Abstract
In this book, a modified Cambridge dissertation, Grebe dialogues with Barth as a means of creatively re-examining election and atonement. Whereas much atonement theology insists on penal and substitutionary metaphors, Grebe construes the cross in cultic and participatory terms, claiming, ‘the heart of the atonement is not simply the overcoming of sin, but also the reconciliation achieved – the renewed covenantal fellowship between God and humanity’ (p. 165).
After a brief introduction, Grebe’s argument runs through four material chapters, with a fifth reserved for relating his discussion to the Holy Spirit and ordinary life. In the first chapter, Grebe analyses Barth’s doctrine of election. This will be well-known territory for those familiar with Barth. Particularly interesting, however, is Grebe’s careful engagement with Barth’s exegesis of Leviticus 16. This analysis proves important, for in the second chapter Grebe proffers an exegetical correction. Whereas Barth identifies Jesus with both goats in Leviticus 16 – the one killed as a sin offering and the rejected Azazel goat bearing sin into the wilderness – Grebe claims that Jesus should be identified only with the first. An important implication follows: Jesus ‘should be seen solely as the elect and not the rejected’ (p. 8).
In the third chapter Grebe furthers his argument by claiming that the atonement re-establishes humanity’s covenantal fellowship with God. He expands this claim in the fourth chapter by interacting with Barth’s account of the cross. Grebe worries about Barth’s ‘over-forensicism’ (p. 186) – the sense in which Barth’s atonement theology is hindered by an over-reliance on courtroom logic. When this happens, the cross threatens to become an event of punishment and abandonment that divides Father and Son.
Grebe thus makes a case for a cultic understanding of the atonement. Underlying this claim is a fresh account of the mechanics of cultic sacrifice. When a sinner lays hands upon the animal it is not sin that is transferred, but the sinner’s very identity. Thus the animal’s death represents the sinner’s death, and the animal’s closeness to God (the blood literally touches the ark of the covenant) re-establishes the sinner’s communion with God. On this reading, Jesus doesn’t bear sin (as the Azazel goat did); instead, he bears sinful humanity, thereby killing the sinner and re-establishing covenantal fellowship.
Thus rather than an act of punishment, the atonement should be imagined as a ‘Trinitarian event in which Father and Son … work perichoretically together for the salvation of humanity’ (p. 9). Proponents of penal substitution might worry here, but Grebe isn’t underplaying God’s No to sin. Rather, he shows how God at once speaks a Yes to Jesus and a No to sin through Jesus. Grebe thus attempts to avoid the extremes of both limited atonement and universalism, ultimately arguing for a vision of universal atonement that doesn’t imply universal salvation.
Would Grebe’s exegetical correction compel Barth to modify his claim that Jesus is both elected and rejected? It’s difficult to say. Yet Barth would certainly approve of Grebe’s suggested exegetical improvement. Indeed, had Barth known of it, he’d surely have deployed it – not where he did (his doctrine of election) but in his doctrine of reconciliation where he speaks eloquently about the universally inclusive nature of Christ’s work on the cross.
Seeing as ‘participation in Christ’ lies near the heart of Barth’s theological imagination, Barth would see Grebe as a friendly and constructive conversation partner. Indeed, Grebe notes that the constructive vision he offers isn’t entirely absent from Church Dogmatics (p. 192). Grebe’s project should therefore be read as an attempt to smooth over some seemingly contradictory and exegetically unsatisfactory aspects in Barth.
Grebe’s work will interest constructive theologians concerned with rethinking the atonement and the growing number who are attracted to the ‘theological interpretation of Scripture’. While much has been said about the latter on the theoretical level, Grebe provides something vital to the conversation – an example of how it looks in practice. The best way to engage this book – and Barth! – is with a Bible open next to you. In this sense, Grebe shows himself to be the best type of ‘Barthian’ – one who learns from Barth materially and methodologically without remaining trapped within Barth’s conclusions.