7. Medieval Theories

In turning to the medieval period, we remind ourselves that our aim is not to survey even the most prominent medieval thinkers regarding the atonement but to highlight theories of the atonement that came to prominence during this period. The most important of these is undoubtedly the so-called satisfaction theory of the atonement broached by Anselm of Canterbury.

Anselm’s Cur Deus homo (1098) was the first systematic exploration of the doctrine of the atonement, a work of unsurpassed importance in the history of the doctrine and a watershed between the patristic and medieval periods. Although Anselm’s comprehensive atonement theory incorporates major elements of the Christus Victor theory, including God’s victory over Satan and even a rationale for His not achieving this victory directly (1.23; 2.19), the fundamental thrust of Anselm’s theory is very different.

Anselm’s main complaint about the Christus Victor theory is that it is on its own inadequate to explain why God would take the extraordinary step of sending His Son to suffer and die in order to redeem mankind. In contrast to Christus Victor theorists, Anselm argues that the salvation of mankind is about much more than defeating Satan. It is about making satisfaction to God for man’s sins. And that necessitated the incarnation and suffering of Christ.

Anselm’s satisfaction theory is unfortunately often misrepresented in the secondary literature. It is typically said by detractors that Anselm’s fundamental concern is the restoration of God’s honor, which has been besmirched by man’s sin. Anselm is said to portray God as a sort of feudal monarch, whose wounded ego demands some satisfaction before the insult is forgiven. Since God would be all the greater if He magnanimously forgave the insult without demanding satisfaction, Anselm’s theory fails to show that Christ’s atoning death was necessary.

However, a careful reading of Anselm reveals that his fundamental concern is with God’s essential justice and its moral demands. Sin is materially bringing dishonor to God, but the reason God cannot just overlook the offense is that it would be unjust to do so and thus would contradict God’s very nature.

Anselm defines sin as the failure to render to God His due. What is God’s due? It is that “Every wish of a rational creature should be subject to the will of God.” Anselm says, “This is justice, or uprightness of will, which makes a being just or upright in heart, that is, in will; and this is the sole and complete debt of honor which we owe to God, and which God requires of us.” So the honor we owe to God is to be just or upright in will. “He who does not render this honor which is due to God, robs God of his own and dishonors him; and this is sin” (Cur Deus homo 1.11).

So given the moral character of dishonoring God, Anselm asks “whether it were proper for God to put away sins by compassion alone, without any payment of the honor taken from him?” Anselm responds negatively: “To remit sin in this manner is nothing else than not to punish; and since it is not right [recte] to cancel sin without compensation or punishment; if it be not punished, then it is passed by undischarged” (Cur Deus homo 1.12). The concern here is not merely with propriety but with its being wrong to leave sin unpunished. The concern is justice. “Truly such compassion on the part of God is wholly contrary to the Divine justice, which allows nothing but punishment as the recompense of sin” (1.24). The fundamental problem, then, is not honor but justice. Anselm’s primary concern, then, is ethical and not merely with insulted dignity.

It is intriguing that Anselm sees the relevance of a Divine Command Theory of ethics to his concern with justice. For on a Divine Command Theory, God does not have any duties to fulfill, since duties are constituted by divine imperatives, and God, presumably, does not issue commands to Himself. But if God is not bound by any moral duties, it makes no sense to speak of His acting unjustly. So, Anselm asks, since God is subject to no law and His will determines what is right, why does He, being supremely merciful, not just ignore the injury done to Him (Cur Deus homo 1.12)? In reply Anselm gives the correct response to the Euthyphro Dilemma: “There is nothing more just than supreme justice, which . . . is nothing else but God himself” (1.13). God is not at liberty to do “anything improper for the Divine character.” Since “the nature of God” sets limits to divine liberty, “it does not belong to his liberty or compassion or will to let the sinner go unpunished” (1.12). “Therefore, as God cannot be inconsistent with himself, his compassion cannot be of this nature” (1.24). The character or nature of God Himself necessitates that He punish sin.

Anselm allows, in fact, two ways of meeting the demands of God’s justice: punishment or compensation (satisfactio). Anselm defines compensation or satisfaction as “voluntary payment of the debt” (Cur Deus homo 1.19). There has been considerable scholarly debate about the roots of Anselm’s notion of satisfaction. Some detect the influence of Germanic law, which allowed for crimes to be pardoned in consideration of a voluntary pecuniary compensation which was not considered punitive. Other historians of doctrine have found the distinction between compensation and punishment already in Roman law and trace Anselm’s notion of satisfaction to the sacrament of penance in the early church, where a satisfaction was required as a condition of reconciliation. However one decides this historical question, what is clear is that in Anselm’s theory a satisfaction is not any kind of punishment. “Despite the divergent judgments of the tradition-historical provenance and character of the satisfaction concept,” writes Wenz, “one can still establish an essential agreement that the background of the Anselmian doctrine of satisfaction displays the conception of a substitutionary work wrought by meritorious effort [Vorstellung eines durch verdienstliche Leistung zu erbringenden Ersatzwerkes] which is independent of the thought of bearing punishment.”

Anselm’s theory ought therefore properly to be called the compensation theory of the atonement, since that is what a satisfactio was. It is natural for English-speaking readers to think that Anselm’s theory is a satisfaction theory in the sense that a precondition of divine forgiveness of sins is the satisfaction of the demands of divine justice. But while that characterization fits Anselm’s theory, it fails to state a sufficient condition for a theory’s being correctly classified as a satisfaction theory in the Anselmian sense. For the Reformers also typically held that human salvation requires the satisfaction of divine justice, but this was achieved through substitutionary punishment, not compensation (satisfactio), so that their and Anselm’s theories are quite distinct. What makes a theory a satisfaction theory in the Anselmian sense is the way in which the demands of divine justice are satisfied, namely, by compensation. The label “satisfaction theory” is now too deeply entrenched to change, so we must simply exercise care in using it and in speaking of the satisfaction of divine justice.

Anselm thus presents the atonement theorist with a choice: since the demands of divine justice must be met, there must be either punishment of or compensation for sin. Anselm chose the second alternative, since he naturally assumed that punishment would result in mankind’s eternal damnation. By contrast, the later Protestant Reformers chose the first alternative, holding that Christ bore the punishment we deserved. Anselm and the Reformers are therefore on the same footing: for salvation to be possible, the demands of divine justice must somehow be met.

Anselm insists on compensation being made to God for the injustice done Him. But how can we render compensation to God? The difficulty we face in paying our debt, Anselm explains, is that there is nothing we can give to God by way of compensation for our sin, since we already owe Him total obedience. Our situation is compounded by the fact that in order to compensate God we need to give back more than we owed originally and by the gravity of our offense, having dishonored God, so that the debt we have incurred is of infinite proportion. So no one but God could pay a debt of such magnitude, but no one but man is obliged to pay it. It follows that our salvation requires that God become man. “If it be necessary, therefore, . . . that the heavenly kingdom be made up of men, and this cannot be effected unless the aforesaid satisfaction be made, which none but God can make and none but man ought to make, it is necessary for the God-man to make it” (Cur Deus homo 2.6).

Anselm affirms that in the incarnation of the second person of the Trinity, two complete natures are united in one person (Cur Deus homo 2.7). The gift that the incarnate Christ presents to God can be found in nothing other than him, and so he must give himself to God. Since Christ was sinless, he was under no obligation to die. By voluntarily laying down his life, he gives to God a gift of infinite value that he did not owe (2.11). On Anselm’s view Christ does not die in our place or pay the penalty for our sins; rather, he offers a compensation to God on our behalf. When Anselm affirms that Christ “allowed himself to be slain for the sake of justice” (2.18b), one must keep in mind that the demands of justice can be satisfied by either punishment or compensation. Christ offers compensation.

How, then, does the gift of Christ’s life win our salvation? Anselm says that divine justice requires God the Father to reward the Son for the gift of his life. But how can a reward be bestowed on someone who needs nothing and owes nothing? The Son therefore gives the reward to those for whose salvation he became incarnate. He remits the debt incurred by their sins and bestows on them the beatitude they had forfeited (Cur Deus homo 2.19). Anselm suggests that we become the beneficiaries of Christ’s reward through “faith in the Gospel” and by making the Son an offering for ourselves with the love that he deserves (2.20).

Anselm’s satisfaction theory was to exert a profound and enduring influence upon Christian theology, making it all the more remarkable that the Protestant Reformers were able to shake themselves loose from it. Subsequent medieval thinkers typically thought of Christ’s atonement in terms of his making compensation to God on our behalf for the debt we had incurred through sin. Thomas Aquinas, for example, takes up Anselm’s satisfaction theory as a part of his omnibus account of the atonement. Christ’s passion, he says, has a threefold effect: insofar as it frees us from the servitude of guilt, it acts by way of redemption; insofar as it reconciles us to God, it acts by way of sacrifice; and insofar as it liberates us from the debt of punishment, it acts by way of satisfaction (Summa theologiae 3.48.6 ad 3). In discussing whether Christ’s passion brought about our salvation by way of satisfaction (per modum satisfactionis), Aquinas affirms that this is indeed the case: “He properly atones for an offense [proprie satisfacit pro offensa] who offers something which the offended one loves equally, or even more than he detested the offense. But by suffering out of love and obedience, Christ gave more to God than was required to compensate for the offense of the whole human race [Deo exhibuit quam exigeret recompensatio totius offensae humani generis]” (3.48.2). Though he quotes Isaiah 53:4, Aquinas does not explicate Christ’s passion in terms of substitutionary punishment; rather, Christ’s passion delivers us from the debt of punishment in that it was the “sufficient and superabundant satisfaction for the sins of the whole human race: but when sufficient satisfaction has been paid, then the debt of punishment is abolished” (3.49.3).

Where Aquinas departs significantly from Anselm is with respect to the necessity of rendering satisfaction for our debt of punishment as a precondition of divine forgiveness and salvation. Aquinas reverts to the view of many of the Church Fathers that God could have simply remitted men’s sins without satisfaction, had He so wished. Not merely that some other means of meeting the demands of divine justice could have been found apart from compensation—more radically, the demands of divine justice might simply have been waived. There is no necessity that God observe the order of divine justice that He has established requiring satisfaction for sin. “Even this justice depends on the Divine will, requiring satisfaction for sin from the human race. But if He had willed to free man from sin without any satisfaction, He would not have acted against justice” (Summa theologiae 3.46.2 ad 3). God’s choosing to save us by means of rendering satisfaction for the debt of punishment we owe was God’s contingent choice.

God’s contingent choice of requiring satisfaction for sin and of Christ’s passion in particular as the means of satisfaction was not arbitrary but well motivated as the best way of achieving human salvation. Aquinas lists the numerous benefits of God’s achieving salvation via Christ’s passion:

So Aquinas can consistently affirm that the order of divine justice requires satisfaction for sin but that this requirement is contingent.

Anselm and Thomas thus offer two versions of the satisfaction theory, which we may characterize as necessitarian and non-necessitarian, respectively. On a necessitarian account, forgiveness and salvation are not possible without the satisfaction of divine justice, whereas on a non-necessitarian account, forgiveness and salvation depend only contingently upon the satisfaction of divine justice. This differentiation is not unique to satisfaction theories. As we shall see, both necessitarian and non-necessitarian versions of penal substitution also eventually developed.

The other theory of the atonement that emerged during the Middle Ages and that eventually became enormously influential was the so-called moral influence theory. According to theories of this type, Christ’s death achieved our reconciliation with God not by offering some compensation to God or ransoming us from the devil but by moving our hearts to contrition and love as we contemplate Christ’s voluntarily embracing horrible suffering and death. Nothing actually transpired between God and man at Jesus’ crucifixion. No debt was paid, no sins were punished. The entire power of the cross to achieve reconciliation lies in its exemplary force to produce a subjective impact on us.

The thinker traditionally associated with the moral influence theory of the atonement is the twelfth-century logician and theologian Peter Abelard. In his comments on Romans 3:24-26, Abelard seeks to explain how Christ’s death achieves reconciliation. He follows Anselm in rejecting the ransom theory on the grounds that Satan has no right over human beings that God must respect. This raises the question, “What need was there, I say, for the Son of God, for the sake of our redemption, when he received flesh to endure so many great fasts, reproaches, lashings, spitting, and finally the most violent and shameful death of the cross?” This is the same question that drove Anselm’s inquiry. But Abelard does not seem to be persuaded by Anselm’s answer that Christ’s death is a compensatory gift to God. He exclaims, “How very cruel and unjust it seems that someone should require the blood of an innocent person as a ransom, or that in any way it might please him that an innocent person be slain, still less that God should have so accepted the death of his Son that through it he was reconciled to the whole world!” (Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans 2).

Anselm had met this same objection by insisting that “God the Father . . . did not compel him to suffer death, nor even allow him to be slain against his will, but of his own accord he endured death for the salvation of man” (Cur Deus homo 1.8). Anselm’s reply corrects the misimpression that God demanded the blood of an innocent person, but it remains the case that on the satisfaction theory God is pleased with the Son’s free gift of his life and so is reconciled to the world.

Abelard’s answer to the objection is quite different:

Here Abelard seems to suggest that atonement is accomplished by Christ’s igniting in us a flame of love by means of his teaching and example, persevering even unto death. Abelard even suggests that persons prior to Christ’s advent were similarly moved by looking forward to the manifestation of God’s love in Christ. Still, “each one is also made more righteous after the Passion of Christ than before; that is, he loves God more, because the completed benefit kindles him in love more than a hoped-for benefit.” Abelard concludes, “Therefore, our redemption is that supreme love in us through the Passion of Christ, which not only frees us from slavery to sin, but gains for us the true liberty of the sons of God, so that we may complete all things by his love rather than by fear” (Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans 2).

Noteworthy is the fact that whereas the view that Abelard found objectionable was that God needed to be reconciled to the world by Christ’s death, Abelard’s view is that we need to be reconciled to God by Christ’s death. Albrecht Ritschl nicely captures this difference between Abelard and Anselm’s theories by distinguishing a God-ward and a man-ward function of Christ’s work. “The part of Christ’s work that relates to God is ranked by Anselm above that which relates to men. But, in Abelard’s view, God’s love towards men as displayed in Christ—in His incarnation, in His teaching, and His passion—is the leading thought upon which depends the effect of the intercession directed to God by the incarnate God.” Since the rise of classical liberal theology, it has become almost an axiom among contemporary theologians that God does not need to be reconciled to sinners; the entire obstacle lies on our side. Our hearts need to be changed so that our hostility to God evaporates and we embrace His love. So Abelard sees atonement with God achieved as Christ’s passion enkindles our hearts and inspires love for God within us. We are liberated from sin as we come to love God more and so become more righteous.

Now, taken in isolation, the moral influence theory might seem far too thin an account to do justice to the NT data concerning God’s wrath, Christ’s substitutionary death, justification, and so on. It seems to amount to little more than moral self-improvement inspired by Christ’s example. Bernard of Clairvaux, Abelard’s contemporary, saw clearly the inadequacy of a pure moral influence theory: Absent the redemptive death of Christ, his humility and charity “are as if you were to paint on the air. A very great and most necessary example of humility, a great example of charity, and one worthy of all acceptation, has He set us; but they have no foundation, and, therefore, no stability, if redemption be wanting.”

However, scholars have recently called into question the assumption that the above, oft-quoted passage from Abelard’s commentary represents Abelard’s full atonement theory rather than one facet of it. In his comment on Romans 4:25 Abelard writes:

In this passage Abelard appears to endorse a vague sort of penal substitution on Christ’s part. Abelard affirms that Christ bore the punishment for our sins, thereby removing the punishment from us. The moral influence of Christ’s death mentioned in the final clause of the sentence is now seen to be but a part of a more comprehensive theory—just as it was for Anselm, who also speaks of the influence of Christ’s example of voluntary suffering (Cur Deus homo 2.11.18b).

Aquinas, even more than Anselm, also stressed the man-ward function of Christ’s passion in reconciling us to God. As one facet of a more complex theory, the moral influence theory makes a valuable contribution to understanding how the benefits won by Christ’s death come to be appropriated.

The satisfaction theory came to stamp indelibly Catholic theology, while the moral influence theory has, since the rise of classical liberalism in Protestant theology, come to exert an influence on thinking about the atonement that is perhaps even more far reaching. We turn our attention next to the Protestant Reformers, who in their commitment to sola Scriptura sought to enunciate a theory of the atonement more reflective of biblical teaching.