Currently, the classical doctrine of God is being challenged by one wing of the broad evangelical theological constituency. A major contribution from John Sanders, one of its representatives, has now appeared under the title The God Who Risks: A Theology of Providence. If Sanders is right, the first chapter of the Gospel According to Luke (vv. 2638) should be read as follows:
In the sixth month, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin's name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, "Greetings, you who are highly favoured! The Lord is with you." Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God. You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name of Jesus." [Thinks: "That's the way I'll put it to encourage her. Actually, if she does not cooperate, she will not be with child and her high favor will turn into crushing personal failure. Still, if she does cooperate, it is surely most unlikely after this announcement that she will give him any other name except the name of Jesus.] He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High [though there is no guaranteeing what he will do, and I suppose he could veer way off course]. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob for ever; his kingdom will never end [at least that is the scenario we have every reason to expect, since God is incredibly resourceful at bringing these things about. Nor will you tax his resourcefulness too much, Mary, if you won't bear the child. Of course, if you refuse, we'll have to find someone else who will have some reason for going to Bethlehem for Jesus to be born, because that fits best with the prophecy of Micah. Alternatively, we could leave Bethlehem out of it and find some other way to make Micah's words prophetically meaningful. Still—it can be done]."
"How will this be," Mary asked the angel, "since I am a virgin?"
The angel answered, "[Well, strictly I can tell you only how it would be, if you were to consent, but not precisely how it will be, since that depends on you]. The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one that will [in such an event] be born will be called the Son of God. [As it turns out] Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be barren is in her sixth month. [Now the ideal role of that is that he should become the Baptist, the prophetic forerunner to his cousin, Jesus, and God is very much hoping that you will not disappoint him and force a change of plans]. Nothing is impossible with God."
"I am the Lord's servant," Mary answered. "May it be to me as you have said." Then the angel left her [relieved].
If any think that this is a caricature, let them read the whole volume by Sanders, including the treatment of Mary (pp. 9294). And if any think it exceptional and unrepresentative of the author's theology, let them reread it and dwell instead on the treatment of Judas, Gethsemane, and Cross (pp. 98106). The Cross was a contingent event—it might not have happened and is not definitely predicted in the Old Testament. The options for Jesus and God, as regards executing the project of salvation, narrow as Jesus' ministry progresses until in Gethsemane, "Father and Son, in seeking to accomplish the project, both come to understand that there is no other way." But before then, if not right then, the options were not foreclosed. In that case, Jesus' predictions of his death were a fallible, though justifiable, prognosis; he strongly suspected his imminent death when he was in the upper room and presumed that a new covenant would be instituted through his blood. But the divine establishment of a sacrificial system in the Old Testament did not guarantee it, and at the time of its institution, God could not have been justifiably as confident that the death was prefigured as the writer of Hebrews apparently was.





