The Cross and Demythologizing

On the surface, Bultmann’s proposal to “demythologize” the New Testament proclamation aims so to express the Word of the Bible that it will be understood and accepted in the present-day situation. The language of the New Testament, its expressions, its forms of thought, and its pictures are to be transformed into our way of thinking and language.

If this “demythologizmg” were restricted only to clarifying the pictures and parables of the New Testament, the Bible-reading church would really be very thankful for any new and a better understanding imparted through such exegesis.

But, to our sorrow, Bultmann understands by “demythologizing” far more than just an unraveling of the Words of the Bible. For his concern is not only with form but also with content. Accordingly, not only the entire form of the New Testament, but its content also is first rejected as mythological and only then interpreted. This includes everything from the Virgin Birth to the Second Coming of Christ. It is a terrible tragedy, an enormous sorrow, that not only atheists or critics standing outside the church of Jesus Christ now ridicule the substance of the New Testament, but that such views are taught by a professor of theology.

Among other things, Bultmann proposes to reject the Cross in its meaning of substitution and sacrifice. He thinks that, according to ethical principles, an atonement for a moral guilt can be made only by the guilty himself, or that guilt can be cancelled in an act of forgiveness by the one against whom the wrong has been committed. Substitutionary atonement by someone else other than the guilty himself is a reparation or atonement in a legal sense of simple payment for damages only, and never a reparation or atonement in an ethical sense. If Christ’s death on the Cross is understood as the substitutionary satisfaction, then, it is not an acceptable expression of the guilt-removing forgiveness of God.

Bultmann thinks also that when one explains Christ’s death on the Cross with the help of the cubic idea of sacrifice, according to the modern understanding of it, he forsakes the ground of an ethically definite notion of God. The sacrifice, then, is understood as a substitutionary payment for gratification of an angry, bloody God, who demands a sacrifice and, if not appeased by it, would totally destroy the human race. According to Bultmann, such a nonbiblical understanding would reduce God to the heathen rank; it would “demonize” God. Bultmann supposes that such a notion of sacrifice characterized the primitive and heathen notions of human and blood sacrifices (cf. Bultmann’s remarks concerning notions of sacrifice in his reply to Schniewind in Kerygma and Myth, pp. 108 f.).

Bultmann thinks further that, were it permissible to accept the substitutionary suffering of one who is sinless, then, on the psychological grounds, this acceptance would itself break down, because, as the Son of God, the sufferer did not experience a true suffering of death. As result of the certainty of immediate resurrection, Bultmann contends, there may have been a pain of death, but not a danger of death. This supposition Bultmann expresses in the following words: “Moreover, if the Christ who died such a death was the preexistent Son of God, what could death mean for him? Obviously very little, if he knew that he would rise again in three days!” (Kerygma and Myth, p. 8).

What must we say to this?

The One Door To The Throne

By such thought processes we are treading upon the holiest ground of that which adoption and redemption mean. Therefore, it is our duty to approach these sacred events and the deeds of God with the deepest awe and submission of heart. In ever new expressions, similes, and analogies from the earthly life, the writers of the New Testament, filled with adoration, clarify again and again the great act of adoption on Golgotha that embraces both heaven and earth, time and eternity. This is especially seen in Paul, who speaks about “Redemption,” “Forgiveness,” “Adoption,” “Justification,” “Acceptance as sons,” “Payment of debt,” “Taking upon Himself a punishment,” “Sacrifice,’ “Shedding of blood,” and so on. For the Apostle all these expressions designate one and the same great deed of God, namely, “Salvation in Christ.”

Paul goes back into the life of Law, which was near to him as to a former Rabbi, and from that life brings the illustrative material for describing a unique act of God in Christ on Golgotha, in order to make intelligible to his readers the great, once-for-all sacrifice of God and God’s shedding of blood! Again and again Paul is concerned with comprehensibility.

Paul sees man before God as accused, as an enemy, as a slave of sin. Only in Christ does the accused receive acquittal or justification, does the enemy receive sonship, the guilty—forgiveness, the slave—a ransom, redemption or adoption. To the throne of the Kingdom of Grace there leads but one open door: Jesus Christ, the Crucified. The Cross-event became a burning heart-throb of Paul’s preaching, the burning thorn-hush that never is extinguished.

Primitive Or Profound?

What does Bultmann say about the substitutionary uniqueness of the Cross-event? This is what he writes: “What primitive notions of guilt and righteousness does this imply? And what primitive idea of God?” (ibid., p. 7). Concerning the Cross as Sacrifice he says: “What a primitive mythology it is, that a divine being should become incarnate, and atone for the sins of men through his own blood!”

Let us examine some of Bultmann’s expressions. First this: “What primitive idea of God!” And this is understood in connection with the “substitutionary satisfaction through the death of Christ”! What a harsh and bitterly damaging statement! Before the soul of Paul stood a previously unheard, tension-filled question: “How are holiness and mercy reconciled in God?” This rich, deeper idea of God was voiced by Paul. How, then, can one speak about a primitive idea of God?

God is holy, therefore he hates, condemns, and punishes sins, and possibly cannot allow sinners to fellowship with him. Yet, God forgives, therefore, he permits a rebel, who insolently exalts himself against God, a criminal with all his malice and guilt of sin, to enter into fellowship with him.

The Tree

Lost, longed for tree of life,

with Eden lost,

by cherubim safeguarded,

by flaming sword crossed,

lest man the also lost, condemned

awhile to breath,

reach forth to grasp its fruit and live

in endless death.

Found now at Golgotha

dwarfing the hill

the horrifying hate-carved tree

where God hung still.

Yet beautiful this tree of life

grows to me,

this blood, this cross where I too die

and taste eternity.

Looked for in paradise

come again—

an end to death through death, an end

to pain;

an end to night, man’s light the Lamb,

an end to strife;

an end to thirst, the right to grasp

God’s tree of life.

ELLIOTT KNIGHT

God is the unapproachable holiness which must reject a sinner from itself, and, again, God is the forgiving mercy which sits at the table with a sinner. How are these two possible at the same time? How can both “Holiness” and “Mercy” be understood? This is the problem.

Modernism answers the question in a simplified manner, since it proposes to understand forgiveness of God simply as an activity that exercises clemency, as a “because of love all is covered” activity. “To pardon is the handiwork of God.” This unbiblical view of forgiveness would destroy the meaning of the word. The love that has its origin in God is not softness, but the strongest protest against sin. Certainly, God permits the sun to shine upon the wicked and the good, permits it to rain upon just and unjust, and sustains the sinners with unending patience, long-suffering, and kindness—yet his patience and mercy is never to be equated with a limitless clemency. Again and again the Bible stresses: “The one who commits sin shall surely die.” Should, then, God forgive without punishment?

God, because he is God, cannot stand in opposition to sins of man “reactionless,” since sin is not a mere mistake, or a weakness, an indolence or sickness, as the liberal view asserts in connection with the all-excusing love of God, but sin is self-separation, insolence, revolt and rebellion against God, a legal breach of relationship between God and man, self-seeking and self-love; it is a denial of God without limit, and an assertion of the human “I” to a hardly conceivable and hardly possible extent. It is the honor of God that is attacked through sin. God cannot permit his honor be attacked. His God-essence, the reality of all righteousness and moral order, shortly, the law itself (understood in its deepest sense) demands the divine reaction against sin, the divine opposition to his rebellion. God does not permit himself to be mocked.

If this is not true, there would be no honesty in the world; there would be no sense in life at all, no order, no certainty; all would sink into chaos. God would completely dissolve and deny himself as God if he would not prove himself as a “real and terrible wrath” against the sinning man. God cannot and will not favor sin. Therefore his wrath burns against everyone who opposes him. The wrath of God is not an illusion, but a reality. The easygoing world “does not permit itself to be persuaded concerning such a wrath.… The world thinks about it as if God is a mere yawning mouth, as if his mouth only opens wide … and does not bite” (Luther).

The law of God, the moral order of the world, demands that the sin, injustice, and crime be punished. Forgiveness that does not involve punishment means destruction of the world order, of the laws of the universe, and, therefore, it is the most monstrous thing that one can imagine. Such forgiveness would declare the ordinances and commandments of God invalid; it would be also a self-destruction of God’s own Person. A lawgiver who declared his own laws invalid is no more a lawgiver. Thus forgiveness as the invalidation of divine commandments would be the most unthinkable, the most impossible concept that can be presented.

Grace In Justice

Our question was: How God’s holiness and God’s holy wrath, that removes a sinner from itself, unites with God’s love, which has fellowship with a sinner?

We say once more: God’s righteousness is the inexorable no to each violation of the law. But God’s righteousness, at the same time, is also his just, and justifying, and rectifying act for the salvation of the world. In a special way this is the theme of the Book of Romans. The Judge gave himself for that purpose of salvation through sacrifice and substitution. See Isaiah 53:4, 5; 2 Corinthians 5:19; Romans 8:33, 34.

With great clarity God appears as a subject of the work of adoption. He is not adopted, but accomplishes adoption. God gave himself for that purpose in his Son (Rom. 8:32). God gives himself in his Son, and the Son accomplishes the purpose of God.

In the Old Testament God’s righteousness was veiled. Forgiveness in the Old Testament was temporal; the one that forgave exercised patience in view of the New Testament. But in the New Testament God’s long-suffering of sin broke, and he did not delay his judgment any more but fulfilled it once for all—upon himself—in Christ—on our behalf (James 2:13).

It occurred in the judgment of the Cross, where God gave himself in Christ, not in the usual usage of phrase “grace before justice,” but in the following expression: “God’s grace came into being in justice.” God’s grace came into being in fulfillment of justice, because it is not a covering of sins, but a pitiless uncovering of sins through Christ’s death.

The expression “God’s grace forgave us” in the sense of a general amnesty is, therefore, a misunderstanding. The correct expression is: “God’s just, and rectifying, and justifying righteousness forgave.”

God’s grace is not a mild indulgence or kindness. It is not a hidden or secret grace that operates behind the back of righteousness. No, it appeared in the clear daylight of God’s righteousness and was accomplished by the Supreme Judge himself, since the Judge himself gave himself to the just punishment for us in Christ. And since this is so tremendous, so uncomprehensible, so indescribable, so overwhelming, surpassing all thoughts, so that the angels themselves desired to look into this mystery, Paul voices a triumphant cry: “If God be for us, who can be against us?” (Rom. 8:31–33).

Now, does such praise and such triumphant song about God taking our place in Christ express a “primitive idea of God,” as Bultmann supposes? We say, “No.” We say: Here is truly Almighty, a really great God, who offered himself, his very Self, for us in Christ! Such is not an everyday occurrence in the universe! God gave himself for us on behalf of God. He accomplished the unparalleled service of God (see Heb. 9:24–26).

The concept of substitutionary atonement is presented, then, by the picture of a great and mighty sacrifice. Through the entire Bible, as a purple thread, there runs a great Word: “Without blood, without sacrifice there is no salvation.” By slaying millions of victims the law and the prophets pointed to the Great Victim who reconciles us with God through his blood. The apostles and the martyrs had only one basis for their hope, namely, that they were bought by God through the blood of the Lamb. Without blood there is no preservation in and no victory over all darkness, no approach into the holiness of God, no royal priesthood, no throne, and no crown.

The entire Letter to the Hebrews is filled with this great content: Jesus Christ, a unique and once-for-all sacrifice for us. The Gospels are full of that. Paul and Peter are covered with that. The Revelation presents Jesus as the Lamb, the sacrifice for us (Rev. 5:12).

And think, the content of praises and adoration of the future worlds and aions, for Bultmann, is only “primitive mythology.” Can it be so? No, never. It is simply impossible to erase out of the Bible the great number (close to a thousand) of very meaningful words that are so important to the meaning of the saving act of Christ as sacrifice, as substitution, as atonement, as adoption, as ransom, and that present those ideas so weightily and so convincingly to the reader of Scripture.

What is, then, the meaning of the Cross for Bultmann? According to Bultmann, the Cross of Christ in its meaning is a saving event. Thus for him the Cross is not a saving event really but means a saving event. Bultmann says: “To believe in the cross of Christ does not mean to concern ourselves with a mythical process wrought outside of us and our world, with an objective event turned by God to our advantage, but rather to make the cross of Christ our own, to undergo crucifixion with him. The cross in its redemptive aspect is not an isolated incident which befell a mythical personage, but an event whose meaning has ‘cosmic’ importance” (ibid., pp. 36–37).

What do we say to this expression of the meaning of the Cross in the sense of “to believe in the cross … to undergo crucifixion with him”? This sounds very biblical. But against the background of Bultmann’s lectures and his book Neues Testament und Mythologie, this statement contains the old liberal theology in a new form. Then all expressions, like “to believe in the cross of Christ” is “to undergo crucifixion with him,” expressed also elsewhere as “surrender oneself in a total renunciation of all self-contrived security in a conscious acceptance of the word about forgiveness and thus to be free for an authentic new life”—all this means actually self-salvation.

They Brake Not His Legs

Inaccurate understanding of the mechanism of crucifixion has often led scholars to question the trustworthiness of this aspect of the Johannine account. For example, J. Spencer Kennard, writing in the Journal of Biblical Literature (Vol. LXXIV, p. 227 ff.), states that “the breaking of the legs threw the entire weight upon the arms and thereby intensified the agony that hastened death” (italics supplied). A little later he states: “But we may be certain that since quick death was intended from the very start, Jesus’ legs were broken like those of his companions. Presumably the breaking took place early in the proceedings.”

But the mechanism of crucifixion, as physicians will affirm, is such that the weight of the body fixes the rib cage; and respiration can take place only in diaphragmatic action. After a prolonged period of suspension, however, fatigue of the diaphragm will occur; and, finally, complete paralysis of this muscle will supervene. The fastening of the legs enables the victim to relieve this respiratory failure by providing a point of leverage to raise the body and thus alleviate the paralysing tension on the thorax set up by the body weight hanging on the arms. No matter how agonizing the process, the victim may continue to surge and plunge in this way for amazingly long periods of time.

When the legs are broken, however, the point of leverage is removed and the victim dies because of respiratory failure. The breaking of the legs is not to be understood, therefore, merely as an act of torture but rather as an act of mercy or expediency directed to the accelerated dispatch of the victim. The imposition of the crurifragium (leg-breaking) took place at the end of the process of execution in order to hasten death (cf. John 19:31). If Jesus was already dead; then there was no need for his legs to be broken (cf. John 19:33). One of the executors, however, might have desired—quite understandably—to make sure that Jesus had not simply lapsed into a coma and consequently “pierced his side with a spear” (cf. John 19:34). Thus, it seems fair to conclude that the sequence of events pertaining to the crucifixion, as presented in this Gospel, are quite in agreement with the conclusions derived from an examination of the mechanism of crucifixion.—The Rev. GERALD LEO BORCHERT, B.A., LL.B., B.D., Th.M., Research Assistant, Princeton Theological Seminary.

Have something to add about this? See something we missed? Share your feedback here.