attention will turn to Dragan Karadzic, who this weekend told a Serbian newspaper that he had been the only person helping his uncle over the past six years as he hid from justice.

There were clearly some near-misses with the authorities along the way. Yesterday Austrian police said anti-terror units had found a man who looked exactly like Drabic while searching an apartment in Vienna for a murder suspect last year. The man was not connected to the killing and was released without being fingerprinted. Meanwhile, an Austrian newspaper reported that Karadzic had worked in Vienna as a “miracle healer” in 2006, seeing patients in the homes of Serbians living there.

In Serbia, the government has vowed to move on and focus on capturing Mladic, the next most wanted man in Europe. Serbian sources say that will be a different odyssey. The general behind the Srebrenica massacre is never alone and is surrounded by armed bodyguards willing to fight to the death rather than give up their leader.

Rumours that Mladic had given up Karadzic to save himself were just that.

Petrovic said: “Arresting Karadzic was not a big risk. To catch Mladic would be different. Mladic’s bodyguards have orders to kill him rather than let him be captured. Karadzic was a doctor. Mladic is a crazy military man.”

Karadzic’s home for the foreseeable future is already waiting. At the detention centre at the Hague they have prepared an en-suite cell, about 18 metres square, with a television, facilities to cook Balkan specialities with fellow war criminals and a ping-pong table.

If he is to represent himself in court, as he has promised to do, Karadzic will also need one more thing: the bearded guru of human quantum theory could soon be swapping his tomes on alternative health for law books.

Economic shocks may throw 16 mn people into poverty: UN

The Hindu - Indian Newspapers in English Language from eight editions.


Economic shocks may throw 16 mn people into poverty: UN

New York (PTI): Top United Nations experts on Latin America and the Caribbean have warned that global economic shocks could throw some 16 million people of the Americas into extreme poverty, threatening important gains toward achieving the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs) in the region.

Concluding a two-day meeting at the Pan American Health Organization (PAHO), the regional directors of 13 UN agencies promised joint action to ensure continued progress on the MDGs in the Americas over the next two years.

MDGs aim at sharply reducing or eliminating several social and economic ills by 2015. They were set by the world leaders at the Millennium summit at the United Nations.

"Latin America and the Caribbean have made real advances toward fulfilling the MDGs, particularly in areas like infant mortality, hunger and poverty reduction," said PAHO Director Mirta Roses Periago.

"But not all groups have benefited equally, and the new global developments are a real threat to our progress. We need to mobilize and coordinate development action among UN agencies and the region's governments to continue to fight poverty and promote sustainable and equitable development," Periago said.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Molemax: The Church that came to Malabar by Renuka Narayanan, Hindustan Times

Molemax: The Church that came to Malabar by Renuka Narayanan, Hindustan Times

The Church that came to Malabar by Renuka Narayanan, Hindustan Times

Friday, July 4, 2008


The Church that came to Malabar

The Road to Damascus
July 04, 2008
Renuka Narayanan, Hindustan Times

July 04, 2008
First Published: 22:34 IST(4/7/2008)
Last Updated: 02:19 IST(5/7/2008)





A few days in Syria, ‘Land of Prophets’ for the 2000th anniversary of St Paul’s birth made me realise the original eastern character of Christianity. The Eastern Orthodox Church was the main player there, with priests and journalists from Russia, Romania, Bulgaria and of course, from all over the Middle East, especially Bilad-al-Sham (Syria-Lebanon-Jordan, which was one country until the British carved it up).

I found myself having strange, intense and wonderful conversations with many men in black. At first they thought I was a Syrian Christian from India and when they discovered I was Hindu, a hail of questions flew at me about the philosophy, customs, manners and ceremonies. My point, made first at the Maaloula Church, where Aramaic, the language of Jesus, is spoken, and thereafter wherever I could, was this: “In an increasingly mutual world, please let us re-nuance correctly and politely. Let’s not use words like ‘pagan’, ‘heathen’, ‘idol-worshipper’ and ‘unbeliever’. Instead, why not say ‘non-Abrahamic religions’ until we think of a better term to describe Hinduism, Buddhism and the rest of us?” Interestingly, several ‘Abrahamic’ people there seemed open to the idea.

The language of Christian prayer in Syria at the various services I attended was Syriac (Arabic and Aramaic). They were so deeply musical and prayerful that I was moved to tears. Hearing Arabic words like mahabbat (love) and rahman (merciful) made you recall that Christianity was the big religion of that region first.

Back home in Delhi on Friday, I heard the fascinating history of the Syrian Christian community in Kerala from Father Sam Koshy of Kottayam, a Marthoma (Reformist) priest. It’s the tale of ‘direct’ Christianity in India from its land of origin, the Middle East, different from the blonde, blue-eyed colonial English/American version of recent centuries.

As you know, St Thomas (the doubter at the Last Supper) is said to have come to Kerala in 52 CE and founded seven churches. Kerala has a narrative tradition of this small historical presence. Then, in 345 CE, Thomas of Cana (from Syria) brought the Syriac liturgy and rituals to Kerala in a big way.

In 823 CE, another group of Syrian leaders called ‘Mar Sabarisso’ arrived in Kerala. Those were the days of turf wars between the three South Indian Hindu dynasties of Chola, Pandya and Chera. The new Syrian group made friends with the Chera king (of the present Kerala region). In addition to the existing Syrian Christian centre at Kodungallur, they set up, by 825, a supplementary capital at Kollam (Quilon). The Malayali Christian calendar thus begins at 825 CE!

Since the Syrians had a good grasp of Middle Eastern currency and commerce, the Chera king gave them special privileges (‘cheppedu’) as business enablers. With the negotiating skills and social savvy of their Jewish heritage, the Syrians influenced many in Kerala and built up a strong middle class of Malayali Christians.

In the eighth century, the Brahminical community of Kerala got organised and ritualised and in a parallel move, so did the Syrian Christians. Their culture was and is an eclectic mix of Dravidian, Brahmanical, Jewish and Syriac.

Along came the Portuguese Catholic, Vasco da Gama, in 1499 and a process of Latinisation began that climaxed a century later in 1599 with the Portuguese local boss, Alexis de Menezes, organising the Council of Udayanperoor (near Kochi), where all Syriac religious books were summoned and ceremonially burnt: shades of the Inquisition. The benefit was socio-political unity. The flipside was the emotional loss of language.

In 1755, the East India Company came to Kerala and in 1795, the first British Resident moved in. By 1800, the huge British territory of the Madras Presidency was a fact and in 1810, Parvati and Laxmibai, the queens of Travancore who ruled by British grace and favour, awarded ‘Dewan Pattam’ (prime ministership) to a smart gora called Colonel Munro, who set up the secretarial system of administration in Kerala.

In 1816, Munro also founded Kerala’s first theological seminary (with 300 gold coins), to ensure a well-educated clergy. The sambar thickened further with liturgical differences in 1836, 1908 and in the 1950s. In sum, there are now three groups of Syrian Christians: Syriac-Latin (Malankara), Syriac-Greek (Jacobite and Orthodox) and Syriac-Malayalam (Marthoma aka Reformist). It is natural to want to pray your own way and keep your own culture. And under ‘the burning sun of Syria’, you refresh both the particular and the universal with the thought, “Inna lillahi wa inna elaihi raaze’un.” ‘O God, we are Yours and verily unto You we return.’

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

The Eschatological Economy: Time and the Hospitality of God

Resources for Christian Theology
Douglas Knight

The Eschatological Economy: Time and the Hospitality of God
By Douglas H. Knight
Published 2006
Wm. B. Eerdmans
Publishing
Theology, Doctrinal
286 pages
ISBN:0802863159



Introduction to ‘The Eschatological Economy: Time and the Hospitality of God’

This book invites you to hear what Christian theology has to say to the contemporary world. Christian theology is the creature of the Church, and the Church is the creature of God. When the Church lives out of the tradition it has received, and passes on the good things of that tradition, it has something to say about the world. It speaks theologically when it offers coherent and public talk about God and man. The Church has a more generous definition of the world than our contemporary world has of itself. Theology has a more sophisticated idea of time than does the surrounding world. It talks about time in order to say that the world is not yet settled, and will not be settled until it is established in relationship with God. We raise the subject of time to draw our attention to the way things come and go, and to remind us to be realistic in estimating what we know about them. Eschatology is the Church’s term for this form of self-control.


To show what theology has to say to the world I will compare two communities and their respective ways of being. I will contrast the eschatological economy to which the Church points, with what I shall call the economy of modernity. Modernity is nebulous and not easy to define, but these two communities must nevertheless be compared. The community brought into being by speech of God must be contrasted with the many speeches and claims of the world, to show that the world and its speech has a place in the speech of God and that it is now being ushered into that place.

The two central chapters of this book are about the Scriptures and the teaching of the Christian community that arises from them. They are followed by chapters that deal first with the way we talk about modernity, and then with how Scripture and modernity relate. I argue that modern discourse fits into scriptural discourse, not the other way around. The bible contains the world: the world does not absorb the bible. But more than that, the Scriptures invite the world to grow. I hope to show that Christians must live out of the whole bible, that is, as much out of the Old Testament as out of the New. To this end I talk at some length about the whole people of God, and suggest some of the links that must be made between the people of Israel, and the Church and its present practices. I give an account of the action of Jesus Christ that depends on a social account of human action, and suggest that this means that we can avoid religious language and discussions of its justification. I link the work of Jesus Christ to a number of Old Testament discussions, and indicate what difference a more coherent account of Christian doctrine might make to some established readings of Scripture. The doctrine will be more coherent because it will be more informed by hope, that Christian attitude to which eschatology refers.

This book offers a reading of the Christian tradition in confrontation with the central trends of political philosophy. It suggests that this conversation and confrontation is required by any properly theological discussion of modernity. Much current theology is content with an anthropology in which man is already all he ever will be. This makes it sub-Christian. A distinctively Christian theology will say that the individual is a work in progress, not yet a finished product. The individual does not yet have a single mind or settled will, so modern anthropology is impatient and premature. A theological anthropology must sustain a sense of struggle, the outcome of which is not yet known. Will man appear finally at the end of the story, or will other logics and entities prevail over man? Our discussion will include an account of resistance to the gospel which the Christian tradition has variously termed the ‘bondage of the will’, the ‘hardening of hearts’, or the rule of the principalities and powers. What existence this individual mind and will may have is not yet known by the world. It is merely confessed by the Church. In the account in this book, though, man grows into his agency, and into a mature mind, and this account uses the doctrines of Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit to do so.

Talk about the one economy of the God, who is God for man, and will in his own time be God with man, requires two complementary ways of talking about the way things are. We can call these two economies, one of being and one of time. We always need these two parallel accounts, one describing what there is, and the other describing the changes to what there is. This second economy shows that the world has not always been, and will not always be, the way it is now. The question of what duration it has, and of whether it can sustain itself, must always be put to whatever state of affairs we find. It is the task of the Christian community to question every would-be definitive statement about the world.

I discuss the world of modernity under both terms, being and becoming. The claim of the world of modernity is that it is not threatened by change. It has already arrived, and is sure of itself. It presents itself as the two economies of nature and freedom which make up a single economy of being. I will argue that the merging of these two economies is not the implementation of its unity that modernity takes it to be. Rather these two economies just collapse into one economy of nature that cannot support persons, sociality or freedom. The ostensibly public world of political speech and encounter is really just a matter of many private wills, none of which is ready to hear any others. Our expression of our will does not derive from public discourse, and does not promote our public life. The economy of modernity claims to have been brought together by history, but to be no longer subject to change. The individual will does not concede that he is impacted on by other people, because he believes that this admission would threaten his independence. I argue that this economy cannot secure itself against the change imposed on it by God. The Word of God identifies Western being as a failure of action and of relatedness, and thus as a failure of being. We may not yet know whether the outcome of our history will be the emergence of man. The outcome is unknown other than as theological knowledge of the resurrection and the arrival of one man, Jesus Christ, with God.

* * *

The first chapter of this book sets out a theory of persons in constitutive relationship. Neither things nor being is fundamental. Persons are fundamental. I set out two accounts of the person. One of these is natural, in that we understand persons on the analogy with things. The second I shall call doxological. It is in this second account that persons are fundamental, so we cannot understand them as sorts of things. The concept of person prevents the reduction of the person to being accounted for by nature, or by power or by will.

Being and doing are one and the same thing. The work of each creature is the being of all other creatures. Their work is not only the well-being of all other creatures, but their very being. But there is more at issue even than this. It is not only the being but the freedom of other creatures that is our purpose. The freedom of all creatures is the task of all other creatures, and it is sustained only by live relationship with all other creatures. This nexus of relationship which sustains the freedom of each, is itself sustained by the ongoing relationship of Creator with the creation that he has made and now maintains. Our Creator intends not that we merely are, but that we live, that we become animate and vocal, and able to respond to one another. He intends that we participate in one another’s formation, and do so freely and willingly. An account of man must therefore include an account of the place and work into which he is to grow, and so of the ongoing co-labour of creation. The perfection of creation is dependent on the finished and perfected freedom and personhood of man. Man does not yet have freedom. His freedom depends on God’s determination not to cease from his work until man has grown into that freedom. The freedom of man is the task of God, then, and very subordinately, it is the task into which God introduces man. Under God, we bring one another into being. This participative ontology is a philosophical break-through. Perhaps we should say that would be a break-through, if it was taken up by what now passes for philosophy. Why should contemporary philosophy continue to insist that it can only accept an individualist monist ontology, rather than a pluralist, or better, a triune, one?

The second chapter offers an account of how a holy community comes into being. It sets out on what will at first seem a new tack. Instead of talking about directly about holiness, it deals in quite general terms with how we change and grow. The discussion is not in terms of familiar religious language of sanctification but in a new, ostensibly quite secular, vocabulary. This allows us to confess that we are not the sole agent of our own being. We are not self-made. Though to some extent we grow each other, we do not grow ourselves up. This discussion of our formation shows what resources there are for talking about ourselves when we do not consider ourselves the sole agent of our being. This will allow to talk about becoming holy in terms of a growth of competence – in the life that God shares with us. The rest of this book depends on what we say in this chapter about our formation and upbringing, which I refer to by the traditional term, paideia.

This account of change is framed in terms of learning. Learning accounts for the relationship between Israel’s elect being and her holy becoming. It relates the doctrine of sanctification to training, law and various other intermediary forms that change through time in response to the requirements of the learning community. It shows that the secular concept of history intends to open a gap between God and his action, to take God’s action out of his hands to form a secular history. The people of Israel, however, keep narrative in conversation with law, each disciplining the other, which allows Israel to refuse this foreign secular history along with all such concepts of nature and fate. God fashions for himself a people. This fashioning includes his own commentary on this intrinsically linguistic work, and this commentary he also shares with that people. The Christian community now has that commentary in the form of Scripture. I argue that we need to make explicit the schemas and cosmology of modernity; each schema should be under the control of all the others, so none is allowed to predominate. They must not be collapsed into a simple contrast of interiority and exteriority, or mind and world. Such a contrast has resulted in the predominance of epistemology over issues of performance and formation. We exist in a complex relationships of voluntary and involuntary action which we enforce on others, and oblige others to enforce on us, which always puts our particularity and our social life under threat.

The third chapter argues that the doctrine of the trinity does not allow us to separate God from his work, either from his activity, or from its result. This grammar of God’s work is not the function of some outside logic, so God is not called to account for his work in terms not of his own making. God’s choice of a people is his opening move in his action towards mankind. God chooses a new exempla to determine what man is to be. He supplies this new man with all that he needs, so that he does not lack anything, and this man does represent the intentions of God for a new humanity. God is speaker and listener, commander and obeyer, judge and amongst those judged. He is also the means of this speaking and listening, commanding and obeying, and the language spoken, the medium shared and judgement made. The chapter relates the doctrines of creation and reconciliation and anthropology with an account of the worship of Israel as the work that forms a holy people who obediently receive the world from God. For Israel-theology and creation-theology to support each other would involve a recovery of the insights of an earlier theology in which the creature and creation become subordinate actors in their own making.

A trinitarian and Irenaean view of Israel’s anthropology puts man in touch with the creation of which he is member. Man is hosted by God and brought up by him into the practice of God’s hospitality. He is made mediator and high-point of this creation. This relationship of man to world is made visible by the act of sacrifice in which man is set over creation. This event does not rely on any mechanism, but is the outworking of the relationship of God to man. The elect and baptised community learns this relationship by being brought up in the conceptuality of relationship, and of missing relationship, known to the bible respectively as righteousness and sin. In her political cosmology Israel understands that she is mandated by God to rule his creation with him. Adam is set over creation as its lord; Israel is Adam-in-waiting. By her action Israel transforms what we do from our estimation of it, to God’s estimation of it. Israel undoes the stalled rival work of old Adam, and re-binds it into the living and lasting creation of God. Israel deconstructs the myth of the single agent in combat with his fate. That the Father and Son share a single action, means that the Son is able to face and oppose the world, to copy and imitate it, and so, in gathering it up and re-playing it, to transform and redeem the world. A discussion of Old Testament themes of seed, blood and sonship demonstrates that biology is one proper idiom of God’s spiritual generosity toward his people. We see that there is no need to treat the spiritual and material as though they were opposites. Instead we can say that materiality is derived from the Spirit, and that, properly located and employed by the Spirit, it functions spiritually without being any the less created materiality. It is good to be a creature.

The fourth chapter argues that the creation is the place and medium by which we are made holy. This medium is the Holy Spirit, in whom we are presented to the Son and, in him, we are made present to each other. We are being integrated into the person of the Son. As we learn his character and action, we become members of his body. There is a place and a role for us. The Holy Spirit adopts all creation as the medium within which he gives us the being of the Son. The event of the cross, in which God and man meet, is our baptism us into this new medium. In it he acts on us, without trespassing against our integrity as creatures, to produce that transforming switch-work by which the greater freedom-reproducing capability of the Spirit is settled upon the people of the Son. The Holy Spirit supplies the biological and material modalities by which he will establish us as members of the Son and bring us to the Father. The Spirit creates our increased embodiment, not disembodiment. I review a selection of biblical and systematic scholarship in search of a conceptuality in which to say that this nation becomes holy. In conversation with it, I sketch an Adam theology in which man has a work and a place, and in them, freedom.

The fifth chapter points to the responsibilities of theology and so to the range of audiences and conversations which theology should engage. It asks what is at stake in accounts of secularisation. We must decide how to assess the disappearance of theological accounts of mediation, of the secularisation of the West and arrival of modernity. I suggest these are narratives of the fall, the separation of man from God, but that unless related to some theological concepts, such as paideia, they are no more than stories. I attempt to arbitrate between accounts of secularisation. I examine accounts of the changing ontology and epistemology which made God one being amongst others, and which removed the need for the scriptural and liturgical mediation of theological knowledge, and the training of the community that could acquire it. I consider accounts of the seventeenth century divorce of nature and culture, and of body and action, along with the changing concept of religion, cultivation of interiority and modern story of the rationalisation and disenchantment of the world. I suggest that theological discourse must include an account of the medium in which the theological account is rendered, and that under a number of definitions the public and political world must be that medium. For much of the theological tradition, Aristotle provided the complex conceptuality for this account. From the seventeenth century this gave way to a simpler conceptuality that made discussion of man as creature nested in nature, or as work in progress, more difficult. Nevertheless we must provide such a complex account, and there are always resources for doing so.

All intellectual effort is in the service of life. It is therefore about comparing different definitions of life. Since we have to compare ways of life, it is important that we say how different these are. We really are engaged in saying that one way of being human is very considerably better than other ways. This does entail that they can be compared. The best way to compare them is to maximise, not minimise, the differences between them. We can compare life with God, with life without God.

In chapters five and six I examine a central myth of the modern West. The myth is that the West was once religious, but now it is secular, and that it is now difficult to talk about God. These assertions must be contradicted. It is not that the world is becoming secular, but that the world is always secular by definition. The world always resists hearing the gospel, but no more so now than before. The gospel encounters and confronts other claims and messages. We should call these other claims ‘pagan’, for we can then see that there is a real contest of ideas, because of ways of life, and this makes intellectual debate worthwhile.
Most theological discussion is worried about the problem of religious language. This is because it has not tackled modern ontology critically enough. Christian theological language is fully able to deconstruct the language moderns regard as secular and use to describe themselves, chiefly the language of modern anthropology and psychology. Only theology that cares for its own conceptual resources can show that this belief in secularity is dramatically mistaken.

The central claim of secularisation is that religion is trying to tell us that there are two worlds, and that secularity knows that there is only this world. This is entirely untrue. The case is almost the reverse. Secular modernity is itself two worlds, and one of nature, and one of human action. But these two worlds are defined in opposition (as though set for a fight to the death), and so they are never established. These two worlds are defined and created by the world of human action that consists in dividing one world into two, but does not then saying that it is simultaneously combining these two worlds into one – itself. It only understands that it divides and separates, not that it unites them, as it is itself united. It does not acknowledge that what it divides always merges together again, that it cannot make any separation or distinction stay where it is put. It cannot establish its action. Nothing it holds apart, stays apart. Rather it comes together, and it comes together as to make that very separating creature, man. Man prefers to keep these not only separate actions, but also separate economies which know nothing of each other. He is in denial, preferring not to acknowledge that he not only divides and creates, but that he is divided and created.

We can sum up three of the themes of this book like this:

1. Christian theology is not only about ideas, but also about life, practice and action. Ideas serve to improve our practice. Christian doctrine is not therefore a merely internal discussion.
2. Christian theology is about the establishment of plurality and community. This starts with the Christian community that is the beginning of plurality established on earth. Plurality, that inaugurates Church, is the act of God.
3. Christian theology shows that there is a contest between two ways of life. One of these ways of life is witnessed to by the Christians, and represented by Christian doctrine. The other is that way of life actually lived by our contemporaries. It is only very tenuously represented by any contemporary system of ideas, because our contemporaries don’t have any means of their own by which to establish who they are. Nonetheless they have the Christians to point to what they can be.

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Douglas Knight: Resources for Christian Theology

Resources for Christian Theology
Douglas Knight
« Christ, religion and ‘other religions’
The Son and the Spirit in the Providence of God – John Zizioulas on time and communion »
Father, Son and Holy Spirit – Colin Gunton and the doctrine of God

There are just two theological tasks. One is to say what Christian doctrine is, and the other is to offer it to the world. The second depends on the first. First, Christian doctrine must be done for its own sake, just as we worship God just for the sake of it, for joy. We wonder at the creation of God and we express that wonder, despite ourselves. Doctrine is likewise doxological.

Colin Gunton was a student of the Christian doctrine of God. It is true that he was at centre of a revival of trinitarian theology and rediscovery of the Holy Spirit. But trinitarian theology is simply Christian theology, and theology is Christian when it understands that God may be known, only, as Father, and he may be known in this way only by the Son, and those the Holy Spirit includes in the Son. Any other account is the theology of another religion. Colin Gunton was never taken in by the belief that something more sophisticated than doctrine is just around the corner. He remained intrigued and delighted by that whole vast package, and only as we are so too will we have anything to contribute, to the church, to the university and to the world. The first responsibility of the Christian is to learn their own tradition, and the second is to tell the waiting world what they find there. Only if we know our own tradition, do we have something to say.

1. The doctrine of God
What is the Christian doctrine of God? It is first that God is love, a communion, of persons. These persons, Father, Son and Holy Spirit are one: their plurality is as fundamental as their unity. Manyness originates in them: their communion brings all other societies into being. God alone can distinguish each one of us from all others. He intends that we also will also be able to see the real otherness of each other person, and so we will become content with the lasting manyness of his creation.

Second, God is communicative and articulate. The Father speaks and the Son hears and responds and their communion is complete. They intend that we join their conversation: they address us, and so we come into being and come alive and attentive to others.

The Church makes its confession in the face of all contrary claims. The chief of these is that ‘there is no god’, and thus that we are under no authority and are accountable to no one. If this is so we do not have to attend to others, and those who suffer our exercise of power have no one to whom they can appeal over our heads. This makes us tyrants, who are unable to concede the real otherness of other people.

The Church makes the good confession that the Lord is God. Because God is truly other than us, he can enable us to become finally other to one another. I will not finally be able to make you just a function of me. Christ will establish you independently of me, so that there will finally be you and me, a society and a plurality.

The Christian doctrine of God has to be offered and argued for amongst all the other accounts, not only of God, but also of man and the world. Christian doctrine answers the claim that the world once believed in God but that it may do so no longer. The first consequence of the Christian confession of God is that we are not God, so we are discharged from the exhausting though self-imposed duty to make ourselves god. The Christian gospel demythologizes other gospels; it is itself critical reason, because it refers to the truth given in the judgment of God. The continued existence of the world depends on God’s assessment of it as worth waiting for. The Church is the demonstration that this is still the assessment, and good judgment, of God. The secret of being human, is hidden with God. Only in communion with God, we can be human, together, with other humans.

2. Creatures and persons
The doctrine of God gives us the truth of man. But it cannot be cashed out into a theory about man. In other parts of the Church they say that God is mystery, by which they mean he is knowable only to extent he makes himself known. The corollary is that because man is the creature of God, man is a mystery too. We can really know other people, but we cannot master them because they belong not in the first place to us, but to God. But we cannot be human by being just-human, without God. It is good news that the human is the creature of God. Now what can we say about this creature?

Human nature and commonality
Christian theology identifies Christ in terms of a human nature and a divine nature, and assumes that these two natures are pretty constant qualities. But what stability does human nature have? What do humans have in common that makes them all of one nature? How does human nature hold us together? In the long run nature is not a strong enough force to do this, for we rather we fail to hold onto one another, but separate and drift apart. The fall threatens this human nature.

But if we refer our discussion of human nature to christology, we can say that the Son holds all men together, and gives them the unity that they do not otherwise have. If we understand ‘nature’ as what is held in common, divine nature means what Jesus Christ shares with the Father and the Spirit, and human nature means what Jesus Christ has in common, first with the people of Israel and then, through them, with the human race as a whole. The human ‘commonality’, the human race, does not exist without the divine ‘commonality’, which is that communion that God is. The future of the human commonality is participation in the divine communion: when we participate in God’s life we shall be properly human, able to say gladly that we are not God but are his creatures.

So it is not simply human nature that makes Christ human. In taking what passed for our nature Christ has given it its unity, and the Father has received him in this creaturely form, and this is the reason why Christ is the person in whom we may all truly be human. The Son, through his relationship with the Father, is determinative of all the other relationships Christ is in. A person is determined by one significant other. Only he who is not dependent for his own identity on anything in creation, can sustain the otherness of all creatures. For this reason Colin Gunton decided that the one who is determinative of all other persons, is the Father.

Persons and plurality
Colin Gunton insisted that it is the difference between God and the world that is fundamental. But rather than repeat what he said about the doctrine of creation, I am going to demonstrate its significance by relating it to two other concerns of his, the relationship of the one and the many, and the two hands of the Father, the Son and the Spirit. I will suggest that the difference between the Church and the world is analogous to the difference between God and creation. The Church is irreducibly different from the world. This difference is not a matter of nature: it is God’s act, for us, and this makes a difference to the context of Christian doctrine.

The Western intellectual tradition, ancient and modern, assumes that one thing comes before many things, so unity is more fundamental that plurality. It assumes that existence is basic, and only once our existence is sorted out we may enter relationships, be members of a community and so act with some brief freedom.

The Christian account says that, because three divine persons are the condition on which other things come into being, there is not only plurality at the end, but there is plurality at the beginning. Oneness does not exist before manyness. This is the revolutionary thought that Colin Gunton started to pursued in The One the Three and the Many. He made the case that Christianity represents plurality, and that modernity fails to represent plurality: despite all its rhetoric about diversity, all the political agendas of modernity represent a leveling and homogenisation. More than that, modernity is in part a reversion to some ancient metaphysics. As an ideology, modernity fails to understand the goodness of the present. Modernity assumes that the Christian religion represents a protest against plurality and diversity. So which best represents the claims of plurality – modernity, or Christianity? To answer this we have to compare their accounts of being human, starting with the Christian account.

3. Becoming human
It is good to be a creature of God. But it is not enough just to say that we are human. We also have to say that we have to become human, and this becoming human takes time. To be human means being free, and being free for others, which involves giving one another the recognition and service we need. The acknowledgment that we are creatures, able to serve and take responsibility for one another, makes us free. To become the creature who can make this acknowledgment requires an apprenticeship. Christian discipleship is this apprenticeship. One human being has completed this apprenticeship, and graduated: the ascent of man has truly taken place, in Christ. This insight Colin Gunton attributed to Irenaeus.

The man who comes into relationships with all others, is also the man through whom each of us may come into relationship with all other persons. Until we have been brought into such connection, we are only fragmentarily human; partiality, division and death still hold us apart. Who is the person who can, forever, sustain relationships with every other person, so that through him, everyone may present to every other, and so all humanity be both many and one? The one who is able and prepared to mediate between each and everyone of us would be our universal servant. Christ has decided that his service is not imposed on him, so his freedom is not freedom from us, but for us. Though he serves us, he does so freely, not under our compulsion. He does not regard any part of our world, however low, as too lowly or too alien for him. In all his serving, he is entirely free and entirely lord.

Christ makes us present to one another. He does not simply gives us what we lack, for such a unilateral imposition would not allow us to take it and remain free. Christ not only gives, but waits until we consent to receive one another and desire greater participation in his communion with all others. It is the Father’s judgment and approval of him that makes Christ the real and complete man. So we have arrived at a christological anthropology. We will need to say something about the role of the Spirit in it. First though let us see what happens when christology does not shape our anthropology, and pneumatology plays no part in our christology. What happens when humanity, Christ and the Spirit are confined within separate jurisdictions?

4. Doctrine is good for the university
The Christian faith is a preparation for life together with other creatures of God. It is an apprenticeship by which we learn to take responsibility and so become persons freely in communion with others. Our ability to learn this freedom is essential to being human. We may become free and mature by learning from, and accepting the proper restraint of, others, mediated by the accumulated expertise of generations. We become mature by becoming the students of a tradition.

Though centuries, the Christian faith has encountered many other accounts and developed a comprehensive account of its claims. It is harder to put a name to what is not Christian: whether we call it ‘modernity’ or ‘secularism’, it does not appear as a explicit free-standing tradition, but simply as a protest and refusal of the Christian tradition. Nevertheless it is for the Christians to give an account of this non-Christian tradition, and show where it stands in relationship to other traditions.

Great traditions teach us how to grow up into responsibility and freedom. Without them we remain in an adolescent resentment, always in crisis. The contemporary university is in such a crisis. It is a paradoxically anti-intellectual place in which it is not only the Christian tradition that is despised but also other traditions from which the university has come. But we have to take the Humanities seriously, and remind them that it is a generous thing to offer accounts of what it is to be human. We have to remain in conversation with the founders of the Academy, Plato and Aristotle, and all their successors and traducers, in order to flourish. We have to say that the university cannot take the virtues and practices that hold good in the Church, and bring persons up into maturity within that specific community, and treat them as applicable generally, across the board. The teaching of the Church – Christian doctrine – it is not just another way of saying what everyone already knows; it is not general knowledge.

The doctrine of God is a doctrine of the Church, so the university has to explore this doctrine in partnership with the Church and dialogue with its tradition. If the university attempts to wrest its doctrine away from the Church, that doctrine ceases to be Christian. When we do not make it clear that the Church that mediates, and is mediated by, Christian teaching, this other, undeclared, community, of the academics, puts itself where the church should be. If the church is not itself, the university becomes a church, though of course without any idea how to be so.

5. Modernity
The concept of the individual is not modern. It is a Christian doctrine: the Church confesses that each of us stands before God, his unique and irreplaceable creature. This confession relates to a promise: Christ will finally enable us to be both unique and together, particular persons, in communion. Our individuality arises within the personal relationships and mutual subordination of the communion of Christ.

But this teaching about the particularity of persons can also be wrenched out of the complete package that makes it Christian. At different times all the various elements in the Christian package have been extracted and re-combined to make an alternative theology with a substandard account of man. In that package we call ‘modernity’ the individual has to assert himself against all others, against society and its institutions, in order to be himself. He has to establish his own freedom, by carving out some deep timeless interior place, in which he can finally be free of all others and alone.

It is the responsibility of the Christian theologian to make the ideology of modernity explicit by describing its place in the history of ideas. This is Colin Gunton’s mission in The One the Three and the Many. ‘The hope is for an engaged theology to counter the ideology of disengagement that is the mark of so much modernity’ (p.168). Among the thinkers who feature in his history are Hobbes, Spinoza, Descartes, Locke, Rousseau, Hume, Kant, Hegel and Nietzsche, some of them hoping to re-launch a simplified gospel, other ferociously trying to rule the whole subject out. They represent this non-Christian tradition, outlined in that book in terms of Parmenides and Protagoras, in which the individual does not concede that he gives or receives anything in his encounter with others. This individual is already entirely himself before he comes into relationship with his peers, and therefore does not really need them or the learning they represent. As a result he does not need a tradition, and indeed the imperative laid on him is to exert himself against all such traditions, and thus against religion.

Perhaps the greatest single advocate of this tradition, that is in denial about being a tradition, is Kant. Kant believes that we must refuse every externally-given definition. We must place ourselves under no authority but our own. This makes it difficult to see how we can learn anything from one another.

Kant has promoted of the individual over society and all the practices of social formation. His timelessly independent individual lives as a society of one. He regards the world and body with disdain. The cerebral disembodiedness of this individual has become the criterion of critical reason, so all the Humanities, in which we ostensibly discuss traditions of thought about what it is to be human, are hollowed out by this distaste for every particular tradition of thought. Kant’s heirs have appointed themselves policeman of the public square to prevent the Christian tradition in particular from being heard in public. Pagan thought assumes that the ultimate freedom is interior, in a place without other people. These thinkers first taught the church to believe that it was merely a re-statement that freedom is interior, and then that its faith was interior and not open to public discussion, and thus that is was unable to compete intellectually in the public realm.

In The One the Three and the Many Colin Gunton argued that modernity is a kind of denigration of the goodness of the present, of body and of other people. It is a gnosticism, and so our particular form of a timeless temptation. But it is not the one thing it claims to be. It is not new. It appears new to us because we refuse to admit our own origins, preferring to imagine that we have sprung out of nowhere. Modernity is in a tearing hurry. In fact, hurry is all it is. It is less a worldview than a mindset – an impatience. Inasmuch as moderns understand this forward movement as good, and as progress, they believe that it is the past, and in particular that wickedly conservative force the Christian religion, that is holding us back.

In the modern account we are minds miserably trapped in bodies. Bodies are not us, we think. We cannot finally reach one another, or participate in one another’s very being, but that our freedom is freedom from one another and is therefore interior. We hope to escape our present situatedness by burrowing into our heads. The solitary self regards itself as the only real thing, and does not wish to be inconvenienced by anything not itself. In the modern conception, the past is an unfortunate place, so we become ourselves by leaving it behind.

6. Tradition
To give a Christian theological response to this modern anthropology, we must return to the issue of plurality from another angle, that of persons in constitutive relation. The Christian confession that we are body and soul suggests that we really can know one another (because we are present to one another as our bodies), but that we are not exhaustibly known to one another, because I can only grasp your present, not your past or future. We live out of our past; we source ourselves from it: it represents the vast range of possibilities from which the present emerges. The past is, as it were, our body. We cannot step out of it, for we are not ourselves without it. We are not minds that may disembark from this vehicle, for without our body we are not able to approach others at all.

Christians remember that many people make up the past. They do this remembering formally in the eucharist, where they also say that we may not regard them as finally past, because Christ has the power to release persons from the past and give them a future. Christ has the power to distinguish us from one another and to make us a plurality. Christ has come out to look for us and because he thinks we are worth finding and taking to the Father, we are indeed so. If he takes us to the Father, then all our particularity will indeed finally exist before God, and all threats to it will be gone. A pneumatological christology gives us an account of communion and of plurality, which we call an ‘ecclesiology’.

7. Who can raise the Son?
Doctrine which is Christian is sanctified through the many centuries of Christian experience. The Son and are the Spirit are with the Father: their communion is complete, long before we come on the scene. Christ is in history, but the Spirit is not, so Christ is, and is not, identifiable by history. The Spirit is always there to support the Son and to be the go-between between him and us. Only the communion sanctified, by the Spirit, can say that Christ is not buried by history, like all other men. Only the one who is raised, is able to raise others, and the corollary is that he has mobilized a sanctified communion for us. In Colin Gunton’s words ‘Just as the Spirit frees Jesus to be himself, so it is with those who are ‘in Christ’, that, is in the community of his people’ (p. 183).

But the hermeneutics which are not shaped by the church cannot make our doctrine Christian. If Christ is without the Holy Spirit he is merely an individual, and for us a figure in history. So New Testament studies imagines we will find Jesus in the first century simply by distinguishing him from all other first century persons. Any historical discipline will assume that Christ is sealed in history, trapped like a lone miner deep down there in the past. Perhaps they no longer hope to bring him out whole, but each historical science intends to recover some part of his body. If Christ is without the Holy Spirit, he will need assistance to meet us, and our hermeneutical apparatus must provide that assistance. We are then the ground of our encounter with Christ and Christian doctrine must be aided by these ancillary disciplines.

If we construct a christology without the Spirit, Christ is an individual, without his people, and confined to the past, and so will all his people be. They will need a resurrection, but so will he, and so the past will have the last word about them both. But it is the other way around: it is not Christ but we who is held by the confines of time.

Doctrine that is Christian teaches that Christ is always with the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit can hold him out of our reach, so we cannot individualise him, that is, make ourselves the means of his particularity. Christ cannot be separated from the whole people of God. Christ makes himself known through that communion that the Spirit sanctifies for the purpose, that specific community, the saints and teachers of the church. This requires scholarly attention to the Church, its teachers, its worship, its sacraments, gifts and offices and the whole Constantinian shooting match.

Each of the teachers recognised by the Church represents some bundle of skills that we need now. They are Christ’s skills, and the teachers of the church are the mode in which Christ supplies them and teaches us how to use them. The Spirit dispenses the teaching of the Church to us through slow process of our sanctification, which involves not so much inert data or contextless skills but a specific set of sanctified relationships. The saints and teachers that make up the Christian tradition are not among the undifferentiated dead, for the Holy Spirit has distinguished them from all others, and pressed them into our service.

The Holy Spirit is the ground of our encounter, not us, so our meeting is enabled by the communion that is God, and not the communion that is man-without-God. This brings us to what must be Colin Gunton’s most famous phrase, the concept of mediation. Who will assist at this reconciliation between God and man? There on the one side is Christ, there on the other side are we. Now who can prevent us from panicking and fleeing if Christ takes even one step towards us? Any step he takes will surely be an outrage to our freedom. Who can be go-between in this encounter? First, can we help? Can we help him help us? If we can help, which of us? If we plump for all of us, the baptised and the unbaptised equally, the choice of who gets to help is actually made by those in universities who will choose the hermeneutists of the moment.

Many unsanctified go-betweens offer their services: Protagoras, Kant, Hegel and Nietzsche are those who get a mention in ‘The One, the Three and The Many’. Each of them is offering to help Christ reach us. If Christ needs even the slightest help from them, he is no good to us. Many spirits want to help us reach Christ, but we must decline their offer.

If Christian doctrine is the teaching of the Church, the Spirit who the church into existence is the go-between. One only is holy, and he only can provide the mediation. One way in which he carries out this role is by assigning a particular set of hermeneutists to serve us, that authorized panel of experts whom we call the saints and teachers of the Church. The one Spirit gives us his servants, the sanctified, the many spirits made obedient: let us name a representative canon again – Irenaeus, Athanasius, Basil, Augustine, Luther, Calvin, Barth – the Fathers, the Reformers, even a couple of contemporaries. These are those made translucent to Christ for us, and though none of them is sufficient, and the place of each in our canon is still provisional, we must receive them as the gift of the Spirit and the whole mediation of God for us. If we do not name Irenaeus, Barth and company as our explicit panel of experts by which we unpack Christian doctrine, Parmenides and Kant will remain our implicit panel of experts. If we do not name these saints as the gift of God for our good, then these other unholy spirits will certainly propel the church and its doctrine to places we don’t want to go. Now it is entirely necessary to remain in dialogue with Parmenides and company, but it is a disaster if we think we can replace the elect hermeneutists who make up the Christian apprenticeship with any others.

The sanctified disciplines of the Church represent a far more sophisticated hermeneutics than is available to our secular colleagues. The Church is the communion sanctified by the Spirit for the world, and the saints and teachers are sanctified for the church, and so dedicated to the task of keeping the church distinct from the world – for the world’s sake. The Church must hear its own sanctified teachers, and it must teach what it receives from them. The Church is the mediation, spiritually discerned and received, that the Spirit provides by which we can be brought to Christ. The teaching of Church, its saints and teachers, must be taught for its own sake. It must also be offered to the public arena, and examined and tested there. On occasion the Church can learn some lesson from the world in the gospel that it had neglected. The church needs the university to test its teaching, and the university needs the huge ambition of the Christian doctrine of man in order to raise the ambition of the humanities.

8. Christian doctrine here and now
We have to demonstrate to the Church that it needs theology. We have to persuade the churches that the Christian life requires an interaction with the whole Christian tradition, and that to flourish long-term the Church needs to be fed by all the doctors of the Church.

We did not get the churches in London to fund a single lectureship in evangelical or Reformed theology, or even Catholic, or Orthodox, or any kind of theology that could not be turned into history or hermeneutics. Now everyone is in hurry to move on from doctrine of God to what they are sure is more urgent. But even ‘ministry’ is not more urgent than the doctrine of God. Despite lots of individual involvement in ministry, we have not yet given a theological academic account of the Church, worship or Church order, and demonstrated that ecclesiology is a theological discipline. We have to show that the doctrine of God not only demands ecclesiology but it generates it, and can keep it from disintegrating into religious sociology. Whilst we studying and teaching the doctrine of God we should also have to make the institutional arrangements by which we can continue to do so. When we do not do this the Christian tradition can be bumped out of the university whenever a Humanities appointments committee feels like it.

Colin Gunton demonstrated that the Spirit give us many teachers, and that all their lesson is Christ. He showed us that Irenaeus is the gift of the Spirit to us by which we can identify the gnosticism of our own age, that Athanasius is the gift who shows us that Christ is unity of God with man, God with his creation, against the dualism of our age. Each teacher represents for us a set of tools by which we can assess diagnose the present ascertain our position. Colin Gunton tooled up with Calvin, Owen, Coleridge, Irving and Barth. We have to tool up too.

If the Lord is faithful, he will give his church teachers. So let us ask which British contemporaries could Church possibly receive as the gifts from God for another generation? Lesslie Newbigin, Colin Gunton, Tom Torrance, Oliver O’Donovan, Tom Wright, Tom Smail. Tell the evangelical churches that these are not distant intellectual giants, but friends, co-workers in the gospel, our lot. It is unacceptable that their books are not found in the bookshop at HTB or New Wine. The Church must nourish itself from teachers such as these, and must know that it continues to produce teachers. What makes these the apostles for us? It is because each of them refers us onwards to the rest of the saints, Reformers and Fathers.

Yet our churches import their spirituality very unselectively from the States. They suffer from the same short-termism as modernity, and so are unable to help it. Is our charismatic church really just endearingly fluffy-headed? Is the emergent movement really just ‘another way’ of ‘doing’ church? Or is this the Church, hollowed out by modernity, refusing to take the deposit of faith entrusted to it for modernity’s sake, and so handing Christ away?

I believe that the next generation of ministers will have to be more seriously proofed against the battering they will receive, so they should be dunked more deeply in the font, not less deeply. The Church that hopes to thrive will have to know this and pay for it. I see the Church still casting around for secular sources of permission to say what it has to say. The Church must stop looking round for other sources of authority. It has to realise that it is the humanities, the university and public reason that have lost connection with good traditions and that it is they that are suffering a crisis. The church itself suffers no such crisis, for it has the resources of Christ mediated to us by the Spirit and his communion. We have to tell our leaders that the Church has the authority of Christ, and that this is spelled out for us by the doctrine of the Church.

Let me re-cap –
The doctrines of the Son and Spirit are the way to talk about God. God is the way to talk about being human. Keeping theology theological is the way to offer the best, the true, definition of human being, and make the best contribution to the humanities. The church must teach theology. The Church needs the testing of the world in order to remain a good witness, so its theology must be tested and taught, also, in the university. Theology cultivates a memory and tradition which keeps our intellectual ambitions high, so theology is good for the university. But the Church cannot please the world, nor should it try to. The best thing the church can do for the world is be distinct. It does this by knowing its own teaching. This takes time and patience, which we are likely to give it only when we understand how important it is. The contemporary Church is afraid that it is intellectually inferior, but it has no need to be. Christian traditions are more sophisticated than secular traditions. Modernity is short-termism, Christian discipleship is long-termism. Finally back to the theology.

9. The two hands of the Father
Colin Gunton was intrigued by Irenaeus’ insight that the Son and the Spirit are the two hands of the Father. Why is Christ accompanied at every significant moment by the Holy Spirit? Why is it by the Holy Spirit that Christ rose from the dead? (Romans 8.11) Why didn’t Christ raise himself, for being God, death could never have held him?

The Spirit distinguishes the Son from all others and thus makes him an ‘individual’. The individuality of the Son is the act of the Spirit. Likewise Christ’s freedom to be for us, and so his unity with us is the act of the Holy Spirit. Christ is free to be for us, without reservation, so he alone is able to mediate directly between every two human beings. ‘It is not therefore something which holds things together, but someone: the one through whom, in the unity of the Father and the Spirit, all things have their being.’ What is there between you and me that enables us to be together and yet remain distinct? First there is God, directly. Secondly and subordinately there is the whole economy and provision of God, which the form of the very particular community of those sanctified for our benefit – the saints and teachers of the church. Our hermeneutist is the Holy Spirit and all he sanctified for the purpose. These saints and teachers are truly enabled by the Spirit to serve us by mediating between us and Christ; they do not come between us and Christ, for they are not saints for one nanosecond apart from the Holy Spirit. There is no christology without pneumatology, and all pneumatology must be expressed in terms of Christ, together with his people. The Spirit oversees the whole Christology department, of which all the sciences of humanity are a sub-department.

Why didn’t Christ raise himself from the dead by his own power? Christ has come within the bounds which we inhabit, and has broken them and leads us out of them. But it is not simply Christ’s (divine) exercise of power that saves us, but his power exercised in service that allows freedom. He exercises his freedom in waiting for each one of us.

The Holy Spirit puts the question to Christ of whether he is ready to wait, specifically, for you, and for me. Then Christ can make the choice freely at each moment, whether he is indeed willing and ready to be for you, for me, so that we may indeed become particular and unique creatures. So he also waits until each of us decides that we will follow. We have to want to be free of death and so pray to exchange one master, death, for the other, Christ, and so the Holy Spirit enables to call Christ. Because Christ holds out this life and gives each of us all the time we need to take it from him, it is not a unilateral imposition. We do not lose, but rather gain, our identity in accepting it, and in time his act for us becomes our act too.

The Spirit assists Christ with this long wooing. He interprets us to him and him to us. The Spirit humbles himself before each one of us and he is able to outlast the resistance each of us puts up. For our sake he subordinates himself to every other hypostasis, so that we can receive them, and doing so without having to receive them, and so without coercion. Because the Holy Spirit subordinates himself to Christ and to us, he leaves no trace of himself. But having prepared the place for us, he withdraws just we enter, like a good servant, so that it may be entirely ours. It is not the case that the Holy Spirit has been wrongly subordinated or devalued by the theological tradition, for he subordinates himself.

The Holy Spirit makes the communion of God visible here on earth, by faith. The Spirit makes this communion present as many persons who, being sanctified as his witnesses, can never be absorbed into the world. The difference of the Church from the world, is the means by which God prepares the world for its future, for this sanctified plurality, the Church, is the foretaste of the future plurality of the world.

The pagans will not last. They are in a terrible hurry, for they are trapped in history, and they know they are. But though we may all be in history, in-turned, dead to one another, we are not secure from the call of God; we will be raised and brought face to face, with those we were avoiding, with those we assumed were gone and could not be raised. With much more patience that we can imagine, our resurrection is waiting for us. It is our extraordinary privilege to be witnesses to this, and this is what makes Christian doctrine all joy.

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Leon Morris:Theories of the Atonement

Theories of the Atonement

by Leon Morris

Throughout the Bible the central question is, "How can sinful man ever be accepted by a holy God?" The Bible takes sin seriously, much more seriously than do the other literatures that have come down to us from antiquity. It sees sin as a barrier separating man from God (Isa. 59:2), a barrier that man was able to erect but is quite unable to demolish. But the truth on which the Bible insists is that God has dealt with the problem. He has made the way whereby sinners may find pardon, God's enemies may find peace. Salvation is never seen as a human achievement. In the OT sacrifice has a large place, but it avails not because of any merit it has of itself (cf. Heb. 10:4), but because God has given it as the way (Lev. 17:11). In the NT the cross plainly occupies the central place, and it is insisted upon in season and out of season that this is God's way of bringing salvation. There are many ways of bringing this out. The NT writers do not repeat a stereotyped story. Each writes from his own perspective. But each shows that it is the death of Christ and not any human achievement that brings salvation.

But none of them sets out a theory of atonement. There are many references to the effectiveness of Christ's atoning work, and we are not lacking in information about its many - sidedness. Thus Paul gives a good deal of emphasis to the atonement as a process of justification, and he uses such concepts as redemption, propitiation, and reconciliation. Sometimes we read of the cross as a victory or as an example. It is the sacrifice that makes a new covenant, or simply a sacrifice. There are many ways of viewing it. We are left in no doubt about its efficacy and its complexity. View the human spiritual problem as you will, and the cross meets the need. But the NT does not say how it does so.

Through the centuries there have been continuing efforts to work out how this was accomplished. Theories of the atonement are legion as men in different countries and in different ages have tried to bring together the varied strands of scriptural teaching and to work them into a theory that will help others to understand how God has worked to bring us salvation. The way has been open for this kind of venture, in part at least, because the church has never laid down an official, orthodox view. In the early centuries there were great controversies about the person of Christ and about the nature of the Trinity. Heresies appeared, were thoroughly discussed, and were disowned. In the end the church accepted the formula of Chalcedon as the standard expression of the orthodox faith. But there was no equivalent with the atonement. People simply held to the satisfying truth that Christ saved them by way of the cross and did not argue about how this salvation was effected.

Thus there was no standard formula like the Chalcedonian statement, and this left men to pursue their quest for a satisfying theory in their own way. To this day no one theory of the atonement has ever won universal acceptance. This should not lead us to abandon the task. Every theory helps us understand a little more of what the cross means and, in any case, we are bidden to give a reason of the hope that is in us (1 Pet. 3:15). Theories of the atonement attempt to do just that.

It would be impossible to deal with all the theories of the atonement that have been formulated, but we might well notice that most can be brought under one or the other of three heads: those which see the essence of the matter as the effect of the cross on the believer; those which see it as a victory of some sort; and those which emphasize the Godward aspect. Some prefer a twofold classification, seeing subjective theories as those which emphasize the effect on the believer, in distinction from objective theories which put the stress on what the atonement achieves quite outside the individual.

The Subjective View or Moral Influence Theory
Some form of the subjective or moral view is held widely today, especially among scholars of the liberal school. In all its variations this theory emphasizes the importance of the effect of Christ's cross on the sinner. The view is generally attributed to Abelard, who emphasized the love of God, and is sometimes called the moral influence theory, or exemplarism. When we look at the cross we see the greatness of the divine love. this delivers us from fear and kindles in us an answering love. We respond to love with love and no longer live in selfishness and sin. Other ways of putting it include the view that the sight of the selfless Christ dying for sinners moves us to repentance and faith. If God will do all that for us, we say, then we ought not to continue in sin. So we repent and turn from it and are saved by becoming better people.

The thrust in all this is on personal experience. The atonement, seen in this way, has no effect outside the believer. It is real in the person's experience and nowhere else. This view has been defended in recent times by Hastings Rashdall in The Idea of Atonement (1919).

It should be said in the first instance that there is truth in this theory. Taken by itself it is inadequate, but it is not untrue. It is important that we respond to the love of Christ seen on the cross, that we recognize the compelling force of his example.

Probably the best known and best loved hymn on the passion in modern times is "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross," a hymn that sets forth nothing but the moral view. Every line of it emphasizes the effect on the observer of surveying the wondrous cross. It strikes home with force. What it says is both true and important. It is when it is claimed that this is all that the atonement means that we must reject it. Taken in this way it is open to serious criticism. If Christ was not actually doing something by his death, then we are confronted with a piece of showmanship, nothing more. Someone once said that if he were in a rushing river and someone jumped in to save him, and in the process lost his life, he could recognize the love and sacrifice involved. But if he was sitting safely on the land and someone jumped into the torrent to show his love, he could see no point in it and only lament the senseless act. Unless the death of Christ really does something, it is not in fact a demonstration of love.

The Atonement as Victory
In the early church there seems to have been little attention given to the way atonement works, but when the question was faced, as often as not the answer came in terms of the NT references to redemption. Because of their sin people rightly belong to Satan, the fathers reasoned. But God offered his son as a ransom, a bargain the evil one eagerly accepted. When, however, Satan got Christ down into hell he found that he could not hold him. On the third day Christ rose triumphant and left Satan without either his original prisoners or the ransom he had accepted in their stead. It did not need a profound intellect to see that God must have foreseen this, but the thought that God deceived the devil did not worry the fathers. than Satan as well as stronger. They even worked out illustrations like a fishing trip: The flesh of Jesus was the bait, the deity the fishhook. Satan swallowed the hook along with the bait and was transfixed. This view has been variously called the devil ransom theory, the classical theory, or the fishhook theory of the atonement.

This kind of metaphor delighted some of the fathers, but after Anselm subjected it to criticism it faded from view. It was not until quite recent times that Gustaf Aulen with his Christus Victor showed that behind the grotesque metaphors there is an important truth. In the end Christ's atoning work means victory. The devil and all the hosts of evil are defeated. Sin is conquered. Though this has not always been worked into set theories, it has always been there in our Easter hymns. It forms an important element in Christian devotion and it points to a reality which Christians must not lose.

This view must be treated with some care else we will finish up by saying that God saves simply because he is strong, in other words, in the end might is right. This is an impossible conclusion for anyone who takes the Bible seriously. We are warned that this view, of itself, is not adequate. But combined with other views it must find a place in any finally satisfying theory. It is important that Christ has conquered.

Anselm's Satisfaction Theory
In the eleventh century Anselm, Archbishop of Canterbury, produced a little book called Cur Deus Homo? ("Why did God become Man?"). In it he subjected the patristic view of a ransom paid to Satan to severe criticism. He saw sin as dishonoring the majesty of God. Now a sovereign may well be ready in his private capacity to forgive an insult or an injury, but because he is a sovereign he cannot. The state has been dishonored in its head. Appropriate satisfaction must be offered. God is the sovereign Ruler of all, and it is not proper for God to remit any irregularity in his kingdom. Anselm argued that the insult sin has given to God is so great that only one who is God can provide satisfaction. But it was done by one who is man, so only man should do so. Thus he concluded that one who is both God and man is needed.

Anselm's treatment of the theme raised the discussion to a much higher plane than it had occupied in previous discussions. Most agree, however, that the demonstration is not conclusive. In the end Anselm makes God too much like a king whose dignity has been affronted. He overlooked the fact that a sovereign may be clement and forgiving without doing harm to his kingdom. A further defect in his view is that Anselm found no necessary connection between Christ's death and the salvation of sinners. Christ merited a great reward because he died when he had no need to (for he had no sin). But he could not receive a reward, for he had everything. To whom then could he more fittingly assign his reward then to those for whom he had died? This makes it more or less a matter of chance that sinners be saved. Not very many these days are prepared to go along with Anselm. But at least he took a very serious view of sin, and it is agreed that without this there will be no satisfactory view.

Penal Substitution
The Reformers agreed with Anselm that sin is a very serious matter, but they saw it as a breaking of God's law rather than as an insult to God's honor. The moral law, they held, is not to be taken lightly. "The wages of sin is death" (Rom. 6:23), and it is this that is the problem for sinful man. They took seriously the scriptural teachings about the wrath of God and those that referred to the curse under which sinners lay. It seemed clear to them that the essence of Christ's saving work consisted in his taking the sinner's place. In our stead Christ endured the death that is the wages of sin. He bore the curse that we sinners should have borne (Gal. 3:13). The Reformers did not hesitate to speak of Christ as having borne our punishment or as having appeased the wrath of God in our place.

Such views have been widely criticized. In particular it is pointed out that sin is not an external matter to be transferred easily from one person to another and that, while some forms of penalty are transferable (the payment of a fine), others are not (imprisonment, capital punishment). It is urged that this theory sets Christ in opposition to the Father so that it maximizes the love of Christ and minimizes that of the Father. Such criticisms may be valid against some of the ways in which the theory is stated, but they do not shake its essential basis. They overlook the fact that there is a double identification: Christ is one with sinners (the saved are "in" Christ, Rom. 8:1) and he is one with the Father (he and the Father are one, John 10:30; "God was in Christ, reconciling the world to himself," 2 Cor. 5:19). They also overlook the fact that there is much in the NT that supports the theory. It is special pleading to deny that Paul, for example, puts forward this view. It may need to be carefully stated, but this view still says something important about the way Christ won our salvation.

Sacrifice
There is much about sacrifice in the OT and not a little in the NT. Some insist that it is this that gives us the key to understanding the atonement. It is certainly true that the Bible regards Christ's saving act as a sacrifice, and this must enter into any satisfying theory. But unless it is supplemented, it is an explanation that does not explain. The moral view or penal substitution may be right or wrong, but at least they are intelligible. But how does sacrifice save? The answer is not obvious.

Governmental Theory
Hugo Grotius argued that Christ did not bear our punishment but suffered as a penal example whereby the law was honored while sinners were pardoned. His view is called "governmental" because Grotius envisions God as a ruler or a head of government who passed a law, in this instance, "The soul that sinneth, it shall die." Because God did not want sinners to die, he relaxed that rule and accepted the death of Christ instead. He could have simply forgiven mankind had he wanted to, but that would not have had any value for society. The death of Christ was a public example of the depth of sin and the lengths to which God would go to uphold the moral order of the universe. This view is expounded in great detail in Defensio fidei catholicae de satisfactione Christi adversus F. Socinum (1636).

Summary
All the above views, in their own way, recognize that the atonement is vast and deep. There is nothing quite like it, and it must be understood in its own light. The plight of sinful man is disastrous, for the NT sees the sinner as lost, as suffering hell, as perishing, as cast into outer darkness, and more. An atonement that rectifies all this must necessarily be complex. So we need all the vivid concepts: redemption, propitiation, justification, and all the rest. And we need all the theories. Each draws attention to an important aspect of our salvation and we dare not surrender any. But we are small minded sinners and the atonement is great and vast. We should not expect that our theories will ever explain it fully. Even when we put them all together, we will no more than begin to comprehend a little of the vastness of God's saving deed.

L Morris

(Elwell Evangelical Dictionary)