We love him, because
he first loved us. (1 John 4:19)
Markus Barth wrote the following which focuses rather powerfully on the
love of God and love of Christ for humanity that informs a true, biblical
theology of the atonement:
Jesus does not ask
the Father to put grace before justice. Grace in the Old Testament sense (ḥen) is definitely not a dialectical
antithesis to a justice that works itself out in judgment proceedings, but a
synonym of divine justice. Grace means solid covenant truthfulness and special
concern for a man in need of help. In being true to his covenant and his
promise, God is true to himself. Even in his judging, his judicial concern is ultimately “setting things right” in a
judicious way . . . The intercession of the Son is not, however, confined to
words and cries. Even the intercessory prayers of the Old Testament did not
consist merely of sounds. Moses offered God his own life as a substitute for
the life that Israel had thrown away. According to one tradition he lay fasting
totally “for forty days prostrate before the Lord.” The high priest risked his
life when he went through the curtain into the sanctum sanctorum. Jeremiah came to the edge of despair—or crossed
over it—when he stood up for his people. Of the Suffering Servant it is said
not only that he was despised, beaten, suppressed, grieved as he took the guilt
of all upon himself in God’s name but also that he was “cut off from the land
of the living . . . struck to death.” . . .
. . . [B]lood is able
to magnify the human voice. It can show forth or call into being a totality of
commitment. When a child who has been run over cries or moans from the street,
the sympathy of all who have witnessed the accident is assured. But if his
blood flows on the pavement, sympathy can turn into direct or immediate action
in response to the misfortune or injustice that has taken place. The poured-out
blood of Abel “cries” from the ground to God, and God intervenes at once. Jesus’
blood “speaks even louder than the blood of Abel.”
All the biblical
references to the blood of Jesus Christ characterize his death as a sacrifice.
His death is a sacrifice in the biblical sense only because it was an act of
intercession for sinners. God had willed this total intercession, and out of
his faithfulness to God and his love for men, Jesus suffered death in making
his plea. Indeed, several among the most outstanding sacrifices described in
the Old Testament were in some way juridical acts in which God himself was
entreated to make a decision accepting or rejecting the sacrificer and in which
God’s judgment was pronounced. The death of Jesus Christ, which marks the
completion of his intercession, shows that justice and sacrifice, sacrifice and
faith (or obedience), judgment and love are in no way dialectical antitheses or
mutually exclusive polarities. On the contrary, they belong inseparably
together where a servant of God intends to “fulfil all righteousness.” He is a
true friend, representative, and helper of man who puts his own life on the
line before a judge. In his death, Jesus Christ shows a love that cannot be
greater. The sacrifice of Christ is not an alternative to complete obedience to
God and total love for man. It is their very sum and substance.
In suffering to the
death, Jesus Christ fulfils the Law and the Prophets. These require and promise
only that God be loved with the whole heart and that simultaneously the
neighbor be loved. Truthfulness to God reigns where mercy to the brothers
triumphs. Jesus Christ obeys God by loving the neighbor. He is “the fulfilment
of the law”—just as he was sent to “fulfil the requirements of the law among
us.” He reveals his love for the neighbor by giving God his due. To “give God
the glory” in the Bible means to confess one’s own guilt before God and
simultaneously to call on God with good confidence for mercy. The Jews and
Gentiles have not done this. As the only one to give God his due, Jesus shows
himself to be truly man. Not at the cost of his fellow men, but at the cost of
his own life, he demonstrates true humanity. True humanity is fellow-humanity.
In his praying and dying he brings the human condition before God. In his death among men he reveals what it
means to be God’s image. On earth, at a definite moment, he shows that this
image is not a dream or an ideal but a full and concrete reality. (Markus
Barth, Justification [Grand Rapids,
Mich.: Eerdmans, 1971], 42, 43, 44-45, emphasis in original)
