Part 1 in a series exploring the Westminster Catechism question, “What is the chief end of man?” Click here for Part 2. Click here for Part 3.
As a kid, I never wrestled with existential questions like “Why am I here?” or “What’s my purpose?”
I thought I knew. The Westminster Shorter Catechism says that our “chief end,” or ultimate purpose, “is to glorify God and enjoy him forever.” Well, there you go, boxed up in black and white.
Is it true: did God create us “for his own glory”1? and how is enjoying him part of that? When I started thinking about this last month, I had to pull on the thread a lot longer than I expected. I’ll get back to this question, but first, let’s talk Penal Substitutionary Atonement.
Leaving a circle that prides itself on its doctrinal depth and scope, I am always surprised and chagrined when I discover the gaping holes in that circle’s teaching (and still divesting myself of my own pride around presumed doctrinal depth and scope. Which also leaves me surprised and chagrined). I left Reformed Baptism proper and found entire swaths of church historical perspectives that are entirely new to me—like atonement theories.
Did you know there’s more than one atonement theory??
The reformed churches I joined required that I ‘state the gospel in my own words’ and also my experience of that gospel. What they actually meant was not the gospel, but Penal Substitutionary Atonement. It was also the only kind of atonement that ever got preached.
What is Penal Substitutionary Atonement? PSA is based on the tension between God’s justice and mercy. The wages of sin is death; in the great equation of the universe, all wrong must be paid for. But God is also merciful, and in his desire to save his creatures, made a way to be “both just and the justifier”: Christ on the cross took the punishment for sin, that sinners might get the reward for righteousness (double imputation; a different subject). His death atoned, or paid, or made up, for the sin of the believer.
When we take PSA as the exclusive perspective on redemption history, these are the inherent conclusions we come to:
You are so bad.
God is so angry.
God is so good to save us, by finding someone else to be angry at.
Jesus was so good to take that anger, because he never deserved it.
We have to be grateful no matter what:
Grateful, because we didn’t go to hell
Grateful, no matter what, because we made God so angry at Jesus, which was unfair and all our fault
And the Spirit is around, somewhere.
So I learned, through the weekly gospel presentation that concluded every Sunday’s morning and evening sermon, that God’s primary attribute was fury. When he looks at me, I thought, he is angry; angry beyond my comprehension of anger; angry beyond a red face screaming into mine; angry to the point of satisfaction with my eternal torment.
What stops this anger? Seeing Christ.
When I am covered in Christ’s blood and righteousness, he is satisfied; when he sees the Christ-mask over my face, he agrees to pretend he sees Jesus, and he’ll let me in. Grudging, is how it felt. He was never satisfied because it’s me, because I’m precious to him. How could a bad, bad sinner be delightful? He didn’t love me because of my worth—I was unworthy of anything but hell. He loved me because he and Jesus (and the Spirit, somewhere) had decided to make a magnificent, unfair arrangement, and gain me as a worthless reward by random, predestination chance.
I internalized that since God was only happy with me when he looked at me but saw Jesus, there was nothing about me to be lovable, to be valued—to be anything other than a means (either a submissive means, or a rebellious example broken) for his adulation. My sin became the point of the story, and the only acceptable identity was Christ: not ‘being infused by his attributes’ (being me and growing in patience), but more like the popsicle stick that held his 2D printed face.
I’m not trying to be irreverent; I truly felt like a prop. I was a popsicle stick. Jesus was the only part of me that God really wanted.
My issue here isn’t about believing that Christ atoned for sins. I do believe that “Christ died for sins,” 1 Peter 3.18. This is bigger than that: this is about excluding all the other biblical descriptions of atonement, and creating an unbalanced, one-dimensional perspective on God’s character, Christ’s work, and the Spirit’s role in my life. This representation of salvation, faith, God’s inherent character and motivation completely ignores other verses about redemption, about sacrifice, about victory, about the God of the universe singing over the ones he loves.
Where is the comfort in penal substitution, where God’s anger demands death? There is certainly fear. There may be relief (due only to the P in TULIP. PSA kind of requires you be a 5-point Calvinist). Is there safety and stability? Is there an answer for people who have been sinned against? Can you preach penal substitution to a rape victim?
These holes seem to be where RB doctrine reaches the end of itself: uncomfortable nuance make black and white interpretations untenable, and something’s got to give. I learned to give up God’s love and the Spirit’s movement for the tidy box of God’s anger and Christ’s substitution. There is no enjoyment there.
So I came to see “God’s glory” as something paradoxical to “enjoyment,” because how does one enjoy praising a being who can’t stand you? Relearning who God is, and where his glory is found, and other ways to understand his redemption, has thoroughly changed my perspective on enjoying him. I still believe we bring God glory, and I still believe we can enjoy that process. But I now believe that enjoyment of God is what brings him glory.
Part 1: God is anger • Part 2: Worm theology • Part 3: Love and rest (coming soon)
The Grand Rapids Children’s Prove It! catechism, question 3. No mention of enjoyment at all, here!