Jesus died on the cross.
Why?
According to atonement theology, to wipe out our sins.
Why was that necessary?
Because the accumulation of sin had piled up our debt to God so hight that it was preventing us from entering heaven.
Without Jesus taking on that debt and paying it off for us, we would always be hopelessly under water, never able to pay it off ourselves.
But for God, this was an untenable situation, so God came as Jesus to fix it.
By Jesus paying off the debt, we were reunited with God and forever eligible for heaven.
Technical (“If/Then”) Theology:
This is an example of “technical theology,” a term I haven’t heard before and may have just invented, though the concept is not my own—it’s an application of Ronald Heifetz’s brilliant work on technical and adaptive leadership.*
Technical theology offers a cause-effect relationship between God and humanity. It describes if this, then that.
For instance:
If we are in debt because of sin (cause), then we don’t get into heaven (effect).
If Jesus pays the debt (cause), then we get into heaven (effect).
If I sin (cause), God then punishes me with misfortune (effect).
If I am good (cause), then God rewards me with blessing (effect).
If I don’t eat chocolate for Lent (cause), God then is pleased with me (effect).
If I break my chocolate fast during Lent (cause), then God is disappointed in me (effect).
The problem with technical theology is that it attempts (and fails) to control what is uncontrollable.
God’s grace is uncontrollable. God visits it upon the righteous and the unrighteous alike.
The “Promise” of Technical Theology: Safety
Oh, but how we want to control grace to make sure it always comes our way—or ensure we don’t cut it off and get tossed into the depths of Sheol!
We also don’t like to feel our vulnerability in the chaos of the world.
Ill health, financial ruin, and natural disasters can happen to anyone, anytime, as expressed in the common and theologically senseless phrase “There but for the grace of God go I.”
Technical theology attempts to supply the checklist that keeps us safe from misfortune: pray enough, confess enough, repent on your deathbed sincerely enough, and you can keep the chaos at bay.
At bottom, technical theology asks one question: what will keep me safe? What will keep me safe in this life and out of the clutches of chaos? What will keep me safely in God’s good graces? What will keep me safely bound for heaven?
Technical theology answers with cause-effect solutions: If you do this (cause), then you will be safe (effect).
The Problem with Technical Theology
Technical theology is inwardly and individually focused, even when it looks like it’s trying to save the world.
It also places all responsibility and credit for God’s grace—or lack thereof—on us rather than on God.
It’s focused on safety rather than love, sacrifice, or mercy.
This is shown when claiming, for example, that a natural disaster is God’s punishment on a certain group of people. The logic is that if we eliminate the group or their particular actions, then we’d keep God’s chaos of anger at bay.
It’s also shown when we shun some from the Body of Christ for not being a member of the same political party. If “those” people believed and behaved like we do, the thinking goes, then we (really, I) would all be safe.
Given that Jesus laid the path to his own crucifixion, however, it seems to me safety wasn’t his underlying concern or “why.”
The promise of Adaptive Theology: Transformation
Jesus’s “why” was transformation: the transformation of the human race into God’s beloved community.
It’s a theology not based on cause/effect and if/thens, but a theology based on from/to/because—and without a checklist!
A beautiful, messy, outwardly oriented work-in-progress inspired by our response to God’s abiding love, presence, and grace in our own lives.
For instance:
A transformation from being motivated by personal safety to global well-being (which includes safety) because God wants everyone to free to be and express all the facets of their being.
A transformation from most valuing the needs of the self to most valuing the needs of the community, because in the Body of Christ the appendix is valued as much as the brain.
A transformation from following a checklist of rules to breaking the rules in the name of compassion, because everyone should know they are valued.
A transformation from abstaining from chocolate because we “should” to abstaining from chocolate as a reminder of excess because we need to be reminded and act on behalf of those without basic necessities.
A transformation from futilely attempting to control the uncontrollable to trusting in God’s presence, resilience, and creativity because God never leaves us to fend for ourselves.
A transformation from one-and-done atonement to prophetic action, because those who are metaphorically held under water by oppressive systems need to be set free.
A transformation from believing—or else!—that Jesus died for our sins to trusting that Jesus died alongside us to release us from death, because released we can pour out God’s forgiveness for all, extravagantly.
Adaptive theology is uncomfortable because it doesn’t come with a blueprint, rule book, or even stick-figure assembly directions.
Instead it offers a snapshot of cleared ground where the reign of God waits to be built; a rendering of the renovated halls of justice where peace keepers hold dialogues instead of guns; a silhouette of all the peoples gathered to save the planet.
Jesus practiced adaptive theology through guidelines, examples, stories, and parables.
Adaptive theology, with God’s grace and guidance and Jesus’s example, expects us to work together to fill in the missing pieces even when we don’t quite know what it will look like and even when the tools haven’t even been invented yet.
Preaching adaptive theology is not comfortable. It keeps us off-balance and dependent on God’s grace. It finishes sermons with as much resolution as an unresolved chord.
But it works because it moves us from me-first to God-and-neighbor first, because God wants to give us so much more than a band-aid.
God wants to raise the dead.
*Heifetz, Ronald, Marty Linsky, and Alexander Grashow: Adaptive Leadership (Collection), Harvard Business Review Press.