My friend Speaker of Truth slipped out of town on Sunday so I’m going to take advantage of his absence to make a few wild claims about the atonement. As you’ve probably figured out by now, I am not a theologian. But willful ignorance of systematic theology can actually be helpful in thinking about the cross. Systematic theology can limit our perspective. What I’m looking for is “global perspectives on Christian thinking” thus the tag line for this blog.
Two very unsystematic perspectives on the Cross caught my eye this weekend in my reading. The first was the Saxon poem The Dream of the Rood which was put in writing probably in the eighth century. Comments by Peter and Bob on my Cyber-Psalm 1.1 about the Father and Son being agents in putting Jesus on the cross rather than the Father doing something to the Son reminded me of The Dream of the Rood.
Here’s a part of that poem:
“Then the young Warrior, God, the All-Wielder,
Put off his raiment, steadfast and strong;
With lordly mood in the sight of many
He mounted the Cross to redeem mankind.”From The Dream of the Rood, translated by Charles W. Kennedy
As you can see this is definitely an image of Christ as agent in his own crucifixion. The introduction to the poem, in the Norton Anthology to World Masterpieces, Vol. 1 (p.733) says, “Here the Son of God might almost be a Germanic king setting forth on horseback to destroy a monster and save his people.”
The poem suggested a wholly different image for me. One of the oldest and most powerful stories of Norse mythology is that of Odin and the tree Yggdrasil. According to Cliff Notes on Mythology (don’t laugh, it’s an invaluable book):
“The gods were subject to aging, and they rejuvenated themselves by eating magic apples kept by the goddess Idun. However, Odin chose a different, harder way. He freely wounded himself with his own spear and hung himself for nine days from the cosmic tree Yggdrasil, which was shaken by winds. In this manner he renewed his youth, but he also became the master of the magic runes, inscriptions that could accomplish any mortal purpose, whether beneficial or baneful.”
Source: Cliff Notes on Mythology, p. 156
So, The Dream of the Rood could be an echo of that myth. An opposite thing happens in the poem Beowulf in which a Norse warrior’s conquests are reinterpreted as an allegory of Christ’s redemption. Discussion of that will have to wait for another time.
How integral to the Western conception of Christ’s atonement are the Norse myths? Did Christ as proactive conqueror on the Cross take root in European theology because it harmonized with autochthonic1 beliefs?
I say that partly because of the other book I was reading this weekend: An African Prayer Book (Doubleday), edited by Desmond Tutu. The archbishop has given us a wise and eclectic selection of African prayers. Most of them are Christian, but not all. But let me cut right to the point. The Cross is never mentioned. There is not a single reference to Christ on the cross or the atonement. This could simply be a reflection on the tastes or theology of the editor. There are certainly prayers aplenty about reconciliation, hardship and privation. But no cross. And what does that lead us to expect about an African Christian theology?
Should the predominant symbol of Christ’s work on earth be a cross? Or should it be the family? Christ as our ancestor who continues to aid us beyond the gates of death is an idea that harmonizes seamlessly with the African conception of ancestry. Our ancestors, though dead, continue to watch us and help us. And harm us if we ignore them. Christ, who conquered death and was raised from the dead is preeminent over all Adam’s seed who are subject to death.
Just as a proper understanding of the Cross is an improvement over the warped mythology of Odin and Yggdrasil, so also Christ as our brother in heaven is an improvement over the desperate beliefs surrounding ancestor-veneration. Does Africa need to find the missing cross, or is the theology of reconciliation between God and man sufficient?
autochthonic – very old, referring to the original inhabitants of a region. (Sorry about the big word.)
I have no doubt that African Christians have and will appropriate atonement theology for their own purposes.
Here is an example, though I don’t know how exactly atonement was developed in the course of exposition.
A few years back, on the outskirts of Dakar, a locally-trained United Methodist preacher (new church plants began by UMC missionaries from the Congo are growing fast) preached the gospel taking as his point of departure the sacrifice of Isaac. This caused a stir because, as you may know, for Muslims, it’s the sacrifice of Ishmael.
Some hot-headed Muslim youth decided to take matters into their own hands and tried to disrupt the service. Rather than call the police, who would have intervened on their behalf, the Christians decided to take it in the chin (literally; stones were thrown at them).
Afterwards, the missionary from the Congo tailed the Muslim youth who acted as ringleader in the occurrence. He befriended him.
That Muslim youth converted and now heads up the youth wing of the Methodist movement in Senegal.
Now that’s atonement.
Well, I’m back in town now, after three quiet days by the sea, with friends, but fasting from blogging. By last night the withdrawal symptoms were making me feel quite ill. It must have been the prospect of getting back to reading Lingamish that made me feel much better this morning and ready for the three hour drive home.
Interesting on Norse mythology. But could the story of Odin on the tree in itself be an echo of Christian teaching? I don’t suppose it is extant until well into the Christian era.
As for Tutu’s prayer book, I expect it avoids mention of the cross because it is intended for an inter-faith audience, and as such it is probably following a Western (or Northern) model of inter-faith dialogue rather than being specifically African.
Maybe the cross doesn’t have to be “the predominant symbol of Christ’s work on earth”. But I would be very worried about a theology in which it is not mentioned at all. I can see the power of the idea that Christ is our “ancestor”, taking the place of our human ancestors in African thinking, but that would have to be presented carefully to avoid allowing pagan ideas to have too much of a place.
I would love to discuss global perspectives on the atonement, but I don’t have much to add. Of course narratives of the atonement, like John’s one, are likely to hit nearer to the mark in Africa – and probably also among non-academic westerners.
I envy you the beach and the friends. Glad you’re back.