Tag Archives: Atonement

Acts 13:38-39: A Holy Week Meditation

Toward the end of the sermon Luke gives Paul in the synagogue in Antioch in Pisidia we hear “Let it be known to you therefore, my brothers, that through this man forgiveness of sins is proclaimed to you; by this Jesus everyone who believes is set free from all those sins from which you could not be freed by the law of Moses.” (Act 13:38-39 NRSV) The theme of forgiveness of sins is common in Acts; what’s Paul (Luke) talking about in v.39?

Fitzmyer’s commentary (1998) confirms that this is an old question. “It is sometimes said that Luke is here introducing a nuance, so that he makes Paul declare that the Mosaic Law would justify people from some things but not from all…it may be a misreading of Luke to insist on that nuance, as some interpreters have done” (pp.518-519). OK, if that’s not what Luke is doing, what is Luke doing?

Perhaps Lohfink’s chapter “Dying for Israel” in his Jesus of Nazareth (2012) is relevant. The people’s leadership’s decisive rejection of God’s eschatological messenger has created a new situation—and we’re off the Mosaic map (no paragraph that starts “Should you happen to murder God’s eschatological messenger, prepare these sacrifices…”). Recalling one of Jesus’ thinly veiled parables as recorded in Luke, after the vineyard tenants kill the owner’s “beloved son,” the owner “will come and destroy those tenants and give the vineyard to others” (20:16). If that’s the context/situation, the possibility of forgiveness becomes the question.

Nor is this simply a Jewish question. Pilate is our stand-in, equally culpable despite his clumsy attempt to distance himself from the whole affair (“So Pilate gave his verdict that their demand should be granted” (Luk 23:24).

The evening before, as Luke records:

“Then he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, ‘This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ And he did the same with the cup after supper, saying, ‘This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.’” (22:19-20)

And here I pass the mic to Lohfink: “Therefore in this moment Jesus and Israel were faced with an entirely new situation, and that new situation demanded a new interpretation. To argue that Jesus never spoke before about his blood, about substitution and atonement, is not to the point. It assumes that the existence of individuals and of nations is carried on outside history. But the new interpretation Jesus gives in this very moment when the people of God is at the point of squandering its election for the sake of the world does not happen just anywhere and at any time. It happens at the Passover meal, at one of the holiest hours of the Jewish year. Jesus interprets his death as a final and definitive saving decree of God. Israel’s guilt, concentrated in Jesus’ death, is thus answered by God: he does not withdraw election from his people but instead truly allows that people to live, even though it has forfeited its life. That is precisely what the Bible means by ‘atonement’” (p.261).

Postscript to the Trinity Sunday Sermon

The Lectionary readings opened more doors than could be entered in the sermon. I could for example have spent much more time exploring the Trinity at work for our salvation in John’s Gospel. Hence this postscript.

One of the sermon’s primary themes was the Trinity as eternal community/fiesta/banquet/dance of love—hat tip to Leonardo Boff (Holy Trinity, Perfect Community) and C. S. Lewis (the Great Dance in Perelandra, chapter 17). But what of the buzzkill at the end of the Romans reading, Paul’s reference to sharing Jesus’ suffering?

The mediation between these themes was “The Prodigal Son” parable. (Is that parable a retelling of the Cain and Abel story?) The father wants both the younger “prodigal” son and the older self-righteous son at the banquet. But that’ll only happen if both recognize that the father’s love, forgiving, repaying evil with good (Rom 12:21), is an expression of strength, not weakness. That’ll only happen if both practice that love in forgiving, in repaying evil with good. Likewise the Father wants us at the banquet—us and our enemies. And that’ll only happen etc. That practice in this world means suffering (just ask Jesus how Holy Week went).

Pulling back the camera, while there are many moving parts in Jesus’ death, the combination of today’s Isaiah reading and the Prodigal Son parable encourage me to think that that death is less about paying some extrinsic penalty incurred by our guilt (a coal from the altar took care of Isaiah’s) and more about breaking the cycles of getting even that mar human beings and human history (see, conveniently, Gerhard Lohfink’s chapter 16 “Dying for Israel” in Jesus of Nazareth: What He Wanted, Who He Was).

Forgiving and repaying evil with good instead of seeking payback: signs of a strong or weak human being? (Signs of a strong or weak male?) The winds of that argument buffet us daily, and it’s worth noticing the answers we’re giving. And, since this is an election year, our presidential election is also about that.