Jesus Christ our Redeemer

REASONS FOR BELIEVING (6)

Jesus Christ our Redeemer

How do we look on the Cross?

An English woman recently visited an ‘underground’ Catholic church in China. It took some persuasion before a taxi driver would take her there. When they arrived at the location, he drove up and down, unsure of where the church was. She pointed out to him a building with a cross. He had missed the building because he did not know that the cross was a symbol of Christianity.

This seems odd to us because the cross of Jesus is such a universal Christian symbol. Certainly the style varies.  In the Eastern tradition there is usually, though not always, a triumphant Christ the High Priest. In the Protestant tradition the cross is often left empty. One reason for this is to remind believers that “he is not here~ for he has risen.” (Matt 28:6) In Western Catholic churches, the agony of Christ is usually depicted with the figure of Jesus nailed and bleeding. Devotion to the five wounds of Christ and later to the Sacred Heart focussed on the suffering of Jesus as the source of our redemption. But however differently it may be portrayed, the cross is universal. The failure of the Chinese taxi driver to recognise it is a surprise to us.

Yet for many Christians today, the cross is perhaps more of an emotional symbol than a matter of doctrine. Countless suffering and wounded people have found great consolation in contemplating the passion of Jesus. To think of how much he suffered can move us greatly when we understand and believe that he did all this because he loves us—because he loves me. Such considerations can bring about a grace filled conversion of life, they can deepen the prayer of the devout Christian and they can fuel the flame of love in the saint. However, in a world that tends to discard the certainties of faith, a purely emotional approach is not enough. We cannot allow the meaning of the cross of Jesus Christ to be based purely on a personal feeling. We also need to ask the questions that have been asked since the apostles first went to the nations to tell of “this Jesus whom you crucified” (Acts 2:36). Why was it necessary for Christ to suffer and die? How does the death of Christ on the cross help us?

Jesus the ‘Good Example’

An easy approach for the modern world to accept would be to focus on the fine example of Jesus. “Here is a man who persevered in what he believed, even at the cost of his life. Here is an example of outstanding generosity. We can all learn from such a shining model of virtue.” By limiting ourselves to affirming that Jesus set a good example, we could avoid the central questions of faith such as “Is Jesus truly God?”, “Do we need to be redeemed?” or “Does the cross redeem us from our sins?”. Jesus would be a moral leader in the secular line-up of worthy figures who have made the world a better place. Naturally, such an approach is deeply unsatisfying for a Christian who truly believes the scriptures and the creeds of the early Church. Our Lord is more than a good example. St Paul taught, “In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses.” (Eph 1:7) The cross does so much more than just inspire us.

Jesus ‘took the Punishment’

In ordinary language the word ‘redemption’ means ‘buying back’ as, for example, when we redeem something that has been pledged in a pawnbrokers. In Christian thought the precise meaning  of  the  term  is  an  important  subject  of  discussion.  There are various theories concerning how Jesus ‘buys us back’, takes away our sins and restores us to holiness.

Many Christians either consciously or unconsciously adopt what we can call a ‘punitive’ theory of the redemption, which can be characterised as follows. Our sins deserve punishment. God is just and fair and so he cannot waive the punishment that our sins deserve. So what can we do? Are we all lost? No! Because Jesus took the punishment for us. All that our sins deserved from the very beginning, all that God simply had to inflict in his justice~ all this was taken by Jesus in his suffering and death on the cross. And so we are freed from the punishment without God the Father having to go back on his word or lessen the demands of perfect justice.

Some Christians, especially evangelical Protestants, consciously adhere to this theory of the redemption.  Because their faith in God is unshakeable, they will simply believe, regardless of the possible problems or objections that a particular doctrine raises. Many others would find this theory somewhere in the hazy, half remembered understanding of their faith. Much easier for them simply to focus on the love of Jesus, but if pushed they would imagine that this is more or less what the doctrine of the redemption is about.

The problems with any punitive theory of redemption are insurmountable. They are particularly worrying problems for a secular society which has largely lost any residual faith in God. We could not possibly defend belief in a God who was so inflexible and vindictive that he would allow his own Son to suffer torments simply because he had to fulfil the demands of justice. It could also be argued that there is, in fact, a great injustice in the punishment of Christ—who is perfectly innocent—in order to take away punishment from those who are in fact guilty. Justice would logically demand that the guilty should be punished.

Nor do the scriptures remotely indicate a God of this sort. After the Israelites worshipped the golden calf, Moses interceded “and the Lord repented of the evil which he thought to do to his people” (Ex 32:14). After the Ninevites repented in sackcloth and ashes, God had compassion on them and did not bring upon them the destruction he had threatened (Jonah 3:10). God is shown as one who never desired the death even of a wicked man, but rather that he convert and live (Ezek 18:23).

In the light of all these considerations we need to understand first of all the effect of sin and the idea of divine justice. We need to understand the will and plan of God from the beginning, quite apart from sin. We need to understand why Christ’s death was “necessary” (cf. Luke 24:26) and how it restores our communion with God. If we do so, we may look on the cross with open minds as well as open hearts.  We  can  certainly  still  drink  in  the consolation  of the  love  of Christ  for  us  who  laid  down his life for  his sheep  (cf.  John 10:11,15), but we will be able to do so with confidence also in a loving Father who sent him.

Sin has real Effects

Redemption is not necessary unless there is something we need to be redeemed from. Western society has, to a large extent, dispensed with the need for redemption because it has dispensed with the reality of sin. This might look surprising to future generations when they consider the acts of genocide that have characterised the past century. Nevertheless, for very many people, the idea that “I am a sinner in need of redemption” is puzzling. We are ready to admit weaknesses and mistakes, we easily acknowledge the limitations of our upbringing, and we comfort ourselves with the affirmation that nobody is perfect. The sense of sin as something we do, for which we are personally responsible, and by which we damage ourselves and others is very much weakened. And the sense of sin as something which damages our relationship with the God who loves us is almost entirely forgotten.

A powerful influence in this loss of the personal sense of sin is the libertarian moral philosophy which was nurtured so strongly in England and which influences so much modern legal and political thinking. It could be summed up as the assertion, “It doesn’t matter what you do as long as it doesn’t harm others.” Following on the heels of the philosophy of Jeremy Bentham and John Stuart Mill, 1 it is concerned with the greatest happiness of the greatest number. If we permit people to do more or less as they want, they will be happy, so the thinking goes.  This libertarian creed seems to have a community dimension.  However it entirely ignores the true basis of human community. Whether we like it or not, we are bound together organically as members of the human family. There cannot be any purely private sin or, for that matter, any purely private virtue. The person that I am, and the person that I become through my good or evil actions, affects my brothers and sisters in society.

When the effects of sin in society reach worrying levels of violence and disaffection among the young, there are calls for “something to be done”. Secular attempts to address the problem fluctuate between harsher prison sentences and the nationwide imposition of citizenship classes in primary schools. But the damage cannot be repaired. The victims of robbery and violence continue to live in fear~ those abused and damaged by addicts of sexual pleasure  continue  to  suffer,  sometimes  even perpetuating  or  colluding  in the abuse of a subsequent  generation.  In  the  person  of  the  sinner  the  soul  diminishes  in  its  power  in proportion to the person’s addiction to sin. By choosing what is contrary to our good we cause damage that is, in human terms, irrevocable. There is a ‘loss of being’, a weakening of what we are. This lessening of the power of our own soul also weakens the human community to which we belong.

This damage in our nature ultimately dates back to the beginning of human history, when the first human beings turned away from God’s love and guidance for them.  The resulting breakdown of the harmony of God’s creation is described with great insight in the book of Genesis (3:7,1419). This original sin, and the worsening of its effects throughout the whole human race and throughout human history is a spiritual disaster.2

If sin causes real damage, then we can see that the idea of redemption merely being Jesus “taking our punishment” is not only distasteful, as we saw earlier~ it is inadequate. Simply “letting us off” or writing off a bad debt is not enough. We are damaged by sin and we need healing and restoration. The scale of this work of restoration is awesome, utterly beyond any human capability. We look to Christ to achieve nothing less than this tremendous work of redemption.

Christ our Saviour

The need for a remedy for sin is so powerful that there is a strong tradition in Catholic thought which  sees  Christ’s  coming  in  the  flesh  exclusively  in  terms  of his  saving  us  from sin. However, there is another strong current of Catholic thought which sees the Incarnation first of all as something positive: “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” (John 10:10)  It  is  in  this  latter  tradition  that  the  Faith  movement  has  always  presented  the Incarnation of Christ our Saviour.3  Here the word Saviour is used in a positive way for the giver of life and fulfilment. So we are taken back to meditate upon the very reason for creation itself.

In pondering the universe that  we study in the natural sciences, we find a ‘going concern’, a cosmos, not a chaos. If the universe is an ordered cosmos, then it makes sense for us to decipher its structure. Through the study of the natural sciences we discover laws and constants in the universe. We refine our expression of these laws as our knowledge increases, all the time building on the observations, labour and intellectual effort of those who have preceded us. The emerging pattern of laws and constants, indeed the whole harmony and design of the cosmos, reveal meaning and purpose. They point us to a supreme Mind or Wisdom who made the world and the laws which control and direct it. They point us to God. They also show us that God is working out his purpose for creation, from beginning to end, through a unified wisdom or law which can be called a UnityLaw of Control and Direction.4

This law embraces and unifies all the laws of the natural sciences, but it also embraces the moral and religious laws of the spiritual realm too.

Thus, when we turn to man, who is not just physical but spiritual as well, we are even more aware of that same almighty Wisdom, who created all things for fulfilment, and not as mere playthings. And the fulfilment of spiritual creatures is for God to bring them into the highest union with himself which even he can give.

If we are to receive that gift, then God will have to give it in a way that corresponds to how we are made: not just spiritually but physically as well. This is why Christ came into the world: so that we could meet and know and love God completely, yet in a genuinely human way. It is only by coming into contact with Christ, truly man as well as truly God, that we human beings can receive the fulfilment for which we were made. St Peter, in one of the most daring phrases of the scriptures, says that through Christ we become “cosharers of the divine nature” (2 Pet 1:4). This means that through Christ we share in God’s eternal life. This is what we were created for in the beginning, the climax towards which God was directing everything through the UnityLaw. Thus God planned from the beginning—even before the first sin—that his Son should come into the world.

This  is  why the  Jews  always  looked  forward  to  the coming  of the Messiah,  the ‘Anointed One’ (in Greek the Christos, from which we have the word Christ). At the time of Jesus many people expected that the Messiah would be a political revolutionary, one who would rid the Promised Land of the hated Roman invaders. But taking the cosmic view of God’s salvation outlined above, we see the Messiah, the “one who is to come” (Matt 11:3, John 11:27), as truly the King of kings, destined to come into his inheritance. He is the one who will bring that inheritance to its fulfilment by communicating the life of God through the flesh.

The salvation of God in the Old Testament is usually presented in terms of the triumph of God’s authority through rescuing his people from their enemies. However, even at this level, salvation is not simply the arbitrary protection of a favourite, as though God favoured the Jews in the same way that some people would like him to favour their chosen football team. The salvation of God is always the reclaiming of what is right and good from the beginning. So it is that this salvation is acknowledged not only by the people but by the whole of creation. When the Ark of the Covenant is brought to Jerusalem after the defeat of the Philistines, the song which David appointed Asaph to sing has this cosmic dimension:

Let the heavens be glad, and let the earth rejoice, and let them say among the nations “The Lord reigns!” Let the sea roar, and all that fills it, let the field exult, and everything in it! Then shall the trees of the wood sing for joy before the Lord, for he comes to judge the earth. (1 Chron 16:3133)

The picture is one of all creation acknowledging the sovereignty of God, and the eternal purpose of God to bring all things to fulfilment. This purpose is partially accomplished through the victory of his servant David. That victory is itself a prophecy that God’s purpose will be fulfilled in Jesus, the Son of David. This song can be seen to foreshadow the triumphal entry of Christ into Jerusalem. In response to the Pharisees’ complaints about the Hosannas of the children, he quotes Psalm 8: “Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings you have brought perfect praise.” (Matt 21:16) The psalm speaks of the Son of Man, made little less than a god, given dominion over the earth. So the Son of Man comes to his own and, as St Luke records, says that if the children did not cry out, the very stones would acknowledge his Lordship (Luke 19:40).

In the parable of the unjust vineyard tenants (Matt 21:3343), we can see very clearly that the original purpose of the Father is that his Son should come to claim the inheritance: “They will respect my son” (21:37). The produce of the vineyard is the creation of God, destined for union with him. Christ himself has strengthened the analogy still further by saying that he is the vine and we are the branches (John 15:5). He intends us to draw life from himself. That was God’s original plan. In the parable it is only the wickedness of the usurpers that brings about the death of the son, when they should instead have given him what rightly belongs to him.

“Father, glorify me”

From the last discourse of Christ to the disciples, we can see how the plan of God to draw us into the fullest relationship with himself is achieved. Christ prays to the Father: “Father, glorify me in your own presence with the glory which I had with you before the world was made.” (John 17:5) Jesus cannot be asking for God’s glory to be given to his divine nature. Divinity is not something that can be discarded and taken up again. He is asking for the glory of God, the very life of the Godhead, to be communicated to his human nature, and through him to all those who share in his life. It is his intention to communicate to us his divine life and glory through the human nature which he shares with us. The glory of God, before the world was made, was to be shared with us, the creatures made in his own image and likeness. Christ came so that he could share our human nature and bring about the fulfilment of God’s purpose for us: to make us cosharers in his divine nature.5

We now have the context in which to view the redemption of the human race from sin.

The Promised Christ had to suffer

We see in everyday life that good people suffer, and indeed the more deeply they love, the more searingly they seem to suffer. The reasons for this are many. In the first place there is the sadness and anguish we experience when someone we love is hurt. Deeper still is the anguish of seeing a loved one commit sin, deliberately turning away from what is good and true. A vivid example of this is provided by a good parent, priest or nun who sees those in their care, whom they love, corrupted by the world—and yet they still love them.

However, holy people will also experience a more direct persecution. They will suffer because of the rejection of their love by others, because of advantage being taken of their generosity, because of the unprovoked lies, jealousy and hatred of others. The goodness of others can often make us feel threatened: it can provoke an almost blind fury because it exposes a lack of goodness in our hearts. This irrational response of sinners towards the good is perceptively described in the book of Wisdom—and the passage is clearly prophetic of the One who is pure Goodness: Jesus Christ.

Let us lie in wait for the righteous man, because he is inconvenient to us and opposes our actions. … The very sight of him is a burden to us, because his manner of life is unlike that of others, and his ways are strange. … Let us test him with insult and torture that we may find out how gentle he is, and make trial of his forbearance. Let us condemn him to a shameful death, for, according to what he says, he will be protected. (Wis 2:1220)

None of this was part of God’s plan from the beginning, but is the result of sin in the world.

Behind this there is a more sinister battle of good and evil going back to the very Fall of the angels. It is a war that is being waged throughout the spiritual creation, for the devil seeks to undermine and oppose the work of God in everything. After the Fall of Adam and Eve God revealed that this conflict would be part of human history, saying to the serpent, who represents Satan, “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and her seed~ he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel.” (Gen 3:15)

Into this world wounded by sin comes Jesus Christ our Saviour. If it is inevitable now that good and holy people will suffer, how much more so for Jesus who is Goodness and Holiness in Person. The onslaught of sin against Jesus will be supreme and unique.

After the Resurrection, on the road to Emmaus, Jesus spoke to two of his disciples about his passion:

Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory? And beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them in all the scriptures the things concerning himself. (Luke 24:2627)

The passion and death of Jesus was necessary in human terms because of the inevitable opposition of evil to the supreme Good, God made man. But Jesus’ passion was necessary in divine  terms  too,  because  of God’s  will to  restore  what  was  lost  by sin.  However this restoration cannot be brought about by force, for true love may never use force. It is the world’s kingdoms which use coercion, and Christ’s Kingdom is not of this world (cf. John 18:36). Even at his betrayal in the garden of Gethsemane Christ expressly forbade Peter to use the sword to defend him: “Put your sword into its sheath~ shall I not drink the cup which the Father has given me?” (John 18:11~ cf. Matt 26:5253) It is love alone which will achieve the victory in the cosmic battle.

The Cross hangs over the Crib

The ultimate confrontation between good and evil commenced at the very beginning of Christ’s life, and it was, in a spiritual sense, total warfare. From the birth of Christ, this violent opposition to him was apparent. There was notably the massacre of the holy innocents by Herod (Matt 2:1318) and the prophecy of Simeon to Mary: “Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is spoken against (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also).” (Luke 2:3435) St John clearly perceives the heart of the matter in the prologue to his Gospel: “He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world knew him not. He came to his own home, and his own people received him not.” (John 1:1011)

The murderous intent of those opposed to Jesus often came to the surface during his public ministry, especially when he let his divinity be seen~ for instance when they attempted to throw him down the cliff in Nazareth (Luke 4:29) or when they picked up stones to stone him (John 8:59, 10:31). It came to a climax after Jesus’ greatest miracle, the raising of Lazarus from the dead (John 11:144). Indeed it was this incident which prompted the authorities to begin plotting Jesus’ death in earnest (John 11:4553).

In this sinful world Jesus knew that he would have to do more than suffer: he would have to die. In his own words to the apostles he spoke plainly of his impending death as something that must happen (e.g. Matt 16:21, 17:2223, 20:1719).

The Garden of Gethsemane

A key to the redemption is surely to be found in the garden of Gethsemane. Here we read of Christ telling the disciples, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death.” (Matt 26:38) He had experienced this sorrow at the sins of others throughout his public life: it was this which provoked his lament for his own people: “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, killing the prophets and stoning those who are sent to you! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not!” (Luke 13:34) However in Gethsemane Jesus’ sorrow reached an overwhelming climax.

St Luke gives us the moving account where “his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down upon the ground”, and Christ asks the Father to “remove this chalice from me.”  (Luke 22:4244) The suffering of Christ here is real and terrible. But it  is not  the suffering of a man who finds physical pain frightening or who is struggling to find his courage. It is something quite different and far greater than that. We could venture to say that the depth of Christ’s suffering is not even to be found in the suffering of personal betrayal. Even when thinking in terms of Christ’s human nature, we need to remember that there is no imperfection, nothing  of the wounded pride or  self-pity that  we ourselves so  easily resort  to  on such occasions.6

The sweat of blood has a central significance here. It is by no means just a device invented by St Luke to increase the melodrama of Jesus’ agony. It has in fact been medically recorded occasionally in other people in situations of extreme horror, for instance when a mother saw her child being crushed in front of her by a bus. Thus Jesus’ sweat of blood is not due to anxiety about his impending suffering and death. Rather it is because he experiences the horrifying panorama of sinful humanity across all time.  He sees the totality of our race, individually and socially, and the appalling damage we do to ourselves, to each other, and to God’s plan of love. He sees and experiences our sins, and the wounds and sufferings we endure because of sin. The sheer horror and dread of this experience causes his human nature to react with a sorrow so deep and so painful that we cannot fathom it. In that vision he loves each one of us despite what we are, and he apologises for each of us to the Father. We are his chalice. His drinking of it is our redemption.

The Crucifixion

With Jesus’ crucifixion the onslaught of evil against God reaches its climax. This act is the greatest possible evil, for it is the murdering of God made man. It is the utter rejection of God in his supreme and total giving of himself to us. It is a direct attempt to undo the Incarnation. And  it  is thus a direct  attempt  to  undermine the totality of God’s plan of creation and salvation, for the whole of God’s loving purpose was to unite and fulfil all things in Christ (cf. Eph 1:10). The martyrdom of any good man is an obscenity, especially when it is an act of spite directed at his very goodness. But the evil of the crucifixion of Christ was enormously greater: in the first place because he is true God as well as true man~ but also because the enduring and steadfast loving will of Christ is to save the whole human race, including the very people who crucified him.

However, for this very reason, the cross is also the culmination of Jesus’ work of love for us. For in this fallen world pain is so often the measure of love. On the cross Jesus bore not only the unimaginable horror of human sin throughout history but also the ultimate, total and direct rejection of what he is and who he is—God in Person. Only infinite, divine love can willingly embrace the enormity of this suffering. Only infinite, divine love can do this out of sheer love for those who inflict such suffering!

At the beginning of his account of the Last Supper, which is also the beginning of our Lord’s passion, St John tells us:

Now before the feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart out of this world to the Father, having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. (John 13:1)

The Greek text of the phrase “to the end” has eis telos, an expression which also means “to the uttermost” or “completely”. By his suffering and agony in the garden and by his death on the cross, Christ loves us to the end of his life, and also to the uttermost. Christ himself bears witness to this a little later on at the Last Supper when he says: “Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13) St Paul shows how complete this love of Christ is in his letter to the Romans (5:68): “While we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. Why, one will hardly die for a righteous man—though perhaps for a good man one will dare even to die. But God shows his love for us in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us.”

God’s love is often referred to in the Old Testament as “steadfast and faithful” (e.g. Ex 34:6, Ps 25:10). The limitations of human language prevent us from expressing the complete perfection of God’s love. Christ’s suffering and death alone express the full character of God’s love—and express it in action. This is why Christ can say as he yields up his spirit on the cross, “It is consummated.” (John 19:30)

“Father, forgive them”

The cross is the supreme and unsurpassable act of love in the history of the cosmos. But love is always something freely given. Thus we stand in even greater wonder at Jesus who accepted the whole of his passion and death not grudgingly but generously. We see this both in his teaching to his disciples: “No one takes my life from me, but I lay it down of my own accord,” (John 10:18) and in his prayer in Gethsemane: “Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me~ nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.” (Matt 26:39) Jesus had received from his Father his mission to be our Saviour, to bring us the fullness of life in loving communion with him. His life was always to be one of love to the uttermost. Once sin had entered the world, it was inevitable that this mission would mean suffering and death. The purpose of his work remains unchanged, despite the onslaught of evil, but its scope must be deepened: his healthgiving ministry must now also heal the wounds of sin and division, and his lifegiving work must now include the restoration of life lost by sin. In all of this Jesus remained utterly faithful to his mission of love for the Father and for us.

In this steadfast love is our forgiveness, because Christ loves us with a love which is not taken back in the face of sin, but is rather given all the more generously. This is what forgiveness is. We can tend to think of forgiveness as a negative release from our sins—merely being ‘let off the hook’. But this is an inadequate understanding of the depth of what it means to be forgiven. On its own it is empty because it cannot restore our relationship with God, which is broken by sin. True forgiveness is a loving again and a loving in greater abundance despite our sins.7 It is only God’s free gift of continuing and deeper love which can genuinely restore our friendship with him. Jesus continues to love us despite sin, since he still chooses to come into our fallen world as our Saviour. His love is deeper and in greater abundance since it will now  cost  him unfathomable  suffering  and  even death.  In this world of sin Christ’s unflinching fidelity to his Father and to us will inevitably bring him to the cross, but by its very nature it will also bring us forgiveness.

Thus, as he was being crucified, the Suffering Servant, the true Lamb of God, prayed not for himself but for the whole people: “Father, forgive them~ for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:34) This apology for us comes from the heart of Christ, a heart overflowing with saving and forgiving love, love to the uttermost. It comes from Christ’s unconquerable desire to bring us into the fullness of God’s love, to become cosharers of the divine nature, no matter what it may cost. So Christ’s prayer expresses what his action is bringing about in reality—our forgiveness and redemption.

The Unity of the Work of Christ

The whole of Christ’s saving work is summed up and brought to a climax in the cross. However, it is not simply the death of Christ that redeems us but all of his work on earth. The triumph of Christ over sin is achieved in its fullness in his death and resurrection but it is also being worked out in every parable, miracle and teaching. These works of Christ in the original wisdom of God were intended to bring us the fullness of life. They do so now, but in addition they overcome the evil of sin. The work of Christ on earth, indeed his whole life among us from his conception in the womb of the Virgin Mary at the Annunciation to his Ascension into glory, was a work of total engagement with us. He is the Good Shepherd who consecrated his entire life to tending his sheep and to rescuing them from the darkness of falsehood and sin. There was no  part  of his life that  did  not  involve that  love which is by its very nature redemptive. The work of the cross is indeed the work of his whole life.

Reflecting on this at the deepest level we see the amazing beauty, wisdom and power of God’s plan for his creation, his UnityLaw of Control and Direction. For this law was framed by God from the very beginning of creation to be centred on the Incarnation. Sin was the denial and contradiction of this law, and yet God’s plan did not unravel with sin. Sin cannot defeat the wisdom of God~ rather, in the wisdom of God, sin defeats itself. For when sin tries to bring about the destruction of God’s plan by killing the Christ, Christ deepens even further his gift of salvation to us so that it becomes also the gift of redemption and restoration. God only needs to remain faithful to his original plan, and sin is conquered!

The Sacrifice of Christ

St Augustine defined a sacrifice at the deepest level as every work which is done in order that we may be united in communion with God.8 Man has always sought to come close to God through sacrifices. These have included the offering of animals, the firstfruits of the earth, and even the sharing of food and drink. Throughout history certain people have been set apart and dedicated as priests so that they can offer a more perfect sacrifice on behalf of others. Yet none of these sacrifices was adequate~ even those of the Old Testament priests were imperfect because the priests themselves were sinful. There needed to be a perfect priest who could offer the perfect sacrifice: a sacrifice which would bring about our full communion with God. Only Christ is able to be what mankind needs most of all: the perfect offering and the perfect priest.

As we have seen, the whole of Christ’s life and death win our redemption because they are the ultimate act of love: love which is utterly resolute in the face of total rejection by the sinners he loves. But we have also seen that love must be offered freely, indeed the essence of love is to be the free selfgift of the lover to the beloved. Therefore Christ’s life and death are precisely the perfect sacrifice we needed. He is the perfect offering, namely the free gift of himself in total love. He is the perfect priest, for the offering is his own: he lays down his life of his own accord (cf. John 10:18). And through this offering he brings us back into loving communion with God.

Because Christ’s sacrifice is an offering of love, an offering of himself, Jesus’ sacrifice is not merely something he does, it is rather part of who he is, an aspect of his Person. And therefore his sacrifice is not just an ordinary event which passes away into history as other events do. For Jesus’ love has not come to an end, it was not over and done with on the cross. Rather Jesus is risen from the dead, alive and active throughout history. And thus his sacrifice is also a living reality for all time, as the author of the letter to the Hebrews shows us: “Jesus is able for all time to save those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them.” (Heb 7:25). This means that Jesus’ sacrifice is a reality which is available to us and effective for us here and now. We have real access to Christ’s saving and redeeming work. It makes a real difference in our daily lives. It forgives and heals our sins and brings us into personal communion with God. This is the meaning of all the sacraments, but especially of the Eucharist which is truly Christ’s sacrifice of the cross and also our true Holy Communion with God—for the Eucharist is Jesus Christ in Person.9

Resurrection and Glory

Through his Resurrection Christ’s sacrifice on the cross now has an impact on every age, on every person, until the end of time. It has a truly cosmic significance. The Resurrection is more than just the return of a good friend to the apostles who were missing him so much. It is the vindication of who Christ claimed to be: truly the Son of God and Saviour of the world. It is a proof that the perfect love of Christ overcomes all the fury and pain that sin throws at him. Moreover it shows that his love is even more powerful and enduring than death, the ultimate weapon used by evil against the good. Death no longer has any power over him (Rom 6:9)~ instead now he is the Lord of both the living and the dead (Rom 14:9). No element of creation is now beyond his reconciling power, unless it personally chooses to reject him. Christ, who was the Word in the beginning, is now also the last Word~ and so the whole of creation is restored to what God had planned and worked for from the beginning through his UnityLaw. This is what St Paul calls God’s “purpose which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.” (Eph 1:910)

In the Resurrection Christ’s humanity is transfigured with his divinity. He is glorified with a glory which God had planned for humanity from the beginning. It is important to note, however, that Christ is raised still bearing the wounds of his sacrifice. As we saw earlier, this sacrifice is now part and parcel of who he is forever. Our damaged humanity needs to be personally joined to the risen humanity of Christ if it is to be healed and filled with divine life. His humanity is the model of what we are called to be~ it is also the instrument of that transformation. This is why the sacraments of the Church are so important: they are the gateways by which people from every age and place have personal access to Christ. They have an impact on us that is both physical and spiritual. Thus the Eucharist, the actual body and blood of Christ, is called ‘the pledge of eternal life’: it joins us to that glorified humanity of Christ which is in itself a medicine for our wounded humanity. It is a pledge that what has happened to Christ will happen to us too, because we are now joined physically and spiritually to the risen Lord. He will raise us again, body and soul, at the end of time and glorify us with his risen life.

Christ’s Ascension, following the Resurrection, is the next step of God’s plan. As a result Jesus is no longer restricted to any single geographical location. Indeed, through the gift of the Holy Spirit, the Church is now the continuation of his living presence in all times and places. It is his body, the sign and instrument of his presence until the end of the world, when Christ will come again to gather up the universe which he has redeemed and unite it to God in a bond of everlasting love. Christians from the earliest times have longed for this final return, praying “Come, Lord Jesus!” (Rev 22:20). For that final coming is the completion of the great work of God that Christ was always destined to achieve in his Incarnation. Even after the disaster of sin it remains one beautiful and all wise plan: the creation of a universe that would develop under God’s UnityLaw, finding its fulfilment  in Christ  our Saviour, restored by Christ our Redeemer from its slavery to sin, and finally united to God, sharing the perfection of his life in love, joy and praise forever.

1 English utilitarian philosophers: Jeremy Bentham 17481832, John Stuart Mill 18061873.

2 See the third pamphlet in this series: The Disaster of Sin.

3 See the fifth pamphlet in this series: Jesus Christ our Saviour.

4 See the first pamphlet in this series: Can we be sure God exists?, also the fifth pamphlet: Jesus Christ our Saviour.

5 This idea is reflected in the rite of Mass when the priest mixes water with the wine, saying “By the mystery of this water and wine may we come to share in the divinity of Christ, who humbled himself to share in our humanity.”

6   Although  Christ  identified  with  fallen  men, in  himself he was not damaged by original  sin. Thus the temptations he experienced were those which came directly from the sinful will of others, most particularly the devil. It is a woeful misunderstanding to present them as though Christ were tempted “just like us” by the kind of weakness and compulsion that comes to us from habits of sin. See T. Finigan, “The Temptations of Christ”, Faith, Vol. 25, no. 2, Mar/Apr 1993.

7 Cf. E. Holloway, Catholicism: A New Synthesis, FaithKeyway, second edition, 1976, p. 322.

8 St Augustine, De Civitate Dei, 10, 5, 6.

9 See the seventh pamphlet in this series: The Church: Christ with us Always.

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