Handbook or troubleshooting: what sort of document is this? This is one of the questions that will will be posed for the theologically aware, both as they move through the argument and as they reflect upon it in conclusion. Oliver Crisp’s style is captured by his own name: it is crisp and clear and structured almost to a fault. To leave things there, however, would be more than churlish. Crisp is readable, challenging, and sets out his case with great care. The introduction sets the scene and each chapter is equally well structured: a description of each approach is followed by a critique, which then itself gives way to a conclusion, both summarizing and recapitulating some of the foregoing argument. Crisp is honest about his own standpoint, which is foursquare within the Reformed tradition. The first chapter sets out the issues. He demonstrates how in the Apostles’ Creed, for example, there is a summary of events in the life of Christ but no indication of what doctrine precisely constitutes the atonement. He continues by offering a range of models, metaphors and motifs used in soteriology which he then investigates in detail in the ensuing chapters.
From this starting point, Crisp looks first to the early church and to Patristic engagement with the atonement. The two main figures here are Irenaeus and Athanasius. In both cases, the concept of participation is the key element. He quotes Irenaeus’s cherished expression: ‘…He [Christ] became what we are, that he might bring us to be even what He is Himself’ (p. 35). With Athanasius we are introduced to the theme of sacrifice, but sacrifice not seen as punishment. Instead the language of ransom appears with Christ as ‘the prototype model of humanity’. Again, participation in the divine life is a key component: ‘He [Christ], assumed our humanity that we might become God’ (p. 43). The concepts of theosis and divinization make their first appearance here.
In the third chapter, it is the motif of ransom that fills the foreground. Crisp is clear that this is not the same as Gustaf Aulen’s classic/Christus Victor model. Indeed, he notes that neither ransom nor Aulen offer a complete model for atonement. Gregory of Nyssa’s work is placed alongside contemporary theologians including Hans Boersma, J. Denny Weaver and N.T. Wright. Ransom models are seen to add an important theme in relation to the vicarious suffering of Christ, without such suffering being seen as punishment. Each of these approaches, he argues, however, is ultimately a motif that does not include the ‘mechanics’ of atonement as in the work of Irenaeus and Athanasius.
In his next chapter, Crisp examines ‘satisfaction doctrines of the atonement’. The earliest and most formative, of course, is that of Anselm in his Cur Deus Homo? Anselm sees humanity’s sin as dishonouring God, so somehow punishment must be meted out in order that the ‘divine honour’ may be restored. It is at this point, that the need for the God-man in Anselm’s thought becomes clear. Atonement in Christ is an act of supererogation, the benefits of which can be passed on to all sinful humanity. Criticisms are again noted: it is not scriptural, it issues from a ‘feudal’ model of society, and valorizes divine violence.
In contrast to this, the next theme to be tackled is that often seen as the diametric opposite to Anselm, and in its assumed earliest expression, the work of Peter Abelard. Crisp argues that Abelard offered more than pure exemplarism and looks to the Socinians for a strictly exemplarist pattern, a pattern he argues that has been reborn for contemporary theology in the work of John Hick. The traditional criticisms of such a model are rehearsed, including an insufficient doctrine of sin and response to the feminist critique of the violence and suffering still implied.
Penal substitution is the next candidate for consideration and, to change the metaphor, this doctrine becomes almost a ‘continuo’, a ‘ground bass’ running beneath so many of the different models examined elsewhere in Crisp’s analysis. A good brief summary of penal substitution is set out. Crisp is clear that the references in Paul, seen either as propitiation or expiation, are a key issue in examining this model. His critique is fair and takes account of the familiar issues relating to Christ being offered on the Cross to appease God’s wrath. Crisp is clear that, seen baldly, such a model undermines a proper Trinitarian theology, where the three persons are held together in unity. There are moments here, however, when it feels as if Crisp is in ‘retreat’, using special pleading to explain the origin of some of the more sophisticated penal substitution models.
A further chapter examines ‘governmental’ and ‘vicarious penitential’ models which attempt to respond to the weaknesses of the Socinian model. Then comes an analysis of the problems relating to ‘atoning violence’. Two models are investigated. The first, one of ‘rhetorical flourish’, is shown to beg the question, and the second considers the crucial issue of ‘divine intent’ in relation to atonement and the suffering of Christ. Finally, before embarking on his own model, Crisp looks at what he calls ‘mashup’ and ‘kaleidoscopic’ accounts. Mashup was a neologism for this reviewer! It refers to music blending two pre-recorded songs. Here Crisp includes J.I. Packer’s model, from the 1970s, which attempts to supplement ‘penal substitution’ with elements from other models. Kaleidoscopic approaches, which follow, are not models themselves but instead are attempts to examine the nature of the different metaphors, motifs and models in atonement theology.
Crisp’s own substantive model, which he describes as ‘union’ or participatory, has much to commend it. It takes as its starting point the key insights of Irenaeus and Athanasius, alongside New Testament themes, and then engages with the theology of Jonathan Edwards. It moves him toward a consideration of theosis/divinization, which has been important in Orthodox theology, and indeed increasingly in the Western tradition. His development of the corporate concepts of fallen and redeemed humanity are well demonstrated, as indeed is the process whereby atonement is effected.
Just two critical reflections on this model can lead us into a final critique of the whole book. First, it is not clear whether references to Adam acknowledge this to be part of a mythical but nonetheless useful background, or whether Adam is literally seen as our first ancestor in the flesh. My instinct is that it is the first of these, but that is not made clear. Second, Crisp concludes with a reference to Christ taking on the penal consequences of atonement with the associated assuaging of human guilt. This seems unnecessary in a model which has already done its redemptive work.
These reflections touch on a more general uncertainty with regard to the book. Who is his real audience? Is the book directed to the academy and the church in a universal sense, or is it aimed at his own Reformed, and to some significant degree Evangelical audience? Why, for example, do the important critical works on atonement by F.W. Dillistone and, more recently, Paul Fiddes (himself a Baptist and so Reformed theologian) not deserve a mention or reference? Second, is the penal substitution continuo a bow in the direction of a narrower audience?
Crisp’s own theory has much to commend it. It is positive and constructive; it can engage with modern myths including the Freudian approach to guilt and collective human fallibility; also it could engage with Melanie Klein’s psychological model of projective identification: humanity’s sin and evil are laid upon God in Christ and can then be returned to humanity in an unharmful form, embracing the love of God. Crisp’s own use of story and his clear response to feminism with a sustained use of inclusive language (even in his stories and examples) lay good foundations here. It would be a still more enriching thesis if Crisp could finally break free from the shackles of a more confined world.
