Real Christianity
A Family or Court Room?
by Lynn Ridenhour
I grew up with two models of Christianity: 1) Christianity as a
courtroom where, for the most part, much of the time I was nervous about
the consequences of my behavior, and 2) Christianity as a family where
relationships were often nurtured and restored.
I must confess, I prefer the latter, for of the two models, I’m convinced
Christianity as a family is the biblical model. Christianity as a courtroom
came out of a forensic model, which was introduced into western theology when
Jerome’s Vulgate used Latin court language to translate Greek terms. Come
centuries later we still haven’t shaken it! I believe the courtroom model
has done much damage to the psychic of Western Man.
The Courtroom Model
What is the courtroom model of Christianity?
Legal categories tend to predominate one’s thinking. For instance, a
broad Western tradition from Tertullian, Augustine, Anselm and Calvin
tends to view God as Judge and salvation as a contract. The tendency was to
change God from the lover of mankind to an implacable judge. He must be
appeased at all cost.
It started back in the Garden of Eden. The Westminster Confession, for
example, speaks of a contract with God that promised life on the condition of
perfect obedience. The language, of course, is contractual, and the image of
the law court becomes central to our thinking. The term "federal"
theology comes to mind—the Latin foedus means covenant.
The courtroom model of Christianity really centers around the doctrine of
original sin. Something was legally transferred to us all when Eve bit into
the apple, therefore, the need for a legal advocate. Sin is viewed as an
infraction of God’s rules, atonement is needed to appease his wrath, and
salvation is conditioned upon Christ’s being received as our legal
Substitute. The legal category of justification becomes key and is divorced
from the context of personal relationships. The system implies that God loves
people only when the penalty has been paid in full and all the conditions met.
[John Calvin Versus the Westminster Confession, John Knox, 1972].
In this model, God can display parental love only after the penalty has
been fully paid. His wrath would have to be satisfied before any love can
flow. In this model, original sin is understood as the imputed guilt
of another. "Vicarious substitution" refers to Jesus Christ’s
legal acceptance of the penalty due to us and the transfer of his
righteousness to our account. The crucifixion is viewed by forensic theism as payment,
the settling of a penalty.
I call the above model forensic theism. And I, like millions of
"evangelical Christians," grew up with it. For after all, how could
Billy Graham be wrong? It’s the gospel according to Billy Graham. It’s the
gospel according to modern-day TV evangelists. It’s the gospel according to
the Westminster Confession. It’s the gospel according to the Baptists. It’s
the gospel according to the Presbyterians. It’s the gospel according to the
Lutherans. It’s the Protestant gospel. It’s the gospel I was taught while
preparing for the ministry. For years, I was steeped in it. Believed it and
preached it.
Problem: forensic theism pits the Godhead against one another. The Father
as judge is compelled to condemn sinners to hell, whereas the Son as savior
pleads for humanity and pays off their penalty. Only when the offer is
accepted, is God free to love us and the Spirit free to begin his work in us—but
not until then.
Problem: God asks us to do something he’s not willing to do Himself. Love
the wicked.
Unless you’ve been around this model of Christianity, I believe it’s
difficult for you to understand the angst it perpetuates. Ironically,
the gospel is bad news for most of us. Somehow I’ve got to attract
the attention of an angry God and get his legal pardon for my destiny in order
for him to change his mind about me. A bit of humor perhaps lightens the load
here. A preacher friend of another persuasion once remarked, "…Lynn,
you know the only difference between you and me?…"
I asked, "…what Bill?…" He said…
"…We’re both going to heaven. You’re just going scared…"
Setting aside the humor of that statement, he’s right. More than he
knows. I can’t count the times I’ve been to the altar, pleading with God
for assurance of my salvation. Was my repentance deep enough? My faith sincere
enough? I’ll say it again, for me the angst was deep and the
Christian life was never one of real joy & liberty. I could never quite
get the victory. I was too busy making my calling & election sure. What a
wrap.
The forensic model of Christianity. And I believe I speak for thousands, if
not millions, of believers.
Thank God, there is presently a "mega-shift" occurring within the
evangelical community. Something wonderful is happening. As early as ten years
ago, prominent evangelical theologians began to be at odds with the forensic
model of Christianity. An article in Christianity Today entitled
"Evangelical Megashift: Why you may not have heard about wrath, sin, and
hell recently" written by Robert Brow has created quite a stir in the
camp [Feb.19, 1990, pp. 12-14].
Robert Brow and Clark Pinnock, two prominent Protestant theologians, lead
the way. In their much publicized book "Unbounded Love: A Good News
Theology for the 21st Century," Brown and Pinnock introduce a
new model of Christianity called "Creative Love Theism." [InterVarsity
Press, 1994]. They argue,
"…One of the most obvious features of new-model evangelicalism is an
emphasis on recalling the warmth of a family relationship when thinking about
God. It prefers to picture God as three persons held together in a
relationship of love. The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, it argues, made humans
in their image with a view to bringing many children to glory. So instead of
being dragged trembling into a law court, we are to breathe in the atmosphere
of a loving family…" [Christianity Today, Feb.19th, 1990,
p.12].
Which brings us to…
The Family Model
Adapting a new model, by the way, for articulating one’s faith inevitably
brings to the table its own nuances. Brow argues, for instance, that the Roman
law court is the wrong context for understanding the Scriptures. This has a
dramatic effect on the way faith is articulated, for the adoption of a new
model changes the nuance of every word. A shift from Newtonian to Einsteinian
physics, to suggest an analogy, makes terms such as gravity, light, energy,
and space and time change their flavor. We similarly need to understand
the new meanings given to some of the old words [p.13].
Let’s examine some of these "old words" used in the forensic
model, and give them a new flavor. Words like:
Hell
In The Great Divorce, C. S. Lewis rejected the idea that God sends
people to hell by a judicial sentence for failing to hear or understand. His
picture of a gray city and the freedom to move into the light of heaven
suggested that no one could possibly be in hell who would rather be in heaven.
Brow would identify this understanding as the family model, and suggest that
it is now a common assumption of many Christians in thoroughly biblical
churches.
This is not, of course, to suggest that "new-model" evangelicals
preach universalism. C. S. Lewis had no doubt that some, together with Satan,
will choose hell. The point is that the assignment to hell is not by judicial
sentence. The model presents heaven and hell as the ultimate outcome of our
freedom.
Another "old word."
Faith
C. S. Lewis's picture of heaven and hell as destinations of the heart
supplies a new motive and meaning for believing. Faith is a direction of
looking, new-model thinking would argue, not a particular decision. While
choosing is important, decisions can be based on fleeting emotions, wrong
information, or ignorance. But God looks on the heart, the new model
says. Abraham, as described in Romans, shows this: He is justified by faith -
a faith in which one cannot point to only one decision. His faith had to do
with a constant looking in the right direction.
Another "old word:"
Judgment
Biblical judgment, argues Brow, is a comforting judgment. Take the word judge.
The word has two quite different meanings, it is argued. Instead of a
Roman law court, the new emphasis derives its understanding from the books of
Judges, Samuel, and Kings. Judges such as Deborah or Gideon or Samuel are
portrayed as defenders of their people. They may have to settle petty
quarrels, but their concern is the freedom peace of the people.
This picture of a judge is sometimes merged with the Old Testament
portrayal of the ideal king. David is a father of his people: He loves them,
fights for them, and is a good shepherd. New-model evangelicals are
comfortable with such interpretations, while old-model evangelicals complain
that they produce preaching that misses the notes of sin, guilt, condemnation,
and the terrors of hell [p13].
Still another word that has found a new flavor:
Wrath
In the family model, a fourth term, wrath--specifically God's
wrath--similarly means something different from the old-model understanding.
Wrath connotes not angry punishment, but the bad consequences God assigns, as
any loving parent might, to destructive or wrongful behavior. The word wrath
as used in the Old Testament, it is argued, is not primarily a law-court term.
It never means sending people to an eternal hell. In fact, it can simply be
translated "bad consequences" - the bad consequences of pestilence,
drought, and famine, or the ravages of wild animals and invading armies,
experienced in the here and now. Likewise, Jesus spoke of terrible
consequences that would come about in the fall of Jerusalem - for his
generation.
So wrath is more like a loving encouragement or rebuke to help us into (or
keep us in) the fold. New-model evangelicals shrink from using the terrors of
hell to scare people into making a decision. From the old-model point of view,
that approach misses the fact that God can send us to hell, and that the only
hope is to accept what Christ has done to save us from the damnation we
deserve [p.14].
And finally…
Sin
A fifth word, sin, also changes meaning. In a law court, sin is an
offense deserving of a penalty. In old-model theology, even one sin would be
sufficient to condemn us to hell. New-model evangelicals, on the other hand,
cannot think about sin without reference to the fatherly care of God. For
loving parents, sin or bad behavior requires discipline and correction, with a
view to helping the child change. But the purpose is never to exclude the
child from home. That means sin under the new model is dealt with primarily in
the community of faith, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. Old-model
evangelicals stress that the judicial condemnation of sin must first be
removed by a deliberate acceptance of the payment Christ has made on our
behalf [p.14].
Brow & Pinnock are on to something here!
"Creative Love Theism" celebrates a different set of definitions
for old words. Sin, for instance, is not seen as imputed guilt, but
rather as estrangement from God. God is both Judge and Father,
but creative love theism does not see him as a law-court judge, but as a judge
of the biblical type (judges in the Old Testament cared about liberating
oppressed people and putting things right). Both models speak of God as a king,
but with different views of the meaning of sovereignty. When creative love
theists think of monarchy, we do not picture an all-determining power but a
Davidic King who protects and shepherds his flock and delegates powers to
others.
The father’s judgment, in other words, is always subservient to his love.
It’s never in opposition to. Sin is the decision of the creature not to
welcome love.
Then…
Who goes to hell?
Only those who spurn the Father’s love. It’s a funny way of looking at
things, but the sinner would not be happy in heaven.
New-model thinking views the church as one of the instruments of the love
of God. Instead of a stockade for the saved, or an agency to save souls, the
church is viewed as a royal priesthood functioning to make known the love of
God, to say "your sins are forgiven" as Jesus did, and to offer the
resources of the Spirit to all who want to learn how to love and enjoy God and
their neighbors.
That obviously produces a different motive for missions. Old-model missions
viewed all the heathen as lost until they heard the gospel and made the right
"faith decision." Christians - missionaries in particular - are to
feel the burden of the millions going to hell; they should go and save any who
can be reached with the good news.
New-model evangelicals tend to appeal instead to the Great Commission at
the end of Matthew's gospel. Jesus' program is to teach all nations. This
means enrolling by baptism any who want to learn and training them, forming
them into church families where the Spirit will teach them all that Jesus
taught [p.14].
Again, only those who have chosen to spurn the Father’s love go to hell.
God never sends them. They choose to go.
I’m convinced, the family model of Christianity is the biblical model. I’m
convinced of that, not only theologically, but autobiographically. Like C.S.
Lewis, there came a day when I too was…
Surprised By Joy
In Lewis’s autobiography, Surprised By Joy, he speaks of how Joy (Sehnsucht)
played a central role in his pilgrimage to Christian truth and in shaping even
his apologetics.
I too was surprised by joy.
For years I struggled as a believer. I struggled with the doctrine and
experience of sanctification. I wanted to be holy. I tried to be holy. I
fasted and prayed. Preached and pled. It got to the point where I set the
alarm for 4 am, arose from sleep, went into my study, and lay prostrate on the
floor, saying not a word but "…O, God, please come…"
I did that for months.
For you see, I came out of the "holiness camp." Some call it the
"deeper life" movement. I was always under the impression that if I
prayed long enough, humbled myself, and sanctified myself, then the Spirit of
God would come. For years, I lived under such a millstone. For "holiness
doctrine" teaches sanctification by self-effort when you get right down
to it.
One evening, while sitting with my lovely wife in our living room relaxing,
the Holy Spirit came and filled us both with the presence of God. I had done
nothing to prepare the way. I was not expecting Him. He merely showed up. Out
of love and kindness, He came. I remember it well. Though the experience
occurred in 1972, it is as though it happened this morning.
I remember, with sheer joy I sat there thinking, "…but Lord, I’ve
tried all these years to sanctify myself, and now you’re doing it for me…"
When he comes, he sanctifies.
I reveled in his love. Marveled at his kindness. And thought of the most
powerful definition of the experience of grace I could think of: "…Grace
is knowing that there is nothing you can do to make God love you more. And
there is nothing you could ever do that would make God love you less…"
How true.
From that moment on, my model & understanding of Christianity changed.
It switched from Christianity as a courtroom to Christianity as a family.
From that moment on, I learned—the message of the Bible is the story of
divine grace and human restoration. It invites us all into the joy of
fellowship with God and announces his plans to create a new humanity.
And you can’t beat that. r
