Participation and Atonement: An Analytic and Constructive Account

by Oliver D. Crisp

The atonement is at the heart of Christian doctrine. But how does it relate to the life of the church? And what difference does it make for worship and liturgy? Highly respected theologian Oliver Crisp sets out a new, comprehensive account of the nature of the atonement, exploring how this doctrine affects our participation in the life of God and in the shared life of the Christian community. Crisp builds on key insights from other historic substitutionary models of Christ's work while avoiding the problems plaguing penal substitution.

Genres: Theology

272 pages, Hardcover

Published November 1, 2022

About the author

Oliver D. Crisp (PhD, University of London, DLitt, University of Aberdeen) is professor of analytic theology at the University of St. Andrews. He is the author of several books, including Analyzing Doctrine: Toward a Systematic Theology, Saving Calvinism: Expanding the Reformed Tradition, Jonathan Edwards Among The Theologians, and The Word Enfleshed: Exploring the Person and Work of Christ. He is a founding editor of the Journal of Analytic Theology, and co-organizes the annual Los Angeles Theology Conference with Fred Sanders.

Reviews

[Scott Bielinski · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Participation and Atonement" is yet another contribution to the ever-expanding pantheon of Oliver Crisp’s work. As a work of analytic theology, it bears all the hallmarks of his previous work: precision, clarity, helpful distinctions, and thoughtful illustrations. His main preoccupation is to answer the question, "What is the mechanism by means of which Christ's work reconciles fallen human beings to God?" (3). In the main, Crisp argues for a view of the atonement that corrects perceived deficiencies in popular atonement models while absorbing their positive features. The final section of the book (Ch. 7-10) sets forth this constructive account, which relies upon an attenuated Reformed account of original sin (“corruption-only,” thus, those in Adam do not inherit original guilt), an attenuated, former position of his, which he now calls the “representational union account” (which argues that Christ’s work is, importantly, not penal - it is vicarious, reparative, and penitential), and, lastly, an account of how one enjoys the benefits of Christ’s work, which he gladly refers to as a species of theosis. Before this, though, Crisp sets a few methodological parameters (with an illuminating chapter on the distinction between motifs/metaphors, doctrines, models, and theories) and clears the ground by surveying all the models of atonement. In the end, though I am unpersuaded by some of the particulars of his argument, this book is an exceptional piece of analytic theology. This is especially true in how Crisp foregrounds union with Christ, making it central to his model of atonement. One of the virtues of participation as a theological lodestar is that it features nicely as the connective tissue between much of Crisp's theological work on the incarnation, Christ's representative nature, atonement, salvation, etc. Though Crisp misses out on some of the rich, biblical texture to "participation" (I'm thinking specifically of its relationship to sonship in John 14-17, Gal 4:6), as a theological concept, it nicely brings together Crisp's constructive work.

A few of my criticisms gravitate around his objections to penal substitutionary atonement. Mercifully, Crisp is a brilliant and erudite theologian, so we are not subjected to the more obviously reactionary and, frankly, weak arguments against PSA (None of which is to say that some proponents of PSA aren't, similarly, reactionary and theologically un-nuanced in their proposals). Similarly, this book is not a diatribe against PSA. In fact, he defends it at points and incorporates some of its perceived strengths into his own constructive account. However, I fail to see how his concerns about PSA aren't applicable to his own model. For example, Crisp raises the question about how our sin and guilt can be "transferred' to Christ because it "seems unjust to inflict such harsh treatment on an innocent part instead of the guilty one" (145). Similarly, he asks, why is Christ allowed to represent us? What makes this right? Now, Crisp knows, far better than me, the mechanism by which this question is answered: covenant theology and Reformed federalism. Crisp argues for a species of this in his constructive account, though only by way of the incarnation. Christ can be our representative because Christ takes upon our human nature. But the question remains: Is this not unjust? Moreover, why/how is Christ allowed to represent us? He says, "Christ may be held accountable for the sin of humanity as the representative of humanity" (200) because "only a human bears the right relation to other humans" (201), though this seems to beg the question. Finally, we answer the injustice objection by acknowledging this is something God voluntarily (covenantally) takes upon Himself. Christ gladly takes upon our covenant curses. Interestingly, Crisp uses this same line of logic to argue for the fittingness of Christ's representative nature. My sense is that Crisp sidesteps this whole criticism by pointing out that his account is not penal. Because it is not penal, there is no injustice in Christ representing us, though there would be if he were taking on our penalties. However, I think this misses the thinness of his representation account. I think Reformed federalism, especially that of the organic, Bavinckian variety, shows the "organic whole federalists, where the covenantal administration represents not legal fictions but the triune design of human beings" (Sutanto, "Egocentricity, Organism, and Metaphysics," in Studies in Christian Ethics Journal), offers us a far more thick account. In my mind, Bavinck's organic motif makes more sense and gets more mileage out of the participation metaphor than Crisp's account.

These criticisms aside, Crisps's book is a splendid piece of theology. I always love to read Crisp. He helped me see the importance of the satisfaction model of atonement. Indeed, this is one of the book's most helpful takeaways for me. And, as I alluded to earlier, there are unhelpful and theologically dangerous ways of articulating PSA. Theologians like Joshua Farris and Joshua McNall (are they almost all Joshuas??) are correct to warn against what Farris calls the "Christus Odium variety of penal substitution." I think Crisp's objections come from the same angle, and, ultimately, for someone like me (who still holds to PSA) help to bolster and more fully build out an understanding of the atonement that is, like Crisp's, multi-faceted and integrated into the wider economy of redemption. Crisp does a great job showing how to balance out different models of atonement while also showing how some, like the ransom view, "was only ever an idea in search of a model of atonement" (94). Crisp's ability to distinguish and analyze models, only to build them back with more structural integrity is impressive. And his writing is almost always crystal clear and, frankly, pleasant to read. This is a virtue almost avoided by some theologians! In the end, Crisp is always worth reading, and "Participation and Atonement" is too.

[Tim Donnelly · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is clear, fair, and genuinely helpful in explaining the strengths and weaknesses of different atonement theories, and his participation model rooted in Paul and the early church is a real standout - though I wish he’d spent more time covering it than just a couple chapters at the end of the book. He makes some good points about each of them and rightly criticizes the different theories for lacking a mechanism behind the atonement.

My biggest knock on the book is that it really suffers from barely engaging the temple system, Leviticus, or Hebrews, which feels like a major missing piece in any serious atonement discussion. He finally gets to the “mechanism” behind atonement and fails to mention anything related to Israel, or how atonement was thought of in the OT (weird because it only makes up 3/4 of the Bible?). It only has to do with a legal framework. This is what happens when people look primarily (or only) to Paul, read through the lenses of the reformers, to develop an atonement theology. His Reformed leanings sometimes force him into odd corners, like saying God can save infants or the mentally impaired apart from faith, yet giving no reason why that logic wouldn’t extend to everyone. (Does God arbitrarily save people or not?) Overall, helpful but incomplete.

[Logan Prettyman]

Getting rid of original guilt seems to make more problems than it solves.