Atonement Without Anselm

Romans 5:18

Therefore just as one man’s trespass led to condemnation for all, so one man’s act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all.

In verse 18, Paul draws to a conclusion what he began in verse 12: “Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death came through sin, and so death spread to all because all have sinned—” Carefully balancing two parallel clauses, he argues that just as one man’s trespass brought condemnation, so one man’s righteous act brings justification.¹

Notice what Paul does here. He drops all talk of ethnic distinctions—the categories that have so vividly defined his writing up to this point—and reverts to the singular banner of “men”² (or “all” in the NRSV). Paul never wanted to draw ethnic distinctions in the first place, having been forced to do so only on account of the situation in Rome. His real aim is to banish such categories from the minds of his audience, hoping they will abandon ethnic self-perceptions and see themselves simply as “Messiah-people.”³ Identity, for Paul, is grounded in faith, not culture or ethnicity.⁴

This is the argument he has been building since chapter one. All people, Jew and Gentile alike, stand in relationship to one of two men: either aligned with Adam and the accompanying condemnation for sin, or aligned with Christ and God’s saving work.⁵ Through Adam’s trespass, condemnation has come to all people, thereby dismantling Jewish claims to nationalistic superiority and setting the stage for the universal applicability of Christ’s work.⁶

The Scope of Paul’s “For All”

Modern theological assumptions can easily obscure what Paul is doing here. He argues that Adam’s sin brought universal condemnation, then writes of “justification that brings life for all men.” Read as an exposition on individual salvation, this verse could support universalism—and some have read it that way.⁷ If Adam’s disobedience brought universal condemnation, the logic goes, Christ’s righteousness must bring universal justification.

This reading, however, misunderstands Paul’s purpose, projecting modern Western individualism back onto the text.⁸ Paul does not have the concept of individual salvation in mind here, so such a debate is out of place. We must be careful not to impose anachronistic doctrinal questions about the eternal destiny of individuals onto a passage where Paul’s purpose lies elsewhere.

What, then, does Paul mean by “for all” (literally, “to all men”)? Just as some have cited this verse for universal salvation, others have used it to support universal sinfulness. Neither captures Paul’s intention. His point is not that all men “without exception” were made sinners, but that all men “without ethnic distinction” were made sinners—an argument that fits squarely within the letter’s larger theme.⁹ (This is not to deny universal sinfulness, only to deny that this verse addresses it.)

Original Death, Not Merely Original Sin

Paul’s emphasis here falls not on inherited sin in the Augustinian sense but on what we might call “original death.” The distinction matters.

The Western Church, following Augustine and especially the Council of Trent (Session V, 1546), has dogmatically affirmed original sin as transmitted by propagation, not merely imitation—a teaching the Catholic Church continues to uphold (CCC 388–390, 396–409). The Eastern Christian tradition, while affirming the universality of sin and death, has historically understood the transmission differently, emphasizing what it calls “ancestral sin”: the inheritance of mortality and a disordered condition rather than personal guilt for Adam’s act.

The point here is not to adjudicate between these traditions but to observe that Paul’s argument in this passage does not depend on either formulation. Romans 5 does not speculate on how Adam’s sin transfers from one generation to the next¹⁰ but rather emphasizes that sin always results in death.

Paul’s “for all,” then, refers to all people without regard to ethnicity—“all peoples”—rather than every individual. Just as the sin of Adam condemns all, regardless of race, so also the grace of Christ extends to every ethnicity, Jew and Gentile alike.¹¹ Paul’s “universalism is of the sort that holds to Christ as the way for all.”¹²

Paul subverts the Jewish tendency to divide the world between Jew and Gentile by dividing it instead between those who put their faith in Jesus Christ and those who do not—a criterion that transcends ethnicity entirely. Jews and Gentiles alike are affected by sin and death; salvation through Jesus Christ is made available on the same terms to both groups. This theme of radical universalism in Paul’s soteriology—the dismantling of ethnic and covenantal distinctions—is central to his treatment of predestination and election in Romans 9–11, where he addresses Israel’s place in the economy of salvation.

In effect, Paul refutes the limited nationalism of first-century Judaism in favor of a salvation plan absent ethnic distinction, including the observation of traditional cultural customs.¹³

Christ’s “Act of Righteousness”

Paul points to Christ’s death—his “act of righteousness”—as the event ushering in an entirely new era. To read this as a reference to the entire life of Christ would weaken the verse’s carefully balanced contrast and its callback to 3:24–26.¹⁴ But we must not push this too far.

To present only two options—completely isolating Christ’s redemptive work to the cross, or viewing his life as a mere recapitulation—is to create a false dichotomy. Paul does have Christ’s death specifically in mind as the “one act of righteousness,” but we should be wary of our modern Western tendency to isolate that death entirely from the rest of his life.

The word “trespass” (paraptōma) in verse 18 is itself revealing. The same Greek word appears in Romans 11:11—“So I ask, have they stumbled so as to fall? By no means! But through their stumbling [italics added] salvation has come to the Gentiles, so as to make Israel jealous”—and Galatians 6:1a—“My friends, if anyone is detected in a transgression [italics added], you who have received the Spirit should restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness.”¹⁵

In the Septuagint, the word most often denotes conscious, deliberate sin against God,¹⁶ though its semantic range also includes unintentional error and negligence. Outside Paul’s writings, it appears in the New Testament only in the parallel passages of Matthew 6:14–15 and Mark 11:25, where it emphasizes the nature of the act along with its consequences. (Only in Romans 5:20 does it suggest universal fact, and there as an outworking of Adam’s transgression.) In the context of Romans 5, where Paul is describing Adam’s primal act of rebellion, the connotation of deliberateness is particularly apt—though the word itself does not always carry this force.¹⁷

The word is also comparatively rare, appearing only about twenty times in the New Testament—far less than the more generic word for sin.¹⁸ Paul’s choice underscores the gravity of mankind’s rebellion against God, a rebellion that necessitated a decisive act of righteousness by the Messiah.

Paul points to the cross as a great divine act of covenantal faithfulness, whereby God, through Jesus Christ, addressed the problem of sin and opened salvation to all who would be justified through faith. The result is the transformation of individuals of all ethnicities—not merely from “condemned” to “saved” in the modern evangelical sense, but into “God’s true humanity,” his new creation.¹⁹

The Spiritual Warfare Worldview Behind Paul

Here we must pause and step back from two thousand years of theological development that have shaped our reading of this passage. The gulf between the modern and first-century mindsets is wider than we tend to acknowledge.

The worldview affirming ongoing spiritual warfare and its effect on humanity—though foreign to post-Enlightenment Western societies—has been a nearly universal phenomenon throughout the history of human culture. This perspective underpins Paul’s writings here. Behind his instruction on God’s plan of salvation is an understanding of the world as a spiritual battlefield.²⁰

To reduce the teachings of Romans to a purely legal scenario—a meritorious act of one overcoming the infraction of another—is to miss the cosmic significance that Paul attaches to Christ’s work.²¹ Because our presuppositions can so easily cloud our reading of this passage, we must now take an aside to address the theology of the atonement.

Clearing Anselm’s Fog

Mixing systematic theology with exegesis is always risky. We read Scripture through the lens of our theological systems, approach the text with preconceived conclusions, and can easily miss the author’s intended message.

Sometimes, however, the lens is so deeply engrained that it clouds our vision entirely, and we must step back to evaluate whether we are reading the text or merely confirming what we already believe. As N.T. Wright puts it, “You don’t look at your spectacles until looking through them becomes difficult.”²² I believe this is precisely the case with our modern understanding of the atonement and Paul’s words. (For a broader overview of the Christus Victor model and its place in the Christian tradition, see my companion essay.)

The First-Millennium Worldview

The belief in the ubiquity of spiritual warfare was common in the first century and remained so within the Church for at least the first millennium.²³ Origen’s argument that every particular aspect of the earth is under “the agency and control of certain beings whom we may call invisible husbandmen and guardians”²⁴ reflects this mindset. To read Paul without it is to read him without the theological atmosphere in which he breathed.

Adam’s Fall as Cosmic Rebellion

Underpinning Paul’s understanding of the atonement is the view that Adam, as God’s viceroy of creation, unleashed devastation when he rejected God’s lordship. Man, as ruler of creation, subjected himself to the destructive forces that oppose God’s reign.²⁵

The temptation of the serpent was not an arbitrary act of cruelty but an act of war against God, drawing man into cosmic rebellion. Adam’s trespass was more than a mere infraction demanding judicial satisfaction. It was a fall in the cosmic sense—an existential threat to all creation.

Adam’s rebellion allowed God’s enemies to take the world hostage, setting up Satan as “the prince of this age” and “the ruler of the kingdom of the air” (cf. John 12:31; Eph 2:2, 6:12; 1 John 5:19). It is into this context that Christ came. God, taking the form of man, fulfilled his own command to subdue the earth. Christ came and succeeded where Adam failed. Through his teaching, ministry, death, and resurrection, he vanquished Satan and restored humanity to its place as God’s viceroys on earth.²⁶

To Paul, sin and death are not mere ideas or abstract legal concepts. They are objective powers that Christ defeated to set man free.²⁷

Within this framework, the entire life and ministry of Christ demonstrates a profound unity of purpose. His seemingly disconnected activities—exorcisms, healings, miracles, as well as his death and resurrection—take on new coherence as acts of war.²⁸ The common early Christian view that “famine, blasting of the vine and fruit trees, pestilence among men and beasts…are the proper occupations of demons”²⁹ means that “[e]very healing, exorcism, or raising of the dead is a loss for Satan and a gain for God.”³⁰

Atonement, in this view, is not merely judicial satisfaction. It is an all-inclusive cosmic act, extending to all creation.³¹

Atonement as Cosmic Act

Atonement and incarnation are therefore inseparable.³² Christ’s atoning work may have culminated at the cross, but it cannot be limited to it.³³ As Joseph Ratzinger argued, a sound Christology demands that the theology of the cross become one with the theology of the incarnation.³⁴ To miss this central aspect of Pauline theology is to miss the passage.

This does not mean Paul packs the entirety of this atonement theology into Romans 5. It means we cannot appreciate the cosmic significance he assigns to the work of Christ without understanding the theological framework governing his worldview. Paul saw the atonement as Christ’s deliverance of humanity from the evil that held it in bondage³⁵—a defeat of the “powers and principalities.”³⁶

Christ came as the true Adam, reversing the Adamic curse by succeeding where Adam failed and, as the true Israelite, bringing the salvation message to the entire world.

Anselm’s Feudal Reimagining

In reading Paul, we must look behind some of the later theological developments that have shaped—and at times narrowed—our understanding of the atonement.³⁷ Chief among these is the influence of Anselm of Canterbury’s eleventh-century masterwork, Cur Deus Homo. Anselm, whom the Catholic Church rightly honors as a Doctor of the Church, sought to provide a more rationally rigorous account of why the Incarnation was necessary, moving beyond what he considered the cruder ransom imagery that had become associated with the Christus Victor tradition.³⁸ In doing so, he constructed a theory deeply shaped by the feudal categories of his time.³⁹

Anselm’s contribution to atonement theology is genuinely significant. His rigorous logical method advanced the Western theological tradition in important ways, and the Catechism itself incorporates satisfaction language when discussing Christ’s redemptive sacrifice (cf. CCC 615–616). The difficulty is not with Anselm’s theory per se but with its subsequent dominance. Over time, his framework became so central in the West that it effectively displaced the earlier, more cosmic understanding of Christ’s work that had prevailed for the first millennium. It is this displacement, not the theory itself, that distorts our reading of Paul.

According to Anselm, humanity, as God’s vassals, had failed to render God his proper due, thereby insulting God’s honor—an offense that demanded recompense. Christ, therefore, came to die as a sinless man and restore what humanity owed. Through this act, Christ won merit that he could share with mankind.

Because Anselm’s project centered on the rational necessity of Christ’s death, the practical effect was that the cross became the nearly exclusive locus of atonement, and the incarnation receded into the background as the means by which atonement was made possible rather than an integral part of the saving act itself.⁴⁰

This framework still shapes Western Christianity today, though in modified form. As the law of the state replaced the honor of the ruler as the foundational civic authority, Anselm’s satisfaction theory evolved into what we now call penal substitution—a distinct theory, though one that shares Anselm’s basic structure of an offended God requiring recompense. Penal substitution often finds expression in statements about Christ’s taking our place and bearing the punishment for our sins.⁴¹

Beyond Penal Substitution

Paul does discuss themes of satisfaction and substitution, and they are genuinely important. But they are aspects of a much larger narrative. Failing to appreciate this can significantly distort Paul’s teachings and rob his writings of their power.

Paul does not portray the cross as a means to pacify an offended God. It is not a movement from below to above, a sacrifice brought to God to satisfy his wrath. Rather, it is God’s movement to us—“the expression of that foolish love of God’s that gives itself away to the point of humiliation in order thus to save man.”⁴² “The cross reconciles the world to God, not God to the world” (2 Cor 5:19).⁴³

Anselm’s framework, for all its brilliance, tends structurally in the opposite direction. By centering Christ’s accomplishment on what he achieves as man in restoring God’s honor, the logic of the satisfaction model can obscure God’s role as both the agent and the object of reconciliation. Gustaf Aulén and others have argued that this structural tendency makes a certain isolation of Christ’s death from the rest of his life and ministry—and, to some extent, from his resurrection—difficult to avoid.⁴⁴ This is not to say Anselm intended such a result; his project was more carefully circumscribed than his critics sometimes acknowledge. But the downstream effect on Western atonement theology has been real.

Grace, Not Justice, Governs God’s Movement

Paul’s Christology embraces the entire life of Christ, not just his death.⁴⁵ As I explore in my discussion of the Word in John 1:1, the incarnation itself carries profound theological significance. For Paul, the atonement is not ultimately about satisfying the demands of divine justice. In this new order, the relationship between God and man is governed not by merit or law but by grace.

Too often in our modern expressions of Christ’s atoning work, we reduce the divine-human relationship to a legal transaction governed by Western notions of justice. But Christ’s conquering of the powers enslaving creation demonstrates that salvation comes not through the demands of justice but in spite of them. God is indeed just—but his justice transcends our legalistic categories.⁴⁶

Cosmic Reconciliation and the Abrahamic Covenant

Because Anselm’s project in Cur Deus Homo was deliberately narrow—answering the specific question of why God became man—it did not address the cosmological dimensions that the Fathers had traditionally associated with the atonement. The result, over time, was a Western theology that treated human sin as if it were the only problem in the cosmos. Anselm himself may not have intended this narrowing, but his heirs largely accepted it.

The individual soteriological aspect is important. But the cosmic significance of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection is more ontologically fundamental, because the implications of Christ’s atoning work for the individual can only be appreciated in light of the cosmic victory it achieved.

Man is reconciled to God because creation is reconciled to God (cf. Col 1:15–22; CCC 668, 1043–1050).⁴⁷ To Paul, sin is not an abstract, impersonal force but a highly personal power associated not just with lawbreaking but with all the evil forces that oppress and enslave creation.⁴⁸

The totality of Christ’s life, culminating in his death and resurrection, restored to mankind what was lost in Genesis 3—defeating death and overcoming the illegitimate ruler of creation. This returns us to the passage at hand. Paul emphasizes his contrast between Christ and Adam through his drawn-out exposition on Abraham, for the thrust of his argument is that God called Abraham for the purpose of addressing the problem of man’s sin.⁴⁹

Paul’s argument throughout Romans is that Christ came not to save individuals per se but to fulfill the purpose of the Abrahamic covenant: to set right what Adam set wrong. When we reduce Romans to a systematic gospel of the individual, a roadmap for personal salvation, we miss Paul’s larger message: that God has been true to his promises to Abraham and, consequently, “that the long entail of sin and death has been overcome, so that the way is clear to the rescue of human beings and, through them, the rescue of the whole creation.”⁵⁰

What emerges from Romans 5 is a vision of atonement far richer than the legal transaction Western theology has often reduced it to. Paul’s cosmic Christology—in which Christ succeeds where Adam failed, vanquishes the powers that hold creation in bondage, and opens salvation to all peoples without ethnic distinction—demands that we hold together the incarnation, the cross, and the resurrection as a unified act of divine faithfulness. To read Paul well, we must be willing to set aside the theological spectacles we have inherited and encounter his message on its own terms: not as a courtroom drama between an offended God and guilty humanity, but as the story of a Creator who enters his own creation to set it free.

Frequently Asked Questions

What is the Christus Victor theory of atonement?

Christus Victor is the earliest and most widespread model of the atonement in Christian history. It understands Christ’s life, death, and resurrection as a cosmic victory over the powers of sin, death, and evil that hold creation in bondage. Rather than focusing primarily on legal satisfaction or penal substitution, Christus Victor presents the atonement as God entering creation to defeat the forces that enslaved it. This model dominated Christian theology for the first millennium and was championed by Church Fathers including Athanasius, Gregory of Nyssa, John Chrysostom, and Augustine.

How does Christus Victor differ from penal substitution?

Penal substitution, which shares structural roots with Anselm’s eleventh-century satisfaction theory but is a distinct development of the Reformation era, focuses almost exclusively on Christ’s death as bearing the punishment for human sin. Christus Victor, by contrast, encompasses Christ’s entire life—his teaching, miracles, exorcisms, death, and resurrection—as a unified act of divine warfare against evil. Where penal substitution portrays a movement “from below” (humanity satisfying an offended God), Christus Victor sees God moving toward humanity to liberate creation. The Catholic Church honors Anselm as a Doctor of the Church for good reason and incorporates satisfaction language in its own teaching (cf. CCC 615–616), but the earlier cosmic framework offers a broader account of Christ’s redemptive work that complements these insights.

What does Romans 5:18 teach about atonement?

Romans 5:18 presents Paul’s argument that just as Adam’s trespass brought condemnation to all peoples, Christ’s “act of righteousness” brings justification and life to all peoples. Paul’s “for all” refers to all humanity without ethnic distinction—not to every individual’s salvation. The verse reveals Paul’s cosmic understanding of Christ’s work: not a legal transaction between an offended deity and guilty humanity, but a divine act of covenantal faithfulness that addresses the universal problem of sin and death unleashed by Adam’s fall.

Does the Catholic Church teach Christus Victor?

The Catholic Church does not exclusively endorse any single atonement model. The Catechism incorporates satisfaction language (CCC 615–616) while also affirming the cosmic dimensions of Christ’s redemptive work (cf. CCC 635–637 on the descent into hell; CCC 668, 1043–1050 and Col 1:15–22 on cosmic reconciliation). Many Church Fathers whom the Church venerates—including Athanasius, the Cappadocians, and Augustine—articulated Christus Victor themes long before Anselm. The Catholic tradition is broad enough to hold together the legal, cosmic, and personal dimensions of Christ’s saving work, though modern Western catechesis has often emphasized satisfaction to the neglect of the earlier tradition.

Why does Paul use “for all” in Romans 5:18 if not everyone is saved?

Paul’s “for all” does not refer to the salvation of every individual but to the universal scope of both Adam’s condemnation and Christ’s saving work across all ethnic groups. Paul’s concern throughout Romans is to dismantle Jewish nationalistic claims to exclusive covenantal status. He wants the Roman Christians to see that sin and salvation transcend ethnicity—Jews and Gentiles alike stand condemned through Adam, and Jews and Gentiles alike can receive justification through Christ. Paul’s universalism “holds to Christ as the way for all.”

Footnotes

1. 1. See Harrison, 64. While some translations (e.g., NIV), treat the Greek word for “one” here adjectively (“one trespass,” “one righteous act”), a better translation treats the word pronominally (“one man”), referring first to Adam and then to Christ. Moo, 341; Wright, “Romans,” 529.

2. 2. Moo, 315.

3. 3. Wright, Paul, 1:397.

4. 4. See Ibid.

5. 5. Moo, 315.

6. 6. See Moo, 341–42.

7. 7. A. Hultgren, for example, argues that some are saved by faith in this life, while others who do not put their faith in God on earth will receive justification at judgment. See A. J. Hultgren, Christ and His Benefits: Christology and Redemption in the New Testament (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1987), 54–55 cited by Moo, 342.

8. 8. This is not to say that a debate regarding the eternal destinies of those who reject Christ is illegitimate. Indeed, while a pluralistic universalism—particularly in the form that is popularly associated with some strands of modern liberal Protestantism and the Unitarian Universalists—does not square with the biblical witness or Church Tradition, we should not confuse such beliefs with a larger view of post-mortem salvation. Some more nuanced views associated with post-death reconciliation have strong support among early great Christian thinkers, such as Cyril of Alexandria and Origen. The idea of an eventual universal reconciliation through Christ, therefore, should not be lumped together with the views of such non-Christian or post-Christian groups. These more Orthodox views, however, are generally linked to the idea of Christ’s descent into hell arising from the statement in 1 Peter 3:19–20 that Christ, after his death, “made a proclamation to the spirits in prison, who in former times did not obey…” While this doctrine is complex and its development throughout Church history is beyond the scope of our purposes here, it should be noted that, since very early in the Church, there has been a commonly held belief—though not one without controversy, with Augustine of Hippo labeling such a belief heresy—that, while individuals can be saved only through faith in Christ, the ability to choose to believe does not terminate at death. See Hilarion Alfeyev, Christ the Conqueror of Hell: The Descent into Hades from an Orthodox Perspective (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2009), 78, 193. Such a discussion may be worth having but is irrelevant to the passage at hand.

9. 9. Mark Rapinchuk, “Universal Sin and Salvation in Romans 5:12–21,” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 42, no. 3 (September 1999): 437.

10. 10. That is, this verse does not adjudicate the longstanding difference between Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox formulations of original sin. The Catholic Church’s dogmatic teaching on original sin (Council of Trent, Session V; CCC 396–409) and the Eastern understanding of ancestral sin represent distinct theological developments that both postdate Paul’s letter. Paul’s concern here is the universality of sin’s consequences across ethnic lines, not the mechanism of sin’s transmission.

11. 11. Ibid., 428–30.

12. 12. Wright, “Romans,” 529.

13. 13. Rapinchuk, 430–34.

14. 14. See James D. G. Dunn, Romans 1–8 (WBC; Dallas: Word, 1988), 283. Indeed, we cannot accept the recapitulation theory that Christ simply reversed the course started by Adam by setting the right example. Nowhere does Paul argue that Christ brought redemption to humanity through the sum of many different acts. Ibid.

15. 15. NRSV translation.

16. 16. There are places where the word stands for unintentional sins (e.g., Ps 19:12) and negligence in regard to duty (e.g., Dan 6:4), but they are isolated and rare. “paraptōma,” NIDNTT, 438. Paul’s contrasting use of the more generic word for sin elsewhere in this passage emphasizes the significance of the word.

17. 17. Ibid.

18. 18. See Ibid.; “hamartia,” NIDNTT, 38.

19. 19. Wright, “Romans,” 523.

20. 20. See Gregory A. Boyd, God At War (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1997), 11, 17.

21. 21. This is not to say that Paul does not utilize legal metaphors and courtroom imagery. Indeed, he does so frequently and with great force. Rather, it is to recognize our own overreliance on such metaphors and imagery to the neglect of other aspects of the Pauline message.

22. 22. Wright, Paul, 1:163.

23. 23. Robert H. Culpepper, Interpreting the Atonement (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1966), 73.

24. 24. Origen, “Against Celsus,” (ed. Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson; trans. Frederick Crombie; ANF; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1994), 4:651.

25. 25. Boyd, War, 107, 111.

26. 26. Ibid., 111–12.

27. 27. Gustaf Aulén, Christus Victor: An Historical Study of the Three Main Types of the Idea of the Atonement (trans. A. G. Hebert; Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 1931), 20.

28. 28. Boyd, War, 180.

29. 29. Origen, 4:651.

30. 30. Susan R. Garrett, The Demise of the Devil: Magic and the Demonic in Luke’s Writings (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1989), 55 cited by Boyd, War, 186.

31. 31. Stanley J. Grenz, Theology for the Community of God (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1994), 348.

32. 32. Aulén, 20, 59.

33. 33. Gregory A. Boyd, “Christus Victor View,” in The Nature of the Atonement, ed. James Beilby and Paul R. Eddy (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2006), 36. To utilize a modern analogy, we may consider passing the bar to be the cumulative event that makes a person a lawyer, but what makes him a lawyer is not limited exclusively to this event. You cannot isolate this exam from the rest of his education or even reduce his education to mere preparation for this exam without fundamentally misunderstanding and distorting the entire process of becoming an attorney.

34. 34. Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, Introduction to Christianity (trans. J. R. Foster; San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1968), 230.

35. 35. Culpepper, 73.

36. 36. Hans Boersma, Violence, Hospitality, and the Cross: Reappropriating the Atonement Tradition (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2004), 181; cf. Aulén, 37–39. The Church Fathers more fully developed this position into what became known as the Christus Victor view of atonement. While they held varying views of this theme, see Joel B. Green and Mark D. Baker, Recovering the Scandal of the Cross: Atonement in New Testament and Contemporary Contexts (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2000), 188, adherents to this basic model of the atonement include Justin Martyr, Origen, Athanasius, Basil the Great, Gregory of Nyssa, Gregory of Nazianzus, Cyril of Alexandria, Cyril of Jerusalem, John Chrysostom, and John of Damascus in the East and Ambrose, Augustine of Hippo, Leo the Great, Caesarius of Arles, Faustus of Rhegium, and Gregory the Great in the West. Boersma, 182; cf. Aulén, 37–39.

37. 37. At the same time, however, we must avoid reading back into Paul a more developed Christus Victor system.

38. 38. Aulén, 47. Anselm’s actual project is more nuanced than any brief summary can convey. Some scholars, including R. W. Southern, emphasize the work’s Benedictine monastic context and logical rigor over its social setting. For a separate treatment of the subjective view of the atonement, which I have largely set aside here, see my essay on Abelard and the subjective model.

39. 39. See J. Denny Weaver, The Nonviolent Atonement (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001), 16.

40. 40. Grenz, 343.

41. 41. The shift from Anselm’s feudal categories to the modern expression of penal substitution resulted from changes in European culture around the time of the Reformation. With the breakdown of feudalism and the rise of nation-states, the focus shifted from God’s honor to God’s wrath, and Christ came to be understood as the substitute recipient of divine punishment. While the two theories share a structural resemblance—both center on the cross as the satisfaction of a divine demand—they differ significantly. Anselm’s satisfaction theory emphasizes the restoration of God’s honor through Christ’s supererogatory merit, whereas penal substitution emphasizes the transfer of punishment. The Catholic Church incorporates satisfaction language in its teaching (cf. CCC 615–616) but has not endorsed penal substitution as such. Grenz, 344–45.

42. 42. Ratzinger, 281–82.

43. 43. Boyd, “Christus Victor,” 43.

44. 44. Aulén, 87–89, 151.

45. 45. James D. G. Dunn, The Theology of Paul the Apostle (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1998), 202.

46. 46. Aulén, 90–92, 145–46. Aulén raises several concerns about the satisfaction framework, including the question of why God’s acceptance of Christ’s death as recompense should not appear arbitrary, and the potential tension between satisfaction models and Trinitarian theology—since, as Augustine of Hippo argued, the Son cannot be understood to placate the Father without implying a conflict within the Godhead. These are contested points; scholars like R. W. Southern and David Brown have offered defenses of Anselm against such readings. The concerns nevertheless illustrate why the broader cosmic framework is valuable. Aulén, 58, 94.

47. 47. Boyd, “Christus Victor,” 33, 46.

48. 48. Boersma, 184.

49. 49. Wright, Justification, 226.

50. 50. Ibid.