IN an art collection in Boston there is a god--a redeemer--the best
illustration I have ever seen of the vicarious atonement theory. It is
a perfect representation of the agony endured by a helpless and innocent
being in order to relieve the guilty of their guilt. This god was
captured in Central Africa before his mission was complete, and there is
still suffering-space upon his body unused.
It is a wooden image of some frightful beast, and it is represented as
suffering the most intense physical agony. Nails are driven into its
head, body, legs, and feet. Each wrongdoer who wanted to relieve himself
of his own guilt drove a nail, a tack, a brad, or a spike into the flesh
of his god. The god suffered the pain; the man escaped the punishment.
He cast his burdens on his god, and went on his way rejoicing. Here is
vicarious atonement in all its pristine glory. The god is writhing
and distorted with pain; the criminal has relieved himself of further
responsibility, and his faith has made him whole. His sins are forgiven,
and his god will assume his load.
It is curious to examine the various illustrations of human nature as
represented by the size and shape of the nails. A sensitive man had
committed a trifling offence, and he drove a great spike into the head
of the god. A thick-skinned criminal inserted a small tack where it
would do the least harm--in the hoof. An honest, or an egotistic
penitent drove his nail in where it stands out prominently; while the
secretive devotee placed his among a mass of others of long standing and
inconspicuous location.
One day I stood with a friend looking at this god. My friend, who was a
devout believer in the vicarious theory of justification and punishment
as explained _away_ by the ethical divines of Boston, was unable to see
anything but the most horrible brutality and willingness to inflict
pain on the part of these African devotees, and was equally unable to
recognize the same principle when applied to orthodoxy. She said, "Is it
not horrible, the ignorance and superstition of these poor people? What
a vast field of labor our missionaries have."
To her the idea of justification by faith in a suffering god meant only
superstition and brutality when plainly illustrated in somebody else's
religion; but the same idea, the same morality, the same justice, she
thought beautiful when applied to Christianity.
I said, "There is the whole vicarious theory in wood and iron. That
is exactly the same as the Christian idea; and the same human
characteristics are plainly traceable in the size and location of these
nails.
"A Presbyterian or a Methodist drives his nail in the most conspicuous
spot, where the flesh is tender and the suffering plainly visible. The
Episcopalian or Catholic uses a small tack, and drives it as much out of
sight as possible, covering it over with stained glass, and distracting
the attention with music; but the bald, cruel, unjust, immoral,
degrading, and dishonest principle is there just the same.
"Faith in blind acts of devotion; the suffering of innocence for guilt;
transferring of crime; comfort and safety purchased for self by the
infliction of pain and unmerited torture upon another; premiums offered
for ignorance and credulity; punishments guaranteed for honest doubt and
earnest protest--all these beautiful provisions of the vicarious theory
are as essential to our missionary's belief as to that of his African
converts; and it seems to me simply a choice between thumbs up and
thumbs down."
While we were talking my friend's pastor joined us, and she told him
what I had said, and asked him what was the difference between the
Christian and the heathen idea of a suffering god. He said he could
explain it in five minutes some morning when he had time. He said
that the one was the true and living faith, and the other was blind
superstition. He also said that he could easily make us see which was
which. Then he gracefully withdrew with the air of one who says: "In six
days God made the heavens and the earth, and on the seventh day _he_
and _I_ rested." He has not called since to explain. While he stayed,
however, his manner was deeply, solemnly, awfully impressive; and of
course I resigned on the spot.
The theory of vicarious atonement is the child of cowardice and fear.
It arranges for a man to be a criminal and to escape the consequences
of his crime. It destroys personal responsibility, the most essential
element of moral character. It is contrary to every moral principle.
The Church never has been and never will be able to explain why a god
should be forced to resort to such injustice to rectify a mistake of his
own. To earnest questions and honest thoughts it has always replied with
threats. It has always silenced inquiry and persecuted thought. Past
authority is its god, present investigation its devil. With it brains
are below par, and ignorance is at a premium. It has never learned that
the most valuable capital in this world is the brain of a scholar.