A sermon preached at Niles Discovery Church, Fremont, California,
on Good Friday, April 14, 2017, by the Rev. Jeffrey Spencer.
Copyright © 2017 by Jeffrey S. Spencer
Scriptures quoted from the New Revised Standard Version
Simply put, I reject penal substitutionary atonement. Well, maybe that’s not so simply put. So, let me unpack that phrase, “penal substitutionary atonement.” An atonement is an act that makes reparation for a wrong or injury. It is an act that allows two parties to become at one again, thus the division of the word as “at-one-ment.”
Substitutionary atonement is an act made, not by the one who harmed the aggrieved person, but by someone on their behalf. So, when a parent acts on behalf of a child who has done something to wrong or injury a neighbor, that substitutionary atonement.
And penal substitutionary atonement is a substitutionary act of atonement that involves punishment or penalty.
In Christian theology, penal substitutionary atonement is the belief that the only way for us sinners to be at-one with God again was if someone – someone who was perfect, without sin – paid the penalty on our behalf with their life. This theology looks at the death of Jesus on the cross as the punishment (penal) borne on our behalf (substitutionary) so that we may be in right relationship with God (atonement). In this theology, Good Friday is “good” because we are saved through Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross.
There are lots of reasons I reject this theology. The most basic of these reasons is the portrait it paints of God. I reject the idea that God requires suffering of anyone to forgive and reconcile.
So, then, if Jesus didn’t die as part of some substitutionary atonement scheme, why did Jesus die? Jesus died because he was seen to be a threat to the established power structure. The principalities and powers of his day – the Roman government and the Jewish religious establishment – say the good news that Jesus preached to threaten their power. Whatever mob that came together against Jesus did not do so because God caused it. The principalities and powers wanted him gone, and that was enough. The contagion of violence is enough.
Jesus died for us, but not for God. The cross is not what God requires in order to forgive, but what God endures as God forgives. Episcopal Bishop Steven Charleston says, “Good Friday is the ultimate reality check, the graphic reminder that there is an end to all things. We are called to confront our mortality. We cannot escape into worlds of our own creation, but we must stand before the final authority of change. Nothing stays the same. And there, in that one truth, hidden away in the apparent darkness of this day, is the small seed of our liberation. Nothing stays the same. No, thank God, it doesn’t. The deep message of Good Friday speaks a profound truth: nothing lives forever. Nothing. Not even death. Even it has to change. It has to become something new.”
And this reality check is one of the two big things that make Good Friday “good” for me. The other is the way of courage it reveals.
The gospels tell us that in what turned out to be the last months of his life, Jesus turned his face to Jerusalem – in theory the city of peace, but in reality the city of the principalities and powers of his life. He headed to Jerusalem to face off against the principalities and powers, the systems that believe that we can be saved through violence, to proclaim his way of peace and justice and love. And at some point along the way, he came to realize that the way he was walking and talking would be seen as a threat and lead to his arrest and execution. Still, he kept walking. It was his call.
Even in the hours before his arrest, when he knew it was just around the corner, he prayed about it, and somehow managed to maintain his integrity to the call. He managed to stay on the path, even though it would cost him his life. He got to his “okay.” In the presence of God, he moved to the place where he could say, “Okay. Not my will, but your will be done.”
Listen again to the story.
Then Jesus went with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” He took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be grieved and agitated. Then he said to them, “I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and stay awake with me.” And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want.”
Then he came to the disciples and found them sleeping; and he said to Peter, “So, could you not stay awake with me one hour? Stay awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.”
Again he went away for the second time and prayed, “My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done.” [Matthew 26:36-42]
Jesus seemed to know that the path he was on would lead to his death. And, even though it was leading to his death, he sensed that the path he was on was still, somehow, the will of God. It wasn’t God’s will that he die, but that he remain faithful to God’s call for justice and love, even in the shadow of death. In prayer, Jesus got to his “okay.” “Okay, God, I don’t want to be killed, but I know you call me to embody your love, and your love is leading me this way. So, okay, your will, not mine, be done.”
Matthew goes on tell about Jesus’ arrest and his so-called trials before the Sanhedrin and the Roman Governor, Pilate. He tells about Jesus being mocked and beaten and being led away to be crucified.
And when they had crucified him, they divided his clothes among themselves by casting lots; then they sat down there and kept watch over him. Over his head they put the charge against him, which read, “This is Jesus, the King of the Jews.” …
From noon on, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. And about three o’clock Jesus cried with a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” When some of the bystanders heard it, they said, “This man is calling for Elijah.” At once one of them ran and got a sponge, filled it with sour wine, put it on a stick, and gave it to him to drink. But the others said, “Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to save him.” Then Jesus cried again with a loud voice and breathed his last.…
When it was evening, there came a rich man from Arimathea, named Joseph, who was also a disciple of Jesus. He went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus; then Pilate ordered it to be given to him. So Joseph took the body and wrapped it in a clean linen cloth and laid it in his own new tomb, which he had hewn in the rock. He then rolled a great stone to the door of the tomb and went away. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were there, sitting opposite the tomb. [Matthew 27:35-37, 45-50, 57-61]
 Steven Charleston, a post on Facebook, https://www.facebook.com/bishopstevencharleston/posts/1327331527351716 (posted and accessed 14 April 2017).