In her most recent book, Elizabeth A. Johnson argues that the ecological crises facing our planet compel Christians to recognize how the meaning of the cross is extended to all creation. This requires deconstructing and reimagining the anthropocentric interpretations of the cross so single-mindedly focused on human sinfulness and sacrifice. She argues that the satisfaction theory infamously proposed in St. Anselm's Cur Deus Homo and so entrenched in Christian imagination is no longer a viable soteriology for several reasons. It is rooted in a feudal justice system that no longer makes sense and thus makes God out to be a sadistic monster who requires a blood sacrifice for payment; it fails to acknowledge creation beyond human beings in God's salvific plan; it does not reflect our current understanding of the universe, evolutionary biology, and the interconnectedness among all living things; and it is so narrowly fixated on the crucifixion and death of Jesus it fails to consider the entire biblical revelation of God's salvific activity, including the incarnation and resurrection. After “wrestling with Anselm,” Johnson presents an alternative interpretation of redemption she calls a “theology of accompaniment.” “Drawn from a wide range of biblical sources,” Johnson writes, “this alternative envisions the living God actively accompanying the world in its evolutionary and historical breakthroughs, its human sinfulness, and its universal suffering and death, with overflowing mercy that endures forever” (xiii).
Scholars familiar with Johnson's extensive body of work will find Creation and the Cross to be a creative compilation of her greatest theological hits. Thus, what is even more evocative than her theology of accompaniment is the pedagogy of accompaniment she uses to structure her argument. Borrowing Anselm's own approach to Cur Deus Homo, Johnson frames the entire book as a conversation between herself, Elizabeth, and an imagined student named Clara. This approach allows Johnson to methodically deconstruct Anselm's theology of the cross while still acknowledging his invaluable contributions to theological inquiry. She then carefully guides Clara, and thus the reader, on a journey to reclaim biblical images of God's compassionate cosmic mercy that informed Jesus’ self-understanding and ministry and shaped the earliest Christian interpretations of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection.
Some readers may find Clara to be an overidealized representative of contemporary college students. Nevertheless, the dialogical style is effective. The exchange between Elizabeth and Clara models the kind of meaningful theological conversation college professors hope to facilitate in our classrooms and offices. Johnson shows teachers how to accompany students through the dense thicket of their own theological assumptions and, through rigorous scholarly inquiry, help them develop images of the cross, creation, and salvation that are both rooted in biblical and theological tradition and more relevant for today. This reignites hope that students can develop the intellectual capacity and curiosity to wrestle with the theological tradition in fruitful ways—if they have teachers as patient and insightful as Elizabeth. In short, Johnson reminds us that good theology requires good pedagogy.
Creation and the Cross will prove compelling for seasoned and fledgling theologians alike. It could easily be used in an undergraduate theology course or a pastoral study group. Students new to theology will find it an accessible and relevant introduction to Christian biblical and systematic theology. Its dialogical style will encourage students to think, question, and evaluate theology's much-needed contribution to the ecological crisis. Yet, perhaps most important, I hope it encourages professors and ministers to teach and accompany our students with Johnson's grace and wisdom. Developing a theology of accompaniment that takes seriously the perils of our planet requires practicing a pedagogy of accompaniment, one rooted in creative dialogue and oriented toward God's expansive, cosmic mercy. In Creation and the Cross, Johnson shows us how to do both.