Isaiah 1:11-17 - Sacrifices, No; Compassion, Yes! "Ransom Theory of Atonement"

“What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices?” says the Lord; “I have had enough of burnt offering of rams and the fat of fed beasts; I do not delight in the blood of bulls, or of lambs or of goats. When you come to appear before me, who asked this from your hand? Trample my courts no more; bringing offerings is futile; incense is an abomination to me, New moon and sabbath and calling of convocation—I cannot endure solemn assemblies with iniquity. Your new moons and your appointed festivals my soul hates; they have become a burden to me, I am weary of bearing them. When you stretch out your hands, I will hide my eyes from you; even though you make many prayers, I will not listen; your hands are full of blood. Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your doings from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.”

We are beginning a new series on the various Atonement Theories posited by theologians and scholars throughout the ages. Our first Atonement Theory is called the Ransom Theory, which centers on the death of Jesus as a ransom payment for the sins of man. The ransom paid by Jesus settles the debt we owe God for entering into a life of sin at the time of Adam and Eve.

Throughout the books of Leviticus and Deuteronomy, the two books that outline the law as given to Moses, we see countless passages regarding the sacrifice of animals for every occasion imaginable.

Animal sacrifice was a popular custom in the ancient world. It was used primarily to engage in more ritualistic conversations with the gods. Early on in the theology of the Hebrew people, sin against God was particularly egregious and needed to be dealt with through some form of appeasement; a way to keep God from being wrathful toward the people. According to Levitical Law, sacrifices of animals were to be made to atone for the sins of the people. Sin sacrifices were made daily by the priests to mitigate the sins of the community. There was also the Day of Atonement, a special day set aside for the sins of individuals, where folks would make a sacrifice on behalf of their own sins following a full day of repentance to those they had harmed throughout the previous year.

What we see in scripture, though, is a transformation in the understanding of God and how God interacts with the people and what expects from the people. By the time we get to the Prophet Isaiah, we are seeing a different side of God than what was reported in the early life of the people of Israel. This transformation is key to our understanding of God over time.

When God appears to the first humans in the book of Genesis, we see an interactive God who walks among them, who can see their nakedness, who talks directly to the people about his disappointment in them. Later God becomes more distant. By the time God leads the people out of Egypt, God cannot walk among them or have face to face conversations with Moses, he must hide himself in a mist so that Moses does not die. Later we find God becoming even more distant, so distant that David cries out to the mystery that is God because God feels so far away in times of trouble.

Through these various transitions of how the people see or experience God, God also changes his position on how he wants the people to behave. When Isaiah announces at the beginning of his prophecy to the people that God no longer wants their sacrifices, their hands covered in blood, this is a whole new way God is revealing himself to the people. He tells them in this passage that what he really wants is for them to change their lives, to reorient their lives toward being compassionate people who care about the “other” - cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.

God’s idea of how they should live changes what God requires of them as a people. But does it mean that they are no longer responsible for sin? Is God saying to the people in this passage that they no longer owe a debt? Or is God changing the cost of their freedom?

To fully comprehend God’s intention, we’d have to crawl into God’s mind and know what he was thinking at this particular moment in history. It is impossible to know the role that sin played in God’s decision to say, “stop sacrificing animals, stop killing in my name.” It is, though, a rather bold statement because it changes the central focus of their worship entirely.

So, how does this affect our understanding of what happened to Jesus on the cross? We have to ask ourselves, “If God doesn’t want sacrifices from the people, why would he demand a sacrifice on behalf of the people?” How are these two things different? What kind of debt does God feel God is owed?

Ransom theory places the debt God is owed at the center of its framework. It posits that sin, something passed down from generation to generation, must be atoned for; but, instead of sacrificing more animals, God will accept this one and final sacrifice, that of his son, to pay the debt.

I suppose if the conversation begins with sin (all the things that we do that violate our relationship with God) then it is easy to see how someone must pay the price for that violation. Sadly, though, this makes me see God in the same way I would see a mobster. The kind of debt owed to God, and the price that is paid (Jesus’ death) seems a rather high price for someone else to pay for my mistakes. Not only to pay for my mistakes, but to pay a price for being human.

This is the part of the equation that is difficult for me to reconcile. God didn’t make humans perfect, as in, without flaw. This is where we struggle the most with the creation story, and it is the foundation upon which we need to build a different kind of understanding of God. Why would God punish his creation for sin, which is actually a product of the free-will we were given from the beginning of time. Our ability to make choices is the hallmark of being human.

As we wrestle each week with these Theories of Atonement, let us remember that we are first, and foremost, created in the image and likeness of God, and that our understanding of God and creation is limited to our own lived experience and the experiences of others. The evolution of our understanding of the divine tells us there is a better way to engage in the world and with our creator than death; it is called compassion—to feel with the other. The only debt we owe to our creator is to live like it matters.

Mark 16:1-8 The Women at the Tomb

16 When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him. 2 And early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. 3 They had been saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” 4 When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was large, had already been rolled back. 5 As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. 6 But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. 7 But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” 8 So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.

In the Book of Mark, we find a truncated version of the resurrection story; one that ends with the women fleeing the tomb, saying nothing to anyone out of fear. The scene makes perfect sense from the perspective of the women. Everything they saw at the tomb would have registered as NOT NORMAL.

In the Hebrew world, anointing a body for burial was a normal part of the ritual of women. Unfortunately, the timing of Jesus’ death made it impossible for the women to attend to Jesus’ body because of cleanliness laws and the receiving of Passover. Still, once Passover was complete, ensuring that Jesus’ body was properly interred was of paramount importance. What the women find when they reached the tomb defied logic. It didn’t make any sense to them.

It might have been easier to wrestle with an empty tomb if the messenger of God had stayed away. The women could have easily made up a story as to what happened to Jesus. He could have been stolen. He could have been moved for safety reasons. No doubt, they would have immediately told the disciples—Jesus is missing. Eventually they might have put all the pieces together, especially when Jesus shows up. Surprise!

But, no, someone was at the tomb, someone the women did not recognize. He speaks to them and tells them that Jesus isn’t there. That alone would have been a duh moment. The women weren’t blind. But to go on to say that Jesus had risen, that was pushing the envelope. Imagine how you would react to such news.

The question that rises from this tale is, “If the women told no one, how is Mark telling the story?”

I asked that question once in Sunday school and was told not to be a “smart aleck”. It was actually a legitimate question. For those of us who study the Bible and who think about the theological implications of such statements, it makes a world of difference. It is significant in that because of Mark’s truncated ending, later writers felt the need to add two additional endings to the Book of Mark, endings that spin the gospel in a wildly different direction than I imagine Mark intended.

If Mark had added one word, it would have made his story more believable—initially…and they “initially” said nothing to no one, for they were afraid. That makes sense to me. Initially, I wouldn’t have said anything either, for fear of being seen as crazy. But after a minute or two of conversation with the other women, I would be able to convince myself that I needed to tell someone what I had just witnessed. There is no way I could keep this to myself.

In truth, we don’t know why the author of Mark ended his gospel the way he did. But we know that Mark (the individual) knew more than what he wrote, because the entire Coptic Christian tradition is built on Mark’s testimony of the risen Christ (I’ll save this topic for another post). Notice the distinction—the author of Mark may not have been Mark who becomes Saint Mark, or who was a follower of Jesus. The Book of Mark may have been penned by someone using Mark’s name to lend the gospel credibility. What we do know, though, is that whoever wrote the Book of Mark felt the need to end it with the women not testifying to anyone about the risen Christ.

From a different perspective, it feels as though the writer of Mark was okay with the women taking care of the body of Jesus, because that is woman’s work, but he was not okay with the women testifying to the resurrection of Jesus, the Christ, because their role in this story needs to be contained and controlled.

The other gospels don’t tell the story much better, especially from the women’s perspective, and is worth noting that only in the Book of Matthew do they play the star role.

In the Book of Matthew, which is the next gospel to be written following Mark, the women encounter an angel at the tomb. We read in Matthew 28:8 their reaction: “So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy and ran to tell his disciples.” Matthew acknowledges the fear but adds the “great joy” bit and that they run to tell the disciples. This passage gives the women more agency over the story than does Mark. Not only do they feel great joy, as they are running to tell the disciples, they have an encounter with Jesus on the road. It is Jesus that tells them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.” And, as far as we know, the women go.

In the Book of Luke, which follows Matthew in its writing, we find the women being greeted by two men who were dazzling white. This encounter frightened them, but they listened to the men and were reminded of Jesus’ words. Luke’s text has multiple women at the tomb, and they all return to tell the disciples about what they saw. Luke is more inclusive of women and takes their story more seriously. However, when the women tell the disciples, they were not believed. So much so that Peter had to run to the tomb and discover for himself that the tomb was empty. So, while Luke is more inclusive of women, Luke is also quick to point out that the patriarchy must remain intact.

The Book of John is the final gospel to be written and it rewrites the whole story. Mary Magdalene in the only woman who goes to the tomb, and as soon as she sees that the stone has been rolled away, she runs to get Simon Peter and the other disciple who loved Jesus (we don’t know who this is). She exclaims to them that someone has taken Jesus’ body and she has no idea where he is. The two disciples raced to the tomb, Peter enters first then the other disciple and they both believed. There is no supernatural encounter with a young man, an angel, or two dazzling men, just an empty tomb that signaled to Peter and the other disciple that Jesus had risen. John has the disciples returning to their home without any further information about the women.

How we read the story of the resurrection matters. The writers of the story of the resurrection shaped the characters to fulfill a particular role. Do you find yourself in the story? Would you run in fear and not tell anyone, or would you have an encounter with Jesus on the road to tell the disciples? Would you allow yourself to be disbelieved, or even written out of the story all together? We must make space for all the stories, all the ways in which Jesus shows up in the lives of those closest to him, including the women.

Mark 11:1-10 Jesus' "Triumphal" Entry

When they were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples and said to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately as you enter it, you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden; untie it and bring it. If anyone says to you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately.’” They went away and found a colt tied near a door, outside in the street. As they were untying it, some of the bystanders said to them, “What are you doing, untying the colt?” They told them what Jesus had said; and they allowed them to take it. Then they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it; and he sat on it. Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting,

“Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

The writer of the Book of Mark does a spectacular job of paring down the details of this story and giving us the essentials. Jesus is coming to town. He sends two disciples to fetch a colt. Jesus predicts that the disciples will be questioned about taking the colt so Jesus provides them with precise instructions regarding what to say in the event he is correct. They are, in fact, questioned about getting the colt and respond with Jesus' words. They take the colt to Jesus, put their cloaks on the colt, and Jesus rides the colt into the city. People gather around Jesus placing their cloaks on the road along with leafy branches. And they sing and cheer Jesus on.

We learn a number of things from this passage.

1. Jesus wanted to make a big entrance into the city. This was not his first time in the city. He had come many times with his family, especially for the Feast of Passover and other religious holidays. So it seems odd that on this particular trip to the city he decided to make a spectacle of himself.

2. Jesus chose to enter on the back of a colt (in other texts it calls the beast a donkey, or an ass; either way, a beast of burden). This was not the animal fit for a king, a prince, or even a Roman soldier. Jesus didn't care because he was making a statement about one's station in life; that station mattered little in God's kingdom.

3. The people responded to Jesus' entrance. They laid their cloaks in the streets along with leafy branches. Cloaks and branches signify an elevation in status as though the people were acknowledging his kingship.

4. The people sang as Jesus entered the city. They recognized him as a descendant of David and they hoped he was the one who had come to liberate them from their oppressors, the Roman Empire.

What this passage does not tell us.

1. Jesus entered the Gate of Nicodemus, a back gate into the city of Jerusalem built by Nicodemus, a member of the religious elite. The entrance opened right into the living quarters of the people; the people to whom Jesus' message would be most liberating.

2. Jesus knew that going to Jerusalem was dangerous. He told his disciples ahead of time that he was going to die. He knew he was going to risk everything by standing up to the religious leaders of his day, reflective in the passages that follow Jesus' entrance into the city.

3. Pilate, the Roman ruler over Jerusalem, was riding in through the front gate at the same time Jesus was riding in the back gate. Pilate did not receive any fanfare, no songs, no cloaks, no leafy branches.

4. The writers of the Book of Mark do not give us much insight into Jesus' thinking, we simply see Jesus act. We see Jesus riding into the city and in the very next passage going to the temple and throwing over the tables of the moneychangers.

This passage barely gives us a glimpse into what the people were thinking. They clearly saw Jesus as someone special, someone to be elevated to a higher status, but at the same time, were startled or taken aback when Jesus was arrested. We do not know how many of those who welcomed Jesus at the beginning of the week also shouted "Crucify Him" at the end of the week. I imagine, though, that there were quite a few. No doubt, they were disappointed. It is in how they describe Jesus that we get our greatest clue of all, "Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!"

They weren't necessarily shouting for Jesus, the man, but rather shouting and singing in hopes that Jesus was the descendant of David who would usher in a new kingdom, one that was free of Roman occupation and oppression. When Jesus didn't bring an army, swords, or even sharp words, there was some concern. And, after making a scene at the temple, ultimately getting arrested, the people who hailed his coming cursed his presence. I imagine they felt betrayed. The hope that they had held onto for so long was once again dashed. It must have been terrifying for the people to think they risked their own lives to elevate Jesus when he failed to deliver what they believed is the fulfillment of ancient prophecies.

Strangely enough, Jesus never promised to be that kind of king. Jesus spent every day of his ministry trying to reorient the people toward a different kind of kingdom, a different way of living in community. Roman Empire or not, Jesus believed that the people could still live free because freedom begins in the heart. Freedom is about how we treat one another; how we love and live in community. Freedom is trusting that God is big enough to handle everything happening in this world and throughout the cosmos.

The bigger question is, "Are we willing to risk following Jesus into Jerusalem and going to jail with him?"