Atonement. It’s another of those religious-sounding words which theologians seem to care about a lot, which has historically been yet another cause of division between brothers, and yet rarely comes up in actual conversations.
Nonetheless, let me bring it to your attention as a diamond of systematic theology. It is multifaceted, and many books have been written on the subject. I won’t write you an essay, but I want to put forward a perspective on atonement that I’ve been mulling over.
What Is Atonement?
What is atonement? Fundamentally, it refers to the reconciliation of God and man; how sinful humanity is restored to right relationship with a holy God. The fundamental point of any theory of atonement is to explain how sinful people are reconciled to God through what Jesus accomplished. The question is not whether this has happened; the struggle is articulating the mechanism, the how. But the Bible uses many different words, concepts, and analogies to describe this phenomenon, making any overly precise theory difficult to justify biblically.
There are many theories of atonement. Some emphasise sacrifice, some victory over the powers of sin and death, some satisfaction of justice, some representation, substitution, healing, ransom, or covenantal faithfulness. Most capture something true, because Scripture itself describes Christ’s work using a rich variety of images and concepts. But I’ve noticed there’s been little discussion on how Christ’s self-sacrifice is the perfect counterpoint to the biblical conception of sin.
Let me explain.
The Trust Behind the Fall
When we speak of sin, we often think of particular actions: lying, stealing, adultery, murder, and so on. But beneath those actions lies something deeper. In Eden, sin was fundamentally a failure to trust God. Adam and Eve rejected dependence upon Him and grasped for themselves what was not theirs to take. Ever since, humanity has repeated the pattern: self-will over submission, self-reliance over trust, our wisdom over God’s wisdom.
If that is the essence of sin, then Christ’s life and death appear as its exact opposite.
Paul makes this connection explicitly:
“So then, just as through one transgression the result was condemnation for all people, so also through one righteous act the result was righteousness that brings life for all people. For just as through one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so also through one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous.” — Romans 5:18–19 (REV)
Notice the contrast? Paul certainly speaks of condemnation and justification, but he also draws attention to something deeper: the contrast between the kind of act Adam performed and the kind of act Christ performed. This pattern appears again in Philippians:
“[Christ Jesus], who, though being in the appearance of God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped at, but instead he emptied himself by taking the appearance of a servant, becoming like the rest of humankind. And being found as an ordinary human, he humbled himself, becoming obedient unto death — even death on a cross!” — Philippians 2:6–8 (REV)
Adam disobeyed; Christ obeyed. Adam grasped; Christ surrendered. Adam distrusted God; Christ entrusted Himself to God even unto death.
Not My Will, But Yours
Perhaps nowhere is Christ’s trust and obedience seen more clearly than in Gethsemane. Facing certain suffering and deep, tragic injustice at the hands of the very people He came to save, His prayer was:
”… let not my will, but your will, be done.” — Luke 22:42 (REV)
That simple statement stands in direct opposition to the same self-will that has marked human rebellion since Eden. The writer of Hebrews similarly emphasises Christ’s faithfulness:
“although he was a son, yet he learned obedience by the things that he suffered” — Hebrews 5:8 (REV)
And again:
”…Jesus, the leader and finisher of our trust, who, because of the joy that was set before him, endured the cross” — Hebrews 12:2 (REV)
The cross was not something that merely happened to Jesus. It was the ultimate expression of perfect trust, perfect obedience, and perfect self-giving love. A righteous man entrusting Himself to God even unto death.
The Last Adam
This also sheds light on why Christ is repeatedly described as the “last Adam” and the representative man. He succeeds precisely where mankind failed!
Where Adam and Eve said “my will,” Christ said “your will.” Where humanity grasped, Christ surrendered. Where humanity rebelled, Christ obeyed. Where mankind exalted itself, Christ humbled Himself. Where mankind gave up, Christ endured. Where mankind distrusted God, Christ entrusted Himself completely to the Father’s will.
Perhaps one way of appreciating the beauty of the atonement is not only to consider what Christ bore for us, but also what He offered to the Father on our behalf: the one truly perfect human response to God.
I am not suggesting this replaces any of the other biblical pictures of atonement. Scripture speaks of sacrifice, reconciliation, redemption, victory, justification, cleansing, ransom, substitution, and much more. Rather, this seems like another facet of the diamond.
Christ’s death was for sinners, but it was also the supreme and perfect contradiction of everything sin is and represents. Every sinful impulse finds its antithesis at Calvary. There, at last, a man trusted God completely.
A Pattern to Live Into
And perhaps there is an application here for us. If sin is fundamentally distrust of God expressed through self-will, then righteousness cannot merely be the avoidance of certain behaviours. It must involve learning the same posture that Christ displayed as the “pioneer of our faith”: trust in the Father, obedience in suffering, humility rather than self-exaltation, and the daily willingness to say, “not my will, but yours be done.”
Perhaps this is one reason we are called to “have this mind in you which was also in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 2:5). The atonement is not merely something we admire from a distance and let the theologians argue about. It is the pattern of life into which we are being transformed.
So — where in your life this week does trust look like obedience, and obedience look like trust?
In Christ,
Paul
Postscript: while writing this, I couldn’t stop humming the old hymn “When We Walk with the Lord” — trust and obey.