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Sin: A History
What is sin? Is it simply wrongdoing? Why do its effects linger over time? In this sensitive, imaginative, and original work, Gary Anderson shows how changing conceptions of sin and forgiveness lay at the very heart of the biblical tradition. Spanning nearly two thousand years, the book brilliantly demonstrates how sin, once conceived of as a physical burden, becomes, over time, eclipsed by economic metaphors. Transformed from a weight that an individual carried, sin becomes a debt that must be repaid in order to be redeemed in God's eyes. Anderson shows how this ancient Jewish revolution in thought shaped the way the Christian church understood the death and resurrection of Jesus and eventually led to the development of various penitential disciplines, deeds of charity, and even papal indulgences. In so doing it reveals how these changing notions of sin provided a spur for the Protestant Reformation. Broad in scope while still exceptionally attentive to detail, this ambitious and profound book unveils one of the most seismic shifts that occurred in religious belief and practice, deepening our understanding of one of the most fundamental aspects of human experience.
272 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2009
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March 25, 2013
Professor Anderson here connects the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures with both rabbinical and early Christian writing--including, unusually, Syriac writing--to exposit some of the Bible's understandings of sin. While he several times avers that the Old Testament's main metaphor for sin is a weight, he concentrates on what becomes in the NT and rabbinical writing the dominant metaphor, that of debt. (One wonders where are the frequent OT depictions of sin as "missing the mark" or "twisting out of shape," words and metaphors that never show up in this treatment.)
In concentrating on debt, Anderson helps us understand forgiveness and particularly the atonement (per Col. 2:14 especially). As a kind of appendix, Anderson shows that Anselm of Canterbury's explanation of Cur Deus Homo ("why God became human") is, contra Gustav Aulén and many others, rooted in the Bible, not just in early, Latin fathers and can therefore claim to be at least as "classical" as "Christus Victor"--which motif also gets additional context in this book.
Anderson does seem to give too much authority to Satan, even identifying him with death itself at times. He makes other little slips at times (or quotes others doing so without noticing), such as calling "Do not eat" the first commandment (cf. the cultural mandate in Genesis 1).
More importantly, he seems never to question the logic of supererogation, as if one can ever do more than God actually requires one to do. As a good Catholic (he holds a Notre Dame chair in Catholic theology), I can understand him defending it, but a critical scholar who is aware enough of the Protestant Reformation to take a couple of whacks at it along the way might have paused for at least a little consideration of the Protestant sense of vocation, a sense that disputes the very idea of "minimum requirements" of faithfulness that one can exceed by works of charity.
Still, there is much good scholarship and even some edification here, as one contemplates forgiveness as God forgoing his right to exact punishment from us but instead suffering in our stead. One can also ponder the many sayings not only of the rabbis but of the Bible as well that giving to the poor is like loaning to the Lord: one cannot possibly lose by such an investment, but instead will receive back from God a fabulous ROI.
In concentrating on debt, Anderson helps us understand forgiveness and particularly the atonement (per Col. 2:14 especially). As a kind of appendix, Anderson shows that Anselm of Canterbury's explanation of Cur Deus Homo ("why God became human") is, contra Gustav Aulén and many others, rooted in the Bible, not just in early, Latin fathers and can therefore claim to be at least as "classical" as "Christus Victor"--which motif also gets additional context in this book.
Anderson does seem to give too much authority to Satan, even identifying him with death itself at times. He makes other little slips at times (or quotes others doing so without noticing), such as calling "Do not eat" the first commandment (cf. the cultural mandate in Genesis 1).
More importantly, he seems never to question the logic of supererogation, as if one can ever do more than God actually requires one to do. As a good Catholic (he holds a Notre Dame chair in Catholic theology), I can understand him defending it, but a critical scholar who is aware enough of the Protestant Reformation to take a couple of whacks at it along the way might have paused for at least a little consideration of the Protestant sense of vocation, a sense that disputes the very idea of "minimum requirements" of faithfulness that one can exceed by works of charity.
Still, there is much good scholarship and even some edification here, as one contemplates forgiveness as God forgoing his right to exact punishment from us but instead suffering in our stead. One can also ponder the many sayings not only of the rabbis but of the Bible as well that giving to the poor is like loaning to the Lord: one cannot possibly lose by such an investment, but instead will receive back from God a fabulous ROI.
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August 22, 2021DNF
The author’s intent with sin is very religious centred whereas i thought this would be a more anthropological study. Turns out it was theological. Not for me. Onwards!
The author’s intent with sin is very religious centred whereas i thought this would be a more anthropological study. Turns out it was theological. Not for me. Onwards!
December 27, 2021
Excellent book. The author starts by looking at metaphorical descriptions of sin, but then goes on to account for the wide range of financial terms used in describing relationship with God and gives a serious defense of the practice of almsgiving, showing its place in Second Temple Judaism, Rabbinic teaching, and in the teaching of Christ and the Fathers.
If I had to critique: The book can be a little repetitive at times. Also, a lot of the material is repeated in the author's book titled "Charity". Nonetheless, the thoughts here are important enough to warrant the high rating.
If I had to critique: The book can be a little repetitive at times. Also, a lot of the material is repeated in the author's book titled "Charity". Nonetheless, the thoughts here are important enough to warrant the high rating.
August 13, 2024
Helping the poor is lending to God (with interest). God is the first debtor. But if we can lend to God, we can accrue debt...by "sinning" (ie making someone poor...making someone need God).... So sin has largely always meant debt..... So fascinating. Sin meant burden/weight but Aramaic word for sin IS debt and Aramaic influenced Hebrew and Jewish conceptualizations of sin. Totally contrary to my evangelical upbringing.
March 13, 2015
Gary A. Anderson is professor of Old Testament/Hebrew Bible in the Department of Theology at the University of Notre Dame. According to the University of Notre Dame website Anderson holds an MDiv from Duke University and a PhD from Harvard. Anderson has won numerous awards for his research and has served as Vice-President and President of the Catholic Biblical Association from 2012–14. He has been published as both the author and editor of numerous theological articles and books.
His most recent work, Sin: A History, Anderson advances the way in which metaphors for sin and atonement changed over the span of biblical history and developed both Jewish and Christian theology in the area of soteriology. Anderson clearly states that his desire is to show how the idea of sin as a debt developed within the pages of the Old Testament, and more specifically during the Second Temple period, replacing the idea of sin as a burden to be borne. While also showing how the theology of almsgiving emerged at the same time as the debt metaphor developing a cyclical pattern of sin and atonement in the Christian Age.
The book is divided into three segments. Part one introducing the history of sin and how sin, as the author describes it, produces a certain “thingness” that must be carried by the offender and then carried away in atonement. And how this “thing” that produced a weight gave way to the theology the “thing” being a debt. In part two the author sets forth to describe the development of this debt theology of sin from the Second Temple period. In the third section Anderson addresses the development of almsgiving as a means by which the debt is paid.
In chapter one Anderson sets out to define sin and leaves the reader unsatisfied as he fails to develop a workable and biblical definition. Claiming that the idea of sin “does not have the same meaning in the book of Genesis as it does in the book of Daniel of the Gospel of Matthew.” Because of the metamorphosis of the metaphors used for sin and mankind’s struggle to understand the relationship he shares with God and sin Anderson states that a definition of sin “has proved far more complicated than one might have imagined.” All the while the beloved apostle states rather concisely, “sin is the transgression of the law” (1 John 3:4 NASB).
In chapter two the author considers the metaphor most often used in the Hebrew Bible of sin as a burden to be borne. He states that the metaphor “is the crucial variable in understanding how a culture thinks about sin and forgiveness.” Anderson jumps the gun however in the first part of the chapter as he begins with a discussion of the syntax and vocabulary changes that took place during the Second Temple Period. Then he goes on to describe the theology of the scapegoat as well as a tortuous and slanted view of the punishment of Cain. Who, similar to most of humanity, seems more devastated at the consequences laid upon him by his sin being found out than for any weight felt from a guilty conscious.
Anderson concludes the first section in chapter three with a discussion of how the Aramaic influenced the metaphor of sin as a debt versus a burden during the second temple period. The chapter is valuable in the author’s tracing of the lexical meanings of the words associated with the sin as debt metaphor and does eventually come around to acknowledge that there is indeed a weight associate with the scales of justice and commerce. And while this is further developed later on in the book the obvious connection of the weight and debt metaphors is not advanced to the reader’s satisfaction. The author jumps headlong into the New Testament teaching of Jesus regarding prayer as an example of the ubiquitous nature of sin as a debt metaphor in the New Testament. However, the author never addresses the direct and indirect metaphors of sin as a weight found in other places in the New Testament (Heb 12:1; Matt 11:28–30; Gal 6:5).
In chapter four Anderson begins a new segment in order to look at the idea of atonement. If sin incurs a debt then just how is one to repay or satisfy the conditions of their indebtedness? The author here again leaves the reader confused in addressing a new line of thought supposedly developed during the Second Temple period (specifically addressing the second half of Isaiah). Looking back to the levitical sacrificial code he addresses the obvious sacrificial cost, payment, made by the offerer. To the observant reader the author herein contradicts his own premise. Sin indeed has consequences, both physically and spiritually, “For the wages of sin is death” (Rom 6:23), and what a weight that debt is to bear!
Chapter five and six, as well as much of the preceding chapter, Anderson relies heavily on the documentary hypothesis for support of his thesis. Anderson unintentionally challenges inspiration as he addresses Lev 25 and 26 in regard to the land, laborers and creditors and the linguistic problems and relationship with the noted text and the rest of Hebrew scripture. The reader can grow weary in the difficult and parsed discussion of the years of captivity being lengthened from seventy years to 490. At the end of chapter six the author does return to the dualistic ideas we mentioned earlier associated with weight and debt as described in the metaphor of a scales.
In chapter seven the reader will be blessed with a more coherent discussion than in the previous three chapters. The author in discussing the metaphor of sin as a debt concludes that God has “created a system of debits, credits, rewards, and punishments and has chose, for the most part, to operate within its confines.” He illustrates his point by looking at the stories of Lamech, Joseph, the four hundred years of oppression in Egypt (specifically the relationship prior to Israel’s bondage between Jacob and Esau), and the Day of Atonement. He rightly concludes from these stories, while he does make some assumptions, that it is “God’s right to mete out justice in accordance with human deeds.”
In chapter eight Anderson brings to close the second section but begins the most beneficial and insightful part of this work. For the modern reader the treaty on early Christian thinking concerning the idea of atonement is an invaluable resource. His interpretation of Col 2:13–15 is masterful and his exposition of just how the bond against us was satisfied in the death of Jesus of Nazareth, by looking at the views of Narsai, Jacob of Serug, and Augustine would be worthy of a volume of its own.
The third and final section takes a look at the idea of balancing debt with virtue. In chapter nine Anderson looks at Daniel’s advice to King Nebuchadnezzar that he may redeem his sins by almsgiving (Dan 4:24, 27). While other texts support the idea of paying for sins with punishment we now have a new concept. However, this is not really a new concept at all if we consider that the sacrificial offerings under the Mosaic Law were indeed a type of giving and support of the poor and the Lord’s work. As the author points out “To call almsgiving a gift in the sight of God calls to mind an offering or sacrifice that one might bring to the temple.” Yet Anderson points out that in the New Testament the idea of alms giving is directly associated with laying up treasures in heaven. Interesting he goes on to illustrate the connection here by stating that after the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem in 70 CE “Jews began to view charitable deeds as a replacement for the sacrifices they had once offered in the temple.”
Chapters ten and eleven will possibly be the most controversial of the entire work as Anderson addresses the obvious question sure to arise from his conclusions: “What about salvation and works?” Here the author does a masterful job bringing to light the fact that faith and works are inseparable. And if God is indebted to us by our faith in His promises then God does indeed owe us a reward. In other words the obedient, faithful child of God can earnestly expect God to do what He has promised in payment for our service to Him. The hand of the poor now serves as the altar of God; we are commanded to give, in faith, without limits, in order to receive a treasury in heaven. While the aspect of these chapters is well done the author’s conclusion that indulgencies are justified and biblical (apart from abuses) is overreached.
In the concluding chapter the author discusses the work of Anselm of Canterbury, Why God Became Man, a fitting conclusion to this discussion of the history of sin. Anderson looks at the soundness and biblical approach of Anselm and considers whether or not the sacrifice of Jesus was an act of sanctification or punishment and concludes with the typology of Jesus and Isaac.
In conclusion the work really does not do what the author sets out in the introduction to prove. The work is convoluted and is filled with presupposition and leaps in logic: an exercise in theological gymnastics. The author ignores supportive contradictory scriptures and relies heavy on the documentary hypothesis in order to come to certain necessary conclusions. However, the last half of the book as it deals with soteriology is more than worth the price of the volume and one could hope that Anderson, or someone else, would take on the task of expounding upon the foundation herein laid.
His most recent work, Sin: A History, Anderson advances the way in which metaphors for sin and atonement changed over the span of biblical history and developed both Jewish and Christian theology in the area of soteriology. Anderson clearly states that his desire is to show how the idea of sin as a debt developed within the pages of the Old Testament, and more specifically during the Second Temple period, replacing the idea of sin as a burden to be borne. While also showing how the theology of almsgiving emerged at the same time as the debt metaphor developing a cyclical pattern of sin and atonement in the Christian Age.
The book is divided into three segments. Part one introducing the history of sin and how sin, as the author describes it, produces a certain “thingness” that must be carried by the offender and then carried away in atonement. And how this “thing” that produced a weight gave way to the theology the “thing” being a debt. In part two the author sets forth to describe the development of this debt theology of sin from the Second Temple period. In the third section Anderson addresses the development of almsgiving as a means by which the debt is paid.
In chapter one Anderson sets out to define sin and leaves the reader unsatisfied as he fails to develop a workable and biblical definition. Claiming that the idea of sin “does not have the same meaning in the book of Genesis as it does in the book of Daniel of the Gospel of Matthew.” Because of the metamorphosis of the metaphors used for sin and mankind’s struggle to understand the relationship he shares with God and sin Anderson states that a definition of sin “has proved far more complicated than one might have imagined.” All the while the beloved apostle states rather concisely, “sin is the transgression of the law” (1 John 3:4 NASB).
In chapter two the author considers the metaphor most often used in the Hebrew Bible of sin as a burden to be borne. He states that the metaphor “is the crucial variable in understanding how a culture thinks about sin and forgiveness.” Anderson jumps the gun however in the first part of the chapter as he begins with a discussion of the syntax and vocabulary changes that took place during the Second Temple Period. Then he goes on to describe the theology of the scapegoat as well as a tortuous and slanted view of the punishment of Cain. Who, similar to most of humanity, seems more devastated at the consequences laid upon him by his sin being found out than for any weight felt from a guilty conscious.
Anderson concludes the first section in chapter three with a discussion of how the Aramaic influenced the metaphor of sin as a debt versus a burden during the second temple period. The chapter is valuable in the author’s tracing of the lexical meanings of the words associated with the sin as debt metaphor and does eventually come around to acknowledge that there is indeed a weight associate with the scales of justice and commerce. And while this is further developed later on in the book the obvious connection of the weight and debt metaphors is not advanced to the reader’s satisfaction. The author jumps headlong into the New Testament teaching of Jesus regarding prayer as an example of the ubiquitous nature of sin as a debt metaphor in the New Testament. However, the author never addresses the direct and indirect metaphors of sin as a weight found in other places in the New Testament (Heb 12:1; Matt 11:28–30; Gal 6:5).
In chapter four Anderson begins a new segment in order to look at the idea of atonement. If sin incurs a debt then just how is one to repay or satisfy the conditions of their indebtedness? The author here again leaves the reader confused in addressing a new line of thought supposedly developed during the Second Temple period (specifically addressing the second half of Isaiah). Looking back to the levitical sacrificial code he addresses the obvious sacrificial cost, payment, made by the offerer. To the observant reader the author herein contradicts his own premise. Sin indeed has consequences, both physically and spiritually, “For the wages of sin is death” (Rom 6:23), and what a weight that debt is to bear!
Chapter five and six, as well as much of the preceding chapter, Anderson relies heavily on the documentary hypothesis for support of his thesis. Anderson unintentionally challenges inspiration as he addresses Lev 25 and 26 in regard to the land, laborers and creditors and the linguistic problems and relationship with the noted text and the rest of Hebrew scripture. The reader can grow weary in the difficult and parsed discussion of the years of captivity being lengthened from seventy years to 490. At the end of chapter six the author does return to the dualistic ideas we mentioned earlier associated with weight and debt as described in the metaphor of a scales.
In chapter seven the reader will be blessed with a more coherent discussion than in the previous three chapters. The author in discussing the metaphor of sin as a debt concludes that God has “created a system of debits, credits, rewards, and punishments and has chose, for the most part, to operate within its confines.” He illustrates his point by looking at the stories of Lamech, Joseph, the four hundred years of oppression in Egypt (specifically the relationship prior to Israel’s bondage between Jacob and Esau), and the Day of Atonement. He rightly concludes from these stories, while he does make some assumptions, that it is “God’s right to mete out justice in accordance with human deeds.”
In chapter eight Anderson brings to close the second section but begins the most beneficial and insightful part of this work. For the modern reader the treaty on early Christian thinking concerning the idea of atonement is an invaluable resource. His interpretation of Col 2:13–15 is masterful and his exposition of just how the bond against us was satisfied in the death of Jesus of Nazareth, by looking at the views of Narsai, Jacob of Serug, and Augustine would be worthy of a volume of its own.
The third and final section takes a look at the idea of balancing debt with virtue. In chapter nine Anderson looks at Daniel’s advice to King Nebuchadnezzar that he may redeem his sins by almsgiving (Dan 4:24, 27). While other texts support the idea of paying for sins with punishment we now have a new concept. However, this is not really a new concept at all if we consider that the sacrificial offerings under the Mosaic Law were indeed a type of giving and support of the poor and the Lord’s work. As the author points out “To call almsgiving a gift in the sight of God calls to mind an offering or sacrifice that one might bring to the temple.” Yet Anderson points out that in the New Testament the idea of alms giving is directly associated with laying up treasures in heaven. Interesting he goes on to illustrate the connection here by stating that after the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem in 70 CE “Jews began to view charitable deeds as a replacement for the sacrifices they had once offered in the temple.”
Chapters ten and eleven will possibly be the most controversial of the entire work as Anderson addresses the obvious question sure to arise from his conclusions: “What about salvation and works?” Here the author does a masterful job bringing to light the fact that faith and works are inseparable. And if God is indebted to us by our faith in His promises then God does indeed owe us a reward. In other words the obedient, faithful child of God can earnestly expect God to do what He has promised in payment for our service to Him. The hand of the poor now serves as the altar of God; we are commanded to give, in faith, without limits, in order to receive a treasury in heaven. While the aspect of these chapters is well done the author’s conclusion that indulgencies are justified and biblical (apart from abuses) is overreached.
In the concluding chapter the author discusses the work of Anselm of Canterbury, Why God Became Man, a fitting conclusion to this discussion of the history of sin. Anderson looks at the soundness and biblical approach of Anselm and considers whether or not the sacrifice of Jesus was an act of sanctification or punishment and concludes with the typology of Jesus and Isaac.
In conclusion the work really does not do what the author sets out in the introduction to prove. The work is convoluted and is filled with presupposition and leaps in logic: an exercise in theological gymnastics. The author ignores supportive contradictory scriptures and relies heavy on the documentary hypothesis in order to come to certain necessary conclusions. However, the last half of the book as it deals with soteriology is more than worth the price of the volume and one could hope that Anderson, or someone else, would take on the task of expounding upon the foundation herein laid.
July 15, 2021
I read Anderson's earlier Genesis of Perfection: Adam and Eve in Jewish and Christian Imagination and really enjoyed it, so I decided to give this book a try as well. Like Genesis of Perfection, I found this book generally enjoyable and compelling, while taking most of Anderson's opinions with a grain (or two) of salt.
For example, Anderson's main argument (that there's a discernible progression in Jewish/Christian conceptions of sin throughout history, from sin as burden in the First Temple Period to sin as debt in the Second Temple Period and on into the medieval church) relies on a division of the Book of Isaiah into two (or even three) parts, with the first part (ch. 1-39) being written well before the second and third parts (ch. 40-66). This division--with which I disagree--is convenient to Anderson's argument, since the first verses of Isa. 40 offer a striking picture of sin as debt, which would contradict rather than support Anderson's argument had Isa. 40 been written within the First Temple Period along with the rest of the book. I also find Anderson's virtual unwillingness to deal with John 1:29 ("Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world"), and the sustained metaphor of Jesus as the Passover Lamb throughout the NT, disingenuous; this image constitutes a major counterexample to Anderson's thesis and deserves far more attention than the perfunctory endnote he allows it.
Besides these preliminary critiques, however, I think Anderson presents his main argument whimsically and convincingly, even if in an occasionally overstated manner.
For example, Anderson's main argument (that there's a discernible progression in Jewish/Christian conceptions of sin throughout history, from sin as burden in the First Temple Period to sin as debt in the Second Temple Period and on into the medieval church) relies on a division of the Book of Isaiah into two (or even three) parts, with the first part (ch. 1-39) being written well before the second and third parts (ch. 40-66). This division--with which I disagree--is convenient to Anderson's argument, since the first verses of Isa. 40 offer a striking picture of sin as debt, which would contradict rather than support Anderson's argument had Isa. 40 been written within the First Temple Period along with the rest of the book. I also find Anderson's virtual unwillingness to deal with John 1:29 ("Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world"), and the sustained metaphor of Jesus as the Passover Lamb throughout the NT, disingenuous; this image constitutes a major counterexample to Anderson's thesis and deserves far more attention than the perfunctory endnote he allows it.
Besides these preliminary critiques, however, I think Anderson presents his main argument whimsically and convincingly, even if in an occasionally overstated manner.
December 29, 2010
This book left me more confused than I was before I picked it up. In this case, it's not really a bad thing, though. The author's main point is to trace the development of the Christian metaphors of sin. He claims that sin was first conceived as a physical burden or weight but later became what it is today, a financial debt.
This is a book to read more to mine it for information than to be persuaded. He writes in a surprisingly accessible style for a more academic book, but there are simply way too many logical leaps and annoyingly slippery linguistic arguments. A few chapters in, I'd already lost faith in the author's own opinions. But he remains objective enough to make the read worth it.
Probably the most interesting part of the book was the author's defense of the God-as-accountant model of righteousness and salvation. His arguments were, for the most part, strong. Since I'm coming from a reformed background, it sounded weird and stretched me a lot.
In the end, I'm torn. He leaves a lot of loose ends, and I'm not even sure exactly what his main point was. On the other hand, the unsettled feeling the book left me with was sort of nice. Three starts for frustrating me but also making me think.
This is a book to read more to mine it for information than to be persuaded. He writes in a surprisingly accessible style for a more academic book, but there are simply way too many logical leaps and annoyingly slippery linguistic arguments. A few chapters in, I'd already lost faith in the author's own opinions. But he remains objective enough to make the read worth it.
Probably the most interesting part of the book was the author's defense of the God-as-accountant model of righteousness and salvation. His arguments were, for the most part, strong. Since I'm coming from a reformed background, it sounded weird and stretched me a lot.
In the end, I'm torn. He leaves a lot of loose ends, and I'm not even sure exactly what his main point was. On the other hand, the unsettled feeling the book left me with was sort of nice. Three starts for frustrating me but also making me think.
April 23, 2025
I remember very little from this book, though I found it interesting as I went through it. The main thing I walked away with is the power of metaphor. He argues that a running metaphor of sin was weight/burden early on, and this eventually became debt. I get the sense that for many biblical authors, shame was intricately tied to sin. They thought of sin as going beyond the fact that single bad action can have lasting consequences, to something that is more psychological in nature and potentially damaging, something rooted in a fixed mindset--something that is identity-forming in the worst conceivable way.
So, rather than just attempting to make things right with someone else, instead, even if we make restitution, the shame remains like an uncleanable stain--some blood atonement will be needed to disinfect it. I dunno, it seems to indicate possibly that aspects of atonement were linked to their concept of sin, which may not have been very healthy. Beliefs on sin as debt could have laid the groundwork for some of the most toxic elements in Catholic doctrine that have resulted in great harm.
While a New Testament word for sin, "missing the mark," is a better metaphor. For, in archery, if you miss the bullseye (the goal), you can try again, a miss needn't define you for life! Missing the mark can be seen as a mistake. With a child learning to walk, the target is walking, but they are bound to miss this mark, but rather than allowing it to define them (to be a continual crippling weight and debt) and thinking they are nothing but a crawler and feeling shame and condemnation, instead the toddler needs to get up again! The parents' role, within this imagery, is to encourage the child to get up and try again. A bad parent would shame and label the child, and an even worse parent would physically punish the child or a substitute in the child's place. That would be twisted as hell.
Anyhow, we need a metaphor for sin that is aligned with a growth mindset, otherwise, our metaphors of sin will make it more likely that we sin, that we become defined by it, feel shame and buy into repugnant understandings of atonement that suggest God is not good, just or wise.
So, rather than just attempting to make things right with someone else, instead, even if we make restitution, the shame remains like an uncleanable stain--some blood atonement will be needed to disinfect it. I dunno, it seems to indicate possibly that aspects of atonement were linked to their concept of sin, which may not have been very healthy. Beliefs on sin as debt could have laid the groundwork for some of the most toxic elements in Catholic doctrine that have resulted in great harm.
While a New Testament word for sin, "missing the mark," is a better metaphor. For, in archery, if you miss the bullseye (the goal), you can try again, a miss needn't define you for life! Missing the mark can be seen as a mistake. With a child learning to walk, the target is walking, but they are bound to miss this mark, but rather than allowing it to define them (to be a continual crippling weight and debt) and thinking they are nothing but a crawler and feeling shame and condemnation, instead the toddler needs to get up again! The parents' role, within this imagery, is to encourage the child to get up and try again. A bad parent would shame and label the child, and an even worse parent would physically punish the child or a substitute in the child's place. That would be twisted as hell.
Anyhow, we need a metaphor for sin that is aligned with a growth mindset, otherwise, our metaphors of sin will make it more likely that we sin, that we become defined by it, feel shame and buy into repugnant understandings of atonement that suggest God is not good, just or wise.
January 1, 2020
Sin is complex. Contemporary tribalism throughout Christianity exacerbates how it ought to be conceptualized. This book illustrates the historical development of that concept, and addresses the ways it has been legitimately articulated univocally, and in what ways its use remains vastly misunderstood, misinformed. and exaggerated. This history is a healthy corrective of many contemporary imaginings, tracing its use back to its roots.
It’s not a long book. It’s very engaging, methodical, unobtrusive, and it’s well researched (with over 30pages of helpful endnotes). I was especially intrigued by its layered use of ancient Syriac theologians, and the reception of their works throughout the west over the last millenia. Although western Christianity dominates the thought-world of today, this book paves a way through all history—both east and west, pre-reformation and post reformation— to retrieve the “biblical” and historical use of “sin”.
It’s not a long book. It’s very engaging, methodical, unobtrusive, and it’s well researched (with over 30pages of helpful endnotes). I was especially intrigued by its layered use of ancient Syriac theologians, and the reception of their works throughout the west over the last millenia. Although western Christianity dominates the thought-world of today, this book paves a way through all history—both east and west, pre-reformation and post reformation— to retrieve the “biblical” and historical use of “sin”.
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August 10, 2019Essentially looks at different conceptions of sin - is it a weight, a debt - and forgiveness. I thought some of the biblical and extra-biblical evidence he brought in was pretty weak, and I was annoyed at his description of penal substitutionary atonement - it didn’t sound to me much like what people who hold that theory believe. On the whole I did enjoy the book though, and I learned from it.
February 16, 2022
A book I'd like to revisit. I enjoyed the read, but I'm sure a lot of it went over my head at the time. This is the first book that really sparked my interest in the study of ancient languages to allow for a deep dive into Scripture.
November 19, 2017
Доста техническа, но не толкова трудна за четене книга. Оставя ме с повече въпроси отколкото отговори, но и с няколко много интересни и полезни наблюдения.
July 2, 2020
Tough read, and controversial depending on your own theological bias (Catholics would love it, most Protestants would likely not), but certainly worth it regardless.
August 8, 2010
This book was not quite the book I expected it to be, in that it is less about the concept of was is a sin than it is a book about how the view of what a sin effectively amounts to, and how the concept of sin and forgiveness has changed over time (with reference to the Old Testament, the writings of the Rabbis, and the New Testament). It is a complicated book, one for which I kept a separate bookmark to reference the notes, and one that goes into great depth concerning Hebrew and Aramaic words and word roots. But it is well worth the read, and brought up concepts that I found most valuable.
The author points out that in the Pentateuch, sin is regarded as a burden that is either laid upon a person (or a people), or which the person (or people) lays upon itself. (This is especially shown in the section in Leviticus which deals with the high priest laying the sins of the people on the scapegoat, which was then sent out into the wilderness.) By the time of the Second Temple (after the Exile), and on through into the New Testament, sin began to be regarded as a debt that needed to either be paid down by the sinner or else somehow be canceled out by God in his Mercy.
When the Temple was destroyed (first, by the Babylonians in the disaster that caused the Exile, and secondly, by the Romans in C.E. 70), an alternative method for gaining the forgiveness of sin other than by the sacrifices in the Temple had to be determined. The answer turned out to be through the giving of alms to the poor; and there are a multitude of references in the Old Testament and the New about how giving to the poor helps to create treasures in Heaven. (The author notes that while the sin as debt and good deeds as merits concept makes God sound like an accountant in a zero-sum system, being generous to the poor is a practice that generates infinitely more blessings than one would have any right to expect.)
The book ends with a section on just how Jesus Christ, by his death, atoned for our sins, following the argument put forth by Saint Anselm of Canterbury (died 1109). Adam and Eve, by their disobedience to God, created a debt that was owed by all of mankind, which mankind alone was unable to redeem. Only God had the means to pay down the debt, but the responsibility for the debt rested with humanity. The solution was for Jesus, as God and as Man, to freely submit out of love for humanity to the Cross, so as to fully pay down the debt.
I am sorry to be done with this book, and more sorry that it is a library book, and must soon go back to the library (in fact, it’s an inter-library loan book). And I am going to pay more attention to my alms-giving practices, so as to lay up more treasure in heaven.
The author points out that in the Pentateuch, sin is regarded as a burden that is either laid upon a person (or a people), or which the person (or people) lays upon itself. (This is especially shown in the section in Leviticus which deals with the high priest laying the sins of the people on the scapegoat, which was then sent out into the wilderness.) By the time of the Second Temple (after the Exile), and on through into the New Testament, sin began to be regarded as a debt that needed to either be paid down by the sinner or else somehow be canceled out by God in his Mercy.
When the Temple was destroyed (first, by the Babylonians in the disaster that caused the Exile, and secondly, by the Romans in C.E. 70), an alternative method for gaining the forgiveness of sin other than by the sacrifices in the Temple had to be determined. The answer turned out to be through the giving of alms to the poor; and there are a multitude of references in the Old Testament and the New about how giving to the poor helps to create treasures in Heaven. (The author notes that while the sin as debt and good deeds as merits concept makes God sound like an accountant in a zero-sum system, being generous to the poor is a practice that generates infinitely more blessings than one would have any right to expect.)
The book ends with a section on just how Jesus Christ, by his death, atoned for our sins, following the argument put forth by Saint Anselm of Canterbury (died 1109). Adam and Eve, by their disobedience to God, created a debt that was owed by all of mankind, which mankind alone was unable to redeem. Only God had the means to pay down the debt, but the responsibility for the debt rested with humanity. The solution was for Jesus, as God and as Man, to freely submit out of love for humanity to the Cross, so as to fully pay down the debt.
I am sorry to be done with this book, and more sorry that it is a library book, and must soon go back to the library (in fact, it’s an inter-library loan book). And I am going to pay more attention to my alms-giving practices, so as to lay up more treasure in heaven.
July 25, 2010
Sin traces the evolution of the Jewish concept of sin from the 1st Temple through the Roman period and then in early Christian conceptions, focusing somewhat on the east. The final bit is a somewhat unusual digression on St. Anselm of Canterbury, an 11th Century philosopher. The overarching idea is that the way a religion thinks of an abstract idea, like sin, can be explored through the metaphors they use for it.
The first bit of the book traces the evolution of the metaphor from one of a burden one must bear into the Second Temple idea of a debt, which must be repaid. Then the ideas surrounding the repayment of debt are explored, including the borrowing against a heavenly treasury built up by one's charity as well as that of the preceding generations.
Anderson's chapters on early Christian thought draw strongly from contemporary Aramaic texts, working from the idea that it was probably Jesus' native tongue. He then provides an interesting, and compelling answer to the question "How did Jesus' death on the cross actually redeem mankind from sin?", one which is not really explained by early Christian dogma the way that other foundational concepts are (The divine/humane nature for eg.). There is also some comparison between the writers of the early Christian east and the contemporary writers of the Talmud concluding with the importance of the specific act of almsgiving for repayment of the debt of sin.
Overall it is a complex, but well argued book. Though Anderson takes care to try and make it available to the layperson, some knowledge of the Bible as well as textual criticism is useful. I was only a bit disappointed that he didn't explore the concept of sin as polluting the land, in the laws of murder and the cities of refuge.
The first bit of the book traces the evolution of the metaphor from one of a burden one must bear into the Second Temple idea of a debt, which must be repaid. Then the ideas surrounding the repayment of debt are explored, including the borrowing against a heavenly treasury built up by one's charity as well as that of the preceding generations.
Anderson's chapters on early Christian thought draw strongly from contemporary Aramaic texts, working from the idea that it was probably Jesus' native tongue. He then provides an interesting, and compelling answer to the question "How did Jesus' death on the cross actually redeem mankind from sin?", one which is not really explained by early Christian dogma the way that other foundational concepts are (The divine/humane nature for eg.). There is also some comparison between the writers of the early Christian east and the contemporary writers of the Talmud concluding with the importance of the specific act of almsgiving for repayment of the debt of sin.
Overall it is a complex, but well argued book. Though Anderson takes care to try and make it available to the layperson, some knowledge of the Bible as well as textual criticism is useful. I was only a bit disappointed that he didn't explore the concept of sin as polluting the land, in the laws of murder and the cities of refuge.
November 11, 2016
The book is helpful for readers of scripture in identifying the underlying metaphor used in passages describing sin and atonement.
It also considers corporate dimensions of sin and forgiveness. Highlighting key passages of scripture (e.g. Isa 40.1-5). I’ve since found these passages were seen this way by the early church.
If there are people interested in learning more about these I would recommend the book to them.
The book also gives scriptural defenses for some Roman Catholic practice regarding payment of debts by almsgiving. However I would suggest you read James Akins, Salvation Controversy for a better understanding of why Catholics do that.
http://thescripturesays.org/2015/09/1...
It also considers corporate dimensions of sin and forgiveness. Highlighting key passages of scripture (e.g. Isa 40.1-5). I’ve since found these passages were seen this way by the early church.
If there are people interested in learning more about these I would recommend the book to them.
The book also gives scriptural defenses for some Roman Catholic practice regarding payment of debts by almsgiving. However I would suggest you read James Akins, Salvation Controversy for a better understanding of why Catholics do that.
http://thescripturesays.org/2015/09/1...
February 9, 2014
Nonsensically technical, especially over the various meanings ascribed to different Aramaic, Greek or Jewish words that might have gotten lost in translation, or make no sense when back-translated.
One interesting point was how Jesus dying on the cross was more of a act of love, rather than an act of being punished for our sins. Taking the punishment can at most balance the scales, while willingly going beyond what was necessary (dying on the cross) voided the debt contract by going over and above its terms.
A parallel was drawn to Adam, who followed Eve in her original sin so that they might not be separated, basically acting out of love.
One interesting point was how Jesus dying on the cross was more of a act of love, rather than an act of being punished for our sins. Taking the punishment can at most balance the scales, while willingly going beyond what was necessary (dying on the cross) voided the debt contract by going over and above its terms.
A parallel was drawn to Adam, who followed Eve in her original sin so that they might not be separated, basically acting out of love.
December 4, 2014
While I wasn't quite able to finish it (I read most of it, but it's finals week and it wasn't crucial that I read the whole thing for class), this was a really fascinating book. Anderson traces how the metaphors, and thus the conceptions, of sin change throughout the Bible and how that correlates with changes in the times and cultures of the Biblical writers. The section on early Christian theology of the atonement is particularly fascinating. In all, this was a good, if fairly technical, read.
February 7, 2011
Turned out to be more technical than I was interested in reading. It also had a LOT less to say than I expected about the transition of the typical conception of sin, from a weight/burden to a debt. It did pick up near the end, when it started talking more about New Testament stuff that I'm already casually familiar with, but I'm guessing that had more to do with me than with anything the book did.
September 18, 2010
Anderson traces the evolving metaphor of sin as a burden to be carried into a debt to be owed. The author then shows the implications of such on theories of the atonement. Aside from a couple notable reservations, this is an important work in biblical theology that should not be neglected.
August 13, 2016
Digging a bit deeper into the metaphors for sin and how the metaphors have changed based upon language, culture, and perspective.
May 24, 2011
Very thought-provoking look at the changing metaphor for sin in OT, inter-testamental, NT and Syriac patristic literature.
April 27, 2023
A good textual and theoretical study of sin.
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