A Relational Theory of the Atonement: African Contributions to Western Philosophical Theology 1032536330, 9781032536330

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“Lougheed’s combination of African moral theory with recent work in analytic atonement theology promises to deepen the conceptual tools through which we can glimpse the reasonability of Christ’s work. It is a welcome addition to the ever-increasing and widening literature on the doctrine of atonement today.” Jonathan C. Rutledge, Harvard University, USA

A RELATIONAL THEORY OF THE ATONEMENT

While the atonement is a central component of Christianity, there is little agreement in the tradition about how it should be understood. This book develops and defends a novel relational theory of atonement inspired by African relational ethics. This book brings important themes from African ethics into conversation with the contemporary philosophical literature on the atonement. The author employs an African relational ethic that says an act is right inasmuch as it is friendly where friendliness is understood as identifying with others and expressing solidarity with them. This relational ethic sheds new light on the problem of sin, by emphasising the relational disharmony it produces between God and humans. When applied to the Atonement, the passion and death of Christ can be understood as an ultimate act of friendliness in reconciling humanity to God. The author also explores questions about the nature of justice, forgiveness, and reconciliation. He shows how constructive punishment ought to be included in genuine forms of reconciliation and as such how punishment can be part of his Relational Theory of the Atonement. The last part of the book develops alternative theories of the atonement based on two important African normative theories located in personhood and in life force. Overall, the book makes the case that the Relational Theory of the Atonement should be considered as a serious competitor to longer-established Western theories. A Relational Theory of the Atonement will appeal to scholars and advanced students interested in philosophy of religion, philosophical theology, African philosophy, and comparative philosophy. Kirk Lougheed is Assistant Professor of Philosophy and Director of the Center for Faith and Flourishing at LCC International University. He is also Research Associate at the University of Pretoria. He has published numerous books and articles in epistemology, philosophy of religion, and African philosophy.

Routledge Studies in the Philosophy of Religion

Philosophical Essays on Divine Causation Edited by Gregory E. Ganssle Aquinas on Faith, Reason, and Charity Roberto Di Ceglie A Philosophy of Faith Belief, Truth and Varieties of Commitment Finlay Malcolm and Michael Scott Value Beyond Monotheism The Axiology of the Divine Edited by Kirk Lougheed God, Evil, and Redeeming Good A Thomistic Theodicy Paul A. Macdonald Jr. Classical Theism New Essays on the Metaphysics of God Edited by Robert C. Koons and Jonathan Fuqua The Epistemology of Spirit Beliefs Hans Van Eyghen A Relational Theory of the Atonement African Contributions to Western Philosophical Theology Kirk Lougheed For more information about this series, please visit: www.routledge.com/ Routledge-Studies-in-the-Philosophy-of-Religion/book-series/SE0427

A Relational Theory of the Atonement African Contributions to Western Philosophical Theology Kirk Lougheed

First published 2024 by Routledge 605 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10158 and by Routledge 4 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon, OX14 4RN Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2024 Kirk Lougheed The right of Kirk Lougheed to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. ISBN: 978-1-032-53633-0 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-032-53635-4 (pbk) ISBN: 978-1-003-41287-8 (ebk) DOI: 10.4324/9781003412878 Typeset in Sabon by codemantra

For the Blank family of Tim, Samantha, Theo, and Lily and, For the Cox family of Michael, Terese, Nathaniel, James, and Silas

Contents

Prefacexi Acknowledgementsxiii xv Chapter Summaries 1 Introduction: African Philosophy and the Atonement

1

PART 1

A Relational Theory of the Atonement17 2 An Initial Statement of the Relational Theory of the Atonement19 3 Reconciliation, Forgiveness, and Constructive Punishment 30 4 The Death Penalty as Constructive Punishment

46

5 The Moral Objection and Divine Relational Rescue

57

6 The Relational Theory of the Atonement: Tentatively Nearing Completion

85

PART 2

Other African Theories of the Atonement89 7 A Personhood Theory of the Atonement

91

8 A Life Force Theory of the Atonement

109

9 Conclusion: Just the Beginning for Comparative Philosophical Theology

126

Index131

Preface

The idea for this book was born out of my growing suspicion that penal substitution models did not offer an adequate account of the Atonement. Though I initially desired to undertake a systematic study of the history of scholarship on the Atonement, I quickly realised that this would be a massive undertaking that would amount to a life’s work. I was glad to discover that there were numerous alternatives to penal substitution, but I despaired at the fact that mastering the vast literature on the Atonement would be impossible given the research projects on other topics I also hoped to pursue. I also wondered whether it would be possible to make a genuinely original contribution to the literature given how much had already been written on the Atonement. It wasn’t until the last few years when I began to work in contemporary African philosophy that I started to see a way for me to make a meaningful contribution to the literature on the Atonement. Though African theologians had certainly written on the Atonement, little work had been done to bring insights from contemporary African moral philosophy to bear on questions about the Atonement. In the Anglo-American tradition, philosophers were utilising resources in the Western philosophical tradition to help understand the Atonement and I saw no reason why the same approach couldn’t be taken with African philosophy. As I say in the book, though it’s technically possible that my project had already been conceived of in the Western tradition on the Atonement, it’s extremely unlikely given the unique characteristics of African communitarianism when compared to the Western tradition. I believe that philosophical theology has much to gain from engaging with the African intellectual tradition. I hope that this book amounts to some small evidence in support of this claim. I also hope that it can serve as one possible model for how to conduct fruitful cross-cultural scholarship. Not too long ago a project like this one would have been inconceivable. And even if it had been conducted, it would have been unlikely to appear with a major academic press as it does now. Slowly but surely, the

xii Preface Anglo-American philosophy of religion and philosophical theology are becoming more global fields. Though I am eager to see how my colleagues react to this book, I am most curious to see their own forays into global and cross-cultural scholarship. Kirk Lougheed Klaipeda, Lithuania

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank my editor at Routledge, Andrew Weckenmann. He was very supportive of this project from the first time I approached him about it. He also secured referee reports on the full-length manuscript within just a few months, which is not an easy feat. I would like to thank the two anonymous referees that reviewed the entire manuscript. These were by far the most detailed reports I have ever received. Both made extensive notes on the entire manuscript. And both were particularly helpful in three respects. First, they prompted me to reconsider the structure and flow of the work in order to improve readability. Second, they each offered a number of important additional sources for me to bring into conversation with my ideas. Third, they caught an embarrassing number of typos! I am confident the manuscript is much improved because of their reports. My student assistant at LCC International University, Lika Beradze, helpfully compiled bibliographical information, and for compiling the index. She also carefully proofread the entire manuscript prior to final submission. I’m thankful for her attention to detail and consistent ability to meet deadlines. Early ideas for this book were presented at the 2021 annual meeting of the Canadian Society for Christian Philosophers. I’m grateful to the audience members for their many thoughtful questions. These initial ideas were also published as “Toward an African Theory of the Atonement” in The Journal of Analytic Theology. Though none of the content is reprinted in this book, this article did help to organise my beginning thoughts about this project. I have been fortunate enough to have a good circle of philosophy friends and mentors. Though not necessarily directly related to this project, I would like to thank Nathan Ballantyne, Joshua Harris, Perry Hendricks, Liz Jackson, Klaas J. Kraay, Yujin Nagasawa, and Myron A. Penner. In different ways, each of these philosophers are a source of support and encouragement.

xiv Acknowledgements It will be obvious to the reader that the work of Thaddeus Metz has been hugely influential in my thinking about African moral philosophy. I’m privileged to be able to frequently correspond with him about all things philosophy. This manuscript benefitted from his feedback, in addition to many informal conversations about related topics. More generally, Thad has been a steadfast encourager of my research programme. The amount of time he has given to me over the last few years is extremely generous. It’s uncommon for junior scholars to be given significant teaching reductions in order to pursue their research agendas. It’s even more uncommon for this to happen at a small liberal arts college. However, I find myself enjoying the benefits of a small and collegial university while simultaneously having significant research support, particularly in the form of course release. My former Dean, J.D. Mininger, was extremely supportive of my research endeavours. I am currently served by two interim administrators in Mark Sargent and Joe Harder, both of whom have been supportive of my research programme. I’m grateful to you all for your support. I also wish to thank a number of colleagues and friends at LCC who have supported me in various ways. They are Hailey Altena, Joel Altena, Benjamin Groenewold, Tricia Van Dyck, and Steve van Zanen. I apologise to anyone I have forgotten. This book could be dedicated to my parents, Stephenson and Diane Lougheed, particularly given that they were the ones who first introduced me to the Atonement at a young age. They have also always been supportive of my choice to pursue philosophy, even if they are sometimes puzzled by it. However, having dedicated my doctoral dissertation to them, I want to instead acknowledge two sets of friends. The first is the Blank family of Tim, Samantha, Theo, and Lily who have been some of my best friends for many years. It is a comfort to be able to go through life with such reliable friends. The second is the Cox family of Michael, Terese, Nathaniel, James, and Silas. They welcomed me into their home when I was ill, lonely, and far away from my own home. Living and working far away from one’s home presents many challenges, and they have truly given me a ‘home away home.’ Though there is no real way for me to repay these families for their friendship, I dedicate this book to them as a small token of appreciation.

Chapter Summaries

Chapter One Introduction: African Philosophy and the Atonement introduces the nature of the comparative project between African ethics and Western theories of the atonement. The purpose of the book is to bring important themes from African ethics into conversation with ideas about the Christian atonement. Specifically, I develop a Relational Theory of the Atonement which is inspired by ideas in African philosophy. I explain that a theory counts as African if it draws upon ideas that have been salient on the African continent for an extended period of time, even if such ideas are not exclusive to it. The book will proceed with a number of theological assumptions in place including that there is a maximal being, God, who created and sustains the world, that humans are somehow fallen and separated from God, and that God became incarnate in Jesus Christ, who willingly sacrificed himself to remedy the situation. Though the main goal of this book is to offer an African-inspired theory of the Atonement and as such it will likely be of most interest to those who actually believe the Atonement occurred, it can still be of interest to those who do not believe my theological assumption. For example, those individuals who are interested in comparative philosophy, African philosophy, and debates about the nature of justice and forgiveness will likely be curious about different parts of the book. Part I: A Relational Theory of the Atonement

Chapter Two An Initial Statement of the Relational Theory of the Atonement serves as the entry point to the construction of my Relational Theory of the Atonement. The foundation for this theory is Thaddeus Metz’s Moral Relational Theory. This theory says that an act is right inasmuch as it is friendly. A person exhibits friendliness through identification with others and by expressing solidarity with others. This relational ethic sheds new light on the problem of sin, by emphasising the relational disharmony it produces between God and humans. When applied to the

xvi  Chapter Summaries Atonement, the passion and death of Christ can be understood as the ultimate act of friendliness in exhibiting extremely high levels of solidarity and identification with humanity. This relational account reconciles humanity to God, thereby solving the backward-looking problem of sin. It also solves the forward-looking problem in removing the human disposition towards unfriendliness.
 Chapter Three Reconciliation, Forgiveness, and Constructive Punishment begins by explaining that African theories of reconciliation tend to reject the idea that justice includes punishment, and instead favour public disavowals and apologies. With Metz, I suggest that while these are indeed required in order to undertake reconciliation, so too is a constructive punishment that compensates the victim and reforms the character of the wrongdoer. This idea fits with Metz’s Moral Relational Theory in focusing on respecting our capacity to engage in friendliness. Not only do these ideas have an African pedigree, but they serve as a foundation for explaining why the Relational Theory of the Atonement plausibly includes punishment. Finally, though forgiveness might not be a necessary condition for reconciliation, an ideal form of it would indeed include forgiveness. Since the Atonement is ideal, I do not need to adjudicate the debate over whether forgiveness and reconciliation are entirely distinct concepts or depend upon each other or that one is a subspecies of the other, etc. I successfully show how constructive punishment can be part of the Relational Theory of the Atonement I am building. Whether this punishment can plausibly be construed as constructive is a question I take up in the next chapter. Chapter Four The Death Penalty as Constructive Punishment addresses the fact that the death penalty is typically rejected in African moral philosophy, including in Metz’s own moral thought. I argue that the Atonement intuitively meets the criteria for a rare exception where the death penalty is indeed permissible. This is primarily because the Atonement restores humanity’s capacity for friendly relationship with God. Alternatively, Christ’s death can perhaps be understood as a sacrifice, not as an execution. The permissibility of such sacrifices is well-established in the African tradition and nothing about them implies that the person sacrificed lacks a dignity or intrinsic value. Chapter Five The Moral Objection and Divine Relational Rescue addresses what I take to be the most serious challenge to the Relational Theory of the Atonement. The problem arises because substitution violates strong moral intuitions about the fact that one person cannot take the blame for another’s wrongdoing. I argue that shifting from an individual to communal outlook alleviates at least some of the force behind this intuition. Furthermore, I defend a model whereby an individual can undertake reconciliation on behalf of someone else even if they aren’t guilty for that person’s wrong. If someone is part of the wrongdoer’s community, feels

Chapter Summaries  xvii shame on their behalf, wishes to exhibit solidarity with the victims, then they can freely undertake reconciliation on behalf of the wrongdoer. This is a kind of Relational Rescue, and it neatly applies to the Atonement. Christ is part of the human community and therefore can feel shame for the wrongs of humans even though he is not guilty for them. While Divine Relational Rescue might not be the only way for humanity to be reconciled with God it is good that it happened, it addresses our guilt, and it avoids practical problems with other types of reconciliation. Divine Relational Rescue is an African-inspired solution to the Moral Objection. Chapter Six The Relational Theory of the Atonement: Tentatively Nearing Completion concludes Part I of the book by synthesising the ideas in the previous chapters into a coherent whole. In addition to bringing the full theory into clearer focus, I will explain how it meets the desiderata for a successful theory of the Atonement that I describe in Chapter One. I argue that the Relational Theory of the Atonement deserves to be considered as a serious competitor to the longer-established Western theories. Part II: Other African Theories of the Atonement

Chapter Seven A Personhood Theory of the Atonement develops a theory of the Atonement based on African normative personhood. There are two aspects in which I follow the general structure of Part I. The first is that the sections in this chapter roughly correspond to the order and topics of the chapters in Part I. The second is that I seek to build a Personhood Theory of the Atonement that is structurally similar to my Relational Theory of the Atonement. I thus attempt to modify and reinterpret my theory in light of a personhood ethic. This chapter constitutes an initial model of the Atonement based on personhood, and I hope that proponents of personhood will begin to explore and further develop these ideas. Chapter Eight A Life Force Theory of the Atonement develops a theory of the Atonement which makes use of African moral thought grounded in life force. As with Chapter Seven, I follow the structure found in Part I in two different ways. First, the sections in this chapter follow roughly the same order of the chapters found in Part I. Second, I specifically attempt to develop a series of models and arguments that are structurally similar to the ones found in Part I. Though much more remains to be said, this chapter serves as an initial statement of a theory of the Atonement grounded in a life force ethic. I leave it to proponents of a life force ethic to develop the ideas found here more fully. Chapter Nine Conclusion: Just the Beginning for Comparative Philosophical Theology explains my hope that this book serves as a defence of the desirability of globalising the Anglo-American philosophy of religion and philosophical theology. I hope that the reader has come to appreciate

xviii  Chapter Summaries the benefits of incorporating insights from a non-Western philosophical tradition simply by reading this book. This is so even if they have serious doubts about the Relational Theory of the Atonement. This book constitutes one small step towards globalising discussions of the Atonement, and in turn in globalising philosophical theology, philosophy of religion, and philosophy in general. I look forward to seeing what scholars think of the theory, in addition to witnessing their own efforts to globalise the field.

1 Introduction African Philosophy and the Atonement

1.1 Introduction While the Atonement is a central component of Christianity, perhaps the central component, there is little agreement in the tradition about how it should be understood. Unlike other Christian doctrines, a particular view of the Atonement was not codified by the early church councils. This leaves many important open-ended questions about how to understand the Atonement. The purpose of this book is to construct a novel theory of the Atonement which is inspired by important ideas from contemporary African ethics. Some may doubt whether it is really necessary to add yet another theory of the Atonement to the numerous ones already available. However, I believe that while many of the current theories capture various elements essential to understanding the Atonement, appealing to the African tradition has the potential to shed new light on current understandings of the Atonement. With an incredibly long and rich intellectual tradition behind the Atonement, my claim to offer another theory worthy of serious consideration may appear rather presumptuous. What makes my new theory so special? My theory is at least worth exploring for the simple reason that the Anglo-American philosophy of religion and Western philosophical theology have long been isolated from intellectual developments elsewhere. It thus seems incredibly likely that current theories of the Atonement are missing out on important intellectual insights, particularly those to be found in the global south. Surely some of the ideas in non-Western scholarship could help enhance and improve upon Western understandings of the Atonement. Furthermore, the only way to discover whether I am right that there are missing insights is to actually do the work of applying the ideas from an underrepresented tradition to the Atonement. As far as I am aware, there has been extremely limited interaction between contemporary philosophical theologians working in the Western or ­ Anglo-American traditions and contemporary DOI: 10.4324/9781003412878-1

2 Introduction African philosophy. In  particular, virtually none of the contemporary ­Anglo-American ­philosophical work on the atonement makes use of ideas found in African philosophy. While there is perhaps nothing wrong with this in itself, I believe that discussions of the Atonement would be richer and fuller if they included some philosophical ideas of import from the African continent. In learning about the African philosophical tradition, I have become convinced that any robust theory of the Atonement should make use of key insights from African communitarian ethics. This book represents just one example of how Western scholarship can benefit from considering intellectual traditions found in the global south. This book is first and foremost an exercise in conceptual engineering. By this, I mean that my main goal is to offer a detailed and coherent account of the Atonement that makes significant use of the African philosophical tradition, especially African moral philosophy. Importantly, I am not arguing that the Relational Theory of the Atonement I develop is in fact true. The reason for this is that this book is first and foremost a work of philosophical theology. This subject matter typically uses philosophical tools such as arguments and conceptual analysis in order to investigate theological claims. In her own book on the Atonement, Eleonore Stump explains that: In general, the enterprise of philosophical theology is the ­employment of the techniques and devices of philosophy in analyzing, clarifying, extending, and debating the propositions that are supposed by a ­particular religion to have been revealed as among theology’s starting points or that are taken to be implied by putatively revealed claims. (2018, 5) So, I am explicating a novel theory of the Atonement inspired by contemporary African ethics, but I am not arguing that my theory is in fact true. It’s unclear to me how exactly one could show that a particular theory of the Atonement is true but minimally, it would involve demonstrating the historicity of the biblical narrative, defending one’s interpretation of that narrative, and a detailed comparative analysis between one’s own theory and the competing ones available. Such a project is well beyond the scope of this book, given the already-significant task of developing a new theory of the Atonement. Thus, my primary aim is constructive. 1.2  Comparative Philosophy: What This Book Is and Is Not During my formal philosophical training in the Anglo-American tradition, I came to believe that ‘comparative philosophy’ represented an inferior form of scholarship. A stereotype unfairly predominates which suggests

Introduction  3 that comparative philosophy lacks the rigour, depth, clarity, and the type of precise argumentation that analytic philosophers typically prize. But comparative philosophy does not strictly necessitate that specific positions aren’t taken nor that sophisticated arguments for those positions aren’t offered. Depending on how one defines it, comparative philosophy can simply mean to interact with ideas from disparate philosophical traditions in one’s work, sometimes highlighting important similarities and dissimilarities. Indeed, the work of only comparing and contrasting ideas in divergent traditions might be comparative philosophy in its purest form. That is not what I am doing in this book. Instead, I am drawing on ideas found in two different traditions in order to develop a novel theory. My project is comparative inasmuch as I will sometimes highlight similarities and dissimilarities between the Western and African philosophical traditions. However, given that my main purpose is to develop a novel theory of the Atonement, this book is not comparative philosophy in the purest sense of the form. Finally, for the rest of the book when I say ‘non-Western,’ I am not including the Christian ‘Eastern orthodox’ tradition. Clearly, many Western scholars are familiar with this tradition and interact with it in their work. For example, the satisfaction theory of the Atonement defended by Richard Swinburne is heavily influenced by the Greek-speaking early church fathers (1989). For the sake of simplicity, I include the Eastern Orthodox tradition as ‘Western’ in the rest of the book. In many ways, it might be more helpful to speak of the philosophical and theological traditions in the global north versus the global south, but I fear that may confuse readers even more. In what follows, I will therefore mostly stick to ‘Western,’ ‘Non-Western,’ and ‘African.’ I urge the reader not to get overly worried about these distinctions. No matter how one wants to carve up these traditions (if one is inclined to at all), my general point that I am introducing new ideas into the Anglo-American philosophical literature on the Atonement remains true. 1.3  What Is African Philosophy? For readers primarily trained in the Western or Anglo-American philosophical tradition, it is important to explain what I mean by the term ‘African philosophy.’1 By African philosophy, I refer to ideas salient in indigenous African societies located in the sub-Sahara region. Thaddeus Metz is informative on this point: One theoretically useful way to use the term, and those like it such as ‘Western’: to refer to features that have been salient in a locale over a

4 Introduction substantial amount of time. In general, I use geographical labels to pick out properties that have for a long while been recurrent in a place in a way they have tended not to be elsewhere. (2022, 7) For an idea to be African in this sense, it doesn’t mean that the idea in question can only be found on the African continent. Rather, it means that the idea is common and longstanding. It also does not imply that all Africans have the same beliefs or behave in the same way. This allows for the plausible claim that whether something is African is a matter of degree. While some complain that using the term ‘African’ is derogatory, imperialist, colonial, or wrongly homogenises entire groups of people, notice that “nowadays many people in Africa, including those in the field of philosophy, are happy to label themselves ‘Africans’ and for public purposes” (Metz 2022, 11). The label ‘African’ is therefore useful and morally permissible. While there is a longstanding oral tradition in Africa, professional ­philosophy as it is known today did not emerge on the continent until the 1960s with the decline of colonisation and the rise of literacy rates.2 Since then, indigenous African philosophers have tackled many philosophical problems, particularly in political and moral philosophy, by utilising ideas salient in their culture (e.g., Gyekye 1997; Wiredu 1980; Wiredu and Gyekye 1992). This philosophical literature has primarily been conducted in English and it is to this contemporary literature that I refer to throughout this book when I say ‘African philosophy.’ It is also important to note that I am mostly assuming that the characteristics African philosophers ascribe to peoples on the continent are correct. It would be a socio-scientific project to test whether their various attributions are accurate. Many have noted that there is a surprising amount of agreement amongst indigenous African philosophers about certain shared characteristics and beliefs in indigenous societies across the sub-Sahara and I will take this at face value. Finally, some might wonder why we need the term ‘African philosophy’ at all. In his seminal book, Philosophy and an African Culture, Kwasi Wiredu writes: A department of physics or engineering in an African university is unlikely to be asked to teach African physics or African engineering. What they may legitimately be asked to do is to apply the disciplines to African conditions. African physicists and engineers can be expected to accept with no loss of self-respect that the future in these disciplines for Africans does not lie in trying to create distinctively African sciences, but

Introduction  5 in seeking to master and advance a body of knowledge and ­techniques which has already been developed, and particularly in seeking to apply tried methods to the solution of relevant problems in Africa. The ­sensible African will, in other words, try to develop a particular orientation not in the disciplines themselves but in their application. (1980, 26) Why doesn’t the same thinking apply to ‘African philosophy’? Why are labels such as ‘African’ or ‘Western’ or ‘Anglo-American’ required to describe philosophical traditions in the first place? The answer is that, according to Wiredu, “[i]n physics one can speak of fairly well[-]­established knowledge to be mastered. In philosophy there is no such thing” (1980, 27). Though philosophy can be universal, Wiredu argues that it is in fact often tied to particular cultures, which invites what he calls a ‘nationalistic’ understanding of philosophy. This understanding says that Africans should focus on developing and defending their own philosophical thought as entirely distinct from the Western tradition (which is itself heavily culturally dependent). I agree with Wiredu that philosophy can be universal even if it currently is not universal (see also my Lougheed 2022, 10–12). Furthermore, there may come a day when philosophical knowledge exists in the same way that scientific knowledge does such that phrases like ‘American philosophy’ or ‘Canadian philosophy’ or ‘African philosophy’ make as little sense as ‘African physics.’ However, that day has not yet arrived. Given that philosophy is significantly tied to culture (in ways that perhaps science isn’t, or at least isn’t to the same degree, or isn’t as obviously so), the term ‘African philosophy’ remains useful. There is much more to be said on this topic, but the purpose of this book is not to defend the legitimacy of African philosophy as such. Going forward I will simply assume that it is a useful category, and I will draw upon the body of work produced by contemporary professional philosophers (primarily, though not exclusively) living on the African continent (below the Sahara).3 1.4  Why African Philosophy? At this juncture, the reader might fairly wonder why I am appealing to the African philosophical tradition instead of some other non-Western tradition. What about the philosophical traditions in Latin America or East Asia? If my claim that current understandings of the Atonement in the West are impoverished because they ignore insights from the African philosophical tradition is correct, why isn’t this also the case for other non-Western traditions? Is there not also relevant work to be completed in seeing what can be gained from these other traditions? My answer to this

6 Introduction worry is simply ‘yes,’ a truly global theory of the Atonement should also consider the many other non-Western traditions beyond the African one. Of course, a global theory in itself is not what’s important. The final goal of any inquiry is the truth, and I believe that the more divergent and varied traditions incorporated into inquiry, the more likely it is that the truth will be discovered. My project here, therefore, only partially completes this task in examining what one non-Western tradition can add to current understandings of the Atonement. A more complete study would indeed include more than just the African tradition.4 My reason for only expanding the current philosophical discussion of the Atonement to include the African tradition is almost entirely pragmatic. To include insights from numerous other non-Western traditions would far surpass the space of just one book. Furthermore, it is extremely difficult to become familiar enough with multiple traditions to conduct original research in them, especially when primary texts are written in a variety of different languages. The non-Western philosophical tradition that I am sufficiently acquainted with in order to write this book happens to be the African one. This is not intended as a comment on other nonWestern traditions. Given the difficulty of acquiring expertise across multiple traditions, it’s most plausible to think that globalising philosophical discussions of the Atonement should be a group effort where the cognitive labour is divided across multiple scholars. In light of this discussion, I believe that the worst-case scenario is that the theory I will develop in this book is incomplete since it does not account for possibilities from other non-Western traditions. Still, I hope that this book will prompt Western philosophers and theologians to take African philosophy seriously and that it will also encourage scholars working in other non-Western traditions to take up discussions of the Atonement in particular, and of other topics in philosophical theology and philosophy of religion in general. 1.5 How Do I Know the Relational Theory of the Atonement Is Novel? As stated, my primary aim in this book is constructive. I am not going to interact extensively with the vast literature on the Atonement. In light of this, it can be reasonably asked how I know anything I say is original. What if I am just repeating ideas about the Atonement that have already been made? Indeed, it seems that this objection can be levelled against any new work on a subject like the Atonement that has been the focus of scholars for many centuries. To try to contextualise my own theory in this way would make for an incredibly long book. To spend significant time on the historical and

Introduction  7 contemporary Atonement literature would also make this work far less ­succinct. Furthermore, doing so risks detracting from my main aim of introducing a new theory, particularly to those steeped in the Western ­tradition. More importantly, I would be extremely surprised, to say the least, if the theory I develop in this book can already be found in its entirety in the Western intellectual tradition. That there may be some overlap in certain areas may prove to be inevitable. But the African philosophical tradition is so entirely unique from the Western one that it would be shocking if it had nothing new to bring to current discussions of the Atonement. 1.6  What Is the Basic Problem the Atonement Purports to Solve? A former professor of mine once remarked to me that J.J.C. Smart’s advice to his mentees was to ‘pick a problem and work on it.’5 Indeed, this has become my preferred approach as I find that it is easier to make progress this way than it is to attempt to thoroughly summarise a body of literature on a topic with the hopes of finding something inspirational to say about it along the way. Yet throughout the course of writing this book, it has become painfully clear to me that the specific details of the problem that the Atonement purports to solve are often obscure. Or at the very least, there is no unified and agreed-upon explication of the problem in the Christian tradition. Indeed, an entire book could be devoted just to explaining this problem.6 In order to make this present study manageable, I will state a number of theological assumptions which include a basic understanding of the problem the Atonement is meant to solve. This is consistent with my stated goal of not defending the truth of the Atonement or any other major theological claims. I will call this my Theological Assumption moving forward, and it is modified from Richard Swinburne: God exists and is omniscient, omnipotent, and omnibenevolent. God created the world and continues to actively sustain it. Something went morally wrong with humanity. This means that every person finds it difficult but possible to avoid sin; and although in some way something is wrong with them as a result of the sins of others, they are not guilty for those sins. Sin separates humans from both God and other humans. God became incarnate in Christ in order to fix the problem. Christ redeemed humanity by his suffering and made available to us a means of [reconciliation]; but it is up to us whether we choose to avail ourselves of this redemption and [reconciliation], and God has not predestined how we will choose. However, if we choose to follow the good as we see it, we shall be saved (even if we do not on earth acquire Christian convictions). Although those actions which seek intentionally the glory of God are supremely good, so many other actions (including

8 Introduction many actions of seeking one’s own happiness, mundane or eternal) are good too. In the final analysis all may be saved, and if not, damnation is not eternal and so does not consist in eternal pain. (Modified from Swinburne 1989, 2,3) While the Relational Theory of the Atonement I will develop in this book is consistent with more conservative theological positions (e.g., those that affirm original guilt, predestination, an eternal hell, etc.), I will have the above assumption in mind as I proceed in this book. Swinburne says of humans that ‘something is wrong with them.’ Though many identify ‘atonement’ with Christ’s death itself, I here offer a slight corrective found in Stump. Atonement can be parsed as at-one-ment which means to become one again. It therefore does not necessarily have anything to do with punishment even though that is often what the word brings to mind (Stump 2018, 7). The Atonement is first and foremost about making God and humans one again; it is about reuniting and rectifying a relationship. Stump explains that: ‘Atonement’ is a word that was devised to express the idea that the at onement is a making one of things that were previously not at one, namely, God and human beings. So if the at one ment is the solution to a problem, then, it seems, the problem should be thought of as the absence of unity or oneness between God and human beings. (2018, 15)7 The fall hinders our ability to be close to both other humans and to God. It hurts our ability to live harmoniously with the members of our community, including God (Stump 2018, 16–18). As will be discussed later, ­recognising the original meaning behind the Atonement only serves to make it even more amenable to the African tradition. If the Atonement is primarily about healing a relationship, instead of, say, about punitive punishment, then the African philosophical tradition has much to tell us about it indeed. So, I affirm that Swinburne is correct that the problem with humanity is sin, but I want to emphasise that the cost of sin has more to do with humanity’s inability to be at one with God (and their fellow humans) than to do with some internal feature of humanity that makes them bad. When I begin to explain the Relational Theory of the Atonement in the next chapter, I will have more to say about the problem the Atonement purports to solve. Finally, it is noteworthy that Stump identifies two main ways of understanding the problem the Atonement is meant to solve. According to what Stump calls the Anselmian interpretation, the “[c]hief obstacle to the remedy for human sin lies in something about God” (2018, 21). The problem

Introduction  9 is that sin violates God’s perfection (or justice or honour). Humans owe God something like a moral debt that they can never repay on their own, but that God cannot cancel. This is because doing so would violate God’s perfection perhaps by not taking sin seriously enough (Stump 2018, 21). So, on Anselmian interpretations, the focus is on how Christ’s passion and death pay or satisfy a moral debt. According to Stump: On interpretations of this kind, God is not only perfectly just but also infinitely merciful; and so he brings it about that he himself endures the human penalty, or pays the human debt in full, or makes the requisite penance, by assuming human nature as the incarnate Christ and in that nature enduring the penalty or paying the debt or providing the penance which would otherwise have had to be imposed on or exacted from human beings. (2018, 22) However, Stump believes there are a number of problems with this kind of Anselmian interpretation. On this account, God in no way forgoes what is owed to her with respect to justice since Christ pays the debt in full. But God does not punish the people who are actually guilty which obscures how God’s perfection or justice is satisfied. The penalty for sin is supposed to be permanent separation from God but Christ does not experience ­permanent separation. If Christ has in fact paid the debt, why does someone need faith (or to otherwise accept Christ’s work) in order to gain the benefit of it? (Stump 2018, 23–25). These can be considered b ­ ackward-looking problems because they look back to how the Atonement is s­ uppose do address the sin that already exists. Stump also identifies what might be called forward-looking problems for this interpretation. Even if the problem of past sin and guilt is successfully removed by the Atonement, there is nothing on this interpretation to explain how the sinful will of persons is fixed. It also seems to add to humanity’s shame because a morally perfect and entirely innocent person was tortured to death because of their sin. Finally, even if the passion and death of Christ satisfies humanity’s debt with God, it doesn’t seem to follow that persons who are wronged by others can no longer demand penance from the wrongdoers (Stump 2018, 25–26). Stump refers to the other major understanding of the atonement as the Thomistic interpretation. On this view, the “main obstacle to remedy for human sin lies in human beings themselves” (Stump 2018, 21). Accordingly: For Aquinas, the chief obstacle to human salvation is that a human will does not will the good or even want to will the good. By the objective,

10 Introduction non-relativized standards of God, every human being (except Christ) has a will infected with the radical human tendency toward moral wrong. So human beings do not will what God wills, and the result is distance between human beings and God. (Stump 2018, 23) God’s grace is able to repair human will without violating freewill. Christ’s passion and death restores and repairs our relationship with God (Stump 2018, 23). For “the passion and death of Christ are a solution to the problem of human sinfulness because they are responsible for the grace that heals the human will” (Stump 2018, 23). Yet Stump finds many problems with the Thomistic interpretation too. It doesn’t connect the passion and death of Christ to healing human ­sinfulness in any clear way. While on this interpretation, the human will is transformed and consequently addresses the forward-looking problem, it doesn’t really solve the backward-looking problem of dealing with past sin (Stump 2018, 27). Since for Aquinas there is no debt that must be paid, it is difficult to connect Christ’s passion and death with the healing effects of grace. The further problem with this is that “if Christ’s passion and death are gratuitous, then it is unjust on God’s part to require that Christ suffer and die, since it is unjust to require an innocent person to suffer for a good that could be gotten just as well without the suffering” (Stump 2018, 30), In sum: [W]hereas it appears that the Anselmian kind of interpretation gives a central role in Christ’s passion and death but fails to connect this role in any full and satisfactory way to the solution for human sin, it appears that the Thomistic kind of interpretation highlights the solution for human sin but fails to connect it in any direct and satisfactory way to Christ’s passion and death. (Stump 2018, 31) I don’t believe that these interpretations are necessarily at odds with each other, though they certainly emphasise different things that the Atonement is thought to accomplish. The Relational Theory of the Atonement that I will explicate in this book could be said to fall within both interpretations inasmuch as it seeks to answer both the backward-looking and forwardlooking problems. God is not able to be at one with sinful humans because to be at one with them would violate her perfection (the Anselmian interpretation). I am offering a theory heavily influenced by African moral philosophy in order to demonstrate how Christ’s passion and death solves this problem. However, given the highly communal nature of African communitarianism, my theory also affirms that humans are not able to be at one

Introduction  11 with God because of their sinfulness (the Thomistic interpretation). So, my theory addresses the backward-looking problem of the Atonement (i.e., how our sin separates us from God), and the forward-looking problem (i.e., corrects our propensity to sin).8 1.7  Desiderata for a Successful Theory of the Atonement I cannot hope to give desiderata for a successful theory of the Atonement that includes jointly necessary and sufficient conditions. This would involve writing a book focused much more on the problem the Atonement purports to solve instead of on the solution. Still, I want to offer what I take to be some of the necessary conditions for a successful theory of the Atonement, even if they fail to be jointly sufficient. I believe that any successful theory of the Atonement must include the following: • It must be consistent with my Theological Assumption. • It must be broadly consistent with the Christian tradition, including the Apostles’ Creed and the Nicene Creed. • It must offer a solution to both the backward-looking and forwardlooking problems of sin. • It must explain how torturing and executing an innocent person is morally permissible. • It must account for the intuition that an innocent person cannot, all else being equal, be held responsible for the wrongs of another person. • While it must take seriously the needs of individuals, it must also take seriously (as at least equally important) the needs of the entire community. As stated, I don’t claim that this desiderata for a successful theory of the atonement are complete (indeed, I suspect that it is not). However, I believe that these conditions are necessary for any successful theory and thus constitute a starting point for evaluating any theory of the Atonement. I will demonstrate that my Relational Theory of the Atonement satisfies these conditions. Having said that, significant questions arise for any understanding of the Atonement regarding its interaction with other Christian doctrine, in addition to the biblical data about the Atonement. For example, the gospel narratives describe Jesus, while on the cross, being completely separated from God. But how can this be the case when Jesus was perfect and wholly innocent? Or consider the doctrine of the Trinity. The doctrine implies that God sacrifices herself in order to appease herself. It is simply unclear what role, if any, the Trinity is supposed to play in the Atonement (e.g., Stump 2018, 34). Many in the Christian tradition also believe that it is possible to

12 Introduction attain salvation without direct knowledge of the Atonement. But if this is right, then why is the Atonement necessary at all? (Stump 2018, 34). One may fairly ask why my desiderata does not include that any successful theory of the Atonement must provide adequate answers to the questions just posed, among others. In other words, why not think that any successful theory has to account for other Christian doctrines, the biblical narratives, and as such interact with data far beyond the Creeds and my Theological Assumption. By way of reply, I do not deny that the questions listed above are indeed important. The fullest possible analysis of a successful theory of the Atonement does indeed need to account for the major doctrines of Christianity, in addition to the biblical data. And there will be places in this book where I will comment on some of the additional questions raised. However, my theory construction focuses mostly on the moral questions surrounding the Atonement. My reasons for this are twofold. First, I want to bring African philosophy into dialogue with the Western philosophical theological literature on the Atonement. African moral philosophy, i.e., the most developed branch of African philosophy seems like an obvious place to start. Second, a project of the one I am undertaking here is already large enough. To focus on how my theory interacts in more detail with other Christian doctrines and the biblical narratives is the work of a second volume. For this project to have any chance of getting off the ground (and of having any sort of unity and coherence), I have to start somewhere. And I am starting primarily with the ethics of the Atonement.9 1.8  Who Should Read This Book? The question of who should read this book might seem like it has a rather obvious answer. If it is a work in philosophical theology regarding a Christian doctrine, then Christian philosophers and theologians are those most likely to be interested in it. Before concluding this chapter, however, I want to urge that there are other people who will find items of interest in this book. Remember that I am not arguing for the historicity of any claims about the life, death, and resurrection of Christ. I am also not arguing that my theory of the Atonement is in fact true. Instead, I am developing an African-inspired theory of the Atonement that I believe deserves to be considered alongside longer-standing Western competitors. Those who are unsure about the truth of Christianity or believe that Christianity is false can still profit from this book. Simply imagine a possible world where Christianity is in fact true, and as such discovering the best theory of the Atonement is important. Even if one is disinclined to exercise their modal imagination in this way, there are still many topics in this book that might be of interest in their own right. Consider that anyone interested in ethics will find much

Introduction  13 food for thought in the following pages. Many of the questions about the Atonement are questions about morality. This book includes extensive discussion of themes such as guilt, blame, punishment, and forgiveness. It contains discussion of retribution, consequentialism, and reconciliation as theories of justice. Indeed, the core issues of the Atonement might plausibly be thought to be about the nature and function of justice. Furthermore, anyone with interests in African philosophy, particularly contemporary African moral philosophy will profit from this book too. In the following pages, there is critical commentary on the African normative conception of personhood, life force accounts of morality, and relational understandings of morality. However, I also take the time to introduce enough of African philosophy such that readers entirely unfamiliar with the tradition will be able to follow all of my ideas. Finally, for those interested in non-Western philosophical traditions who are looking for examples of comparative philosophy (broadly construed), this book serves as one such example. In sum, I believe that the scope of this book extends well beyond Christian scholars. 1.9  A Note on the Structure of This Book Before concluding this chapter, it is important to highlight the fact that Part I: A Relational Theory of the Atonement consists of the development of the main theory I want to offer in this book. In Part I, I heavily rely on Thaddeus Metz’s Moral Relational Theory, which represents just one moral theory with an African pedigree. Thus, in Part II: Other African Theories of the Atonement, I show how other major African ethical theories can also be employed to shed light on Western understandings of the Atonement. While the type of conceptual engineering this involves is interesting in itself, Part II is also important in potentially expanding the audience of the book. Though I believe Metz’s Moral Relational Theory is the best moral theory with an African pedigree on offer, it is hardly the only African theory that has the potential to benefit the Western philosophical theological tradition. Thus, those readers who are already familiar with the African tradition but are more inclined to embrace interpretations of African ethics that focus on personhood or life force will find the theories developed in Part II more palatable than my Relational Theory of the Atonement in Part I. For those readers unfamiliar with the African moral tradition, Part II of the book will continue to contribute to my general aim of demonstrating how the African philosophical tradition can help enhance, expand, and bring a fresh perspective to ideas in the Western tradition. The reader should keep three items in mind when they turn to Part II. The first is that the structure of the chapters in this part of the book follows

14 Introduction the general structure of Part I. This means that instead of ­developing f­ull-length chapters on constructive punishment, the death penalty, and the Moral Objection as I do in Part I, I merely develop them as distinct sections all contained within each chapter. I leave it to proponents of personhood and life force to develop the ideas I present in these chapters in more detail. The second is that the chapters in Part II are intended inasmuch as possible to be standalone statements that do not closely depend on the ideas presented in Part I. The reason for this is that I want those who are only interested in personhood or life force to still be able to benefit from this work, particularly if they do not desire to read the development of my preferred theory in Part I. While I still make references to Part I in various places in Part II for the benefit of the reader engaging with the whole book, Chapters Seven and Eight can for the most part be read on their own. The third is that in light of the fact that they are intended to be read on their own, it is inevitable that there will be some repetition between these chapters. 1.10 Conclusion While this book can be understood as a work of comparative philosophy, I am not just commenting on the similarities and dissimilarities between two traditions. Instead, in working across the Western and African philosophical traditions, my aim is to develop a novel theory of the Atonement that can be taken as a genuine competitor to the current alternatives on offer. While a truly global theory of the Atonement would surely include ideas from other non-Western traditions, in this book, I expand the current debate about the Atonement by appealing to the African tradition. This book will be of interest not only to those concerned with the Atonement but also to those with interests in ethics and African philosophy. I am now in a position to develop my theory in Part I: A Relational Theory of the Atonement. Notes 1 Given that at least some Western philosophy is taught at many universities across Africa, among other sociological reasons, I will not explain the term ‘Western’ to those who primarily specialise in African philosophy. 2 By ‘professional philosophy,’ I simply mean in the sense of professional academics working in universities and disseminating their work primarily through peer-reviewed publications. 3 While some readers very likely still have questions about how I am employing the term ‘African,’ this topic is not of central importance to my aims in this book. For more on this topic, see Gyekye 1997, 32–43; Metz 2022, 7–12; Wiredu 1980, 26–36.

Introduction  15 4 When I say that the final goal of inquiry is the truth (or related epistemic good), the reader may be confused because I have also stated that I am not arguing for the truth of a theory in this book. My goal in this book does not deny this is the goal of inquiry. Rather it is just the first stage of setting out a different theory, which must be done carefully before its truth value can be evaluated. 5 Phillip H. Wiebe told me this advice. He wrote a Ph.D. dissertation on confirming evidence from 1970 to 1973 at the University of Adelaide under Smart’s supervision. 6 For one such example see Anderson 2009. 7 Stump takes her cue here from Radzik 2009, 6–8. 8 For critical discussion of Stump’s understanding of the problem, see Murphy 2021, Ch. 9. After raising problems for Stump’s account, Thurow and Strabbing (2020) argue that they could best be solved by reframing it within the Anselmian interpretation. 9 My choice is also pragmatic for reasons other than the ones just mentioned. I am neither a historian nor a theologian nor a biblical scholar and so I am not the best person to assess how well my theory coheres with other Christian doctrine and the biblical narratives. I am optimistic that it does it quite well (or at least comparatively well), but I will not argue for that conclusion here.

References Anderson, Gary A. (2009). Sin: A History. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Gyekye, Kwame. (1997). Tradition and Modernity: Philosophical Reflections on the African Experience. New York: Oxford University Press. Lougheed, Kirk. (2022). Ubuntu and Western Monotheism: An Axiological Investigation. New York: Routledge. Metz, Thaddeus. (2022). A Relational Moral Theory: African Ethics in and beyond the Continent. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Murphy, Mark C. (2021). Divine Holiness & Divine Action. New York: Oxford University Press. Stump, Elenore. (2018). Atonement. New York: Oxford University Press. Swinburne, Richard. (1989). Responsibility and Atonement. New York: Oxford University Press. Thurow, Joshua C. and Jada Twedt Strabbing. (2020). “Entwining Thomistic and Anselmian Interpretations of the Atonement.” Faith and Philosophy 37 (4): 516–535. Wiredu, Kwasi. (1980). Philosophy and an African Culture. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Wiredu, Kwasi. and Kwame Gyekye, eds. (1992). Person and Community. Ghanaian Philosophical Studies 1. Washington, DC: Council for Research in Values and Philosophy.

Part 1

A Relational Theory of the Atonement

2 An Initial Statement of the Relational Theory of the Atonement

2.1 Introduction In this chapter, I offer an initial statement of the Relational Theory of the Atonement. While I believe that my theory should be considered as a legitimate contender amongst the other theories of the Atonement, remember I am not arguing for its truth. Throughout my description of the theory, there will be times when it appears this is just what I’m doing. However, this remains incidental to my main purpose of constructing a theory of the Atonement that makes extensive use of the African moral tradition, showing some of what it has to offer to a global audience. To begin, I describe a moral theory grounded in the African moral ­tradition that is developed and defended by Thaddeus Metz (Section 2.2). This is Metz’s Moral Relational Theory, and it is the theory upon which I build the Relational Theory of the Atonement. Metz’s theory is helpful because it offers unique insights into the relational damage caused by sin (Section 2.3). Appealing to it shows how the death and passion of Christ is a paradigmatic example of a right and virtuous action according to Metz’s theory (Section 2.4). This chapter sets the stage for the more detailed descriptions of various aspects of the theory that I offer in the subsequent chapters in Part I. 2.2  Metz’s Moral Relational Theory My Relational Theory of the Atonement rests on the Relational Moral Theory which has been developed and defended extensively in the work of Thaddeus Metz. His most comprehensive statement is found in his recent book, A Relational Moral Theory: African Ethics in and beyond the Continent (2022).1 As such, I will follow it in explicating his theory in this section. In African moral philosophy, harmonious relationships are often taken to be the highest good that ought to be pursued above all else (see DOI: 10.4324/9781003412878-3

20  A Relational Theory of the Atonement Gbadegesin 1991; Gyekye 2004; Iroegbu 2005; Khoza 2006; Metz 2022, Ch. 6; Murove 2007; Nkondo 2007; Paris 1995; Tutu 1999). What distinguishes Metz’s view from this idea is that he focuses instead on the dignity that results from human’s capacity for harmonious relationships. Part of the motivation for this shift is that Metz believes it avoids objections to the more typical African view that harmonious relationships are the highest good. For example, on the latter position, punishment in the form of placing burdensome labour on someone is wrong if doing so leads to discordant relationships (Metz 2022, 65–66). The same is true of defence of self or other. But Metz argues that there are cases where forcing burdensome labour on someone, in self or other defence, is intuitively permissible. Furthermore, taking harmonious relationships as the highest good could make it permissible to sacrifice an innocent person if doing so would yield a greater degree of harmony for more people and in the long-term (Metz 2022, 101–103). These are consequences that Metz’s dignity-based theory neatly avoids. Finally, Metz believes that focusing on harmonious relationships as the highest value to promote cannot account for various strong impartialist and cosmopolitan intuitions, which again a dignity-based account can accommodate (2022, 103). Many of these ideas will prove to be important in my subsequent development of the Relational Theory of the Atonement. Metz uses friendliness (and sometimes love) as a technical term to represent harmonious ways of relating to the dignity of others. Specifically, friendliness consists of both identifying with others and exhibiting solidarity with others. The cognition of identity involves considering oneself to be a member of a group with others. It involves using ‘we’ language instead of ‘I” language (Metz 2022, 94). The emotion of identity is about feeling a sense of belonging in the presence of others. One takes pride in the accomplishments in others or experiences shame at other’s failures. For one is part of the ‘we’ who has done the good action or bad action. Joint activity is the most fundamental aspect of the volition of identity. This means engaging in cooperative projects with others where the motivation for doing so is not self-interest, but out of a genuine desire to see others realise their own desired ends (Metz 2022, 95). Metz explains: The more of these attitudes that one exemplifies, the more one is relating in a way that identifies with others or, as I shall also sometimes put it, shares a way of life with them. Identity comes in degrees, so that the greater the number of these conditions that one exhibits, the greater the extent to which one is identifying with others. (2022, 95) The opposite of identifying with others is creating division while neither identifying with others nor creating division is perhaps a form of alienation (Metz 2022, 95).

An Initial Statement of the Relational Theory of the Atonement  21 Exhibiting solidarity with others is about service, where the cognitive aspect includes empathising with others (Metz 2022, 95). For “[t]ruly understanding someone involves knowing what moves that person and more generally what makes him tick, even if he does not fully recognize it” (Metz 2022, 96). This type of understanding leads to sympathy which can be understood as emotional solidarity. The volition here involves acting not only to help a person obtain their own self-interests but also their own self-realisation, including a moral being (which is likely more difficult) (Metz 2022, 96). This kind of motivational solidarity entails that “[o]ne is moved by compassion for others, by the thought that they could use one’s help and the feeling of what it would be like to receive it or perhaps not to receive it” (Metz 2022, 96). Solidarity also comes in degrees such that “the more of these conditions that a person exhibits, the more she is in solidarity with others, or […] cares for their quality of life” (Metz 2022, 96). Finally, the opposite of exhibiting solidarity with others is to exhibit ‘ill will,’ while demonstrating neither solidarity nor ill will is indifference which neither helps nor harms others. When taken individually, identity or solidarity on their own can lead to unpalatable consequences. For example, the members of the South African National Party that enforced the apartheid may well have identified with each other in seeking to segregate a society along racial lines. However, they hardly exhibited solidarity with the majority of South Africans with whom they lived (Metz 2022, 98). Solidarity without identity, on the other hand, permits intuitively problematic forms of paternalism. In sum, [i]dentity without solidarity is hard-hearted, while solidarity without identity is intrusive. It is more philosophically plausible and also more African to realize them together, so that a moral agent aims to improve others’ quality of life and to do so in cooperative ways with them. (Metz 2022, 98) While Metz’s theory clearly has an African pedigree, it is unique because “[i]nstead of deeming relationships of identity and solidarity themselves to be a highest good to be promoted, [he] take[s] the capacity to be party to them to have a superlative non-instrumental value and to warrant respectful treatment” (2022, 204). For Metz, harmonious relationships on their own do not have moral status, but rather those that can engage in such relationships have status. I believe that it is fair to characterise Metz’s theory as a modal theory because it is based on what a person can do, not what they in fact do (see also Horsthemke 2015: 85–92; Samuel and Fayemi 2020). The potential for engaging in a harmonious relationship is the result of being able to be the subject and/or object of such a relationship. Accordingly, to be the subject of friendliness involves identifying with and exhibiting solidarity with others. Alternatively, “a being can be an object

22  A Relational Theory of the Atonement of such a relationship insofar as characteristic human beings could think of it as part of a ‘we,’ advance its goals, benefit it, and act for its sake out of sympathy” (Metz 2022, 107). What it means to have the capacity for friendliness is that a being is in principle able to be friendly without changing its nature. For Metz, “the more a being is capable of relating communally, the greater its moral status, where only large differences of degrees count” (2022, 107). One upshot of this idea is that the vast majority of humans have full moral status and indeed the highest status of anything found on earth. Almost all humans can “enjoy a sense of togetherness, participate cooperatively with others, help others, and do so out of sympathetic altruism, and, furthermore, we can do so with them” (Metz 2022, 108). Metz’s theory contrasts with those theories in the Western tradition grounded in the ability to feel pleasure, or to be rational, or to be autonomous. His position is not that we should focus on maximising the amount of friendliness there is at all costs, but instead that we ought to honour or respect ours and others’ capacity for friendliness, whether as subjects or objects. His theory can be stated more precisely in the following principles: Metz’s Moral Relational Theory • An act is right if and only if it respects individuals in virtue of their capacity to be party to harmonious ways of relating. • An act is wrong insofar as it degrades those with the capability of relating communally as subjects or objects. • An action is permissible if it treats beings as special in accordance with their ability to be friendly or to be befriended. • An action is impermissible to the extent that it disrespects beings with the ability to be part of relationships of identity and solidarity (Metz 2022, 110). This completes my summary of Metz’s Moral Relational Theory. Though it is not my purpose to debate the merits of this theory in this book, I briefly mention what I take to be the most promising objection to it. This is the problem of what I call ‘unfriendly counterexamples.’2 According to the theory, it is normally impermissible to act in ways that foster division and discordance against innocent persons. The worry is that there are intuitively permissible types of lifestyles such as homosexual relationships or remaining single and childless that could turn out to be impermissible if the vast majority of a community happens to be against them. In other words, it could be wrong to pursue a way of life that is intuitively permissible if it happens to foster division and ill-will within one’s community. Now, the theory does not devolve into relativism because dignity or rights are guaranteed. However, it does not explain why at least some degree

An Initial Statement of the Relational Theory of the Atonement  23 of unfriendliness isn’t justified as a response to preventing or punishing lifestyles that a community finds unacceptable. One potential response is based on African conceptions of well-being, though I will not develop it here.3 Alternatively, one might respond that this is indeed a challenge to the theory, but that the theory should still be favoured over other normative theories because there are fewer objections to it or that it better explains other key intuitions, etc. 2.3  Sin as Unfriendliness In Section 1.6, I explained that the basic problem the Atonement purports to solve is that there is something morally wrong with humanity. Disharmony is the result of this wrongness, or more carefully, it is the result of sin. Desmond Tutu explains that: It is and has always been God’s intention that we should live in friendship and harmony. That was the point of the story of the Garden of Eden, where there was no bloodshed, not even for religious sacrifice. The lion and the lamb played together and all were vegetarian. Then the primordial harmony that was God’s intention for all God’s creation was shattered and a fundamental brokenness infected the entire creation. Human beings came to be at loggerheads, blaming one another and being at one another’s throats. They were alienated from their Maker. Now they sought to hide from the God who used to stroll with them in the garden. Creation was now ‘red in tooth and claw.’ Where there had been friendship, now we experienced enmity. Humans would crush the serpent’s head before it bruised their heels. This story is the Bible’s way of telling a profound existential truth in the form of highly imaginative poetry. (1999, 212)4 And: Believers say that we might describe most of human history as a quest for that harmony, friendship and peace for which we appear to have been created. The Bible depicts it all as a God-directed campaign to recover that primordial harmony when the lion will again lie with the lamb and they will learn war no more because swords will have been beaten into ploughshares and spears into pruning hooks. (1999, 213) Since the fall, humans are prone to sin, and this causes them to be separated from God because sin is incompatible with God’s justice (or related divine

24  A Relational Theory of the Atonement attribute). Metz’s Moral Relational Theory enables further u ­ nderstanding of the problem of sin in addition to that already highlighted from Tutu. One way of interpreting sin on this view is that it is unfriendliness or unlovingness. Sin degrades a person’s ability to exercise their capacity to be either an object or subject of friendliness. It fosters both ill-will and division instead of promoting harmonious ways of relating. So, sin is unfriendliness and prevents people from relating harmoniously with God, in addition to relating well with their fellow humans. It divides people from the will of God and disrespect’s God’s capacity to relate well to humans. In affirming original sin in Section 1.7, I affirm the human predisposition towards unfriendliness. Humans are naturally inclined towards promoting ill-will and division, and naturally disinclined to exhibit solidarity and identification with others. While each model of the Atonement purports to solve the problem of separation from God, parsing sin using Metz’s Relational Moral Theory helps to shed additional light on the communal dimensions of sin. Sin is not just an individual problem requiring an individualistic solution. Sin is a problem, the consequences of which do not only impact individuals in isolation from each other. Sin hurts the community by impairing communal relations. It’s a relational problem because it hinders each person’s ability to be friendly. And friendliness is a relation that necessarily occurs between two or more parties. If Metz’s Relational Moral Theory is true, sin prevents people from appropriately valuing human’s capacity for friendliness as the highest good. If God should be understood as the being with the highest capacity for friendliness, the problem of sin is plausibly further exacerbated because sin is extremely disrespectful. Finally, the Atonement purports to solve this problem not only for all of humanity, but for all of creation. Tutu observes that Jesus says ‘And when I am lifted up from the earth I shall draw everyone to myself, ’as he hangs from His cross with out-flung arms, thrown out to clasp all, everyone and everything, in a cosmic embrace, so that all, everyone, everything belongs. (1999, 213)5 2.4  A Relational Theory of the Atonement: An Initial Statement I believe that Metz’s Relational Moral Theory is the most systematic and detailed moral theory with an African pedigree currently on offer. His book glides smoothly from discussion of metaethics to normative principles to applied topics in a way not (yet) often done in contemporary African moral philosophy. His familiarity with the Anglo-American moral tradition clearly plays a role in his ability to deliver work to a global audience

An Initial Statement of the Relational Theory of the Atonement  25 (or at least to a Western or Northern audience). Furthermore, I believe that the objections Metz raises to the other African theories in his book are, if not decisive, very serious.6 Defending the claim that Metz’s theory is true is well beyond the scope of this book, but I hope my description of his ideas serves to make the case that his theory deserves to be considered a serious alternative to other African moral theories and also to longer-standing Western moral theories. In the rest of this section, I focus on applying insights from Metz’s Relational Moral Theory to the Atonement. The basic idea is that the earthly ministry, passion, and death of Christ should be understood as a great, if not as the greatest, act of friendship or love. After briefly outlining my theory in this chapter, I will attempt to answer some important ­questions about it in the subsequent ones. Consider first the idea of identifying with others as an act of friendliness as applied to Jesus. Throughout his earthly ministry, Jesus consistently considered himself to be a member of a group of others. He performed many miracles and spent much of his time with social outcasts. Though he did seek out time to be alone (e.g., 40 days in the desert) there seems little doubt that Christ felt a sense of belonging when in the presence of others. Just as importantly, others felt a sense of belonging in his presence. While the 12 disciples were his closest devotees, he had numerous disciples (including women), and was often followed in his travels by large crowds. While these examples have to do with the incarnation, when the focus shifts to the passion and death of Christ more specifically, the presence of friendliness becomes even clearer. Allowing himself to be tortured and executed was clearly not in Christ’s own self-interest. In this sense, Christ’s earthly life and mission is entirely other regarding. Its purpose was to reconcile God with humanity. Christ did not need to be reconciled to God since not only was Christ morally perfect, but this would imply that God somehow needed be reconciled to God. His earthly mission runs completely contrary to creating division or fostering alienation. Indeed, it is striving to remove the division and alienation (i.e., the unfriendliness) that existed between God and humanity. Consider how Christ’s life and death exhibits solidarity with the rest of humanity. A key component of solidarity involves having empathy with others. Here Eleonore Stump’s Marian theory of the atonement is instructive. She presents an illuminating account of how Christ’s solidarity can be understood. On her account, Jesus literally takes all other human psyches within his own while he is on the cross. He takes on all of the pain, suffering, guilt, and evil that plagues humanity. Stump writes that: At one and the same time, Christ mind-reads the mental states found in all the evil human acts human beings have ever committed. Every

26  A Relational Theory of the Atonement vile, shocking, disgusting, revulsive psychic state accompanying every human evil act will be at once, miraculously, in the human psyche of Christ, only off-line, without yielding an evil configuration in either Christ’s intellect or will. In this condition, Christ will have in his psyche a simulacrum of the stains of all the evil ever thought or done, without having any evil acts of his own and without incurring any true stain on the soul. (2018; 164)7 It’s difficult to imagine a better example of emotional solidarity, particularly because this is undertaken voluntarily by Christ. Metz says that a key component of solidarity is helping someone achieve their own selfrealisation. This is just what Christ does through his passion and death. Notice too, that this type of self-realisation is forward-looking in not just dealing with the past sins of humanity; it brings relief from the human sinful disposition towards unfriendliness. What Jesus accomplishes, then, is the very opposite of creating ill will between humanity and God or of showing indifference to the human condition. It is the pinnacle of exemplifying emotional solidarity. The sheer weight of identifying with and exhibiting solidarity with all of humanity’s sin accurately explains the emotional and psychological anguish Christ experienced on the cross. It also explains why the death, if indeed it makes sense to construe it as a punishment, is so gruesome (more on punishment in Chapter Five). All of the murder, rape, and violence among the innumerable other unfriendly acts is taken on by Christ. A normal human could not imagine with perfect accuracy what it is like for the millions (if not billions) of victims of these heinous wrongs. This type of perfect empathy is impossible for any being but God.8 The Relational Theory of the Atonement also nicely accommodates two important initial intuitions. The first connects to Metz’s claim that solidarity and identity come in degrees. That these come in degrees helps to make sense of the idea that, though humans are capable of making significant sacrifices for each other, Christ’s sacrifice is far greater than any normal human sacrifice. His sacrifice saves every human. The second is that since God is the greatest possible being, it follows that God would be able to exhibit the highest possible degree of friendliness. The Atonement is an appropriate candidate for such an act of friendliness. Furthermore, God’s love, often thought to be the central or most important divine attribute can be explained well in terms of exhibiting the maximal degree of friendliness. Here, then, is an initial statement of the Relational Theory of the Atonement: • The life, death, and passion of Christ serves as an ultimate act of friendliness in reconciling humanity to God.

An Initial Statement of the Relational Theory of the Atonement  27 • Christ exhibits the highest levels of solidarity and identification with humanity. • This act of friendliness solves the backward-looking problem in dealing with sin, and also addresses the forward-looking problem in changing the human tendency towards unfriendliness. I believe that the Relational Theory of the Atonement has the potential to shed new light on the nature of the Atonement. When understood as an act of friendliness, the deep degree of solidarity and identity that exemplifies with humanity is emphasised. Finally, notice that Christ ­ this ­application of Metz’s Moral Relational Theory is not subject to the ‘unfriendly counterexamples’ discussed earlier (Section 2.2). For the Atonement is an act that saves the entire human community. It, therefore, does not foster ill will or division in any members of the human community. This concludes my initial statement of my Relational Theory of the Atonement. 2.5 Conclusion This chapter serves as the entry point to my construction of the Relational Theory of the Atonement. Metz’s Moral Relational Theory says that an act is right inasmuch as it is friendly. A person exhibits friendliness through identification with others and by expressing solidarity with others. This relational ethic has the potential to shed new light on the problem of sin by emphasising the relational disharmony sin produces between God and humans. When applied to the Atonement, the passion and death of Christ can be understood as the ultimate act of friendliness in exhibiting extremely high levels of solidarity and identification with humanity. This relational account reconciles humanity to God, thereby solving the backward-looking problem of sin. It also solves the forward-looking problem in removing the human disposition towards unfriendliness. Questions remain. African moral theorists tend to favour reconciliatory approaches to justice that eschew punishment. But the Atonement seems like a clear instance of punishment. I take up questions about reconciliation and punishment in Chapter Three. Even supposing punishment can plausibly be considered part of a properly African theory of the Atonement, the death penalty is almost universally rejected in African moral thought. In Chapter Four, I explore ways of showing that when very specific conditions are met, the permissibility of the death penalty is consistent with Metz’s Relational Moral Theory. But even assuming these questions can be successfully answered, how can an innocent and morally blameless individual in Christ take on the punishment for other humans? In Chapter Five, I present a relational solution to this moral objection to the Relational Theory of the Atonement. Finally, in Chapter Six, I conclude Part I by bringing all

28  A Relational Theory of the Atonement of these ideas together to offer a tentatively complete Relational Theory of the Atonement. Notes 1 Metz has been developing his theory and exploring its application in numerous places for over a decade. For example: Metz 2007, 2014, 2016, 2019. 2 I develop this objection in more detail in Lougheed Unpublished Manuscript. 3 Thanks to Thad Metz for discussion. 4 Below this description Tutu offers a secular understanding of the fallenness and brokenness of the world (1999, 212). 5 Jonathan Rutledge argues that there is scriptural support for group or corporate sin, where such sin is not reducible to sins committed by individual members of the group. This is interesting because if right, it shows that the African communitarian emphasis on the collective might actually be more consistent with the biblical data on sin compared to other Western understandings of it (Rutledge 2022, 99–104). 6 In future work, I plan to develop a secular moral theory based on life force where I will respond to some of Metz’s concerns. Doing so here is well beyond the scope of the project. 7 Zagzebski defends a divine attribute called omnisubjectivity which might serve to explain the mechanism by which this type of empathy is made possible (2008, 2013, 2016). 8 Strictly speaking perhaps this could be managed by a being not fully omniscient or omnipotent. Even so, such a being would have to be far greater than any normal human.

References Gbadegesin, Segun. (1991). African Philosophy: Traditional Yoruba Philosophy and Contemporary African Realties. Bern, Switzerland: Peter Lang Publishing. Gyekye, Kwame. (2004). Beyond Cultures: Ghanaian Philosophical Studies, III. Washington, DC: The Council for Research in Values and Philosophy. Horsthemke, Kai. (2015). Animals and African Ethics. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Iroegbu, Pantaleon. (2005). “Right to Life and the Means to Life: Human Dignity.” In Kpim of Morality Ethics, Iroegbu, Pantaleon and Echekwube, Anthony (eds), Ibadan: Heinemann Educational Books. pp. 446–449. Khoza, Reuel. (2006). “Let Africa Lead: African Transformational Leadership for 21st Century Business.” Johannesburg: Vezubuntu. Metz, Thaddeus. (2007). “Toward an African Moral Theory.” Journal of Political Philosophy 15: 321–41. Revised edition published in Themes, Issues and Problems in African Philosophy Ukpokolo, Isaac (ed), London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2017, pp. 97–119. Metz, Thaddeus. (2014). “African Values and Human Rights as Two Sides of the Same Coin.” African Human Rights Law Journal 14: 306–321. Metz, Thaddeus. (2016). “An African Theory of Social Justice: Relationship as the Ground of Rights, Resources and Recognition.” In Distributive Justice Debates

An Initial Statement of the Relational Theory of the Atonement  29 in Political and Social Thought, Boisen, Camilla and Murray, Matt (eds), Abingdon: Routledge. pp. 171–90. Metz, Thaddeus. (2019). “Reconciliation as the Aim of a Criminal Trial: Ubuntu’s Implications for Sentencing.” Constitutional Court Review 9: 113–134. Metz, Thaddeus. (2022). A Relational Moral Theory: African Ethics in and beyond the Continent. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Murove, Munyaradzi Felix. (2007). “The Shona Ethic of Ukama with Reference to the Immorality of Values.” Mankind Quarterly 48 (2): 179–189. Nkondo, Gessler Muxe. (2007). “Ubuntu as a Public Policy in South Africa: A Conceptual Framework.” International Journal of African Renaissance Studies 2: 88–100. Paris, Peter J. (1995). The Spirituality of African Peoples: The Search for a Common Moral Discourse. Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress. Rutledge, Jonathan. (2022). Forgiveness and Atonement: Christ’s Restorative Sacrifice. New York: Routledge. Samuel, Olusegun and Fayemi, Ademola. (2020). “A Critique of Thaddeus Metz’s Modal Relational Account of Moral Status.” Theoria 67: 28–44. Tutu, Desmond. (1999). No Future without Forgiveness. New York: Random House. Zagzebski, Linda. (2008). “Omnisubjectivity.” In Oxford Studies in Philosophy of Religion, Kvanvig, Jon (ed). New York: Oxford University Press. pp.231–248. Zagzebski, Linda. (2013). Omnisubjectivity: A Defense of a Divine Attribute. Milwaukee, WI: Marquette University Press. Zagzebski, Linda. (2016). “Omnisubjectivity: Why It Is a Divine Attribute.” Nova etvetera 14 (2): 435–450.

3 Reconciliation, Forgiveness, and Constructive Punishment

3.1 Introduction African morality tends to eschew other types of justice in favour of reconciliation, which does not typically include punishment. But the ­ Atonement intuitively appears to be a case of punishment.1 In this c­ hapter, I follow Metz in defending the idea that African versions of justice as reconciliation can plausibly include certain types of constructive punishment. These punishments should be burdensome and compensate the victim, in addition to reforming the character of the wrongdoer (Section 3.2). I also briefly explain why reconciliation is to be preferred to two major Western alternatives as found in Protectionist and Retributive forms of punishment. My explanation of these theories will show that they tend to justify punishments that are intuitively either too lenient or too harsh (Section 3.3). I then explore Metz’s claim that forgiveness is not required for reconciliation (Section 3.4), explaining that even if this is true, forgiveness is still part of any ideal form of reconciliation (Section 3.5). All of this combines to show that the Relational Theory of the Atonement fits with an African conception of reconciliation that is consistent with Metz’s Relational Moral Theory. 3.2  The Problem: African Reconciliation Rejects Punishment An important question for the Relational Theory of the Atonement – indeed for every theory of the atonement – is why the passion and death of Christ are necessary. For now, set aside important questions about the legitimacy of the death penalty (Chapter Four),and questions about the mechanics of how one person can atone for another (Chapter Five). Simply assume that if punishment is required in order for humanity to be saved, then the death penalty is permissible, and Christ is able to act as our substitute in the process of Atonement. The purpose of this chapter is to focus on the naturally prior question which asks why the punishment in the form of DOI: 10.4324/9781003412878-4

Reconciliation, Forgiveness, and Constructive Punishment  31 the Atonement is necessary at all. Consider the claim that the Atonement is necessary in order for humanity to be reconciled to God appears to be at odds with God’s omnipotence. Why can’t God of her own accord just forgive and reconcile herself to humanity?2 The Anselmian answers this question by saying that without appropriate atonement, God’s perfect justice (or some similar attribute) would be impugned (see Stump 2018, 21). The Thomistic approach replies that without atonement, human sinfulness would not be cured (see Stump 2018, 21). However, as I’ll explain below, an African influenced theory of reconciliation involves both the wrongdoer and the victim. It’s impossible for God to reconcile herself to a wrongdoer without certain actions and attitudes freely undertaken by the wrongdoer. So, according to the African understanding of reconciliation I’ll defend here, the reason God can’t reconcile herself to humanity entirely on her own has to do with the nature of reconciliation itself. Complaining that this violates God’s omnipotence is akin to wondering why God can’t square a circle. As I explicate the theory of reconciliation that I have in mind below, these ideas should become clearer to the reader. Different models of justice offer competing views on the purported function of punishment. Retributivists believe that punishment should ­ involve the wrongdoer receiving a penalty equal to that of their victim. Others hold that punishment is meant to act as a deterrent to the wrongdoer and potential wrongdoers. While there is some lip service in Western legal contexts paid to the idea that incarceration is meant to morally reform offenders, there is little evidence that incarceration serves this function. Though debates about the nature of punishment are often held against the backdrop of asking about appropriate punishments from the state, they are still somewhat relevant to my discussion of the Atonement. Furthermore, I suspect that for certain conservative protestant groups (particularly in North America), punishment just is the key aspect of the Atonement. For example, if one is inclined to accept a retributivist position on punishment and adopt what Stump calls the Anselmian approach to the Atonement, then Christ took the punishment that each sinful human deserves (because it is the same or worse than their sins against God) in order to atone for their sins and restore them to a right relationship with God. The punishment had to be severe otherwise God’s perfect justice would be violated. In Chapter Five, I will show how the Relational Theory of the Atonement differs from Penal Substitution, which is the theory that most clearly endorses retributive punishment. Retribution, however, is clearly at odds with the Relational Moral Theory that I am using to ground the Relational Theory of the Atonement. This is because African theories of justice tend to concentrate on reconciliation which typically focuses on a positive outcome for both victims and offenders. If a wrongdoer publicly admits what they did and expresses genuine

32  A Relational Theory of the Atonement remorse, this is often seen as enough to start the process of reconciliation. Punishment is not usually considered a proper part of reconciliation in African thought. Now, on the one hand, this explains why God cannot complete the process of atonement without some earthly intervention. For the wrongdoer has to admit what they did and offer a public apology, and this is what Christ does on behalf of humanity (if only symbolically). As mentioned above, it is no more a limitation on God that an intervention is needed to accomplish reconciliation than it is that God can’t square a circle or make 2+2 = 5. But on the other hand, this African understanding of reconciliation does not explain why the punishment of Christ is necessary. Why couldn’t Christ take the place of humans by simply publicly admitting their sins and offering a sincere apology to God on their behalf? There appears to be a tension, then, between African reconciliation which typically eschews punishment and the passion and death of Christ. The good news here is that the solution to this problem can be found in the work of Metz, who defends an African theory of reconciliation which says that punishment is a necessary condition for genuine reconciliation (forthcoming a; forthcoming b).3 I detail this solution in Section 3.4. 3.3  An Initial Objection: Atonement and Public Disavowal It’s relatively uncontested in the African tradition that a public disavowal needs to include an admission of guilt on the part of the wrongdoer. Desmond Tutu explains a number of reasons why such public acknowledgements are an important part of reconciliation. In the context of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa, Tutu explains that acknowledgement of past wrongs is important because it helps to avoid future wrongs (1999, 32). Furthermore, a failure to acknowledge the crimes of apartheid in a kind of ‘national amnesia’ has the potential to retraumatise victims by denying their experience. Doing so would deny their personhood. An acknowledgement of wrongdoing also sometimes appears to have a therapeutic effect on the victim (Tutu 1999, 34). Thus, the importance of the public aspect of reconciliation cannot be ignored. Before proceeding, it might be tempting to forestall my discussion by noting that since Jesus was perfect, there is no sin he needs to publicly disavow. Likewise, he did not need his character reformed, nor did he have any victims. However, the worry I am addressing in this chapter is not about how Jesus could be the one undertaking reconciliation on behalf of humanity. Whether this type of substitution is possible is the question I address in Chapter Five. In this chapter, I am only focusing on the question of punishment. I am also not going to spend time on the public disavowal condition of reconciliation since it is straightforwardly met by the Atonement. It’s difficult to imagine a disavowal that could be more public. The torture and

Reconciliation, Forgiveness, and Constructive Punishment  33 execution of Christ is one of the most discussed and remembered events in all of human history. It is recorded in the most widely printed and read book on the planet. The biblical text reads that God turns his back on Christ (Mark 15:34). The event is ingrained in the Christian consciousness around the world. It has been the subject of numerous writings and teachings. Images of Jesus on the cross are frequent objects of religious icons and religious artwork. I take it as uncontested that the public disavowal condition is met by the Atonement.4 3.4  Proper Reconciliation Includes Punishment Metz argues that punishment is not only consistent with reconciliation but defends the stronger claim that it is required by it. This claim is initially quite surprising coming from a philosopher who has spent many years developing his own African-based communitarian ethic. But Metz argues that successful reconciliation “consists in burdensome labor that is likely to foster moral reform on the part of wrongdoers and compensate their victims” (forthcoming a). The point of hard treatment on this view is to repair and improve the relationship between the wrongdoer and their victim. Metz observes that “[a] number of Christian intellectuals from South Africa naturally advance conceptions of reconciliation constituted by the presence of forgiveness and absence (or at least peripherality) of punishment” (forthcoming a).5 He also notes that some suggest that punishment is unhelpful to maintain peace in societies where a conflict has just ended (see Gobodo-Madikizela 2010, 134). Metz explains that many scholars outside of the African tradition also reject the notion that punishment can be restorative. According to Metz, the very few who believe that punishment is connected to reconciliation do not seem to think that it is a necessary moral requirement of it. The relationship is instead instrumental where depriving wrongdoers because of their wrongs, and particularly doing so in order to give them the harm they deserve, would have the longterm expected effect of fostering reconciliation, understood in terms of establishing the rule of law, building trust, and the like. (Metz forthcoming a)6 But this is just a pragmatic suggestion based on contingent facts about certain cases of wrongdoing. For example, in South Africa the threat of punishment for crimes against humanity likely would have hindered putting an end to apartheid because it would have motivated whites to hold onto political power in order to avoid punishment for their crimes (Metz forthcoming a).7

34  A Relational Theory of the Atonement Instead of the idea that punishment can be permissible for pragmatic reasons, Metz’s view encompasses the much stronger claim that punishment is a necessary requirement of genuine reconciliation. He explains that his understanding of reconciliation involves: [A] condition consequent to injustice (a) in which those directly affected by it interact on a largely voluntary, transparent, and trustworthy basis for the sake of compossible ends largely oriented towards doing what is expected to be good for one another and (b) in which those associated with victims disavow culpable wrongdoing that had been part of the conflict. (Metz forthcoming a; See also Metz 2011, 2015, 2019) Importantly, Metz says that on his view, “reconciliation prescribes ­burdensome compensation and burdensome rehabilitation as ways of expressing disapproval on the part of the political community, and also, in the best case, remorse on the part of the offender” (forthcoming a). So, in order for a crime to be disavowed, the wrongdoer must be prescribed some form of hardship. While retributive proportionality isn’t necessary, the level of hardship should match the level of wrong. Compensation for a victim does not always involve a wrongdoer being prescribed hard treatment, but disavowal must include such treatment. Metz believes that “[i]f an offender were truly sorry and wanted to demonstrate his guilt, he would be willing to place hardship on himself as a way to display those emotions” (Metz forthcoming a; see also Radzik 2009, 101–103). Since the labour is supposed to foster moral reform, it will not always involve detaining a person. Furthermore, it will never involve detaining a person for the primary and sole purpose of locking them away. Such detention will presumably have to include things such as “mandatory therapy to get to the root of what prompted the mistreatment of others, something that would be time-consuming and psychologically difficult” (Metz forthcoming a). Instead of offering a premise/conclusion standardised argument in support of his thesis, Metz attempts to motivate it by appealing to examples. Consider a student who is caught cheating on a university exam. Metz suggests that the student ought to perform labour that will benefit both the university community and reform the student’s character. This could involve making the student teach first-year university students about why they shouldn’t cheat on exams (Metz forthcoming a). Or imagine someone who is caught burglarising houses in a neighbourhood. Here Metz suggests that: [T]he burglar should wear a uniform and serve as a neighborhoodwatch guard for a time. To be sure, there would be natural concerns

Reconciliation, Forgiveness, and Constructive Punishment  35 of merely giving the burglar an opportunity to detect when people are away from home and so vulnerable to further theft. However, I am inclined to “double-down” on the case: the burglar could wear an ankle ­monitor, and list the labor on his c.v., improving his chances of getting a job as a security guard and reducing his need to engage in further crime. (forthcoming a) Finally, consider the much more difficult case of rape. Metz argues that first, the rapist must sincerely apologise as a way of recognising the importance of the victim. Likewise, the rapist “should be given a way to earn money that could be directed to her [i.e., the victim], or otherwise afforded a way to labor in ways that would benefit her” (forthcoming a). The main purpose is to compensate the victim, but ideally the labour should also be difficult and unpleasant. The rapist ought to have to undergo intense counselling to change his beliefs, first-order desires, second-order desires, etc. This means that [d]etainment of the offender for the sake of producing these kinds of good outcomes would be warranted by a reconciliatory approach, although merely imprisoning probably would not, as doing so would be unlikely to prompt reform, let alone enable compensation. (forthcoming a) While Metz explicates his view with the above examples, he later proceeds to offer two concrete arguments for it. The first is an argument from analogy. Consider that interpersonal reconciliation does not always involve punishment, but it often includes placing significant burdens on wrongdoers. It also involves a recognition of important historical events between the two parties. For “[s]uch mutual awareness is itself a kind of sharing or cohesion, apart from what good it might do in the future” (Metz forthcoming a). This awareness and recognition are more than just remembering. It involves reflecting on why the wrongdoing occurred along with the consequences of it. Such a discussion should include moral concepts, and steps to avoid repeating the offense ought to be taken when appropriate. The degree to which this argument is successful will ultimately depend on how one believes interpersonal conflicts ought to be resolved. The second argument is a theoretical one based on dignity. Metz explains that “[a] dignity-based morality is the natural way to account for the idea that reconciliation should include disavowal of offenders for their offenses” (forthcoming a). On this view, human beings “have a superlative final value that merits being treated as such or with respect” (Metz forthcoming a). Treating people as if they do not have the highest value on the planet degrades their dignity. In this vein, “[f]ailing to disavow a crime

36  A Relational Theory of the Atonement would be another way to expressing the attitude that a human person, namely, the victim, is unimportant, or at least would be a way of failing to express the judgement that she is important” (Metz forthcoming a). According to Metz, the best approach to dignity is to ground it in our relational capacity (i.e., our capacity for friendliness) (forthcoming a; see also Metz 2022). Metz concludes that: If forgiveness is construed as forgoing resentment and related attitudes that characteristically motivate punishment, and if I am correct that a desirable reconciliation includes a certain kind of punishment, then reconciliation does not require forgiveness instead of punishment. Indeed, it follows that reconciliation can forbid forgiveness when it would prevent punishment. (forthcoming a) Though Metz believes that forgiveness might be part of an ideal form of reconciliation, it is not necessary for it. For forgiveness may well be too difficult for institutions to ensure (e.g., the criminal justice system). Consider the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (‘TRC’) in South Africa. Many victims of race crimes during the apartheid were unsatisfied with the lack of ‘justice’ offered by the TRC, which really seems to refer to the lack of punishment (Metz forthcoming b).8 The fact that “torturers and murderers went scot free if they confessed their wrongdoing (they did not even have to express remorse), [is still] a bitter pill to swallow even for those cultures that prize a reconciliatory approach to resolving conflict” (Metz forthcoming b). What resulted from this problem is that the TRC only considered forward-looking reasons with respect to justice, but not backward-looking reasons in forcing wrongdoers to make amends, in part, through hard labour and compensating their victims (Metz forthcoming b).9 Metz believes that while the commission probably had the right forward-looking dimension of reconciliation in focusing on how people could live together in peace and cooperation (at least more so than during the apartheid era), it failed to include appropriate backward-looking reconciliation which would have involved burdensome labour for wrongdoers. This means that “[i]deally South Africa would have had the architects of apartheid undergo heavy burdens that serve the function of improving the livelihoods of black people, rather than get off scot free with their time and booty” (Metz, forthcoming a). For Metz, “[t]he moral cost of the TRC was arguably not a lack of retribution, but a lack of proper reconciliation” (forthcoming a).

Reconciliation, Forgiveness, and Constructive Punishment  37 3.5  Why not Protectionist or Retributive Forms of Punishment? In this section, I draw attention to the fact that Metz identifies serious problems with the two major competitors to reconciliation from the ­ Western tradition as found in protectionist theories and retributivist theories. I hope this will serve to make the above theory a plausible option to the reader, or minimally, demonstrate why it coheres well with the Relational Theory of the Atonement. According to Metz, the main problem with these Western theories of punishment is that the former tends to only care about forward-looking reasons, while the latter only focuses on backward-looking reasons. Notice that Metz’s theory of reconciliation outlined above nicely accounts for both sorts of reasons. Metz tells us that protectionist theories can be located at least as far back as Jeremy Bentham (1830) (forthcoming b).10 On these accounts, penalties imposed on wrongdoers should be done with a focus towards preventing crime. While such penalties will cause unhappiness for wrongdoers, they will prevent even more unhappiness for a significantly larger group of potential victims. Punishing wrongdoers may also make actual victims (and their friends and family) happy. The severity of the penalty is supposed to track whatever maximises happiness and minimises unhappiness (Metz, forthcoming b). Thus, “[o]n this approach, the right penalty on a given occasion is whichever amount and kind would prevent the most crime with the least degree of harm imposed” (Metz, forthcoming b).11 Protectionist theories, however, face significant obstacles not shared by Metz’s theory of reconciliation. For instance, “they are known for entailing that it can be just to punish persons who have not culpably committed any crime when it appears unjust to do so” (Metz, forthcoming b). But on Metz’s reconciliation theory, “there is intuitively no need to reconcile with someone who has not culpably broken a just law. If someone is truly not responsible for having caused or threatened harm to another, then no disavowal and moral reform are warranted” (Metz, forthcoming b). Another problem with protectionist theories is that they are justified in prescribing unduly harsh punishments if doing so makes the greatest number of people happy, in the long run. In principle, it could justify giving the death penalty for traffic offenses. The same applies to the use of defensive force, with some protectionist theorist accepting the legitimacy of the death penalty if executing people would prevent more deaths (Metz forthcoming b). The trouble with this is that it’s difficult to see why torturing torturers or raping rapists would not also be permissible on this view. Metz’s reconciliation theory does not face this worry. It doesn’t license overly harsh penalties in the same way a protectionist theory might. This is because “death and torture are not instances of productive burdens; they

38  A Relational Theory of the Atonement are not forms of favour that would serve the functions of ­compensating victims or reforming offender’s character” (Metz, forthcoming b). Of course, this is an implicit challenge to the idea that the death and passion of Christ could count as a constructive punishment. I address this worry in Chapter Four. Finally, protectionist theories can in principle justify punishments that are intuitively too lenient. For “[b]oth utilitarianism and defensive force theory require minimizing the harm inflicted with punishment, whenever one can prevent no less crime that way than with a greater penalty that is more comparable to the gravity of the crime” (Metz forthcoming b). If one year in prison would prevent a murderer from killing again and deter others from murder, then it would be a sufficient punishment. Furthermore, if literally slapping a murderer on the wrist would have the same effect, then this is the punishment that such theories would require. Worse still, if no penalty would also prevent and deter a murderer from reoffending, then that’s what these theories prescribe. But the reconciliation theory defended by Metz operates on the principle that the more serious the crime, the more severe the penalty should be […] That need not entail a system of proportionate sentencing, but instead is consistent with one that tracks the nature of the crime in the matter of the reconciliatory approach. (Metz forthcoming a) Metz believes that tying the punishment so closely to deterrence and prevention is what leads to problems for protectionist theories. The other main theory of punishment in the Western tradition is retribution. This avoids some of the worries mentioned above for protectionist accounts because instead of focusing on forward-looking reasons, it only considers backward-looking reasons. On retribution theory, [i]f there was a crime culpably done, then there is a moral reason for the state to punish the criminal, and the right penalty is whatever is proportionate to the nature of the crime, where that includes the degree of responsibility for it. (Metz forthcoming b) According to Metz, the most common version of retribution is the desert theory of justice where “state punishment should serve to give offenders what they deserve for having culpably done wrong” (Metz forthcoming b). The more recent fair play theory says that “criminals gain an unfair advantage relative to law-abiding citizens such that state punishment must be imposed to remove it [i.e., to remove the unfair advantage]” (Metz

Reconciliation, Forgiveness, and Constructive Punishment  39 forthcoming b).12 Wrongdoers gain by taking a liberty that most others refrain from taking. The punishment should accord with the degree of liberty taken. Expressivism or censure theory claims that the “state ought to punish offenders so as to convey certain disapproving attitudes or judgements” (Metz forthcoming b). The worse the offense, the stronger the disapproval in the form of punishment (see Hampton 1988; Duff 2011). The punishment does not have to be connected to the future whatsoever in order to be justified (Metz forthcoming b). As with protectionist theories, Metz points out that there are a number of objections to retributivist theories, too. Like their protectionist counterparts, retributivist theories also justify punishments that are intuitively too severe. For example, “there is nothing in the logic of retributivism to forbid maiming offenders who have maimed others, for that would be one way of imposing a proportionate penalty” (Metz forthcoming b). They also do not consider in any way the attitude or character of the offender. Retributive theories appear to justify the same penalty for the same crime regardless of whether it is a first-time offense or the hundredth one. Retributivism is also unable to account for the common intuition that a criminal who is genuinely remorseful for their actions ought to receive at least some leniency (Metz forthcoming b). Finally, “even if it can entail plausible judgements of who should be punished, how much, and in what manner, it offers an incomplete explanation of why state punishment is justified” (Metz forthcoming b). This is because the criminal justice system comes at a huge cost to the state and it’s hard to justify this on retribution theory since it has nothing to do with making things better in the future (Metz forthcoming b). While the purpose of this discussion is not to definitively establish Metz’s theory of reconciliation, the objections mentioned here to protectionist and retributive accounts should go some way towards showing that his theory is a viable alternative. Furthermore, it should be sufficient to show that it is reasonable to appeal to it in explaining the Relational Theory of the Atonement. 3.6  Forgiveness without Reconciliation? In the above section, I explicated Metz’s theory of reconciliation which includes punishment, unlike most other theories of reconciliation with an African pedigree. Indeed, the most important aspects of this type of reconciliation are a public disavowal and burdensome punishment designed to compensate the victim and reform the character of the wrongdoer. While forgiveness is part of any ideal form of reconciliation, if Metz is right that is not necessary for reconciliation, then there is a sense in which forgiveness can come apart from reconciliation. For on Metz’s view, two parties

40  A Relational Theory of the Atonement can be genuinely reconciled to each other without forgiveness. This means that it is not important for me to adjudicate this claim in order for me to appeal to it. For even if Metz is right, it isn’t a problem for my Relational Theory of the Atonement, since it represents an ideal form of reconciliation and would thus include forgiveness. For it is certainly within God’s power to forgive humanity once reconciliation is undertaken, even if the State cannot enforce forgiveness when attempting to facilitate reconciliation between two parties. Stump, however, argues that there are cases where forgiveness and reconciliation come apart in the other direction. Sometimes a victim is so damaged by their wrongdoer that she loses her basic ability to trust. Specifically, she loses “a kind of generalized and unreflective trust that the world is safe enough and human beings are good enough to make her participating in the world compatible with her sanity” (Stump 2018, 97). For certain victims this can make reconciliation in their current conditions impossible, even if they might desire it. Stump even suggests that reconciliation is sometimes morally impermissible even if it is right to desire it. Suppose you discover that your priest, whom you deeply trust and has been your spiritual mentor for many years, has been molesting your daughter. The priest is genuinely repentant and intent on reforming his character. Imagine that you have every reason to believe that he will be trustworthy in the future. Stump argues that it may be wrong if you don’t continue to insist on maintaining your distance from the priest both for your sake and your daughter’s sake. It is important to protect your daughter from feelings of helplessness and vulnerability. Yet according to Stump, this is consistent with wishing for the priest to reform and repent, and for being “glad if there were some day when she and he might meet in any kind of companionship again, even if it is only in the beatific vision in heaven” (Stump 2018, 98). Thus, Stump believes that there are cases where actual forgiveness and hoped for reconciliation is appropriate, even if actual reconciliation is morally impermissible. While Metz urges that reconciliation should be sought even in cases where forgiveness is difficult (or impossible), Stump claims that there are cases where forgiveness is right even if reconciliation is impermissible. One potential worry here is that Metz’s theory of reconciliation (the one which I’ve attached to the Relational Theory of the Atonement) prescribes that the priest and his victim ought to reconcile regardless of whether forgiveness is permissible or possible. The priest needs to make a public disavowal and be given a difficult punishment that will compensate his victim and reform his character. If this happens, then the priest can be reconciled to the woman and her daughter even if they don’t forgive him. Stump’s case could therefore be leveraged to raise a number of questions for the Relational Theory of the Atonement. Is reconciliation prior to forgiveness or vice versa? Is forgiveness a subspecies of reconciliation or vice versa? Or

Reconciliation, Forgiveness, and Constructive Punishment  41 are reconciliation and forgiveness wholly logically independent concepts? With respect to the Atonement, if it’s possible to be forgiven by God without reconciliation, does humanity even need to seek reconciliation with God? Or, if it’s possible to be reconciled to God without forgiveness, does humanity even need to seek forgiveness from God? 3.7  Forgiveness as Part of the Ideal Form of Reconciliation A virtue of the Relational Theory of the Atonement is that I do not need to take a firm stance on these questions. I don’t need to adjudicate debates about whether forgiveness ought to precede reconciliation or vice versa, or whether forgiveness is a subspecies of reconciliation or vice versa, or finally whether they are altogether logically distinct concepts. This is because the Atonement represents the ideal form of reconciliation, which implies that it is not constrained by human limitations. By this I mean that it could well be that in certain cases between humans, a reconciliation that involves the restoration of a previously close relationship is inappropriate because it would be emotionally and psychologically damaging for the victim. But with respect to the Atonement, though every (adult) human is guilty before God, there is no vulnerable victim who needs to be protected from their offender. Though it might make sense to construe God as a victim of humanity’s wrong doing, God doesn’t need to be protected from humans in the same way that the priest’s victim in Stump’s example very reasonably needs protection. There is a sense in which God is hurt by sin because it violates God’s perfection (or related attribute), but God’s psyche cannot be damaged in the same way a human’s can be damaged. God does not need to be protected from the humans who sin against her.13 My basic point that forgiveness is a part of the ideal form of reconciliation, regardless of how it may or may not fit with reconciliation, remains intact. Though forgiveness may be too difficult for the State to pursue, it is one of the most important aspects of understanding the Atonement in terms of reconciliation. For the doctrine of the Atonement represents the ideal version of reconciliation because God’s attitude towards humans does in fact change. The Atonement implies that God’s attitude towards humanity changes such that God lets go of the negative attitude towards humanity. Consider the following biblical passages suggesting God forgets sin: I, I am he who blots out your transgressions for my own sake, and I will not remember your sins. (Isaiah 43:25) Then he adds, I will remember their sins and their lawless deeds no more (Hebrews 10:17)

42  A Relational Theory of the Atonement For I will be merciful toward their iniquities, and I will remember their sins no more. (Hebrews 8:12) And no longer shall each one teach his neighbor and each his brother, saying, ‘Know the Lord, ’for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the Lord. For I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more. (Jeremiah 31:34) Now, since it is logically impossible that God forget anything, I take these verses to imply that it is God’s attitude towards the sinner that changes.14 Importantly, this understanding of the Atonement accounts for both the forward-looking and backward-looking problem of sin. Recall that one of Stump’s concerns with Anselmian approaches to the Atonement is that while they might explain how a person can deal with their past sins, they don’t offer much by way of hope for improving a person’s moral condition moving forward (2018, 27). But notice that the punishment on Metz’s reconciliation theory of justice is constructive in the sense of reforming the wrongdoer’s character, thereby decreasing the likelihood they will commit the same crimes. In this way, the Atonement might be thought to remove the inclination a person has to persist in their sin. According to the Relational Theory of the Atonement, the goal of the Atonement is to reconcile humanity with God. I submit that forgiveness is a necessary component of the ideal form of reconciliation. Whether it is merely a component contained in the concept of reconciliation or an entirely distinct concept is not relevant to the success of the theory. Stump offers reasons to think they are distinct. If they are, then the Relational Theory of the Atonement should be read as requiring both reconciliation and forgiveness, independently of each other. If they are not, then my theory requires reconciliation, a component of which includes forgiveness, at least in ideal cases. Since I am inclined to adopt the latter view as I tend to think that the primary focus of the Atonement is reconciliation, I will continue to write as if forgiveness is a part of the concept of reconciliation. However, nothing about the plausibility of the Relational Theory of the Atonement fundamentally rests on this point and so the reader is free to reinterpret these matters as they see fit. 3.8 Conclusion African theories of reconciliation tend to reject the idea that justice includes punishment, favouring public disavowals and apologies. Metz offers an alternative which still has an African pedigree, arguing that

Reconciliation, Forgiveness, and Constructive Punishment  43 genuine reconciliation includes constructive punishment that compensates the ­victim and reforms the character of the wrongdoer. Notice that this idea fits with Metz’s Moral Relational Theory in focusing on respecting human’s capacity to engage in friendliness. Not only do these ideas have an African pedigree, but they serve as the foundation for explaining why the Relational Theory of the Atonement plausibly includes punishment. Finally, though forgiveness might not be a necessary condition for reconciliation, an ideal form of it would indeed include forgiveness. Since the Atonement is ideal, I do not need to adjudicate the debate over whether forgiveness and reconciliation are entirely distinct concepts or depend upon each other or are such that one is a subspecies of the other, etc. I have successfully shown how constructive punishment can be part of the Relational Theory of the Atonement I am building. Whether the type of death Christ endured can plausibly be construed as constructive punishment is the question I take up in the next chapter. Notes 1 Or so I say. Satisfaction accounts of the Atonement tend to deny this, and instead, claim that Christ’s sacrifice is a free gift meant to restore God’s honour. But if this is right, then it is actually easier to develop to my theory since explaining Christ’s sacrifice as a free gift is less intuitively problematic than explaining it as a punishment. For more discussion of punishment, see Crisp 2020, 19–21, 104–109. 2 Perhaps the assumption that the humans in question are appropriately remorseful is a necessary condition of God forgiving us if God has endowed us with morally significant freedom. 3 The benefit of locating the solution in Metz’s work is that it is presumably more likely to be consistent with his moral relational theory. 4 For more on the cry of dereliction, see McCall 2012. 5 For example, Metz cites de Gruchy 2002: 170, 178–179, 199–205; de Klerk 2010. 6 Metz cites Hamber, Nageng, and O’Malley 2000: 30–32, 37–39; Hamber and Wilson 2002: 48; Murphy 2010: 180–186. 7 Metz cites Hamber and Kelly 2009: 292; see also Villa-Vicencio 2000: 72–73. 8 Metz cites Hamber, Nageng, and O’Malley 2000, 30–32; 37–39; Hamber and Wilson 2002, 48. 9 See also Metz 2019; Balogun, 2018, 46, 311 and Bewaji 2016, 164. 10 See also Braithwaite and Pettit 1990; Smart 1991; Husak 1992; and ShaferLandau 1999. 11 Metz also notes that protection theories be grounded on the basis of human rights (forthcoming b). See Farrell 1990; Murphy 1992; Montague 1995. 12 Metz cites, see Murphy 1979; Sadurski 1985; Davis 1992. 13 There are thorny questions here I am overlooking. For instance, if God is omnipotent, then is it logically possible that God be hurt by anything? The biblical text does sometimes attribute human emotions such as anger or sadness to God in response to human evil. I will not attempt to explicate how this is compatible with the divine attributes.

44  A Relational Theory of the Atonement 14 Some might protest that since God is unchanging, God’s attitudes can’t change. Indeed, some might wonder whether it is even appropriate to ascribe these types of typically human attitudes to God in this way. By way of reply, we are bound by human language and for those who wish they take these statements as metaphors. They are the best that can be done in our descriptions of God even if they are not, strictly speaking, literally true.

References Balogun, Oladele. (2018).African Philosophy: Reflections on Yoruba Metaphysics and Jurisprudence. Lagos: Xcel Publishers. Bentham, Jeremy. (1830). [2015]. The Rationale of Punishment. Spain: Andesite Press Bewaji, John Ayotunde. (2016). The Rule of Law and Governance in Indigenous Yoruba Society. Lanham, MD: Lexington Books. Braithwaite, John and Philip Pettit. (1990). Not Just Deserts. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Crisp, Oliver D. (2020). Approaching the Atonement. Westmont, IL: IVP Academic. deGruchy John W. (2002). Reconciliation: Restoring justice. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press. de Klerk F.W. (2010). “The Need for Forgiveness and Reconciliation.” In In the Balance: South Africans Debate Reconciliation, Du Toit, Fanie and Doxtader, Erik (eds), Johannesburg: Jacana Media. pp. 27–32. Duff, R.A. (2001). Punishment, Communication and Community. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Farrell, Daniel. (1990). “The Justification of Deterrent Violence.” Ethics 100: 301–317. Gobodo-Madikizela P. (2010). “Reconciliation: A call to Reparative Humanism.” In In the Balance: South Africans Debate Reconciliation, Du Toit, Fanie and Doxtader, Erik (eds), Johannesburg: Jacana Media. pp. 133–139. Hamber, B. and Kelly G. (2009). “Beyond Coexistence: Towards a Working Definition of Reconciliation.” In Reconciliation(s), Quinn, Joanna R. (ed), Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press. pp. 286–310. Hamber, B. and Wilson R. (2002). “Symbolic Closure through Memory, Reparation and Revenge in Post-Conflict Societies.” Journal of Human Rights 1: 35–53. Hamber, B., Nageng, D. and O’Malley G. (2000) “’Telling it like it is....’; Understanding the Truth and Reconciliation Commission from the Perspective of Survivors.” Psychology in Society 26: 18–42. Hampton, Jean. (1988). “The Retributive Idea.” In Forgiveness and Mercy, Hampton, Jean and Murphy, Jeffrie (eds), Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. pp. 111–161. Husak, Douglas. (1992). “Why Punish the Deserving?” Nous 26: 447–464. McCall, Thomas H. (2012). Forsaken: The Trinity and the Cross, and Why It Matters. Westmont, IL: IVP Academic. Metz, Thaddeus. (2022). A Relational Moral Theory: African Ethics in and beyond the Continent. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Reconciliation, Forgiveness, and Constructive Punishment  45 Metz, Thaddeus. (forthcoming a). “Why Reconciliation Requires Punishment but Not Forgiveness.” In Conflict Resolution: The Ethics of Forgiveness, Revenge, and Punishment, Scheiter, Krisanna and Satne, Paula (eds), Germany: Springer. Metz, Thaddeus. (forthcoming b). “A Reconciliation Theory of State Punishment: An Alternative to Protection and Retribution.” Royal Institute of Philosophy Supplement. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press Montague, Philip. (1995). Punishment as Societal-Defense. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield. Murphy, Jeffrie. (1979). Retribution, Justice, and Therapy. Dordrecht: D. Reidel Publishing Company. Murphy, Colleen. (2010). A Moral Theory of Political Reconciliation. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Radzik, Linda. (2009). Making Amends: Atonement in Morality, Law, and Politics. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Sadurski, Wojciech (1985).Giving Desert Its Due. Dordrecht: D. Reidel Publishing Company. Shafer-Landau, Russ. (1996). “The Failure of Retributivism.” Philosophical Studies 82: 289–316. Smart, J.C. (1991). “Utilitarianism and Punishment.” Israel Law Review 25: 360–375. Stump, Elenore. (2018). Atonement. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Tutu, Desmond. (1999). No Future without Forgiveness. New York: Random House.

4 The Death Penalty as Constructive Punishment

4.1 Introduction Having shown in the previous chapter that there is a plausible model of reconciliation with an African pedigree that includes constructive punishment, I now turn my attention to examining how the death penalty can possibly be considered a constructive form of punishment. For it appears to be at least initially intuitively obvious that the death penalty is a very unfriendly act (Section 4.2). I argue that the Atonement qualifies as an exception to the general impermissibility of the death penalty for reasons identified by Metz himself (Section 4.3). For those who are unsatisfied by this answer, I further argue that the question of whether execution is permissible can perhaps be avoided by understanding the Atonement as a sacrifice freely undertaken by Christ (Section 4.4). 4.2  The Death Penalty as an Unfriendly Act Suppose that the ideal form of justice is indeed Metz’s version of reconciliation that I described in the previous chapter. This account says that reconciliation ought to include public apology and disavowal, hard labour meant to reform and compensate the victim, and (ideally) forgiveness. If the Atonement is understood as a form of this type of reconciliation, then it is important to understand how the passion of Christ could reasonably be thought to contribute to reconciliation. For on the face of it, execution appears to be a paradigmatic example of unfriendly behaviour that is rejected as immoral by Metz’s Moral Relational Theory. In this section, I seek to spell out this problem in more detail by explaining why someone who endorses Metz’s Moral Relational Theory is likely to reject the death penalty. While the death penalty is almost universally eschewed in African ethics, it is important to acknowledge the (perhaps surprising) fact that a majority of Africans appear to support the death penalty.1

DOI: 10.4324/9781003412878-5

The Death Penalty as Constructive Punishment  47 However, that there is empirical data showing that a majority of Africans favour the death penalty does not indicate their philosophical justifications for ­believing so, if they have such justifications. I therefore deny that this empirical fact can be taken as evidence of what African communitarian ethics prescribes about the death penalty. Indeed, the influential Nigerian philosopher Segun Gbadegesin (1985) shows that while in the 1960s and 1970s a majority of Nigerians supported the death penalty, its expansion actually had an inverse correlation with respect to slowing the rate of crime. During the widening of the application of the death penalty to various crimes, including for armed robbery, there was a corresponding rise in crime (Gbadegesin 1985, 232). Again, this empirical fact says nothing about the permissibility of the death penalty in context of African moral thought. Gbadegesin further speculates that given this inverse correlation, many people favour the death penalty for emotional reasons, instead of principled ones.2 Finally, note that if it turns out that African moral thought actually supports the death penalty, this would only serve to make my task easier in this chapter. I am therefore assuming the more difficult position that there is indeed a challenge here for my theory of the Atonement. Metz’s specific reasons for rejecting the death penalty are made clearer in view of his rejection of typical African justifications for eschewing the death penalty. According to Metz, these justifications tend to share a common problem in being too strong in not only forbidding the death penalty, but also forbidding killing in cases of self or other defence, where such killing seems intuitively permissible (unless one is a wholehearted pacifist) (2010). In order to make his case, Metz surveys the reasons offered by the South African Constitutional Court for rejecting the death penalty in the 1995 landmark case, The State versus T. Makwanyane and M. Mchunu. One rationale against the death penalty offered by the court in this case is based on the idea of unequal treatment (Metz 2010, 86). The death penalty treats certain lives as more valuable than others and “it follows from an ubuntu ethic that capital punishment is degrading since it involves one person treating himself as more valuable than another person” (Metz 2010, 86).3 According to Metz, the problem with this reasoning is that it disallows killing aggressors in cases of self and other defence (Metz 2010, 86). Another reason the court offers against the death penalty is that it denies a second chance to the perpetrator, where an ethic of ubuntu typically rejects vengeance or retribution in favour of bringing about a good outcome. Force may sometimes be permissible but only if it leads to rehabilitation or leaves open the possibility of restoring damaged relationships. But Metz counters that if such possibilities must always be left open, then killing in self or other defence is always impermissible

48  A Relational Theory of the Atonement because it necessarily forecloses any chance of rehabilitation or restoration (Metz 2010, 86–87). Another reason against the death penalty the court offers has to do with the psychological torment involved in death sentences. Being placed on death row causes extremely high levels of anxiety and fear which is presumably degrading to the wrongdoer. But again, Metz observes that in cases of self and other defence, it is difficult to see why causing an aggressor anxiety and fear is always wrong (Metz 2010, 87). The court also put forth the idea that it is the premeditation involved in the death penalty that makes it impermissible on an ubuntu ethic. It is a cold and calculated act of killing, not one committed in a fit of passion. However, Metz shows that there appear to be possible cases where premeditated killing can be necessary in certain cases for self or other defence (Metz 2010, 87). The court’s rationale is too strong in always forbidding premeditated killing. Finally, another reason to reject the death penalty is simply because everyone enjoys an inalienable right to life in virtue of being a biological human. Yet again, if one finds certain cases of self and other defence intuitively plausible, then this justification for rejecting the death penalty cannot be right (Metz 2010, 88). Metz’s own reasons for rejecting the death penalty are based on his conception of human dignity as grounded in human’s capacity for friendliness. Notice that executing offenders and killing aggressors can share many of the same features; they both could involve intentional, even premeditated, killing of a subdued assailant who suffers psychological torment beforehand, which killing is done for the sake of good outcomes such as protection of the innocent, perhaps by means of deterrence. (Metz 2010, 91) The important difference between the death penalty and killing in self or other defence has to do with the identity of individuals saved by the defence. Killing an aggressor when they have wronged others by threatening death (or some comparable harm) is permissible because it directly protects victims. The death penalty never directly protects victims in this way (Metz 2010, 91). Metz explains that “[e]ven if killing an offender turned out to deter other killings, those saved by the killing of the offender would not be those he has put in a situation of facing the prospect of death (or similar injury)” (2010, 91). The goal of killing in self or other defence is the ending of unfriendliness (or disharmony) that can’t be stopped otherwise. However: [T]he adherent to an ethic of respect for friendly relationships can sensibly reject the execution of offenders while accepting the killing of

The Death Penalty as Constructive Punishment  49 aggressors because only aggressors are, by virtue of being killed, being forced to correct their own proportionately unfriendly relationships. Even if capital punishment were to prevent substantial enmity, viz., killings, elsewhere in society by means of deterrence, it would not be essential to protect anyone threatened by the offender’s own proportionate discordance. (Metz 2010, 92) From these considerations Metz derives the following principle: U1: An act is wrong if it involves substantial discord [A]—unless the discord is directed to a discordant agent and is reasonably foreseen as necessary and sufficient to protect those threatened by a proportionate degree of his discordance [B]. (Metz 2010, 92) This principle explains why deadly self and other defence is permissible while the death penalty is forbidden. (A) implies that you cannot use unfriendly means in order to promote friendliness, while (B) implies that you can use unfriendly means in order to stop or prevent unfriendliness (Metz 2010, 93). There are two possible counterexamples to this principle that Metz allows may show the death penalty is permissible in extremely rare cases, if indeed the relevant types of cases are possible at all. The first is that if executing a murderer would bring their victims back to life, then the death penalty might be permissible. For this would be restoring the direct victim of the crime (instead of, for example, just making their friends and family happy). The second is that if executing someone were the only way to stop a future killing that they had a direct hand in planning, then the death penalty might be permissible (Metz 2010, 93). Regarding the role that a dignity grounded in the human capacity for friendliness plays in this account, Metz explains that: The idea that people’s dignity is constituted by their capacity to identify with others and to help them for their sake explains the appeal of U1 well. Killing in other-defense need not degrade the aggressor’s capacity for such friendship, because (and when) only such an action ends the proportionately unfriendly relationship between him and the people threatened by it. However, capital punishment invariably degrades the offender’s capacity for friendship, since execution would not be essential to end the proportionately unfriendly relationship between him and his victims. Hence, the African-inspired and dignity-based moral principle that would forbid the death penalty as degrading but permit killing in other-defense is this:

50  A Relational Theory of the Atonement U2: An act is wrong (at least in part) because it degrades the i­ ndividual’s dignity that she has in virtue of her capacity to engage in harmonious relationships. (Metz 2010, 94) The death penalty is therefore also impermissible because it degrades a person’s dignity. On either U1 or U2, which are both outputs of Metz’s Moral Relational Theory, the death penalty is almost always impermissible. It therefore cannot be considered part of a constructive punishment that could contribute to reconciliation. This constitutes a problem for my Relational Theory of the Atonement since it appeals to Metz’s ethic. 4.3 The Passion and Death of Christ as a Reconciliatory Form of Punishment If Metz’s U1 and/or U2 are true, then the death penalty is (almost always) impermissible. If the passion and death of Christ is (at least in some sense) a punishment, then it is impermissible.4 One way of attempting to weaken this challenge is to say that it points to an internal inconsistency in my account. My Relational Theory of the Atonement rests on Metz’s Moral Relational Theory which, in turn, clearly supports U1 and U2. But U1 and U2 are incompatible with the death penalty. So, if this doesn’t show the Relational Theory of the Atonement is false, it demonstrates that some aspect of it needs to be modified. The problem with this strategy is that it’s difficult to see which part of it could be modified in order to accommodate the death penalty that would then have it still count as a communitarian ethic with a genuinely African pedigree. The impermissibility of the death penalty, then, is a challenge to the Relational Theory of the Atonement. One response to quickly overwhelm this concern is by appealing to the sheer weight of the evil taken on by Christ. He atones for all of humanity. This includes past, present, and future sin. Consider the moral gravity of the situation. The Atonement is meant to account for every single human wrong both large and small. It accounts for not only every petty theft or slander, but every instance of murder and assault. When one reflects on the sheer magnitude of the past and present evil in the world, it’s overwhelming. The physical and emotional suffering of the literally millions upon ­millions of victims is difficult to comprehend. Imagine if only one individual had to bear the burden for all that sin. One might suggest that there is just no alternative to the death penalty. There is no punishment otherwise severe enough to prompt people to reflect seriously enough on their own moral failures. African thinkers who in principle reject the death penalty do not consider cases this extreme; indeed, it is the most extreme case of wrongdoing possible. It is about all wrong doing. However, this

The Death Penalty as Constructive Punishment  51 type of response seems wholly focused on retribution. The magnitude of the evil in question does not affect the reasons mentioned above for rejecting the death penalty. U1 and U2 apply just the same to this type of reasoning. Retributivist or protectionist theorists may well endorse this type of response, but it is unavailable to me. Instead, I have two different responses which show that the passion and death of Christ are permissible according to Metz’s own reasoning. The first, which I outline here, is that the passion and death of Christ meet the criteria which Metz admits constitutes an exception to his general principle showing that the death penalty should be forbidden. The second, which I will explain in the following section, is that there is a distinction between execution and sacrifice. This response says that the death of Christ is best understood as the latter and so does not necessarily meet the normal conditions of a death penalty. The Atonement meets the criteria to serve as a counterexample to U1. If executing someone could bring their murdered victim back to life, then it could be permissible. It would restore the wrong done to the direct victim, instead of only compensating their family and friends. It would protect the direct victim against the discordant act. Likewise, the Atonement also serves as a counterexample to U2, since in some sense this execution brings people back to life and thus restores their capacity to engage in friendliness. Now, there is debate about whether this amounts to a saving from a kind of spiritual death, which is separation from God, or something like eternal suffering in hell or perhaps annihilation. Either way, I think the type of death involved here is relevantly similar (i.e., morally equivalent or even worse), than the mere bodily death Metz has in mind. With respect to U1, God is obviously not a murder victim in the normal way humans sometime suffer this fate. But notice that the key to the permissibility of a discordant act is whether it protects others against a discordant agent to a degree proportionate to that agent’s discordance. What is the specific discord in question here? The consequences of sin are the worst possible consequences if the Christian worldview is true. They are separation from God, the most powerful and loving of persons who only wants the best for humans. Notice that if the consequences of sin weren’t so awful, then the Atonement would not be needed. The very fact that Christianity has the Atonement as a central component is evidence of just how significant the problem of sin is for humanity. The discordant act of executing Jesus is permissible if doing so restores humanity’s separation from God, which is the result of humanity’s discordant behaviour. The passion and crucifixion of Christ therefore meet the conditions for an exception to U1 that Metz’s himself acknowledges, since its very purpose is to restore friendliness between God and humanity (and to enable friendliness between humans).

52  A Relational Theory of the Atonement Regarding U2, it is true that execution does degrade a person’s dignity. However, the crucifixion of Christ restores human’s ability to engage in harmonious relationships both with God and each other. At bottom, this actually recognises the importance of a dignity grounded in the capacity for friendliness. The execution of Christ is about restoring humanity’s capacity for friendliness which has been damaged by sin. On the assumption that Christ can substitute for humans (see Chapter Five), then though executing him does degrade his dignity, it is ultimately about recognising a dignity grounded in relational capacity. On this basis, the Atonement constitutes an exception to U1 and U2. The execution of Christ does not conflict with Metz’s Moral Relational Theory which is what I use to build my Relational Theory of the Atonement. I close this section by again acknowledging that the most pressing objection to what I’ve said here likely involves questions about substitution. Assuming that my justification of the death penalty succeeds, questions about why it is Jesus who is executed remain. Jesus is not a discordant agent. Jesus is not responsible for the fallenness of humanity. Why isn’t this a standard case of sacrificing an innocent person in order to save others? Such cases are typically thought to be impermissible because they violate the basic rights or dignity of the innocent person being sacrificed (with certain types of utilitarianism the notable exceptions). Even worse, this is not a case where an innocent person is executed in order to save other innocents. This is a wholly innocent and morally perfect person being executed to save the guilty. Indeed, the objector may fairly suggest that what I have really shown is that it would be permissible to execute a guilty adult human if doing so would restore God’s ability to relate well to that particular individual (or some other person that the guilty party had directly harmed). Here I refer the reader to Chapter Five where I present my solution to this problem. But on the assumption that Christ can indeed act as our substitute my defence of the death penalty in this section remains intact. 4.4  The Atonement as a Sacrifice While I claim to have established that the passion and death of Christ is consistent with Metz’s Moral Relational Theory, there is an important distinction that I have so far neglected that can also help assuage worries about the death penalty. Notice that in the Christian tradition Christ’s death is sometimes referred to as a sacrifice, typically focusing on the idea that it was undertaken voluntarily, while at other times it focuses more exclusively on trying to justify Christ’s execution, making little of the fact that it was undertaken voluntarily. But the distinction between execution and sacrifice matters, particularly in the context of African philosophy.

The Death Penalty as Constructive Punishment  53 According to Kai Horsthemke, who is generally critical of the i­ mplications of African communitarianism for non-human animals, ­animal sacrifice is problematic because it treats animals as mere means (2015, Chapter 4). Specifically, it treats animals as only instrumentally valuable because in the context of Traditional African Religion such sacrifices are typically intended to repair broken relationships with ancestors and ultimately, with God.5 However, it is not at all clear that animal sacrifices in the African context imply that animals are only instrumentally valuable. For such sacrifices promote the spiritual and moral health of the entire community. In this sense animal sacrifices actually affirm that each member of the community is indeed intrinsically valuable. Edwin Etieyibo explains that “sacrifices are not geared solely toward human interests but the interests of the entire community, which include God, the spirits (nameless dead and ancestors), other animals, and so on” (2017, 158). Furthermore, as I argue elsewhere, to use a thing as a tool does not imply that it is only of instrumental value: Consider that I might use my supervisor as a reference in order to be hired at a job. I’m therefore using my supervisor as a tool in order to achieve a particular end that I desire. But this doesn’t mean that my supervisor’s only value is instrumental. It’s perfectly coherent to maintain that my supervisor’s value is also intrinsic, located within them, and exists simply in virtue of them being a human. This is so even if they can be used instrumentally. This is just one example but consider all the ways in which humans are used instrumentally and frequently even give their consent to be used as such. In many cases none of this is dehumanizing. The same rationale, I submit, can be used to defend the position that the practice of animal sacrifice does not entail that non-human animals lack intrinsic value. (Lougheed 2022, 66) In this quote, my main aim is to demonstrate that Horsthemke’s argument that animal sacrifice entails that animals aren’t intrinsically valuable fails.6 But notice that the same reasoning applies to worries about the impermissibility of human sacrifice. Such sacrifices, on their own, don’t imply anything negative about the value of the person being sacrificed. My reason for this brief foray into animal ethics is to suggest that there is nothing inherently degrading about human sacrifice if it is undertaken voluntarily. It is possible for the person being sacrificed to do so voluntarily (something that may well be impossible with respect to animal sacrifice). This is so even if in many cases of actual sacrifice, consent is lacking. If it is permissible for a person to freely sacrifice themselves in other

54  A Relational Theory of the Atonement contexts in order to help other humans, then there is nothing inherently wrong with a more ritualised human sacrifice. If there were, then it would be ­impermissible to (freely) throw oneself in front of oncoming traffic in order to save another person. But such acts are clearly permissible and do nothing to devalue the person making the sacrifice. Indeed, there are cases where sacrifices of this sort are intuitively supererogatory. Apart from worries about what it implies about the value (or lack thereof) of the person being sacrificed, I believe that part of the disdain towards human sacrifice is twofold. First, sometimes a person is forced to be sacrificed, with infant sacrifice being the most obvious and heinous example that comes to mind. Second, I believe that people tend to think that the reasons for such sacrifices are completely misguided. If a human sacrifice is meant to repair a broken relationship with a departed ancestor (and subsequently to God), but I do not believe that there are such things as departed ancestors or spirits or gods or God, etc., then the practice appears tragically misguided indeed. However, with respect to the first reaction, Christ’s sacrifice is undertaken voluntarily. He could have extricated himself from the torture and execution at any moment. Regarding the second, remember that I am assuming the truth of Christianity in this book (Section 1.6). If humanity is not fallen, God does not exist, Jesus is not God incarnate, etc., then sacrificing himself in order to reconcile God and humanity is absurd. But I am not concerned with the truth claims of Christianity in this book. Shifting the focus to the fact that the passion and death of Christ are a freely undertaken sacrifice helps assuage objections to the impermissibility of the death penalty that are found in African moral thought in general and located in Metz’s work in particular. For doing so shows the way to an alternative understanding which says that perhaps Jesus was sacrificed instead of executed. Jesus was sentenced to death but given he could have avoided his execution, the fact that that he chose to go along with it plausibly makes it more closely resemble a sacrifice. Furthermore, that Jesus was sacrificed does not degrade his dignity or intrinsic value given the ultimate goal of it is reconciliation. Finally, the preceding discussion still understands the sacrifice as a sort of death penalty. But if the sacrifice is freely undertaken and given as a gift, then perhaps it should not really be understood as an instance of the death penalty. If this is right, then it is perhaps even easier to justify the theory I am developing here, though it would require some reconceptualisation. For instance, the communal nature of the Atonement I emphasise would be consistent with understanding it as a free gift. However, I stay with the language of death penalty moving forward because I am operating under the assumption that the Atonement is an instance of punishment. Either way,

The Death Penalty as Constructive Punishment  55 whether the Atonement is best understood as a freely undertaken sacrifice or instance of the death penalty, it is morally permissible. 4.5 Conclusion The death penalty is typically rejected in African moral philosophy. Though it is also rejected by Metz’s moral thought, I argue that the Atonement intuitively meets the criteria for a rare exception that he himself sets out. This is primarily because the Atonement restores humanity’s capacity for friendly relationship with God. Alternatively, Christ’s death can perhaps be understood as a sacrifice, not execution. The permissibility of such sacrifices is well-established in the African tradition and nothing about them implies that the person sacrificed lacks a dignity or intrinsic value. In the next chapter, I address what I consider to be the most difficult part of the Atonement, which I call the Moral Objection. Notes 1 Indeed, as many as 30 countries on the African continent currently permit the death penalty. See Smit 2004 and also Chenwi 2007. 2 For more on capital punishment in Nigeria see Owoade 1988. 3 See (CCRSA 1995: para. 225). 4 It’s also impermissible if one accepts a different interpretation of African ethics such those that focus on life force or personhood. 5 For an excellent introduction to Traditional African Religion, see Mbiti 1975. 6 John Hare argues that animal sacrifices in the Old Testament actually demonstrate the value of the animal in question (2011).

References CONSTITUTIONAL COURT OF the REPUBLIC OF SOUTH AFRICA (CCRSA). (1995) The State versus T Makwanyane and M Mchunu, Case No. CCT/3/94. http://www.saflii.org/ Etieyibo, Edwin. (2017). “Anthropocentrism, African Metaphysical Worldview, and Animal Practices: A Reply to Kai Horsthemeke.” Journal of Animal Ethics 7 (2): 145–162. Gbadegesin, Segun. (1985). “Can there be an Adequate Justification for Capital Punishment?” In Social Justice and Individual Responsibility in the Welfare State, Broekman, Jan M., Jan M. Broekman, Opałek, Kazimierz, Kerimov, Dzhangir Ali-Abbasovich, and Wiesbaden, F. Steiner Verlag (eds), Wiesbaden: Steiern Verlag. pp. 227–233. Hare, John. (2011). “Animal Sacrifices.” In Divine Evil?: The Moral Character of the God of Abraham, Bergmann, Michael, Murray, Michael J. and Rea Michael C. (eds), Oxford: Oxford University Press. pp. 121–149.

56  A Relational Theory of the Atonement Horsthemke, Kai. (2015). Animals and African Ethics. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Lougheed, Kirk. (2022). African Communitarianism and the Misanthropic Argument for Anti-Natalism. Switzerland: Palgrave Macmillan. Mbiti, John. (1975). Introduction to African Religion. New York: Praeger. Metz, Thaddeus. (2010). “Human Dignity, Capital Punishment, and an African Moral Theory: Toward a New Philosophy of Human Rights.” Journal of Human Rights 9: 81–99.

5 The Moral Objection and Divine Relational Rescue

5.1 Introduction The purpose of this chapter is to address what I take to be the most ­challenging problem for the Relational Theory of the Atonement, what I will call ‘the Moral Objection.’ I begin by explaining the problem, which hinges on the idea that it is strongly counterintuitive to hold that an innocent third party can take the blame and punishment for someone else’s wrongdoing (Section 5.2). I then consider how a proponent of penal substitution in William Lane Craig responds to this objection (Section 5.3) and argue that such solutions are unsatisfactory (Section 5.4). After this I offer my own response to the objection which focuses on the relational nature of African communitarian ethics (Section 5.5). I argue that in certain cases, an individual who appropriately feels shame for the actions of a fellow community member can undertake reconciliation on their behalf even if they are not guilty for that community member’s actions. I then use these insights to show how they can apply to the Moral Objection, thereby formulating my Divine Relational Rescue solution (Section 5.6). I conclude by addressing some of the most pressing objections to this proposal (Section 5.7) in addition to showing why my theory is not a version of penal substitution even though it is also susceptible to the Moral Objection (Section 5.8). 5.2 The Moral Objection to the Relational Theory of the Atonement The most difficult aspect of the Relational Theory of the Atonement to explain is also one of the most important parts of the theory. Though not every theory of the Atonement includes the idea that Christ is punished for humanity’s sins, the Relational Theory of the Atonement does include this feature. This means that in one way or another, Christ acts as a substitute for humanity, taking on the relevant constructive punishment for

DOI: 10.4324/9781003412878-6

58  A Relational Theory of the Atonement their sins. Notice that even theories which do not claim Christ takes on punishment must still say something about substitution. For whatever it is that is supposed to be accomplished by Christ’s death, it is done on behalf of humanity. The reason I claim that this is the most difficult part of the Relational Theory of the Atonement to explain is that this type of substitution runs counter to many deeply held intuitions about justice. As I will show in the next section, the problem is particularly easy to identify on penal substitution models of the Atonement because of the legal analogies these models are prone to employ. Suppose that Sally is guilty of murdering Ahmed and a court sentences her to life in prison. I trust that many readers will share the intuition that only Sally can serve her prison sentence. One of Sally’s friends or family members cannot serve the jail sentence on Sally’s behalf. Justice isn’t served if someone else takes the punishment. It is only served if the guilty person takes the punishment.1 This problem is only further exacerbated if details are added to make it closer to the Christian Atonement in saying that Sally is responsible for every human sin, large, small, past, present, and future. Furthermore, imagine that a person who is wholly innocent and blameless is offering to take the blame for Sally (whatever that amounts to with respect to justice). It’s tempting to think that only a barbarous person with a corrupt sense of justice could possibly even consider permitting something like this to happen. Even more shocking is the claim that such a substitution is necessary or preferable or good or somehow best serves the interests of justice. To state this problem more precisely with respect to the Relational Theory of the Atonement, suppose that Sally has murdered Ahmed and now must reconcile herself with Ahmed’s family and close friends. This should include a public disavowal and public apology. It should also include burdensome labour that, where possible that, will compensate the victim and reform Sally’s character such that she will not reoffend. Perhaps a boring and difficult job is prescribed for Sally, and she must give some of her wages to Ahmed’s family, in addition to undergoing intensive counselling. More constructively, maybe Sally should be made to work in victim support services that offer aid to victims and their families. She would see first-hand the type of damage that a serious wrong like murder does to the victim’s friends and family, and this will help to increase the likelihood of genuine remorse and character reform. She could also be paid for this work and required to give some of her wages to Ahmed’s family. Furthermore, if Ahmed would have taken care of his parents as they age or had other dependents, Sally should take on such responsibilities herself either directly or by being responsible for the relevant arrangements. More details could be filled in with respect to Sally’s crime and reconciliatory justice, but the point is that even moving away from the Anglo-American legal tradition, there still

The Moral Objection and Divine Relational Rescue  59 appears something extremely counterintuitive in holding that it would be ­appropriate for someone other than Sally to engage in reconciliation with Ahmed’s family and friends on her behalf. It is Sally who has alienated herself from Ahmed’s family and friends and therefore it is Sally who needs to engage in the reconciliation. Now, in the previous chapter (4.3), I mention that there is something importantly constructive in the idea of stepping back to reflect on the suffering of Christ. Maybe such reflection does go some of the way towards reforming a wrongdoer’s character even if they don’t directly participate in the reconciliation. But is this right? Consider again Sally’s case. Suppose that Moriah offers to take Sally’s place and engage in reconciliation with Ahmed’s family and friends on her behalf. Moriah will work for victim services, give some of her wages to Ahmed’s family, and arrange for his parent’s care as they age. Perhaps witnessing Moriah engage in these activities would indeed cause Sally to feel remorse and determine not to engage in such an act of violence again. But can this process reconcile Sally to Ahmed’s family? I submit that there is at least a prima facie reason to deny that this is possible. If Sally is to be reconciled to Ahmed’s family (or at least make a genuine attempt at it), she is the one who must engage in the labour, offer an apology, work to make amends, etc. It’s difficult to see how Moriah acting as a substitute could preserve a genuine form of reconciliation in this case. Of course, the problem is that by analogy, it’s difficult to see how Christ’s death could serve to reconcile humanity with God. This is only worsened given the degree of wrong in question, in addition to the fact that Christ is wholly blameless. If I am the one who needs to be reconciled to God because of my own sin, then I need to be the one to make an apology, endure burdensome labour, attempt to make amends, etc. How can Christ do this for me? Unless there are relevant dissimilarities between the human-to-human case of Sally and Ahmed and the God to human case, then Christ cannot undertake reconciliation with God on our behalf. If there are no relevant dissimilarities, substitution (in any relevant sense) is impossible, and the Relational Theory of the Atonement is absurd. Christ’s death is in vain. To make matters worse for the Relational Theory of the Atonement, inbuilt in Metz’s Moral Relational Theory are norms about how innocent parties ought to be treated. Consider that one constraint implied by his theory is that negative duties cannot be violated for the sake of fulfilling positive duties. This means that it is generally impermissible to use enmity (i.e., unfriendliness) in order to promote friendliness (Metz 2022, 113). To harm someone for the sake of promoting friendliness in the longterm would be to use them as a mere means, failing to value them for their capacity for friendliness itself (Metz 2022, 113). A doctor therefore

60  A Relational Theory of the Atonement cannot use the unfriendly means of killing an innocent person in order to ­ arvest their organs to save five patients, despite the fact that saving the h five patients is otherwise friendly (Metz 2022, 114). According to Metz, his theory “entails that an individual has a negative right not to be killed that is characteristically stronger than others’ positive rights, even to have their lives saved” (2022, 114). Innocent parties who have not broken negative duties (and have thus not been unfriendly) and who have also met their positive duties (to be friendly) deserve to be treated respectfully. This includes refraining from “act[ing] towards them in very unfriendly ways or with enmity, even when for the sake of a long-term amount of friendliness” (Metz 2022, 114). The only time this type of protection is forfeited is in cases where someone has misused their relational capacity and acted in unfriendly ways (Metz 2022, 115). The problem with this type of justification for treating wrongdoers in unfriendly ways is that when it comes to the Atonement, it simply doesn’t apply. In the analogy, it is not Moriah who has been unfriendly towards Ahmed, and so being unfriendly towards her remains unjustified. Likewise, Jesus is morally perfect and so has not been unfriendly. Metz’s theory very clearly implies that it is wrong to torture and execute Jesus since he perfectly fulfils both his negative and positive duties of friendliness in order to gain the extremely friendly result of humanity’s reconciliation with God. Not only is it intuitively difficult to see how Christ can intercede on humanity’s behalf, but also Metz’s Modal Relational Theory bolsters these intuitions in clearly forbidding treating an innocent third party in the way seemingly implied by the Atonement. This, then, is the Moral Objection to the Relational Theory of the Atonement. 5.3  William Lane Craig’s Penal Substitution It is instructive to observe that the most obvious candidate for a theory of the Atonement that is also susceptible to the Moral Objection is penal substitution because it most clearly includes punishment. Though the purpose of this book is not to interact extensively with the contemporary or historical literature on the Atonement, pausing here to reflect on William Lane Craig’s theory of the Atonement as found in his Atonement and the Death of Christ will be fruitful (2020).2 Doing so will help clarify my own solution to the Moral Objection in the sections to come, in addition to paving the way for the type of future work that could help better situate the Relational Theory of the Atonement within the existing literature. While Craig is known as one of the foremost defenders of penal substitution, it should be noted that in his book, he defends what he calls a ‘multifaceted’ theory of the Atonement. Penal substitution is just one component of the multifaceted theory he defends. Still, it is this aspect of Craig’s theory that

The Moral Objection and Divine Relational Rescue  61 is important for my purposes in addressing the Moral Objection, and as such for the sake of simplicity, I refer to his multifaceted theory as a penal substitution theory for the rest of this chapter. Craig believes that penal substitution is required by the biblical data such that penal substitution, if true, could not be a merely tangential, minor facet of an adequate atonement theory, for it is foundational, as we shall see, to so many other aspects of the atonement, such as satisfaction of divine justice, redemption from sin, and the moral influence of Christ’s example. (2020, 147)3 According to Craig, “[p]enal substitution in a theological context may be defined as the doctrine that God inflicted upon Christ the suffering that we deserved as the punishment for our sins, a result of which we no longer deserve punishment” (2020, 147). He explains that it is an open question whether this implies that Christ was punished by God or just bore the punishment intended for humans. Notice that either way, just as with the Relational Theory of the Atonement, punishment is involved. Craig initially defends penal substitution against two objections. The first is that it is conceptually incoherent (see Murphy 2009), the second is that it is theologically incoherent (see Stump 2018). I will not outline these objections as I believe Craig’s response to them is sufficient (2020, Chapter 9). More importantly, with Craig, I agree that they are not the most common or pressing objections to penal substitution. The problem is instead similar to the Moral Objection that I raise above. Craig asserts that proponents of this sort of objection to penal substitution often fail to develop it into a more robust objection and therefore does so himself for the purposes of refuting it. Here is Craig’s standardisation of the problem: 1 God is perfectly just. 2 If God is perfectly just, He cannot punish an innocent person. 3 Therefore, God cannot punish an innocent person. 4 Christ was an innocent person. 5 Therefore, God cannot punish Christ. 6 If God cannot punish Christ, penal substitution is false (Craig 2020, 174). Craig observes that adopting consequentialism would avoid this type of objection, but believes that the Bible teaches retribution (2020, 175). Alternatively, another initial response is to simply deny that penal substitution requires punishment (Craig 2020, 176). For example, some theorists

62  A Relational Theory of the Atonement say Christ voluntarily took “upon himself the suffering that would have been the punishment for our sins, had it been inflicted on us” (Craig 2020, 176). However, it will likely prove difficult to show how the demands of justice are met if a retributive theory of justice is true, but no punishment is doled out. And Craig believes that the Atonement must be understood in terms of retribution. The next potential response that Craig explores is to offer metaethical contextualisation lacking in his formulation of the objection. He writes that “[an] assessment of (2) requires its contextualization within a metaethical theory about the grounding of objective moral values and duties” (Craig 2020, 177). If Divine Command Theory is true, then God is not subject to any laws of justice. On this view, [t]here is no external law hanging over God to which He must conform. Since God does not issue commands to Himself, He literally has no moral duties to fulfill. He can act in any way consistent with His nature. He does not have the moral duties we have, and He will have unique prerogatives, such as giving and taking human life as He wills. (Craig 2020, 177) And Craig quite clearly affirms that punishing Christ is consistent with God’s nature when he asks, rhetorically, “what could be more consistent with our God’s gracious nature than that He should condescend to take on our frail and fallen humanity and give His life to satisfy the demands of His own justice?” (Craig 2020, 177). Another reply examined by Craig is that the objection “fails to reckon with the fact that the prima facie demands of retributive justice can be outweighed in specific cases by weightier moral considerations, so that punishment in such a case may be justified ultima facie” (Craig 2020, 179). Positive retributivists can claim that offenders ought to be punished in general, while acknowledging that there are specific cases where the requirement for punishment can be overridden. Craig points out that plea bargains are consistent with retribution because they involve giving a lesser sentence to someone in order to punish an offender guilty of a more serious crime (Craig 2020, 179).4 The basic point is that there are cases where the demands of negative retributivism are outweighed (Craig 2020, 180). This means that “even if God’s essential justice includes unqualified negative retributivism, the prima facie demands of negative retributive justice may be overridden in the case of Christ” (Craig 2020, 180). The penal theorist could reasonably claim that the salvation of all of humanity is one such case where overriding the demands of negative justice are clearly justified. Craig insists that “we must not confuse the intrinsic goodness of retribution with the categorical duty to carry out retributive justice on every possible occasion” (Craig 2020, 181).

The Moral Objection and Divine Relational Rescue  63 At this juncture, “it might be asked why, if there are weightier c­ onsiderations prompting God to waive the demands of negative justice in Christ’s case, He did not instead waive the demands of positive retributive justice and offer everyone a general pardon for sin.” (Craig 2020, 181). Craig answers that many early church fathers acknowledge this point but also affirm that there are good reasons for the passion of Christ. Namely, it displays God’s great love for humanity while simultaneously showing God’s hatred of sin (Craig 2020, 181). Alternatively, suppose that the demands of negative retributive justice cannot be overridden and (2) is true (Craig 2020, 182). Also recall that premise (4) of the objection says Christ is innocent. Craig observes that “for penal theorists like the Protestant Reformers, who affirm the imputation of our sins to Christ, there is no question in Christ’s case of God’s punishing the innocent and so violating even the prima facie demands of negative retributive justice” (Craig 2020, 182). Consider that: For Christ in virtue of the imputation of our sins to him was legally guilty before God. Of course, because our sins were merely imputed to Christ and not infused in him, Christ was, as always personally virtuous, a paradigm of compassion, selflessness, purity, and courage, but he was declared legally guilty before God. Therefore, he was legally liable to punishment. (Craig 2020, 182) If humanity’s sins are imputed to Christ, then (4) is false and the objection fails. There are two ways to understand the doctrine of imputation. The first is that the sins (i.e., wrongful acts) are transferred to Christ. The second is that the guilt is transferred to Christ. Mark Murphy’s complaint to both of these understandings is that there is no experience of either type of transfer in human affairs (Craig 2020, 182–183; see Murphy 2009, 285). Craig offers two responses to this objection. First, it doesn’t follow that because there is no experience of imputation in human affairs that it could not occur with respect to the Atonement (2020, 183). Second, Craig offers a detailed analysis of examples of legal fictions and vicarious liability in order to show that humans do in fact have experience of imputation (Craig 2020, 184–193). Craig spends significant time defending the idea that “[b]iblically speaking, the satisfaction of God’s justice primarily takes place, not as Anselm thought, through compensation, but through punishment” (2020, 195). He argues that: If something like penal substitution appears in our justice system, that would lend credibility to the claim that it can be satisfactory of divine justice’s demands. After all, if we are talking about retributive justice

64  A Relational Theory of the Atonement as we know and understand it, then divine justice must be significantly analogous to enlightened human justice systems. (Craig 2020, 198) Craig goes to great lengths to show that penal substitution has sufficiently relevant analogues in human law (Craig 2020, 200–214). Though Craig insists that his analysis is only to provide a response to the objection that penal substitution doesn’t have precedent in human affairs, he often writes as if the human analogues somehow justify penal substitution in the divine case. He concludes that: We should not […] think of our sinful condition primarily on the analogy of the debt owed by a debtor to a creditor nor of God’s forgiveness in terms of remission of a debt; rather, our condition is like that of a condemned criminal before the court and divine forgiveness like a legal pardon, which is not at all incompatible with satisfaction of divine justice as a precondition of a full pardon. (Craig 2020, 214) 5.4  Comments on Craig’s Penal Substitution A number of comments on Craig’s Penal Substitution are in order, the purpose of which is to ultimately help clarify my own solution to the Moral Objection. Regarding the initial solutions mentioned by Craig, it is clear that appealing to consequentialism is also not an option for me. Metz’s Moral Relational Theory is not consequentialist, nor is any other version of African communitarianism (perhaps by definition). Consequentialism is incompatible with the moral theory I’ve used to construct the Relational Theory of the Atonement. Likewise, attempting to avoid the problem by rejecting punishment is not an option for me since to do so would be incompatible with Metz’s theory of reconciliation. Remember that a key component of this theory is that it prescribes constructive punishment to offenders. This says nothing of the fact that failing to include punishment might be inconsistent with the biblical data on the Atonement, in addition to much of what the early Church fathers write about it. It also appears that appealing to Divine Command Theory is not a plausible route I can take either. Notice that in his section on Divine Command Theory, Craig says, “He (i.e., God) can act in any way consistent with His nature” (Craig 2020, 177). Part of the problem in appealing to Divine Command Theory in this way is that it doesn’t actually solve the Moral Objection as applied to penal substitution. For the objection can simply be reformulated to suggest that punishing an innocent person is incompatible with God’s nature. One therefore need not appeal to abstract laws of justice

The Moral Objection and Divine Relational Rescue  65 that may or may not be grounded in God in order to get this o ­ bjection off the ground. My point here is just that even if I accepted Divine Command Theory and were willing to employ it in a solution, it would not help me to solve the Moral Objection. Craig’s suggestion that the prima facie demands of justice which say that it is immoral to punish an innocent person can be outweighed and hence ultima facie justified by the great good of saving humanity from death and separation from God is, though perhaps the most plausible response he examines, still not without its problems. In focusing on the moral weight of different goods (retributive justice versus saving humanity), this appears to amount to a tacit appeal to consequentialism. Recall that the line of reasoning here is that punishing Christ for humanity’s sin is prima facie unjustified because each person deserves to be punished for their own sins. But this can be outweighed by the great moral good of saving all of humanity. I fail to see how this isn’t a standard appeal to justifying an action on the basis that it maximises some good outcome for the greatest number of people. In light of this, I am also unable to understand how it isn’t susceptible to the standard problems that plague certain types of consequentialism such as the fact that it seems to justify punishing an innocent person in order to save many people, enslaving a small number of people to increase the wellbeing of many, harvesting the organ of one person to save five, etc. If I am right about this, then this is not a solution I can avail myself of given that African communitarianism is incompatible with consequentialism. On the one hand, the imputation of sins nicely solves the Moral Objection. However, it appears to me to do so by means of mere stipulation, if it is not plainly ad hoc. As Craig explains, imputation was an invention (or more charitably, a discovery), of the Reformers. But that it neatly answers the Moral Objection is not a reason to think it is in fact true. I see little basis for this doctrine in the Bible, nor in the early Church Fathers (though I am no expert on such matters and happy to be told otherwise by an astute reader).5 Furthermore, on the other hand, I can see the makings of an argument which denies that imputation really does solve the Moral Objection. The doctrine of imputation would have us believe that Christ was punished for the sins of humanity because the sins of humanity are transferred to him and/or because the guilt of humanity is transferred to him. But then it’s possible to ask the more basic question of what precisely justifies the transfer in the first place? Answering this question leads back to the initial problem as the same sort of justification is needed whether for transfer or for punishment. There is thus a real possibility that nothing is solved by imputation, at least as the doctrine is described by Craig. While Craig helpfully walks the reader through multiple ways out of the Moral Objection that are potentially available to the proponent of penal substitution, it is often unclear to the reader which of the solutions (if any)

66  A Relational Theory of the Atonement that he himself prefers. This matters since not all of the possible s­ olutions are compatible with one another nor compatible with certain commitments of Craig. Consider that it is doubtful that Craig would accept a model of penal substitution that does not include punishment, especially given his interpretation of the relevant biblical data, etc. So far as it goes, it can sometimes be helpful to outline possible options for readers, even if the author does not avail themselves of any of them. However, it would be beneficial to know which of the options, if any, Craig himself finds acceptable. In sum, however, there are reasons to reject each of the proposed solutions, regardless of whether Craig himself endorses any of them. Finally, as part of his explanation regarding the possible solutions to the Moral Objection, it is striking that Craig claims that “[t]heories of justice may be classified as broadly retributive or consequentialist” (2020, 174). This is striking because while I’m sceptical that this binary would even reasonably encompass all of the theories of justice in the Anglo-American tradition, it is plainly false when considering global theories of justice. African theories of reconciliation do not fit neatly into either of these categories. Even though the type of approach to reconciliation found in the work of Metz includes constructive punishment, the justification for it is neither retributive nor consequentialist. If Craig really believes that retribution and consequentialism are the only two possible types of justice, it is unsurprising he lands on a theory of the Atonement favouring retribution.6 One option Craig never considers is an account of penal substitution without retribution. This is precisely the model that Jonathan Rutledge develops in Chapter Six of his book, Forgiveness and Atonement: Christ’s Restorative Sacrifice (2022).7 Rutledge claims that the most plausible model of penal substitution is one where punishment is not justified by retribution but instead is justified by “a communal one undergirded by a restorative rationale for the moral permissibility of punishment” (Rutledge 2022, 137).8 Part of the reason why Rutledge seeks to motivate a non-retributive version of penal substitution is because he believes deterrent and protectionist justifications are difficult to apply to the Atonement.9 Regarding the former, when applied to the Atonement, the punishment for sin (i.e., death and separation from God), appears to have been incredibly ineffective. It also “seems to undermine the intelligibility for beginning with a punishment of human persons and only later substituting Christ’s death as a punishment” (Rutledge 2022, 143). Furthermore, God would necessarily prescribe the most effective deterrent on this model, but what occurs seems to have been very ineffective. With respect to the latter, Rutledge says that “[a]pplying such a protection-based rationale to Christ’s punishment is difficult, especially since protection-based punishments are most commonly

The Moral Objection and Divine Relational Rescue  67 offering protection from the person punished” (2022, 144). No one needs protection from Christ. Rutledge instead advocates for a model of penal substitution underpinned by restorative justice. On this view, “God’s reason for appropriating such natural consequences as punishment for sin [...] is a restorative one” (Rutledge 2022, 146). Christ’s punishment can be a legitimate substitute, provided it is at least as effective as other means of bringing about full human flourishing (i.e., deliverance from death and separation from God). Rutledge writes that it is also “psychologically possible, even plausible, that many of us are more motivated to change our behavior when we see someone else voluntarily bearing punishment for a failure to which we contributed” (2022, 152).10 The ultimate purpose behind this substitution and punishment is restorative.11 5.5  Relational Shame and Punishment In motivating the Moral Objection in Section 5.2, I attempt to solicit the intuition that it’s implausible to think Moriah can successfully act as a substitute on Sally’s behalf in order to reconcile Sally to Ahmed’s community. The key problem is that it not only appears immoral but also impossible for Moriah to take the blame for a wrong she didn’t commit, especially when there is an identifiable guilty party to be found in Sally. However, I submit that part of the reason this type of intercession appears to be so morally problematic is the result of Western hyper-individualism. When viewed through the lens of African communitarianism, this type of intercession begins to look more plausible. The intuitions I sought to generate in Section 5.2, then, are not universalisable. I believe that the more open one is to thinking about morality in communal terms, the less the Moral Objection really is a problem. Notice that this solution is not one available to the proponent of penal substitution as defined by Craig.12 The three main interpretations of African communitarianism are those based on normative personhood (see Chapter Seven), life force or liveliness (see Chapter Eight), and harmonious relationships (see Chapter Two). On each of these accounts, there is less emphasis on the distinction between individuals and the community. On personhood accounts of morality, it is impossible to develop one’s personhood (or character), which is the goal of morality, outside of the context of one’s community. A community of people are required in order to make sense of morality on this view. On life force accounts, the goal of morality is to preserve and promote the life force or vitality in oneself but especially in others. One’s own life force cannot be protected and increased apart from caring about the life force of others. Finally, on Metz’s Relational Moral Theory, the rightness and

68  A Relational Theory of the Atonement wrongness of acts are grounded in how well they tend to promote identifying with others and exhibiting solidarity with others. Again, the community is foundational here. Some have accused African moral thought of denying that the individual and community are distinct entities. For example, the story of the crocodile with two heads pulling in different directions when it really shares one stomach purports to show that individual needs and goals do not differ from the community’s needs and goals. Indeed, one sometimes has the sense that in African moral thought, individual needs or goals cannot come apart from communal needs or goals. I believe this is implausible. For instance, part of the reason Motsamai Molefe rejects the idea that the community is necessary for developing normative personhood (i.e., other regarding character traits) is because he recognises that an individual can have worthy aspirations that do not have anything obvious to do with their community: Consider this example: suppose one can either pay for their own educational fees or they can use money to advance themselves educationally (this example must be imagined in the context of a trade-off) […] On the communal view […] the most important consideration is the interpersonal relationship itself, which constitutes personhood. The focus of the communal view is not on the agent herself, in the first place, but the communal relationships that constitute personhood. If both the agent and the other require education, it is difficult to see how the agent should resolve this tension on the communal view. (2018, 60) This example puts pressure on the idea that the community takes primacy over the individual or that the community can entirely subsume an individual’s unique interests. However, while my proposed solution to the Moral Objection is more communal in nature than most Western outlooks, I do not need to adjudicate this debate about individual versus communal interests in African ethics. My solution is compatible with many different understandings of African communitarianism, including those that fall on both sides of the debate about individual versus communal interests and goals. Instead, my relational solution relies on the claim that community members are tied together such that it makes little sense to consider an individual to be flourishing if other members of their community are not also flourishing (e.g., Oruka and Juma 1994). This is consistent with individuals within the same community having different interests and goals. With this idea about flourishing in mind, intuitions about the Sally and Moriah case are transformed. Sally’s great moral failure in murdering Ahmed is

The Moral Objection and Divine Relational Rescue  69 not one that occurs in isolation from her wider community. Recall what Metz  says  about identifying with the failures and accomplishments of others: [E]motionally identifying with others can mean taking pride in, or conversely feeling embarrassed about, what another person in one’s ‘we’ has done. Even if one is not responsible for an accomplishment or a failure, if one identifies with others who are, then one’s emotions will tend to be invested in what they have done. For example, family members will feel ashamed, often to the point of making an apology, when one of their own behaves wickedly. (2022, 94) Many Westerners will perhaps be able to relate to feelings of shame or pride when it comes to their immediate family unit, especially regarding how parents relate to their children. If someone’s child becomes a star athlete, creative musician, or effective cancer researcher, it is appropriate for the parent to have feelings of pride over their child’s accomplishments. Alternatively, if someone’s son becomes a serial killer, it is appropriate for them to feel shame over the actions of their child. In African moral thought, while the community starts with one’s immediate family, it extends far beyond it, including not only one’s extended family, but also one’s wider community of friends and associates too. If Moriah is part of Sally’s community, it is appropriate that Moriah has feelings of shame over Sally’s crime. Now, notice that Metz says that feelings of shame can be appropriate even if one is not responsible for the wrong in question. So, if Moriah isn’t responsible for Sally’s crime, she is still justified in feeling shame over it. But how can she take the blame for it? I believe that the reason is because Moriah identifies with Sally and also feels empathy towards Ahmed’s family and friends, desiring to exhibit solidarity with them. Moriah is therefore able to undertake the constructive punishment on behalf of Sally, provided she does so voluntarily. In the next section I will show how through analogous reasoning, Christ can be thought to undertake the constructive ­punishment on behalf of humanity even though he is not guilty for anyone’s sin. But suppose that I am wrong, and feelings of shame do in fact imply responsibility such that Moriah is in fact (partially) responsible for Sally’s crime in virtue of being in communal relationship with her. Perhaps Moriah did not do enough to foster friendliness in Sally. Or perhaps she exhibited unfriendliness towards Sally, prompting Sally to become withdrawn or angry. Though Sally is primarily responsible for murdering Ahmed, in this case, it could make sense to attribute partial responsibility to Moriah.

70  A Relational Theory of the Atonement There is no tension here if moral responsibility comes in degrees and can be shared across persons. Of course, one possible advantage of this view is that it can provide a model for how Jesus can be thought to be morally responsible for the sins of humanity. Indeed, perhaps this is a way to justify something morally equivalent to the Reformer’s imputation of sin. For through the incarnation Jesus is part of the human community. And yet, there still appears something wrong with saying that Jesus is responsible and hence guilty for the sins of humanity, even if only indirectly and in virtue of his membership in the human race. I therefore doubt that attaching responsibility to feelings of shame in this way is a plausible route to solving the Moral Objection. Consider that not only is attributing responsibility in this way a problem, given the moral perfection of Christ, but similar worries can also apply to the case of Moriah and Sally if the details are changed. Suppose that Moriah has not been unfriendly towards Sally. Instead, imagine that Moriah has only ever been friendly towards Sally, always making personal sacrifices in order to support Sally in achieving her goals. Though Sally and Moriah are part of the same community, in this scenario, it is implausible to attribute even partial moral responsibility to Moriah. Alternatively, consider that some children with very loving and supportive parents still end up committing great evil as adults. Though there may well be cases where partial responsibility is appropriate, my point is that it is not always appropriate. And it is certainly not fitting in the case of Christ. On the model I am working with, then, appropriate feelings of shame can come apart from moral responsibility. However, the type of relational solution I am offering in response to the Moral Objection here does not require blame or guilt (i.e., moral responsibility) to be transferred to the interceding innocent party. The kind of shame Moriah feels for Sally’s action is what I call relational shame. The sort of transfer of guilt I describe and reject above might be called relational guilt. Finally, when Moriah takes the constructive punishment for Sally, this is what I call relational punishment. Here is the key to my solution: I fail to identify a principled way to determine why making an apology on someone’s behalf is acceptable because of relational shame, while undertaking a constructive punishment on behalf of that same person is unacceptable. If Moriah so closely identifies with Sally that she can apologise for Sally’s crime, then she can also undertake the constructive punishment for her if she also desires to express solidarity with Sally’s victims. She can do so even if she is not morally responsible for Sally’s crime, provided she acts voluntarily. If the reader remains sceptical about my claim that it’s possible to feel shame and take on constructive punishment on behalf of a wrongdoer

The Moral Objection and Divine Relational Rescue  71 while not being morally responsible for the wrong, consider the f­ ollowing real-life example. During the 19th and 20th centuries, the Canadian government (in conjunction with the Roman Catholic Church) ran residential schools for indigenous children. In many cases, the children were forcibly removed from their homes and made to attend these boarding schools. It seems that much of the goals of such schools was to eradicate indigenous culture and ‘Christianize’ or ‘Westernize’ the children. For example, it is widely reported that children were physically beaten if they spoke to each other in their indigenous mother tongue. Physical, sexual, and psychological abuse perpetrated by those running the schools is extensively reported by survivors. Many children never returned home. In 2021, Canada made international news headlines as radar technology was used to locate hundreds, if not thousands (the precise number remains unclear) of bodies of children buried on the grounds of former residential schools.13 Though I wasn’t alive for almost the entirety of the Residential school programme in Canada (i.e., I was approximately ten years old when the last school closed in the mid-1990s) and so am not morally responsible for it, I am ashamed by it. This shame can be explained by the fact that my identity is Canadian. I also wish, no matter how imperfectly, to somehow express solidarity with the victims of residential schools (including those who were not forced to attend but are impacted by the intergenerational trauma caused by the schools). It’s permissible for me to voluntarily make a public apology and disavowal of the residential school system in Canada even though I am not morally responsible for it. It is also appropriate for me to voluntarily undertake a constructive punishment if such a punishment is possible in this case. Consider that many think it fitting for politicians and clergy to apologise for their organisation’s role in residential schools, even though in almost all of such cases, the politicians and clergy in question are not responsible for instituting and running the schools. Again, this can be explained by the fact that they closely identify with the community (i.e., the Canadian government or Catholic church) who is responsible for the wrong. Finally, it is also fitting that politicians and clergy undertake constructive forms of punishment. The analogy is admittedly not perfect when considering appropriately constructive punishments for an individual as opposed to an organisation. But consider that some victims of the residential school system have received financial compensation from the Canadian government. This compensation comes from taxpayers, many of whom (like me) are not morally responsible for residential schools. If this example is off-putting because it is about the acts of a group instead of an individual, just imagine being ashamed of the racist attitudes and actions of a grandparent.

72  A Relational Theory of the Atonement Remember that while constructive punishment needs to make it likely that the wrongdoer’s character will be reformed, it need not guarantee it. In Sally’s case, seeing a member of her community in Moriah undertake constructive punishment on her behalf is likely to prompt reflection and reform on Sally’s part. If it doesn’t, I see little reason to think that having Sally directly undertake the constructive punishment herself would make a difference in prompting the desired reform. Part of the goal of having Moriah undertake the reconciliatory process on behalf of Sally is that it prompts serious reflection on the part of Sally where the aim is to reform her character. Recall Metz’s burglary example (3.4). The thief turned neighbourhood security guard could perform his duties without having his character reformed. He could, for example, frequently get into confrontations with the homeowners he stole from. He could use his position to burglarise their homes again. Compensation for the victim is more easily enforced than trying to ensure a person’s character will be reformed. At best, what can be arranged is a set of circumstances where it is reasonable to believe a person’s character is likely to be reformed. But no matter the circumstances arranged, there has to be at least some effort and openness to reforming on the part of the wrongdoer. My reason for mentioning this is that an objector cannot block my proposal by claiming that witnessing Moriah undertake constructive punishment cannot guarantee Sally appropriately reforms her character. I call the view I have been describing in this section Relational Rescue. Here is a summary of the conditions: Agent A undertakes the reconciliatory process on behalf of Agent B iff: (i) A is in a friendly (i.e., communal or harmonious) relationship with B; (ii) A feels shame on account of B’s negative actions; (iii) A wishes to exhibit solidarity with B’s victims; (iv) A freely makes a public apology and public disavowal of B’s wrongdoing; (v) A freely undertakes the punishment; and (vi) the punishment A receives is constructive for B such that it compensates B’s victims and provides circumstances that are likely to reform B’s character. Remember that none of this implies that agent A is morally responsible for agent B’s actions. This account is not far-fetched when viewed through the lens of African communitarianism. Part of the incredulity about this account may also arise from the simple fact that Relational Rescue is just unlikely to occur very often. Being in community with a wrongdoer and feeling shame for their actions are necessary but not sufficient conditions for Relational Rescue. Furthermore, if this type of rescue is optional and supererogatory, it is unsurprising if there are very few instances of it.

The Moral Objection and Divine Relational Rescue  73 5.6  Divine Relational Rescue The previous section sets the stage for my explication of Divine Relational Rescue which solves the Moral Objection to the Relational Theory of the Atonement. In this section, I explain how the passion of Christ fulfils the conditions of Relational Rescue. The incarnation makes it possible for condition (i) to be fulfilled. Humanity is separated from God because of sin and moral failure. Without the incarnation God could not be in friendly relationship with humanity without some other kind of intervention. As a morally perfect human who is also fully divine, Jesus exhibits a very high (if not the highest) degree of solidarity and identification possible with humans. Jesus was consistently concerned with protecting the weak and vulnerable, and generally anyone that the culture of his day rejected. He consistently exhibited a high degree of emotional empathy, knowing what made others tick, and caring about their wellbeing. Indeed, much ink has been spilt by scholars detailing the kind of care Jesus often showed for others and how it ran counter to the culture of his day. Regarding (ii), since Jesus is in communal relationship with humans, it’s reasonable to think he experiences shame at their wrongdoing. The incarnation allows Jesus to more accurately empathise with the moral situation of humans. God does not need to imagine what it is like to be human. God was a human. Furthermore, God as divine parent is a common metaphor for her interaction with humans. Thus, not only does the fact that God became human mean she is reasonably considered part of the human community such that shame at humanity’s wrong is appropriate, but God can also have shame in a way that is similar to that of how a parent might be disappointed with their child. With respect to (iii), I have already stated that both God and other humans are the victims of human sin. Given the type of empathy Jesus exhibits with humans, it’s easy to see why he would want to express solidarity with the victims of sin. More challenging is the idea that God, as the victim of sin, wants to express solidarity with herself. Thinking about the relational aspects of the Trinity is helpful. God wants to be in friendly relationship with humans but is hurt by humanity’s sin. The type of help offered through the Atonement is a kind of expression of solidarity with herself as exemplified through the Trinity. Jesus expresses solidarity with God the father in his willingness to take on constructive punishment on humanity’s behalf. I have also already explained how (iv) is met by the passion of Christ so I will not spend very much time on it here (3.3). The public apology and disavowal may not have been literally stated or intended as one, but

74  A Relational Theory of the Atonement the incredibly public nature and long-lasting memory of the Atonement certainly allow it to count as such. If there is a more substantial objection on this point, I’m unable to identify it and as such, I leave it to others to formulate. In the garden of Gethsemane, Jesus asks God the father to ‘take the cup’ he is about to drink (Matthew 26: 36–46; Mark 14: 32–42; Luke 22: 39–46). It is widely thought that Christ’s prayer is a request to be released from the impending torture and execution. However, it’s a mistake to interpret this scene as evidence that Christ does not freely participate in his death such that condition (v) is not met. A son or daughter can freely submit to the wishes of their parent despite finding what they are submitting to difficult. They could freely submit to undertake a project on the parent’s behalf even if it’s a project they would otherwise rather not carry out. Still, there is a limit to the extent that this response can adequately account for condition (v). Reconsider the case of Moriah and Sally. Suppose that Moriah would rather not undertake reconciliation with Ahmed’s friends and family on behalf of Sally. Instead, imagine that Moriah’s mother is the one insisting that Moriah intercedes for Sally, including taking on constructive punishment. Children may have a duty to obey their parents in certain circumstances, but I doubt that this is one of them. I leave it up to others to defend the idea that such intercession is permissible if done so at the request of a parent (or some other authority figure). Instead, the doctrine of the Trinity helps to show how the freedom condition of Relational Rescue can be met. While this is a doctrine that often creates conceptual difficulties, in this instance, it is quite helpful. Traditional Christian doctrine affirms that Jesus is both fully divine and fully human. Traditional Christian doctrine also says that God is three distinct persons (i.e., father, son, and holy spirit) contained in one being. I don’t pretend that this doctrine doesn’t create numerous puzzles.14 But remember that I am not arguing for the truth of Christianity in this book; I am merely assuming the truth of Christianity, and the coherence of the Trinity is part of that assumption. With the Trinity in view, Christ’s plea is therefore best understood as internal anguish, not just within himself, but within the Godhead. If Jesus had not wanted to undertake the passion and crucifixion, then he would not have done so. At one level perhaps he did submit himself to his father’s (i.e., God the father’s) will. But the three persons of the Trinity cannot be at odds with each other. Indeed, they are in perfect or ideally friendly or harmonious relationships with each other. To say that the members of the Trinity had competing desires or goals and were at odds with each other is impossible.15 In other words, the fact that God the father and God the son are both equally God is what does the work of explaining why Jesus can be said to freely undertake the reconciliatory process on behalf of humanity.16

The Moral Objection and Divine Relational Rescue  75 In Section 4.5 of the last chapter, I explained why something as ­gruesome as execution by crucifixion could be considered constructive, at least in the particular case of Christ’s atonement. It is constructive because there is a sense in which it restores a victim’s ability to be in friendly relationship, first and foremost with God, but also with other humans. If a person sufficiently reflects on the crucifixion, it is also likely that they will have their character appropriately reformed. So, condition (vi) of Relational Rescue is met. The passion and death of Christ, therefore, meet the conditions for Relational Rescue. Since Christ is rescuing all of humanity, restoring the possibility for friendly relationship between both God and other people, and because Christ himself is divine, I call this Divine Relational Rescue. There are three initial benefits to this solution. First, it solves the Moral Objection in a way that does not violate deeply rooted moral intuitions, or at least does not do so to the same extent as other solutions. Second, it solves the problem in a way that is inspired by Metz’s Moral Relational Theory such that it contributes to unifying the Relational Theory of the Atonement. Third, it avoids the problems associated with the solutions to the objection offered by Craig on behalf of the penal substitution theorist. 5.7  Objections to Divine Relational Rescue I have little doubt that readers will have many questions and objections to Divine Relational Rescue. In this section, I briefly consider four possible questions and objections with the primary goal of forestalling any potential misunderstandings. 5.7.1 Is Divine Relational Rescue the Only Way for Humanity to Be Reconciled with God?

Philosophers and theologians have sometimes described Adam and Eve’s sin in the garden of Eden as a ‘happy sin’ because it initiated the great good of the Atonement (e.g., Plantinga 2004). God is not obligated to rescue humanity, but out of her great love for us, freely chooses to do so. However, one gets the sense that some Christians suppose (even if only implicitly) that the Atonement is also the only way God could have accomplished her goal of offering reconciliation with humanity (even if God isn’t required to enact it). However, it is false that the Atonement is the only way for God to reconcile with humanity. This is because it is a rather severe limitation on God’s power to suggest that the Atonement is the only way to accomplish it. In order to demonstrate that the Atonement as the only way doesn’t put a serious limitation on God’s power, it would have to be shown that it is the only logically possible solution such that

76  A Relational Theory of the Atonement holding this against God is akin to complaining that she cannot square a circle. I don’t see a way of successfully making this case. Divine Relational Rescue is therefore not the only way God could have used to reconcile with humanity. Instead, what I do claim is that this is a plausible model to explain the type of Atonement that did in fact occur in our world which makes significant use of resources from African philosophy. A related worry asks the question why any type of rescue is needed at all. If God is all powerful, why couldn’t God simply will reconciliation with humanity into existence? As stated previously, reconciliation may require participation on the wrongdoer’s part such that God cannot ensure it if humans are libertarian free. However, I do not believe that my Relational Theory of the Atonement commits me to the position that a specific type of rescue plan is necessary, nor that any type of rescue is necessary. Maybe there are other ways God could engage in reconciliation. My goal in this book is to provide a model with an African pedigree about what in fact happens in the actual world, on the assumption that Christianity is true. Still, if God enacts a rescue plan through reconciliation, it is good that this occurs. It is good that reconciliation between God and humanity is gained by the Atonement, even if it turns out not to be necessary for it.17 Notice that this response nicely preserves the idea that God is free, a component of traditional theism. 5.7.2 Does My Theory Imply That Others Can Always Take the Place for the Wrongdoer?

The answer to this question is quite simply ‘no.’ Not just anyone can ­undertake Relational Rescue. The conditions from (i) to (vi) must be met. The fact that it is logically possible that they obtain in other cases is not a problem for my theory. Though I imagine that the conditions will rarely obtain in other cases, it doesn’t hurt my theory if I am wrong about this fact. God is a relational person as are the humans she created.18 It’s thus unsurprising that the type of relational rescue available to God is also possible for humans to undertake for each other. We’re both relational creatures. 5.7.3 If my account shows that Jesus isn’t guilty for humanity’s sins even though he atones for them, how is human guilt actually dealt with?

When Moriah freely undertakes reconciliation with Ahmed’s family on behalf of Sally, it is Sally’s guilt that is removed provided that Ahmed’s family forgives her. There are thus two conditions for the removal of guilt. First, reconciliation that includes constructive punishment must be enacted by the wrongdoer or appropriately on behalf of the wrongdoer. Second, the victim or victims, need to forgive the person who has wronged them. Now, taking on constructive punishment does not require the participation

The Moral Objection and Divine Relational Rescue  77 of the victim. A public apology and disavowal can be issued by the ­wrongdoer without participation from the victim. I suppose that a certain degree of consent is necessary in order to compensate the victim. But such participation is rather minimal. Consider the case of financial compensation. A wrongdoer could leave part of their earnings in their victim’s mailbox each week, even if the victim is not particularly keen on receiving them. I offer no prescriptions about the degree to which a victim’s consent and participation is required in order to receive compensation. There may well be vagueness problems here in identifying the precise degree of consent or participation required of the victim. However, this isn’t a problem since I am working with an ideal case of reconciliation in the form of the Atonement. In some sense, God is the victim of humanity’s sin, but it is God who undertakes the reconciliation with herself though it is done on humanity’s behalf. God is therefore a full participant in the reconciliatory process, so I do not need to identify the degree to which a victim’s consent is needed in order to compensate them. The other aspect of guilt is more intimately connected to the victim’s participation. Forgiveness involves the victim changing their attitude towards the wrongdoer. If Ahmed’s family and friends forgive Sally, they let go of negative attitudes regarding her wrongful behaviour. If forgiveness really is essential for the removal of guilt, a number of complications arise. Suppose I break my promise to you about joining an academic committee. This means you have to take on more of the work in writing tedious reports and attending dull meetings. I’ve let you down. But further imagine that I am genuinely remorseful and seek to reconcile with you. I make a public apology and disavowal of my behaviour at a faculty meeting. I also seek to compensate you by taking your place on two other committees. Such committee work is likely to reform my character because I experience firsthand the tedium that you had to endure. I was wrong to break my promise, but if I have sincerely attempted to reconcile with you, then there seems to be some onus on you to forgive me. There is something inappropriate happening if you continue to hate and despise me despite my best efforts at reconciliation. Again, I make no attempt at providing necessary and sufficient conditions or a precise boundary for when a victim needs to forgive. My point is that a victim cannot hold their wrongdoer’s guilt hostage, so to speak, by refusing to forgive (i.e., change their attitudes), in cases where forgiveness is appropriate. At some point, the wrongdoer’s guilt is removed even if the victim continues to withhold forgiveness.19 Presumably, the degree to which victims ought to forgive their wrongdoers tracks with the level of the wrong committed. Indeed, in the previous chapter I show that Metz separates forgiveness from reconciliation because it’s too difficult for the state to enforce forgiveness. Furthermore, some crimes seem so terrible that requiring forgiveness, even in cases where

78  A Relational Theory of the Atonement reconciliation is sought, is intuitively implausible. My wrong of shirking committee work is much less serious than Sally murdering Ahmed. It is unclear to me when, if ever, given the heinousness of certain crimes, a victim could be required to forgive.20 My basic point is just that there is also something counterintuitive in claiming that a victim can hold the guilt of the wrongdoer hostage indefinitely. Some of the questions here are quite vexing when it comes to human-tohuman reconciliation. However, my failure to provide precise answers to them does not impact the plausibility of Divine Relational Rescue. This is because the Atonement represents the ideal and thus includes forgiveness. God does indeed forgive and hence lets go of negative attitudes towards humans regarding their sin. Whether God would be justified in not forgiving us (and whether we could ever have our guilt removed without her forgiveness) is irrelevant to my account since God does in fact offer forgiveness. At worst, then, this objection points to relevant dissimilarities between human-to-human reconciliation and God-to-human reconciliation. 5.7.4 Even if I Show That Christ Can Atone for Humans, Why Can’t Humans Atone for Themselves?

Suppose I successfully demonstrate that Christ can undertake reconciliation with God on behalf of humanity. Further suppose I am right that it is good that Christ atones on our behalf. One remaining question is why a person couldn’t undertake reconciliation on their own. There is much made in the Christian tradition about the fact that Christ is a morally perfect sacrifice. In 4.4, I discussed the idea that perhaps the Atonement is better understood as a voluntary sacrifice instead of a punishment via execution. In the Old Testament, it is the very best animals of the herd that are sacrificed. One should offer the best of what they have to God. This helps to explain why the very best human is required as the sacrifice for all of humanity. Though this sacrifice model helps avoid worries about the impermissibility of the death penalty (Chapter Four), I proceeded on the understanding of the Atonement as a type of constructive punishment since that idea best fits with the Relational Theory of the Atonement. To state the questions more precisely, why couldn’t humans undertake their own reconciliation (i.e., undertake the steps of relational rescue themselves) in order to restore their relationship with God? Why does Christ do it on humanity’s behalf? I offer two tentative replies. First, perhaps the sin in question is so qualitatively awful and so quantitatively immense that the reconciler needs to be blameless. Provided that the person interceding is not involved in the wrong themselves (and so doesn’t need to enact reconciliation for themselves), there is nothing in my account that entails the reconciler must be

The Moral Objection and Divine Relational Rescue  79 morally blameless. I suppose one way of motivating this answer is based on the claim that since the community is interconnected and tied together, the guilt is spread out. The moral responsibility for actions is therefore spread out amongst the community. When considering all of the sins of humanity combined, the picture of who is guilty becomes blurred. Indeed, this picture is even more blurry on African Communitarianism. Individuals do not operate in (moral) isolation from their communities. Their successes and failures are very much their communities’ too. In the African moral tradition, the question of whether other community members are somehow morally responsible for each other’s actions is a vexed one. The upshot of having Christ – both part of the human community and also separate from it in being fully divine – atone for sin is that it entirely avoids this question. What I mean by this is that perhaps the reconciler needs to be morally perfect in order to ensure they are not in any way even partially guilty for any of the wrongs done by their community members. I remain unsure how to motivate this strategy further. Second, and perhaps more controversially, is the idea that the reconciler technically does not have to be perfect. For each of their sins against God, a person could undertake to reconcile themselves with God. While this might be logically possible, a number of practical difficulties immediately arise. Though I reject the doctrine of original guilt, I accept the doctrine of original sin and include it in my Theological Assumption (1.6). This implies that humans have a propensity or disposition to sin. Humans are naturally disposed to selfishness. This means that in all likelihood, the process of reconciliation with God will have to be constantly undertaken and re-undertaken. The sheer amount of sin one needs to account for implies that one will have to be undertaking multiple constructive punishments constantly. Depending on the person, and the amount of sin in question, engaging in reconciliation could consume every moment of their waking life. It’s not clear that, practically speaking, it’s possible for an individual to continually enact reconciliation on their own behalf each time they sin against God. This is so even if moral perfection is technically not a requirement for undertaking relational rescue. Other practical problems with humans undertaking their own reconciliation remain. For example, what happens if a person dies without having engaged in reconciliation with God for their sin(s)? Such a person would be in an unfriendly relationship with God. While I do not believe this implies a person is sent to a literal hell consisting of indefinite physical torture (1.6), it is unclear what to think about this case if in fact they are on unfriendly terms with God. Do they get another chance in the afterlife to undertake reconciliation? Presumably, they could not enter into a harmonious relationship with God without somehow addressing their sin which is the cause of disharmony.

80  A Relational Theory of the Atonement Christ as reconciler avoids all of these practical problems. It is no longer a problem if one lacks the capacity (i.e., time, energy, resources, etc.) to constantly be undertaking reconciliation since Christ does so on behalf of all of humanity and for all time. Christ’s atonement is also not constrained by time. Since Christ is God and God is outside of time, the Atonement has happened, is happening, and will happen. It is always the case that Christ has atoned for humanity. On this view, it does not matter if a person dies without having enacted reconciliation with God for their sin. In solving these problems, it appears the Atonement is a parsimonious solution to humanity’s separation from God. It does not require that each individual be constantly reconciling themselves to God. Reconciliation is always available for all through the Atonement. Finally, if it turns out to be the case that reconciliation with God must be enacted by a morally perfect individual for a reason I have failed to identify here, then Christ meets this condition too. 5.8  Divine Relational Rescue and Craig’s Penal Substitution There are both similarities and dissimilarities between Divine Relational Rescue and Craig’s Penal Substitution that are worth observing. Perhaps most obvious is that Craig, and maybe most other penal substitution theorists, will complain that my account focuses on justice between individual private persons. Craig repeatedly criticises Stump’s account for the same reason because he believes a more accurate analogy for theorising about the Atonement is to appeal to the legal system. This means thinking of God in terms of judge and jury, and humans as criminals on trial. I don’t highlight this difference in order to adjudicate it here. For precisely which analogy is more accurate could itself be the topic of an entire book. My point is just that this is an important methodological difference in our approaches to theorising about the Atonement that may serve to explain why Craig and other penal theorists are likely to reject Divine Relational Rescue.21 Though I did not spend time detailing his position on the matter in 5.3, Craig believes that Christ’s substitution must be accepted by a person in order for it to be effective for them (249–257). I have purposefully remained neutral across different understandings of salvation in this book. I believe that it is a virtue of the Relational Theory of the Atonement, which includes Divine Relational Rescue, that it is consistent with numerous views of salvation including exclusivism, inclusivism, and universalism. Again, my point is just that this is a significant difference between my theory and the one Craig defends.22 That Divine Relational Rescue includes punishment is probably the ­feature of it that is most similar to penal substitution. That Christ is, in

The Moral Objection and Divine Relational Rescue  81 one way or another, punished for the sins of humanity is most closely and ­consistently associated with penal substitution theories of the Atonement. But it’s important to see that the justification for punishment on the theory of reconciliation I endorse is entirely different from the justification one finds on the retributive theories of justice associated with penal substitution. According to the Relational Moral Theory, the purpose of the punishment is to achieve a good outcome for the offender and victim which is why it must be constructive. It is not to ‘even the score’ as the penal substitution theorist who endorses retribution would have it. This discussion of the differences between Divine Relational Rescue and Craig’s penal substitution is hardly exhaustive. However, it is sufficient to demonstrate that Divine Relational Rescue is not an African-inspired version of penal substitution. As stated at length, the purpose of this book is not to interact extensively with the vast literature on the Atonement but instead to engineer a theory of the Atonement that draws on resources from contemporary African philosophy. In this chapter I more directly interact with a different theory as located in Craig’s penal substitution for two reasons. First, it is a theory that clearly addresses the Moral Objection which is the primary focus of this chapter. Second, it serves as an example of the kind of further comparative work that could be the next stage of fruitful research into African theories of the Atonement.23 5.9 Conclusion The Moral Objection poses the most serious challenge to the Relational Theory of the Atonement. The problem arises because substitution violates strong moral intuitions about the fact that one person cannot take the blame and punishment for another’s wrongdoing. I argue that shifting from an individual to communal outlook alleviates at least some of the force behind this intuition. Furthermore, I defend a model whereby an individual can undertake reconciliation on behalf of someone else even if they aren’t guilty for that person’s wrong. If someone is part of the ­wrongdoer’s community, feels shame on their behalf, wishes to exhibit solidarity with the victims, then they can freely undertake reconciliation on behalf of the wrongdoer. This is a kind of Relational Rescue, and it neatly applies to the Atonement. Christ is part of the human community and therefore can feel shame for the wrongs of humans even though he is not guilty for them. While Divine Relational Rescue might not be the only way for humanity to be reconciled with God, it is good that it happened, it addresses our guilt, and it avoids practical problems with other types of reconciliation. Divine Relational Rescue is an African-inspired solution to the Moral Objection.

82  A Relational Theory of the Atonement Notes 1 See Lewis 1997 for discussion, including some peculiar exceptions. 2 Craig has published other work on the Atonement, but his full-length 2020 book appears to be the definitive statement of his view which is why I use it exclusively in this section. For example, see also Craig 2018a, b, c, d, 2019. 3 I will not summarise Craig’s interpretation of the biblical data on the Atonement. See Part I of his book for the details (Craig 2020). 4 Craig explains that “a so-called negative retributivism holds that the innocent should not be punished because they do not deserve it, the essence of retributive justice lies in so-called positive retributivism, which holds that the guilty should be punished because they deserve it” (Craig 2020, 178). 5 An anonymous referee also rightly observes that the fact that imputation is part of the Reformed tradition is not sufficient to justify Craig’s appeal to it in the face of sparse biblical support. 6 Of course, Craig could fairly respond that his insistence on retribution is based solely on the biblical data regarding atonement. It’s an interesting question whether having reconciliatory theories of justice as an option would change one’s reading of such data. Rutledge argues against Craig’s interpretation of the biblical data. Instead, Rutledge claims that scriptures affirm a restorative understanding of justice (2022, 116–124). This is probably the closest work currently on offer which defends a reconciliatory approach to justice based on the biblical data. 7 In fairness to Craig, Rutledge’s book had not yet been published when Craig was writing his book. 8 Rutledge himself does not appear to endorse this account but instead offers it as the best model for those committed to penal substitution. 9 Recall that in 3.5, I explain some problems with these accounts, apart from their possible application to the Atonement. 10 This is similar to my points in 4.3 about the fact that Christ’s suffering could prompt people to reflect on their own sin. 11 Rutledge believes that there is collective sin of humanity that is not reducible to the sin of individual humans. He examines different possible group level decision-procedures in case such a procedure is required in order for the group itself to be considered a moral agent and hence for the group to bear sin (2022, 155). These include the Church and Holy Spirit (Rutledge 2022, 155–116). For more on this see Cockayne 2019 and 2020. He also notes that Thurow 2015 argues that no such decision-procedure is necessary. One benefit of the Relational Theory is that I believe it is consistent with a variety of different understandings individual and communal sin. 12 Interestingly, though, it may well be available to the proponent of Rutledge’s description of penal substitution without retribution. 13 For just two examples, see: Remains of 215 children found buried at former B.C. residential school, First Nation says | CBC News and Canada residential school: Search reveals 169 potential unmarked graves at site of former St. Bernard Mission School, officials say – CNN. 14 Philosophers and theologians continue to spill much ink over it. 15 Terms such as ‘desires’ and ‘goals’ that are attributed to God should be understood as analogical. 16 African communitarianism is well-positioned to make novel insights into the doctrine of the Trinity. For example, it would be interesting to know how it could enrich current discussions of the ‘social model’ of the Trinity.

The Moral Objection and Divine Relational Rescue  83 17 I suppose that one could argue that the reconciliatory model I’ve described is the best way to achieve reconciliation even if it is not the only way. This could include the idea that it is the best way for humans to sufficiently reflect on their sin, reform their character, etc. This is a much stronger claim than the one I attempt to defend. 18 This is not to imply that God and humans are the exactly the same kind of person. 19 Swinburne 1989 appears to hold a similar view. 20 Although it is worth noting that Christianity may offer a clear answer. The Christian tradition typically maintains that forgiveness must be offered for any  type of wrong, no matter how terrible, if the offender makes a sincere apology. 21 With those who embrace Rutledge’s description of penal substitution without retribution being the most obvious possible exception. 22 It should be noted that some understandings of penal substitution are consistent with views of salvation which differ from Craig’s. 23 Another clear instance for further cross-cultural dialogue would be to examine the degree to which there is overlap, particularly in the underlying motivation, between the sort of reconciliation I’ve embraced, and Rutledge’s endorsement of God’s justice as focuses on restoration.

References Cockayne, Joshua. (2019). “Analytic Ecclesiology: The Social Ontology of the Church.” Journal of Analytic Theology 7: 100–123. Cockayne, Joshua. (2020). “I Believe in the Holy Spirit the Holy Catholic Church.” In The Third Person of the Trinity: Explorations in Constructive Dogmatics, Crisp, Oliver D. and Saznders, Fred (eds), Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan. pp. 161–178. Craig, William Lane. (2018a). The Atonement. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Craig, William Lane. (2018b). “Is Penal Substitution Unsatisfactory?” Philosophia Christ 21 (1): 153–166. Craig, William Lane. (2018c). “Is Penal Substitution Incoherent? An Examination of Mark Murphy’s Criticisms.” Religious Studies 54 (4): 509–526. Craig, William Lane. (2018d). “Is Penal Substitution Unjust?” International Journal for Philosophy of Religion 83: 231–244. Craig, William Lane. (2019). “Is Penal Substitution Unsatisfactory?” Philosophia Christ 21 (1): 153–166. Lewis, David. (1997). “Do We Believe in Penal Substitution? Philosophical Papers XXVI (3): 203–209. Metz, Thaddeus. (2022). A Relational Moral Theory: African Ethics in and beyond the Continent. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Murphy, Mark C. (2009). “Not Penal Substitution but Vicarious Punishment.” Faith and Philosophy 26 (3): 253–273. Oruka, H. Odera and Calestous Juma. (1994). “Ecophilosophy and Parental Earth Ethics.” In Philosophy, Humanity and Ecology, Oruka, H. Odera (ed), Nairobi, Kenya: ACTS. pp. 115–129.

84  A Relational Theory of the Atonement Plantinga, Alvin. (2004). “Supralapsarianism or ‘O Felix Culpa’.” In Christian Faith and the Problem of Evil, Inwagen, Peter van (ed), Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmanns. pp. 1–25. Stump, Elenore. (2018). Atonement. New York: Oxford University Press. Swinburne, Richard. (1989). Responsibility and Atonement. New York: Oxford University Press. Thurow, Joshua C. (2015). “Communal Substitutionary Atonement.” Journal of Analytic Theology 3: 47–69.

6 The Relational Theory of the Atonement Tentatively Nearing Completion

6.1 Introduction This chapter concludes Part I of the book by synthesising the ideas in the previous chapters into a coherent whole. In addition to bringing the full theory into clearer focus, I will also explain how it meets the desiderata for a successful theory of the Atonement that I describe in Chapter One. 6.2  A Tentatively Complete Relational Theory of the Atonement Here is a summary of the tentatively complete Relational Theory of the Atonement: • The life, death, and passion of Christ combined to serve as an ultimate act of friendliness in reconciling humanity to God (Chapter Four). • Christ exhibits extremely high (if not the highest) levels of solidarity and identity with humanity (Chapter Four). • This act of friendliness solves the backward-looking problem in dealing with sin, but also touches on the forward-looking problem in addressing our disposition to sin (Chapter Four). • The Atonement is an act of reconciliation and as such includes public disavowal, and constructive punishment that compensates the victim and makes character reform of the perpetrator likely (Chapter Five). • The death penalty is appropriately constructive because it restores the victim by creating the conditions for friendliness between humanity and God (Chapter Six). • Christ acts as a substitute for humanity by undertaking Divine Relational Rescue, which means he feels shame by humanity’s sins (though he is not guilty for them), along with empathy for the victims (Chapter Seven).

DOI: 10.4324/9781003412878-7

86  A Relational Theory of the Atonement 6.3 Meeting the Desiderata for a Successful Theory of the Atonement Recall that in Chapter One, I set out the desiderata for a successful theory of the atonement: • It must be consistent with my Theological Assumption. • It must be broadly consistent with the Christian tradition, including the Apostle’s Creed and the Nicene Creed. • It must offer a solution to both the backward-looking and forwardlooking problems of sin. • It must explain how torturing and executing an innocent person is ­morally permissible. • It must account for the intuition that an innocent person cannot, all else being equal, be held responsible for the wrongs of another person. • While it must take seriously the needs of individuals, it must also take seriously (as at least equally important) the needs of the entire community’s health. My Relational Theory of the Atonement meets these desiderata, and it is an open question whether it does so better than any of the other theories. It is consistent with my Theological Assumption, and the Creeds. I will not defend this claim further and leave it to theologians or biblical scholars to say otherwise. My theory also successfully shows that punishment is in fact part of an understanding of reconciliation with an African pedigree. I  also show that the torture and death of Christ can be defended as reasonable exceptions to the general prohibition against the death penalty in African thought. Finally, my model of Divine Relational Rescue demonstrates that even though Christ is innocent, he can undertake reconciliation on our behalf if he does so freely. This model also shows how Christ rescues all of humanity. Questions about the degree to which wrong actions are really the responsibility of the entire community therefore do not arise on it. 6.4 Conclusion By appealing to the African philosophical tradition, my Relational Theory of the Atonement exhibits the potential to shed new light on this important Christian doctrine. African philosophy has much to offer the Western intellectual tradition, and I hope to have taken one small step by offering an example of fruitful interaction. That the African philosophical canon is primarily written in English leaves Western scholars little excuse for not beginning to engage in it. At a general level, my hope for this particular project is that it will serve as an example to Western philosophical theologians about how fruitful dialogue between the two traditions

The Relational Theory of the Atonement  87 can occur. More narrowly, I hope that Western scholars working on the ­Atonement will consider including the Relational Theory of the Atonement in their future work. The next part of this book explores further connections between the African moral tradition and Western philosophical theology. Metz’s Moral Relational Theory is one of a number of different theories I might have used to construct an African theory of the Atonement. As I say earlier, since it is the one that I find most plausible (and the most systematically developed), it made good sense to use it. In Chapter Seven, I show how one might develop a theory of the Atonement based on Personhood accounts of African ethics. This is by far the most popular way of interpreting African ethics. In Chapter Eight, I construct a theory of the Atonement based on life force accounts of African ethics. This is the most obvious example of an ethic grounded in a religious metaphysics on the African continent. My reason for this is to appeal to those readers already committed to alternative African moral theories. They also serve as further examples of productive interaction between the Western and African tradition.

Part 2

Other African Theories of the Atonement

7 A Personhood Theory of the Atonement

7.1 Introduction The purpose of this chapter is to develop the best possible theory of the Atonement based on the African interpretation of ethics that focuses on normative personhood. This is by far the most dominant branch in African ethics, with numerous articles and books devoted to it. I begin by describing the general contours of personhood moral theory (Section 7.2). This leads to a novel explanation of sin (Section 7.3), and an initial statement of the Personhood Theory of the Atonement (Section 7.4). I then explore whether the major aspects of my Relational Theory of the Atonement can be modified in order to accommodate an ethic based on normative ­personhood. This includes examining constructive punishment in light of personhood (Section 7.5), the permissibility of the death penalty on a personhood ethic (Section 7.6), and whether personhood is compatible with Divine Relational Rescue (Section 7.7). I conclude that it is possible to offer a coherent Personhood Theory of the Atonement by modifying the key components of the Relational Theory of the Atonement. After addressing an objection (Section 7.8), I offer a tentatively complete Personhood Theory of the Atonement (Section 7.9). 7.2  African Normative Personhood Personhood is the most influential interpretation of morality in contemporary African ethics. Though strange to Western readers, personhood is a normative concept in the African tradition. It is not about what biological features are particular to all humans, nor is it about which metaphysical features constitute personal identity over time (e.g., m ­ emory, consciousness, rationality, etc.) (Gyekye 1997, 35–36). Rather personhood is a term of moral praise assigned to individuals who earn it. Thus, “­personhood is something which has to be achieved and is not given simply because one is born of human seed” (Menkiti 1984, 172). It is a DOI: 10.4324/9781003412878-9

92  Other African Theories of the Atonement success term that comes in degrees. So an individual can be more or less of a person, and in cases of extreme and repeated moral failure can even be considered a non-person (though still a human being). One of the most influential papers on personhood in the African ­philosophical tradition comes from Ifeanyi Menkiti (1940–2019), in his “Person and Community in Traditional Thought” (1984).1 This is one of the first attempts to show that the African conception of personhood is normative and hence entirely distinct from Western conceptions of personhood. Menkiti’s views have come to be referred to as radical communitarianism, something noteworthy, given the already highly communal nature of African thought in general (at least when compared to most Western thought). Given the vast secondary literature Menkiti’s ideas have generated, I make no aims at completeness in this section, instead focusing on what Menkiti himself has written. Menkiti says that “the reality of the communal world takes precedence over the reality of individual life histories, whatever these may be” (1984, 171). This is not a claim only about ontological primacy, but it is also about epistemic access; i.e., individuals can only be known through the community (1984, 171). And this knowledge is not just about what others can know, rather Menkiti claims that an individual can only know herself in relation to the community (1984, 171–172). It is thus also a claim about self-knowledge. For, in the African view it is the community which defines the person as person, not some isolated static quality of rationality, will, or memory […] without incorporation into this or that community, individuals are considered to be mere danglers to whom the description ‘person’ does not fully apply. (Menkiti 1984, 172) Menkiti stresses over and over again that it is only through the community that an individual can develop their personhood. This is, in part, because the community prescribes the norms that individuals need to follow in order to achieve personhood (Menkiti 1984, 172). For Menkiti, then, personhood is a success term that comes in degrees. If Menkiti is right, it helps to explain why elders are especially revered in many African societies (Menkiti 2004, 325). For we can speak of an 18-year-old math genius but not of an 18-year-old moral genius. This is because it takes time to develop personhood, and there are no shortcuts to it (Menkiti 2004, 326). In sum, [t]he various societies found in traditional Africa routinely accept this fact that personhood is the sort of thing which has to be attained

A Personhood Theory of the Atonement  93 and is attained in direct proportion as one participates in communal life through the discharge of the various obligations defined by one’s stations. (Menkiti 1984, 176) An important place where Menkiti’s views have been questioned regards his understanding of fundamental human rights or dignity. Namely, he seems to deny that rights can be had by individuals apart from the c­ ommunity. Menkiti writes that: If it is generally conceded, then, that persons are the sort of entities that are owed the duties of justice, it must also be allowed that each time we find an ascription of any of the various rights implied by these duties of justice, the conclusion naturally follows that the possessor of the rights in question cannot be other than a person. That is so because the basis of such rights ascription has now been made dependent on a possession of a capacity for a moral sense, a capacity, which though it need not be realized, is nonetheless made most evident by a concrete exercise of duties of justice towards others in the ongoing relationships of everyday life. (Menkiti 1984, 177) According to Menkiti, Africans tend to move from society to individuals; this is what he refers to as ‘organic unity.’ Westerners, on the other hand, tend to move from individuals to society which is ‘non-organic’ and implies more of an association instead of a genuine community (Menkiti 1984, 180). Menkiti concludes that: [I]t becomes quite clear why African societies tend to be organized around the requirements of duty while Western societies tend to be organized around the postulation of individual rights. In the African understanding, priority is given to the duties which individuals owe to the collectivity, and their rights, whatever these may be, are seen as secondary to the exercise of their duties. In the West, on the other hand, we find a construal of things in which certain specified rights of individuals are seen as antecedent to the organization of society; with the function of government viewed, consequently as being the protection and defense of these individual rights. (Menkiti 1984, 180) Though at times it is not entirely clear, Menkiti is generally taken to be claiming that since a person cannot exist (in the normative sense) apart from the community, they have no inherent dignity or individual rights

94  Other African Theories of the Atonement attached to them simply in virtue of being a biological human. At least with respect to rights, the label of radical communitarian seems apt.2 Kwame Gyekye (1939–2019) is widely regarded as one of the most influential African philosophers of the 20th century. He was one of the first to label Menkiti’s view ‘radical,’ and in contrast, he defends what he calls moderate communitarianism. The dispute between Gyekye and Menkiti on personhood is one of the most famous debates in contemporary African philosophy, and it hinges on whether the individual is assigned equal value to the community.3 Menkiti seems to deny that the individual is equally valuable to the community while Gyekye wants to affirm this equality.4 A  significant motivator behind Gyekye’s view is that while he affirms humans are social by nature, he claims that they are other things by nature too (1997, 47). Other important features of human nature that Gyekye has in mind are “rationality, having a moral sense and capacity for virtue and, hence, for evaluating and making moral judgments: all this means that the individual is capable of choice” (Gyekye 1997, 53; emphasis mine). Community, therefore, only plays a partial role in helping an individual to develop and achieve personhood. One pertinent example he uses to demonstrate this is that of the moral reformer. According to Gyekye, legitimate moral reformers only exist because it is possible in some cases to challenge communal norms. That humans are able to make such moral judgements seemingly apart from the community, support Gyekye’s contention that humans are importantly autonomous (1997, 53–54). For “[t]he historical emergence of moral visionaries or idealist in societies is an eloquent testimony that the moral hands of some individuals are not tied by the communal structure” (Gyekye 1997, 60). And so, Gyekye “sees the self both as a communal being and as an autonomous, self-assertive being with a capacity for evaluation and choice” (1997, 59). According to Gyekye, one advantage of his moderate view is that it affirms the existence of human rights, something that postcolonial African socialists tend to deny (1997, 62). Though community values are incredibly important, “[r]ights belong primarily and irreducibly to the individual. They are a means of expressing an individual’s talents, capacities, and identity, even though the expression, arguably can best be accomplished within a social framework” (Gyekye 1997, 62). For Gyekye, there are dual features of the self – the self as an autonomous, assertive entity capable of evaluation and choice and as a communal being – is a commitment to the acknowledgment of the intrinsic worth of the self and the moral rights that can be said necessarily to be due to it. (1997, 64) How are conflicts between individuals and the community to be solved? According to Gyekye, basic rights have limits within the community. Such

A Personhood Theory of the Atonement  95 limitations are set by the distinction between whether what’s at stake involves only oneself or could harm the community. The former involves rights that the community cannot force an individual to forfeit while the latter do not (Gyekye 1997, 64–65). Gyekye appears to rely on something akin to Mill’s harm principle, though he never explicitly acknowledges as much.5 It is important to recognise that regardless of who is right in the MenkitiGyekye debate, the following moral principle can be derived from an ethic focused on personhood: • An action is right inasmuch as it tends to contribute to the development of personhood. • An action is wrong inasmuch as it tends to hinder the development of personhood. Personhood is developed in the context of harmonious relationships within one’s community. Actions that lead to disunity within a community degrade one’s personhood, whereby one acts like a mere animal. This is so regardless of who between Menkiti or Gyekye turns out to be correct. The question I take up in the rest of this chapter is whether the key concepts in the Relational Theory of the Atonement can be successfully modified in order to be grounded in an ethic based on the African normative conception of personhood. 7.3  Personhood and Sin Personhood sheds new light on the nature of sin as understood in the Christian context. In the Western tradition, sin is often understood as something that afflicts individuals in isolation from others. It is a problem that therefore must also be overcome by the individual on their own, or perhaps only with the help of God. Though an individual’s sin sometimes affects others such that the sinner needs to make an apology, it is in general up to the offender to fix their inclination to sin. Understanding sin in terms of a moral theory grounded in normative personhood is helpful in at least two ways. First, it focuses on character in important ways. I suspect that sometimes lost in certain sects of Christianity is how important character development is connected to spiritual growth. I further suspect that this can happen when the emphasis on morality is placed on action, with the most weight placed on avoiding wrong actions. Unpalatable forms of legalism may ensue from this type of thinking. Admittedly, the Catholic intellectual tradition has stayed much closer to Aristotelianism, including virtue theory, such that character has consistently remained importantly connected to their moral thinking.6

96  Other African Theories of the Atonement Second, the Western virtue theory tradition tends to focus on an i­ndividual’s character development, sometimes in isolation from the context of community. However, African personhood can only be developed (or for certain theorists, is best developed) by exercising other-regarding virtues in the context of one’s community. These virtues are sometimes different from those found in Western virtue ethics in important ways (see Metz 2012). My point here is not so much to highlight that there may be disagreements between these traditions over which actions may be right or wrong or over which character traits that ought to be developed. Though I don’t deny important questions may well arise on such topics, I am instead seeking to highlight the communal nature of sin on this model. If I act like a sub-human or mere animal, I do so on the basis of how I interact with other members of my community. When I positively develop my personhood, I do so within the context of my community. Though many of the Western virtues can be connected to virtue within a community (e.g., bravery in the face of threats against members of one’s community), the African conception of personhood implies that all of morality, and hence all of sin, is intimately bound up with one’s community. This has the potential for novel insights into the ways the Western Christian intellectual tradition typically thinks of sin as being a matter for the individual sinner to address on their own or only in relation to God. I recognise that it would take much more work to establish my claims more firmly in this section, particularly those about the lack of focus on character in certain Christian sects, in addition to the failure to locate character development in the context of community when character is recognised as important. But minimally, these ideas deserve further exploration in how they might shed new light on more typically Western understandings of sin in the Christian tradition. 7.4  An Initial Personhood Theory of the Atonement Here is an initial statement of the Personhood Theory of the Atonement: • The life, death, and passion of Christ serves to allow humans (the opportunity) to develop their personhood in the context of their ­ ­community that first and foremost includes God, but also includes all other humans. • Christ exhibits an extremely high level of personhood in sacrificing himself for the liveliness of the rest of the world (i.e., he acts as a paradigmatic moral exemplar). • This act of personhood solves the backward-looking problem in dealing with sin, and also addresses the forward-looking problem in changing the human tendency to act like a sub-person or animal.

A Personhood Theory of the Atonement  97 In the rest of this chapter, I examine the degree to which this initial Personhood Theory of the Atonement coheres with the main components of the Relational Theory of the Atonement. 7.5  Constructive Punishment and Personhood Recall that in Section 3.2, I explained that the African tradition favours reconciliation over punishment in matters of justice. I argued that Metz’s understanding of justice is appropriately African, though it advocates for a type of reconciliation that includes constructive punishment. Remember that such punishment is supposed to be burdensome, compensate the victim, and ideally, reform the character of the offender. The question I focus on in this section is whether constructive punishment can be consistent with an ethic based on normative personhood. I believe that Metz’s theory of reconciliation fits seamlessly with normative personhood. Consider what personhood says about the acceptability of the more Western protectionist and retributive theories of justice (Section 3.4). Protectionist theories say that whatever type of punishment best protects future victims is what is justified. Recall that this could involve punishments that are too lenient, but even more importantly, ones that are far too severe. Protectionist theories of justice face certain difficulties on an ethic grounded in African normative personhood. On this moral outlook, the key question is whether protectionist justice is likely to help develop the personhood of the offender and their victim(s), and of members of the wider community more generally. Consider using jail to punish someone primarily because it is an effective deterrent of future crimes. This does not in any straightforward way help to develop the personhood of the wrongdoer. It also does not appear to develop any of the otherregarding virtues in the victim nor of their wider community. As I’ll argue below, ­personhood is indeed compatible with certain types of punishment. However, it seems incompatible with punishment motivated primarily by protection. Theories of justice based on retribution fare no better on a normative personhood ethic. Remember that one important problem with retribution is that it does not, in principle, respect the inherent dignity of offenders thereby making certain types of punishment impermissible (Section 3.4). There is something intuitively immoral about maiming those who maim or raping those who rape. Though normative personhood is consistent with recognising the inherent dignity or rights of each person, this is not the easiest way to see how retribution is in tension with personhood. Instead, consider whether retributive punishment is likely to help develop the personhood of the offender, their victims, and that of their wider community where the wrong has taken place. There is no straightforward way

98  Other African Theories of the Atonement in which retribution helps develop the personhood of the offender. The typical punishments associated with retribution in no clear way facilitate the offender developing other-regarding virtues in the context of their community (i.e., the community in which they’ve harmed by creating strife and discord through their wrong). This does not beg the question against retribution in favour of reconciliation. For in rejecting retribution on the basis of personhood this does not, in itself, demonstrate that reconciliation is permissible (or preferable). The good news is that normative personhood does in fact cohere much better with reconciliatory accounts of justice, including the one that Metz defends which contains constructive punishment. Consider first the idea of public apology and disavowal, along with a commitment not to commit the wrong again. This act appears like a way for the offender to develop their personhood by expressing concern for their victim (i.e., by exercising other-regarding virtue). The victim too perhaps has the chance to develop their personhood in choosing how to respond to this apology. If such an apology is the first step towards reconciliation, then it leaves open the possibility of each member of the community positively developing their personhood because it seeks to re-establish peace and harmony within the community. Recall that on this view of reconciliation, the punishment is not justified because it deters wrong acts in the future or because it is proportionate to the crime. Instead, the punishment is constructive because it facilitates reconciliation between the parties. Part of the reason why the constructive punishment must consist of burdensome labour is that the fruit of such labour should compensate the victim and make it likely that the offender’s character will be reformed. If compensating the victim is a way for the offender to express remorse and concern for their victim, then it also plausibly develops their personhood. In particular, Metz’s claim that in an ideal scenario, the punishment would help to reform the character of the wrongdoer coheres perfectly with normative personhood. For such an ethic is about developing one’s character. Ideally, constructive punishment will force the wrongdoer to slow down and reflect on their offense. They should also be prompted to examine their motivations in order to better understand why they committed the act in the first place. Punishments that promote the development of one’s character just are those that develop one’s personhood since these are equivalent. Notice that this is the case even if there can be reasonable disagreement about which punishments will best serve this purpose. Constructive punishment need not guarantee that the growth and development of personhood takes place, particularly with respect to the wrongdoer. It is possible that some offenders are so hardened, so consistently act

A Personhood Theory of the Atonement  99 as mere animals, that their personhood cannot be restored by any type of constructive punishment. However, in order to be justified as sufficiently constructive, it only needs to be reasonably believed that a punishment will help promote the development of personhood. It need not guarantee it. While much more remains to be said regarding constructive punishment and personhood, I submit that this discussion is sufficient to establish that an account of reconciliation that includes constructive punishment is indeed consistent with an ethic based on normative personhood. This is important because it lays the groundwork for establishing that a theory of the Atonement based on the normative personhood can indeed include punishment, provided that it is constructive. 7.6  The Death Penalty and Personhood Recall that in Section 4.2, I explained that the death penalty is almost universally rejected in the African moral tradition. I will not rehearse the details as to why that is the case here. Rather, in this section, I examine whether justification that is structurally similar to Metz’s can also be used to reject the death penalty on an ethic based on normative personhood. Recall that Metz defends two principles which imply that the death penalty is (almost always) impermissible. The first is: U1: An act is wrong if it involves substantial discord [A]—unless the discord is directed to a discordant agent and is reasonably foreseen as necessary and sufficient to protect those threatened by a proportionate degree of his discordance [B]. (Metz 2010, 92) U1 is plainly consistent with normative personhood. An act that promotes discord can reasonably be interpreted as one that exercises other-regarding vices in the context of community. Sowing discord in one’s community is done by acting as a mere animal or sub-human. It is reasonable to conduct an action that is normally vicious if it is done so in order to protect oneself or others from viciousness. In other words, it is possible to reinterpret U1 on a personhood ethic by thinking of discordance in terms of otherregarding vice. Thus, U1 can be reread as the following: U1: An act is wrong if it involves substantial viciousness [A]—unless the viciousness is directed to an agent acting viciously in his community and is reasonably foreseen as necessary and sufficient to protect those threatened by a proportionate degree of his viciousness [B]. (Modified from Metz 2010, 92)

100  Other African Theories of the Atonement The second principle that Metz employs which entails the impermissibility of the death penalty involves the concept of dignity: U2: An act is wrong (at least in part) because it degrades the individual’s dignity that she has in virtue of her capacity to engage in harmonious relationships. (Metz 2010, 94) As with U1, this can also be reinterpreted to cohere with personhood. Though normative personhood in the African tradition does not usually focus on the idea of dignity or rights, most accounts are consistent with such ideas. Furthermore, borrowing from Metz’s capacity for friendliness approach, one novel way to ground dignity on personhood is to say that humans have dignity in virtue of having the capacity to develop personhood. This nicely explains why non-human animals do not have (the same amount of) dignity as humans. They lack the capacity for normative personhood. This view reinterprets U2 along the following lines: U2: An act is wrong (at least in part) because it degrades the individual’s dignity that she has in virtue of her capacity to develop her personhood. (Modified from Metz 2010, 94) I believe this suffices to demonstrate that there are structurally similar reasons for rejecting the death penalty on normative personhood to the ones offered by Metz in the context of his own African ethic. Remember that my discussion of the impermissibility of the death penalty is in the context of raising it as an objection to the Atonement. If the death penalty is morally impermissible, then there is a serious challenge to the moral permissibility of the Atonement. How can such an important Christian doctrine be based on an act that is immoral? I submit that just as the problem can be raised in a structurally similar way to how I raised it in Section 4.2, a solution that is structurally similar to the one I offer in Section 4.3 is available to the proponent of personhood too. Metz’s principles, if true, technically only show that the death penalty is almost always impermissible because there are two counterexamples to them. Or more carefully, there are at least two exceptions to them. Remember that the first example is that if executing a murderer would bring their murder victim back to life, then executing them is probably justified. For the execution would be restoring the direct victim of the crime. In Section 4.3, I argue that this is precisely what the execution of Christ purports to achieve. It restores the broken relationship between humanity and God, and also the relationship amongst humans.

A Personhood Theory of the Atonement  101 The Atonement constitutes an example of this type of counterexample or exception to Metz’s principles when examining it from an ethic based on normative personhood too. On normative personhood, executing a murderer is permissible if it brings back their victim because it is a proportionate amount of viciousness. Consider that in the Atonement, Christ takes on all of humanity’s sin, past, present, and future. This includes the untold number of murders and other violent crimes. This sin has indeed caused a kind of death in creating a spiritual gulf between humanity and God. This is one of the worst, if not the worst, things that a human can experience. This kind of spiritual death is far worse than a bodily death, if in fact Christianity is true. That this type of death could be conquered such that (the possibility for) harmony between God and humans is restored, appears to justify the viciousness of it. Remember too that it is a separate question whether it is reasonable to believe that Jesus can take the blame for humanity’s sin. In this section, I am simply assuming that Jesus can in fact take the blame for humanity’s sin. So the question here is whether the viciousness involved in executing Jesus can be justified. I submit that it is acceptable because in a very important sense it does restore the type of death that is the result of sin. The Atonement therefore constitutes an exception to Metz’s principles, including when the African conception of normative personhood is assumed. 7.7  Divine Relational Rescue and Personhood Recall that in Chapter 5 I argue that the Moral Objection is the problem for the Relational Theory of the Atonement (Section 5.2). Indeed, the problem does not dissipate when considering it on an ethic grounded in normative personhood. Sally acts like a non-person or mere animal when she murders Ahmed. She exercises other-regarding viciousness in hurting not only Ahmed but also the entire community of which she and Ahmed are a part. Intuitions about guilt do not seem to change with normative personhood in view. It is Sally who has acted like an animal and created disharmony in her community; it is Sally who is guilty.7 It is Sally who must engage in reconciliation with the victims of her wrong (i.e., Ahmed’s friends and family). I take it as uncontroversial that the Moral Objection is still very much a problem on normative personhood and leave it to others to say otherwise. I therefore spend the rest of the section examining whether my solution to this problem in the form of Divine Relational Rescue can be modified such that it can also apply to a Personhood Account of the Atonement. Recall that my solution to this problem for the Relational Theory of the Atonement began with a discussion of relational shame in Section 5.2. The question that needs to be answered is how an innocent party can

102  Other African Theories of the Atonement appropriately take the blame for a guilty party. How can Moriah, if she is innocent, take the blame and subsequent punishment for Sally’s crime? In Section 6.4, I hypothesised that the moral intuitions behind the Moral Objection may well be less strong when examined from the perspective of any version of African Communitarianism. In the context of Part I, however, I focused on explicating my ideas of relational shame in terms of friendliness. There I argued that if Moriah is part of Sally’s community, and closely identifies with her, then it is appropriate that she experiences shame at Sally’s wrongdoing. This account of relational shame is the foundation for Relational Rescue. A similar type of relational shame also plausibly exists on normative personhood. Remember that personhood is something that exists in the context of community. When someone acts like a mere animal, they do so in relation to other people. When someone exhibits personhood, they do so in the context of a community. Nelson Mandela could not have ­exhibited personhood in a vacuum. He exhibited it within the context of his community, by recommending black South Africans forgo retribution, etc. Since personhood exists within the context of one’s community, it makes sense to think that relational pride and shame can be felt on behalf of others in one’s community. South Africans were right to feel pride that Mandela won the 1993 Nobel Peace Prize for ending apartheid as peacefully as possible. Since personhood exists in the context of community, if Moriah and Sally are part of the same community, then they are right to feel pride and shame based on each other’s actions. When Sally murders Ahmed she acts like a mere animal, and it is reasonable for Moriah to feel shame on behalf of Sally, given that they are part of the same community. Just as a parent rightly feels shame if their child acts like a nonhuman or animal, so too is it appropriate for Moriah to feel shame for Sally’s act. This also ­demonstrates why it is reasonable for a parent to offer an ­apology on behalf of their child or for Moriah to apologise on behalf of Sally to her victims. Notice that this is so even if the person who feels shame for the actions of one’s community is not responsible for the wrongdoing. If on a normative personhood ethic, it is reasonable for Moriah to feel shame because of Sally’s actions, then by parity of reasoning offered in Section 5.4, she can also take the blame for Sally’s crime. This is the case even if she is not responsible and hence technically not guilty for it. Again, personhood is developed in the context of community. To act as a mere animal is to exercise other-regarding vice. Part of my argument in Section 5.4 is that I simply cannot see a principled reason why Moriah could rightly feel shame on behalf of Sally while it is simultaneously unreasonable for her to take on constructive punishment on behalf of Sally. This discussion

A Personhood Theory of the Atonement  103 leads to the following account of Relational Rescue, adjusted to fit with personhood: Agent A undertakes the reconciliatory process on behalf of Agent B iff: (i) A is in a communal relationship with B such that they are both able to exercise and/or develop their personhood within that relationship; (ii) A feels shame on account of B’s negative actions, where B acts like an animal; (iii) A wishes to exhibit solidarity with B’s victims, and doing so develops their personhood; (iv) A freely makes a public apology and public disavowal of B’s wrongdoing; (v) A freely undertakes the punishment for B; and (vi) the punishment A receives is constructive for B such that it compensates B’s victims and provides circumstances that are likely to reform B’s character, which means it is likely to help them develop other-regarding virtues.8 Again, as already mentioned, Relational Rescue does not imply that A is morally responsible for B’s action. However, in virtue of being part of the same community, such that they can develop (or fail to develop) their personhood with each other, it is evident that normative personhood is also consistent with Relational Rescue. The last step in this section is to see whether these ideas can be successfully leveraged into an account of Divine Relational Rescue that is also consistent with normative personhood. I will refrain from providing the same level of detail as what I offer in Section 5.5, primarily because I believe it is relatively straightforward to demonstrate how Divine Relational Rescue works on personhood. Each condition of Relational Rescue applies to the Atonement. With respect to (i), Christ is part of the human community such that he is able to exercise personhood within it. Regarding (ii), it is appropriate that Christ feel shame on behalf of humans given he is part of the community. Condition (iii) also obtains on a personhood ethic. Christ develops his own personhood (or if his personhood is necessarily maximised in virtue of his divine nature, then he at least expresses it), in desiring to exhibit solidarity with humanity’s victims. As stated in Section 3.7, God is not a typical victim in the sense that she is not somehow weakened by humanity’s sin. But she does wish to be reconciled with humanity. Likewise, humans are in a way the victim of their own and each other’s sin. They experience separation from God and struggle to develop their own personhood amongst other humans. Regarding (v), this condition obtains in precisely the same way as in my Relational Theory of the Atonement. Any puzzles that arise about whether Christ acts freely given his divine nature or the fact that he submits to the will of God the father are not unique

104  Other African Theories of the Atonement to the Personhood Theory of the Atonement. Finally, (vi) is met on this account because the punishment is indeed constructive inasmuch as reflecting on Christ’s ­sacrifice prompts character reform in the rest of humanity. It should prompt a decided commitment to honour God by practising other-regarding virtues, which can only be practised amongst other people. Each condition of Relational Rescue as reinterpreted with normative personhood in view obtains on the Atonement. Therefore, Divine Relational Rescue obtains, and the Personhood Theory of the Atonement is able to solve the Moral Objection. 7.8  An Objection: Personhood and the Incarnation In this section, I explicate what I believe to be one of the most promising objections to the Personhood Theory of the Atonement. This objection says that a theory of the Atonement cannot appeal to African normative personhood because it generates too many problems for the hypostatic union which says that Jesus is both fully God and fully human.9 Though expositors of personhood clearly affirm the idea that some humans have more personhood than others, they don’t typically indicate whether personhood can be maximised. Instead, they stress that personhood must be developed in the context of community, often expounding on just what amounts to such virtues. Questions arise when considering the incarnation in the context of a personhood ethic. Does Christ have the maximal amount of personhood? Is there even a maximal amount such that this question is coherent? Now, the proponent of personhood might be tempted to respond that while they don’t speak in terms of maximisation, they certainly affirm the idea of moral exemplars. For example, theorists cite Nelson Mandela as exhibiting a high degree of personhood that people should strive to imitate. However, if Jesus is fully God, it’s unclear whether this response is a satisfying answer. If Jesus is fully God, then Jesus should have a much higher level of personhood than even the likes of Mandela, instead of being placed in the same category of him as a mere human exemplar of personhood. Supposing personhood can be maximised, problems remain. Personhood is something that is developed over time. This is why Menkiti says it’s possible to speak of a young math genius, but it makes little sense to speak of a young moral genius. Young persons haven’t had enough experience practising other-regarding virtues in their community to become moral experts. This appears to imply that Jesus could not have had the maximal amount of personhood, especially not as a child. Indeed, the age of death that most historians and biblical scholars assign to Jesus is 33 years of age. I suspect that in most indigenous African societies, while 33 years of age does not make one a moral infant, it is still far too young to be considered a moral

A Personhood Theory of the Atonement  105 exemplar with the maximal amount of personhood. Yet if Jesus is fully God, it is intuitively implausible to say there was a time when Jesus lacked the maximal amount of personhood. Likewise, even setting aside the deity of Christ, it is implausible to describe Jesus as morally perfect throughout the course of his entire life if he lacked maximal personhood. One response a defender of the Personhood Theory of the Atonement might be tempted to make is to simply stipulate that Christ has (indeed was born with), the maximal amount of personhood possible in virtue of the hypostatic union. Perhaps they also stipulate that this occurs even if it doesn’t otherwise make sense to speak of a maximum amount of personhood. However, such a solution is ad hoc. This is because it is proposed and added to the account for the sole purpose of addressing this objection. Though ad hoc solutions are not necessarily implausible simply in virtue of being ad hoc, there does seem to be a genuine problem with this sort of reply in this context. For the idea that personhood takes a lot of time and energy to develop is a central component of virtually every account of normative personhood offered in the African moral tradition. So, this sort of ad hoc response is not a kind of neutral addition to the theory. It is in direct tension with a key aspect of personhood. While I don’t consider this to be a decisive objection to the Personhood Theory of the Atonement, I hope that proponents of personhood who are attracted to this theory will spend time and energy addressing this concern. 7.9 A Tentatively Complete Personhood Theory of the Atonement I am now in a position to offer a tentatively complete Personhood Theory of the Atonement: • The life, death, and passion of Christ serves to allow humans (the ­opportunity) to develop their personhood in the context of their community that first and foremost includes God, but also includes all other humans. • Christ exhibits an extremely high level of personhood in sacrificing himself for the liveliness of the rest of the world (i.e., he acts as a paradigmatic moral exemplar). • This act of personhood solves the backward-looking problem in dealing with sin, and also addresses the forward-looking problem in changing the human tendency to act like a sub-person or animal. • The Atonement is an act of reconciliation and as such includes public disavowal and public apology, but also constructive punishment that restores and increases the personhood of victims and makes likely that the wrongdoer will also develop their personhood.

106  Other African Theories of the Atonement • The death penalty is appropriately constructive because it offers ­restoration and reconciliation by creating the conditions for harmonious relationship between humanity and God, thereby offering a way to restore and increase personhood (in the context of community) • Christ acts as a substitute for humanity by undertaking Divine Relational Rescue, which means he feels shame for humanity’s sins in virtue of being part of the human community. He also feels empathy for the victims, and seeks to restore and develop their personhood in the context of community. Ideally, any proposed theory of the Atonement should meet the desiderata I set out in Section 1.7: • It must be consistent with my Theological Assumption. • It must be broadly consistent with the Christian tradition, including the Apostle’s Creed and the Nicene Creed. • It must offer a solution to both the backward-looking and forwardlooking problems of sin. • It must explain how torturing and executing an innocent person is morally permissible. • It must account for the intuition that an innocent person cannot, all else being equal, be held responsible for the wrongs of another person. • While it must take seriously the needs of individuals, it must also take seriously (as at least equally important) the health of the entire community. I submit that the Personhood Theory of the Atonement probably meets my desiderata for a successful theory. Remember that the theory I develop in this chapter follows a similar structure to Part II, covering much of the same topics. This means that if the Relational Theory of the Atonement meets the desiderata, then so too should this theory. Again, if one wonders why in light of this fact I prefer my theory to the one developed in this chapter, remember that I do so because Metz’s Moral Relational Theory serves as the foundation for it. And I believe that this is the best moral theory with an African pedigree, a claim I make no attempt to defend in this book. 7.10 Conclusion In this chapter, I developed a theory of the Atonement based on African normative personhood. There are two aspects in which I followed the general structure of Part I. The first is that the sections in this chapter roughly

A Personhood Theory of the Atonement  107 correspond to the order and topics of the chapters in Part I. The second is that I sought to build a Personhood Theory of the Atonement that is structurally similar to my Relational Theory of the Atonement. I thus sought to modify and reinterpret my theory in light of a personhood ethic. This chapter constitutes an initial model of the Atonement based on personhood. I hope that proponents of personhood will begin to explore and further develop these ideas. Notes 1 Its influence is evidenced by the fact it has been reprinted in numerous places, has been cited numerous times, is the subject of special issues and anthologies, and appears on virtually every syllabus for introductory courses to African philosophy. For two examples, a recent issue of Filosofia Theoretica is dedicated to discussing Menkiti’s account of personhood (see 2018, vol. 7 iss. 2). Likewise, Menkiti’s work is also the theme of a recent anthology (see Etieyibo and Ikuenobe 2020). 2 In his most recent and final statement on personhood, Menkiti further clarifies his position on rights (2018). He says that “[a]n entity must first be morally situated before there can be a follow through regarding the bestowal of this or that moral right” (Menkiti 2018, 163). 3 For example, another person who holds the radical view and is perhaps at least part of the inspiration for Menkiti is the African historian and religious scholar John Mbiti. See Mbiti 1975. 4 The first place that Gyekye criticises Menkiti on personhood is in his now famous chapter, “Person and Community in African Thought” (1992). However, his slightly more recent and more comprehensive statement on this issue can be found in Chapter 2 of his now classic book, Tradition and Modernity: Philosophical Reflections on the African Experience (1997). 5 While there are many substantive philosophical questions regarding these competing conceptions of personhood, they have also been the subject of debates about how to interpret them. For example, see Eze and Metz 2016; Molefe 2018. 6 For discussion about how the African tradition could help Christian understandings of virtue, see Aihiokhai 2022. 7 For more details of the problem, see 5.2. 8 The italics highlight differences between this account the original one I offer in 5.4. 9 In 8.8, I raise a structurally similar objection to the Life Force Theory of the Atonement.

References Aihiokhai, SimonMary Asese. (2022). “A Comparative Theological Approach to Virtue Ethics: Making Space for an African Perspective. Filosofia Theoretica 11 (2): 1–12. Etieyibo, Edwin and Ikuenobe, Polycarp (ed). (2020). Menkiti on Community and Becoming a Person. Lanham, MD: Lexington Books.

108  Other African Theories of the Atonement Eze, Michael and Thaddeus Metz. (2016). “Emergent Issues African Philosophy: A Dialogue with Kwasi Wiredu.” Philosophia Africana 17: 73–86. Gyekye, Kwame. (1992). “Person and Community in African Thought.” In Person and Community: Ghanaian Philosophical Studies, 1, Wiredu, Kwasi and Gyekye, Kwame (eds), Washington, DC: Council for Research in Values and Philosophy. pp. 101–122. Gyekye, Kwame. (1997). Tradition and Modernity: Philosophical Reflections on the African Experience. New York: Oxford University Press. Menkiti, Ifeanyi A. (1984). “Person and Community in African Traditional Thought.” In African Philosophy: An Introduction, 3rd ed., Wright, Richard A. (ed), Lanham, MD: University Press of America. pp. 171–181. Menkiti, Ifeanyi A. (2004). “On the Normative Conception of a Person.” In A Companion to African Philosophy, Wiredu, Kwasi (ed), Hoboken, NJ: Blackwell Publishing Ltd. Menkiti, Ifeanyi A. (2018). “Person and Community – A Retrospective Statement.” Filosofia Theoretica 7 (2): 162–167. Metz, Thaddeus. (2010). “Human Dignity, Capital Punishment, and an African Moral Theory: Toward a New Philosophy of Human Rights.” Journal of Human Rights 9: 81–99. Metz, Thaddeus. (2012). “Ethics in Africa and in Aristotle: some points of ­contrast.” Phronimon 13 (2): 99–117. Molefe, Mostamai. (2018). An African Philosophy of Personhood, Morality, and Politics. Cham: Palgrave Macmillan.

8 A Life Force Theory of the Atonement

8.1 Introduction In this chapter, I develop a theory of the Atonement based on an African ethic grounded in life force. As with the previous chapter, my purpose is to explore whether the key components of my Relational Theory of the Atonement can reasonably be applied to another major African moral theory. Again, as with Chapter Seven, the sections in this chapter follow the basic structure of Part II. I begin by expounding the ethical thought based on the idea of life force, quite probably the oldest basis of morality on the African continent (Section 8.2). I then show what sin amounts to on a life force ethic (Section 8.3) and offer an initial statement of a Life Force Theory of the Atonement (Section 8.4). I proceed to explore whether the major components of my Relational Moral Theory can be successfully modified in order to fit with a theory of the Atonement grounded in a life force ethic. I thus explore constructive punishment and life force (Section 8.5), the permissibility of the death penalty given life force (Section 8.6), and whether life force can make sense of Divine Relational Rescue (Section 8.7). As I did with personhood in the previous chapter, I conclude that the main pieces of the Relational Moral Theory can indeed be successfully modified in order to make use of an ethic based on life force. I conclude by responding to the pressing objection which says that life force is incompatible with Christianity and therefore cannot be used as the basis for a theory of the Atonement (Section 8.8), before offering a tentatively complete Life Force Theory of the Atonement (Section 8.9). 8.2  Life Force as Moral Theory A common belief in many African societies is that everything, both animate and inanimate objects, are imbued with an imperceptible energy known as life force (e.g., Anyanwu 1984; Dzobo 1992; Mulago 1991; Tempels 1959). While belief in life force is certainly not universal, it does play a significant role in the morality of many Africans DOI: 10.4324/9781003412878-10

110  Other African Theories of the Atonement living below the Sahara. Throughout this chapter, I will speak of life force as a moral theory, even though it is fair to say it has been studied far more from a social scientific perspective than systematised as a theory by moral philosophers. The reason for this is likely twofold. First, life force is an important feature of Traditional African Religion, the major monotheistic religion that has mostly been ignored by philosophers living outside of the African continent.1 The religious and cultural practices of indigenous Africans have occupied much of the attention of social scientists, with less theoretical or conceptual analysis taking place. Second, I submit that contemporary African moral philosophy (since the 1960s) has for the most part been secular, and thus consistent with metaphysical naturalism. I will not speculate why this is the case, but in discussions of personhood or harmonious relationships, appeals to God or other robust metaphysical concepts are rarely made. Since life force is perhaps inherently religious, many accounts of it tend to be merely descriptive. My reason for offering this explanation is that some who are familiar with the African moral tradition may find it strange to speak of life force qua moral theory in the way contemporary professional philosophers tend to think of moral theories. However, I believe that it is a relatively straightforward matter to understand life force as a moral theory. Indeed, Metz (2022, Chapter 5) takes the first steps towards doing so in exploring a naturalistic version of life force he calls liveliness. In this chapter, I will keep the more ontologically robust version of life force as I have already examined two theories in Metz’s friendliness and personhood morality that are consistent with metaphysical naturalism. Furthermore, there are interesting and unique features of a life force theory of the Atonement that includes the metaphysics of Traditional African Religion. What is life force as moral theory? To begin, it is noteworthy that all life force comes from God. God has the highest amount of life force, followed by spirits, departed ancestors, humans, non-human animals, all the way down to inanimate objects such as rocks. Life force thereby grounds what is known as the African ‘hierarchy of being.’ In summarising many of the descriptions of life force, Metz explains that “[i]nstead of a person’s quality of life being what matters morally [… it] is rather life itself insofar as it is strong, complex, creative, or the like” (Metz 2022, 77). Furthermore, he says that much of the descriptive work on life force “suggest[s] the principle that an act is right just insofar as it produces, protects, and develops vitality, and wrong to the degree that it ends life, fails to protect it, and causes degeneration” (Metz 2022, 77).2 While life force represents the self much in the same way as an immaterial soul, it is expected to cease to exist eventually, typically when one’s living family members forget the deceased person. Descriptions of life force: [T]end to say that human beings are good in some way for exhibiting a superlative degree of health, strength, growth, reproduction, creativity,

A Life Force Theory of the Atonement  111 complexity, vibrancy, activity, self-motion, courage, and confidence. Or they characterize undesirable states as reductions of vitality understood as disease, weakness, decay, barrenness, destruction, disintegration, lethargy, passivity, submission, insecurity, and depression. (Metz 2022, 80) Though there is some debate about this, I will take the goal of morality on this view to be to preserve and promote the life force not just in others but also in oneself too (Metz 2022, 81). Though life force can be developed as a deontological theory such that life force explains why persons ought to be respected, etc., it tends to be construed in teleological terms such that the goal of morality is to pursue liveliness. On this approach, community is instrumentally valuable inasmuch as it helps one to promote life (Metz 2022, 83).3 Discord and strife within a community tend to denigrate the life force of the members of that community. Finally, Metz observes that: Bujo is well known for having argued that a certain kind of communing is expected to provide knowledge of which norms would enhance vital force. When people, or at least elders, come together to deliberate and seek consensus about how to proceed, they are, so Bujo contends, particularly likely to discover those practices that would realize the ‘common growth of the people’ and the ‘promotion of life’ at the societal level. (Metz 2022, 84)4 From this summary, the following moral principles for an ethic based on life force can be inferred: • An action is right (or permissible or perhaps recommended) inasmuch as it preserves and promotes the life force in oneself and in those of one’s community. • An action is wrong (or impermissible or not recommended) inasmuch as it fails to protect and degrades the life force in oneself and in those of one’s community. • People are intrinsically valuable because they have life force which is ultimately derived from God. My purpose here is not to evaluate life force as a moral theory, but to show how it might shed light on the Christian doctrine of the Atonement. 8.3  Life Force and Sin The first theological insight that can be gleaned from life force is how it might help the Christian to understand sin. On this understanding, the

112  Other African Theories of the Atonement problem with sin is that it is degrading to one’s life. The consequences of sin are separation from God, who is at the top of the African chain of being and the giver of life force. This leads to depression, lethargy, ­hopelessness, etc. Notice too that life force coheres with the Christian doctrine that all of creation is fallen, not just humans. In Genesis 3, much of God’s curse to humankind can be understood in terms of life force: To the woman he said, “I will surely multiply your pain in childbearing; in pain you shall bring forth children. Your desire shall be contrary to your husband, but he shall rule over you.” And to Adam he said, “Because you have listened to the voice of your wife and have eaten of the tree of which I commanded you, ‘You shall not eat of it,’ cursed is the ground because of you; in pain you shall eat of it all the days of your life; thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you; and you shall eat the plants of the field. By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread, till you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; for you are dust, and to dust you shall return. (Genesis 3:16–19) That the consequences of sin are that all of creation is fallen, including the natural world, coheres with what Christians understand as the effects of sin. This account is further augmented by Laurenti Magesa’s suggestion that within the African tradition, sin is perhaps better understood as ‘wrongdoing’ or the ‘destruction of life’ (1997, 161). Magesa’s point is that sin is sometimes an abstract concept, where the African moral consciousness tends to be much more pragmatic. Instead, wrong actions tend to come from bad people. He writes that [i]n African Religion, sin is always attached to a wrongdoer and, ultimately, the wrongdoer is a human person. The sense here, then, is that sin and evil do not and cannot exist in human experience except as perceived in people. It is people who are evil or sinful, whether or not they are aided by invisible forces. (Magesa 1997, 162) Shifting this emphasis to focus more on actions is perfectly consistent with the description I’ve offered so far. The fact that people are bad and their actions are wrong is something that requires Atonement.

A Life Force Theory of the Atonement  113 8.4  An Initial Life Force Theory of the Atonement Based on the above description, here is an initial statement of the Life Force Theory of the Atonement: • The life, death, and passion of Christ serves to restore and promote the life force of humanity (and the rest of the natural world). • Christ exhibits an extremely high level of life force in sacrificing himself for the liveliness of the rest of the world. • This act of promoting life force solves the backward-looking problem in dealing with sin, and also addresses the forward-looking problem in changing the human tendency towards the degradation of life force. In the rest of this chapter, I examine the degree to which this theory can cohere with the Relational Moral Theory of the Atonement. In places where they seem at odds, I examine whether life force can offer its own unique answers to questions about the Atonement. 8.5  Constructive Punishment and Life Force As noted in Section 3.2, African theories of justice tend to endorse versions of reconciliation that reject punishment. I explained a model of reconciliation from Metz that is plausibly construed as African but includes the idea of punishments that are constructive because they are burdensome, compensate the victim, and are likely to contribute to character reform. This was in the context of showing how punishment could be justified on Metz’s Moral Relational Theory, the theory that grounds my analysis of the Atonement in Part I. The question I address in this section is whether constructive punishment can be consistent with an ethic primarily based on life force. To begin, consider what life force likely indicates about the permissibility of the two primary Western approaches in protectionist and retributive theories of justice (Section 3.4). Initially, it might be tempting to believe that life force fits well with protectionist theories of justice. Whatever punishment increases the life force for the most people, including victims, is the one that should be doled out. But this assessment is to wrongly push Western attitudes, particularly of those who embrace utilitarianism, onto African thought. It’s difficult to defend protectionist theories of justice, at least how they are typically enacted in the West. That each person has a life force explains why they have inherent dignity or rights. Furthermore,

114  Other African Theories of the Atonement consider that life force does not equal ‘pleasure’ or ‘happiness.’ On many African understandings, a person’s life force would not actually be increased by seeing their abuser locked away, tortured, or executed. While an abuser wrongly degrades the life force of their victim, it would be a further diminishment of the victim’s life force for failing to be reconciled to their wrongdoer, especially if they were provided with an opportunity to do so. On this view, protecting the life force of a victim means enacting reconciliation. Restoring a harmonious relationship between a wrongdoer and their victim is what increases the life force in both parties. A protectionist theory of justice fits well with a life force ethic only if ‘protection’ is interpreted through the lens of what actions African societies typically ­consider preserve and increase life force. It is doubtful this is compatible with how protectionist theories are usually envisioned in the Western tradition since they are not about promoting reconciliation between the two parties. Retribution theory is the other main Western theory of justice that I explored in the context of showing why reconciliation ought to be preferred (Section 3.4). Recall that one problem with this theory includes the idea that there is no in principle reason for respecting the inherent dignity of offenders such that some punishments are impermissible. Nothing in the theory forbids maiming those who maim or raping those who rape. As already stated, not only does a life force ethic favour reconciliatory forms of justice, but such an ethic intuitively forbids certain types of punishments since every human is inherently valuable in virtue of having life force. Given that each person has at least some amount of life force (even if they’ve diminished it through acting immorally), and that life force ultimately stems from God, it is impermissible to treat persons in certain ways no matter what they have done. In other words, a life force ethic prohibits torturing a torturer or raping a rapist because they have an inherent dignity grounded in life. Perhaps the most significant problem with a retributive theory grounded in a principle such as ‘eye for an eye’ is that it doesn’t permit that a first-time offender who is genuinely remorseful should be treated differently from a repeat offender with a hardened heart who has committed the same wrong 100 times. In particular, on a life force ethic, if an offender is truly sorry that would likely be considered the first step towards reconciliation with the victim. Furthermore, retributive punishments are impermissible because they degrade the life force of an offender and do so for reasons other than of self or other defence. Degrading the life force of an offender does not directly protect the life force of their victim; for their life force has already been diminished by the offense. Reconciliation is the most appropriate way to restore it. Protectionist and retributive theories of justice do not cohere well with an ethic based on life force. Unsurprisingly, life force fits best with

A Life Force Theory of the Atonement  115 reconciliatory approaches to justice that focus on restoring the relationship between the offender and their victim, thereby improving the relational health of the community. But what about the type of reconciliation to which I appeal in Part II that says constructive punishments ought to be part of genuine reconciliation? I believe that Metz’s approach to reconciliation, and one necessary to make sense of the Atonement in African terms, does indeed cohere with a life force ethic. The best way to see this is that on reconciliation theory, punishments are not for the sake of retribution or protection. Instead, they are constructive, in facilitating reconciliation. This includes public apology and disavowal, but also burdensome labour that is intended to compensate the victim and, ideally, reform the character of the offender. These two latter components are important. It is intuitive that a sincere public apology to the victim, along with a disavowal of the act, and a commitment not to repeat the offense, is likely to increase the life force of the victim. Or, more carefully, it is reasonable to believe that it could do so for certain victims. So, it’s easy to see how these features of reconciliation that are part of Metz’s account of reconciliation, and also feature prominently in most other African theories of reconciliation, are consistent with an ethic based on life force. But it’s also plausible that the features unique to Metz’s reconciliation in constructive punishment also promote life force. Burdensome labour might not promote life force if the purpose behind it is retribution or protection, but it may well do so if the goal is reconciliation. The type of burdensome labour recommended by Metz is directly related to the type of wrong committed by the person. Undertaking the labour of becoming a neighbourhood security guard after burglarising houses is directly connected to the crime. This type of close connection between the labour and wrong committed are intended to prompt reflection and reform on the part of the wrongdoer. If part of the goal of this labour is to initiate positive character reform, then it is life-giving to the person compelled to undertake. Sometimes medicine that tastes bad is good for one’s health. Furthermore, the punishment is intended to compensate the victims of the wrong. Serving as the neighbourhood watch helps to protect the community that one wronged. If it succeeds in making community members safer, then it’s reasonable to think that this act increases their life force. In more extreme cases, where a victim has been so traumatised that they are unable to work and otherwise look after themselves, they should be financially compensated by their assailant. Again, this type of compensation at least makes an attempt to restore the life of the victim. Helping to restore the life force of their victim should, ideally, also help to increase the life force of the offender. Of course, none of these ideas are intended as a guarantee of increasing life force. Some offenders will be so hardened that even constructive

116  Other African Theories of the Atonement punishments will not have the effect of helping their life force. But this isn’t a problem that is unique when attempting to understand reconciliation on a life force ethic. Whether one is adopting Metz’s Relational Moral Theory, or an African personhood account of morality, it would remain the case that constructive punishments can only make certain outcomes likely but not guarantee them. I claim that I have done enough in this section to demonstrate that Metz’s approach to reconciliation, one that ­importantly includes constructive punishment, can indeed be made consistent with a life force ethic. This is significant because an interpretation of the Atonement based on a life force ethic must be able to justify punishment. 8.6  The Death Penalty and Life Force As noted in Section 4.2, the death penalty is virtually universally rejected by moral theorists working in the African tradition. Recall that though Metz objects to the usual African rationales for rejecting capital punishment offered by African theorists, he shows that his own moral theory also entails that the death penalty is (almost always) impermissible. I’m going to explore whether structurally similar arguments to the ones Metz offers against the death penalty based on friendliness can also be made on a life force ethic. Recall that Metz’s analysis of the death penalty results in the following principle: U1: An act is wrong if it involves substantial discord [A]—unless the discord is directed to a discordant agent and is reasonably foreseen as necessary and sufficient to protect those threatened by a proportionate degree of his discordance [B]. (Metz 2010, 92) On the face of it, U1 is clearly consistent with an ethic based on life force. Metz’s use of ‘discord’ is intended to imply ‘unfriendliness’; however it can reasonably be reinterpreted to fit with a life force ethic. Take ‘discord’ to mean a degradation of life force where a discordant agent is someone who intentionally degrades the life force of another agent. On this view, it is reasonable to use force in order to stop a discordant agent from degrading another person’s life force, provided that force is proportionate. So, on a life force ethic, U1 can be read along the lines of: U1: An act is wrong if it involves the substantial degradation of life force [A]—unless the degradation is directed to an agent who is degrading the life force of others and is reasonably foreseen as necessary and

A Life Force Theory of the Atonement  117 sufficient to protect those threatened by a proportionate degree of his discordance [B]. (Modified from Metz 2010, 92) When formulating a principle that incorporates dignity as a consideration against the death penalty recall that Metz writes: U2: An act is wrong (at least in part) because it degrades the individual’s dignity that she has in virtue of her capacity to engage in harmonious relationships. (Metz 2010, 94) Again, this can be straightforwardly reinterpreted to fit the view that dignity is grounded in the fact that each person has at least some life force which ultimately flows from God: U2: An act is wrong (at least in part) because it degrades the individual’s dignity that she has in virtue of her possessing life force which is ultimately derived from God. (Modified from Metz 2010, 94) So, this successfully shows that structurally similar reasons against the death penalty to the ones offered by Metz based on friendliness can also be offered on a life force ethic. Now, remember that all of this is in the context of raising a problem for the Atonement. If the death penalty is morally impermissible, then the Atonement represents an act that is immoral. It’s confusing, to say the least, that a doctrine as important to Christianity as the Atonement could be considered immoral. I submit, however, that just as the challenge to the death penalty can also be successfully raised based on a life force ethic, it can also be solved in a structurally similar way to the solution I offer in Section 4.3. Recall that in Section 4.3, I purport to solve this problem in the context of Metz’s Relational Moral Theory, along with his framework for rejecting the death penalty. I do this based on Metz’s admission that there are two types of potential exception cases where executing an offender is in fact permissible. The first is most relevant to my purposes and is based on the idea that if executing a murderer would bring their victims back to life, then executing them is indeed likely permissible. This is because in this instance the death penalty would restore the direct victim of the crime. In Section 4.3, I claim that this is just what the execution of Christ accomplishes. There is a sense in which Christ’s death brings a dead victim back to life, particularly inasmuch as separation from God is a kind of death.

118  Other African Theories of the Atonement It also restores human’s capacity for friendliness in being able to have a harmonious relationship with God first and foremost, but also with other people. Just as a structurally comparable challenge to the Atonement can be raised on a life force ethic, a structurally parallel solution is available. In fact, I believe that the solution to this challenge is even more compelling on an ethic that emphasises life as the fundamental feature of morality. Sin degrades a person’s life. On a life force ethic, it is quite literally a kind of death. Disharmony with God and fellow humans decreases one’s life force. Indeed, given that a harmonious relationship with God is a very great, if not the greatest good, a discordant relationship with God is plausibly one of the most, if not the most, dangerous thing that could degrade a person’s life force. Consider too, that life force is ultimately derived from God. To be in disharmony with God marks a kind of death in a much more literal way on this ethic than even on Metz’s friendliness approach. If the doctrine of the Atonement is true, then Christ’s death helps to restore harmony between God and humanity. In offering this reconciliation, it thereby restores the life force in people that is otherwise diminished. The Atonement therefore constitutes an exception to U1 on a life force ethic. Though neither harmonious relationships nor the capacity for such relationships are what grounds human dignity on a life force ethic, such relationships are still valuable. For they are part of what contributes to the protection and promotion of life force. It is life force itself that grounds dignity such that anything that helps protect and promote life force shows respect for human dignity. In helping to restore our ability to relate well with God and others, the Atonement increases our life force, and is thereby an act that shows respect for human dignity. The Atonement therefore constitutes an exception to U1 on a life force ethic. In sum, the challenge based on the impermissibility of the death penalty to a life force theory of the Atonement can be successfully answered by appealing to an analysis similar to the one I offer in Chapter Four. 8.7  Divine Rescue and Life Force In Chapter Six, I explained the serious Moral Objection to the Relational Theory of the Atonement. When thinking of morality in terms of life force, the strength of this objection remains just as strong. If Sally wrongly extinguishes Ahmed’s life force by murdering him in an unprovoked fit of rage, it is Sally who is guilty. Indeed, not only has Sally harmed Ahmed, but in failing to respect Ahmed as an equal member of the human community, Sally very likely diminishes her own life force. Furthermore, though Ahmed is Sally’s most direct victim, there are other victims too. The life force of Ahmed’s friends and family (i.e., his community) is diminished

A Life Force Theory of the Atonement  119 by his life being cut short in such a traumatic fashion.5 Though brief, this shows that the Moral Objection remains when analysing the Atonement in terms of life force. I now explore whether the solution that I propose for the Relational Theory of the Atonement can be successfully reformulated to apply to a life force theory of the Atonement. Recall my discussion of relational shame in Section 5.4. Part of the ­challenge is showing how an innocent party can intercede on behalf of a guilty person. If Moriah is innocent, how can she take the blame and subsequent punishment for Sally’s crime? Though these moral intuitions are strong in the West, I tried to show in Chapter Five that they are probably less strong in those who embrace any understanding of an African communitarian ethic. Now, though each of the major branches of African ethics is communal, I focused on explaining relational shame in terms of solidarity and identification, since those are the focal points of Metz’s Relational Moral Theory. If Moriah is part of Sally’s community such that she identifies with Sally’s life, then it’s plausible she experiences shame at Sally’s moral failures. This account of relational shame underpins my account of Relational Rescue. This account can also plausibly map onto a life force ethic. This is because it’s reasonable to think that one’s life force can be impacted by the moral successes and failures of the members of one’s community. For a person’s life force does not exist in a vacuum apart from their community. If Moriah is part of Sally’s community and so exhibits solidarity with her and identifies with her, then her life force will be diminished based on Sally’s moral failing. Moriah’s life force will also be diminished inasmuch as Sally’s crime diminishes the life force of other members of the community. In this way, every person’s life force is interconnected. If Ahmed’s friends and family have their life force diminished by his murder, this diminishment hurts Moriah too. It’s important to notice that, just as in the account I offer in Chapter Five, a person can feel shame (which perhaps is the mechanism that decreases their life force), even if they are not responsible for the wrong in question. If Moriah’s life force is diminished based on Sally’s action, then it is also reasonable to suppose by way of parity of reasoning to that offered in Section 5.5, that Moriah can take the blame for Sally. Moriah’s life force is diminished by Sally’s action, just as Sally diminishes her own life force by disrespecting Ahmed. Moriah’s life force is also diminished by being part of the community that experiences the consequences of Sally’s crime. In exhibiting solidarity with Ahmed’s family and friends, her life force will also be diminished. All of this suffices to show why it is appropriate for Moriah to make an apology on behalf of Sally. If one is still struggling to see this, consider that in the West, it’s not uncommon for a parent to apologise for the behaviour of their child.

120  Other African Theories of the Atonement As I say in Section 5.5, I cannot identify a principled reason why s­ omeone can feel shame for the actions of another person in their community, to the point of it being reasonable to apologise on their behalf but could then not undertake constructive punishment on their behalf. Furthermore, undertaking such a punishment will help to restore (some) of the strength of the life force of the victims. If Moriah undertakes the reconciliatory process on behalf of Sally, a process that includes constructive punishment, then she helps to restore the life force of Ahmed’s friends and family. Importantly, it would be the ideal if Ahmed’s life could be restored. This discussion invites the following account of Relational Rescue, the language of which is slightly adjusted to account for a life force ethic: Agent A undertakes the reconciliatory process on behalf of Agent B iff: (i) A is part of B’s community at least partially in virtue of having a life force which is ultimately derived from God. (ii) A feels shame on account of B’s negative actions such that A’s life force is diminished by B; (iii) A wishes to exhibit solidarity with B’s victims, thereby helping to restore their life force; (iv) A freely makes a public apology and public disavowal of B’s wrongdoing; (v) A freely undertakes the punishment; and (vi) the punishment A receives is constructive for B such that it compensates B’s victims (i.e., it helps to restore their life force) and provides circumstances that are likely to reform B’s character (i.e., it promotes the growth of B’s life force). Finally, as I also stated in the conclusion of Section 5.5, this does not imply that agent A is morally responsible for agent B’s actions. Given the interconnectedness of an individual’s life force to the life force of literally everything else, but particularly the human members of one’s community, it is unsurprising this ethic is also consistent with Relational Rescue. The final step to completing this solution is to show that Relational Rescue can specifically apply to the Atonement. Though I won’t add the same amount of detail to this account as can be found in Section 5.6, it is relatively simple to show that the Atonement meets the conditions for Relational Rescue when it is understood in terms of life force. Christ is part of the human community such that (i) is met. Christ has life force just as other humans do and is very much part of the human community. This means it is appropriate that Christ feels shame at humanity’s failure, so that (ii) obtains. Here is a way that a life force theory of the Atonement can help to make sense of what Christ experiences on the cross. In taking on the sins of humanity (past, present, and future), in exhibiting such a high degree of empathy and solidarity with humanity, Christ’s life force is incredibly diminished. The kind of interconnectedness implied by life force implies

A Life Force Theory of the Atonement  121 that Christ was connected by virtue of life force to every human past, present, and future. This is so overwhelming that it makes sense that his life force was greatly diminished on the cross and eventually his life was snuffed out entirely. (iii) is met because through the Atonement, Christ acts to restore the life force in people. A person’s life force is built back up if the opportunity for harmonious relationships is restored. Since the Atonement offers the possibility of a harmonious relationship with God (and others), it increases the life force in humans. As stated in Section 3.3, the Atonement is incredibly public, and I will not defend this point further. (v), the freedom condition, does not change on a life force analysis of relational rescue. Finally, (vi) is the requirement that the punishment be constructive, and I submit that this is met on the life force interpretation too. Christ’s sacrifice restores the life force of all of humanity in virtue of restoring the possibility for harmonious relationship with God, in addition to other people. As I state in Section 4.3, it’s reasonable to suppose that sufficiently reflecting on the Atonement is likely to promote a certain amount of character reform. This involves reflecting on the rescue that Christ undertakes on behalf of each and every person, including his torture and execution. Such character reform plausibly increases their life force throughout the course of their life. This is perhaps akin to what Christians often refer to as ‘spiritual growth.’ Each condition of Relational Rescue as understood through the lens of a life force ethic is met by the Atonement. Thus, Divine Relational Rescue obtains, and the life force theory of the Atonement has a successful solution to the Moral Objection. 8.8  An Objection: Life Force is Incompatible with Christianity In this section, I develop what I take to be the most pressing objection to a life force theory of the Atonement. This is the objection that any account of the Atonement grounded in a life force ethic fails because such an ethic is somehow, perhaps even fundamentally, incompatible with Christianity. Consider first life force and the incarnation. Does Christ have the maximal amount of life force possible for a human? Is there a maximal amount? Or, in virtue of his divinity, does Christ have the same amount of life force as God? A claim of this sort would strike the African as rather strange given that on Traditional African Religion God is very distant from humans. In light of this distance, God becoming incarnate is unlikely to make very much sense to the adherent of Traditional African Religion. Now, it might be responded that since Christianity and Traditional African Religion are distinct religions, and I am dealing with a Christian doctrine, this objection doesn’t apply to the life force theory of the Atonement. While this response is tempting, it is too quick. This is because

122  Other African Theories of the Atonement the account I’ve developed in this chapter based on a life force ethic implies the ontology of Traditional African Religion. Or it is at least an open question whether an ethic based on life force which posits that everything is imbued with an imperceptible, but very real and literally existing energy, can be separated from Traditional African Religion. If it cannot, then there are serious questions about the compatibility of Traditional African Religion’s ontology with Christianity. The incarnation is just the beginning of the various problems and puzzles that are likely to emerge. To see this, consider the third person of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit. Christians believe that the Holy Spirit quite literally comes to indwell in them, enabling them to live out an earthly life of grace. Just how the Holy Spirit purports to do this is mysterious enough in its own right. But on the picture described in this chapter, there is life force in addition to the Holy Spirit. It might be tempting to collapse life force and the Holy Spirit into the same thing, but this will not do. There is no indication in the Bible or Christian tradition more generally that literally everything that exists is imbued with the Holy Spirit in the same way that life force is said to pervade everything. Life force and the Holy Spirit, then, must somehow coexist together. This limits the view’s claim to parsimony, to say the least. Now, at the beginning of this chapter, I explained I would employ the traditional understanding of life force that posits an ontologically real substance because Metz’s Relational Moral Theory (Part I) and African personhood (see Chapter Seven) are both consistent with metaphysical naturalism. However, Metz explores the possibility of a secular theory of life force, known as liveliness (Metz 2022, Chapter 5). I won’t outline his tentative ideas here. Instead, I note that building a life force theory of the Atonement on a secular version of life force might be one way to avoid the numerous puzzles that will inevitably arise if a more robust ontology is used to ground life force. 8.9  A Tentatively Complete Life Force Theory of the Atonement I am now in a position to offer a more complete version of the Life Force Theory of the Atonement which includes the following: • The life, death, and passion of Christ serve to restore and promote the life force of humanity (and the rest of the natural world). • Christ exhibits an extremely high level of life force in sacrificing himself for the liveliness of the rest of the world. • This act of promoting life force solves the backward-looking problem in dealing with sin, and also addresses the forward-looking problem in changing the human tendency towards the degradation of life force.

A Life Force Theory of the Atonement  123 • The Atonement is an act of reconciliation and as such includes public disavowal and public apology, but also constructive punishment that restores and increases the life force of victims and makes character reform of the wrongdoer likely, which in turn will increase their life force. • The death penalty is appropriately constructive because it restores the victim by creating the conditions for a harmonious relationship between humanity and God, thereby offering a way to restore and increase life force. • Christ acts as a substitute for humanity by undertaking Divine Relational Rescue, which means he feels shame by humanity’s sins at least partly in virtue of the interconnectedness of having life force. He also feels empathy for the victims in virtue of that interconnectedness, therefore seeking to restore and increase their life force. Ideally, this theory will also meet the desiderata for a successful theory of the Atonement: • It must be consistent with my Theological Assumption. • It must be broadly consistent with the Christian tradition, including the Apostles Creed and the Nicene Creed. • It must offer a solution to both the backward-looking and forwardlooking problems of sin. • It must explain how torturing and executing an innocent person is morally permissible. • It must account for the intuition that an innocent person cannot, all else being equal, be held responsible for the wrongs of another person. • While it must take seriously the needs of individuals, it must also take seriously (as at least equally important) the health of the entire community. I submit that the life force theory of the Atonement plausibly meets my desiderata for a successful theory. The theory I develop in this chapter follows a similar structure to Part I, and therefore covers each of the same items. In this way if my Relational Theory of the Atonement meets the desiderata, then the Life Force Theory of the Atonement does too. If one wonders why I favour my Relational Theory, recall that I do so because I believe it is based on the most plausible ethical theory with an African pedigree (i.e., Metz’s Moral Relational Theory). But this is a claim that I don’t pretend to defend in this book. To close, proponents of a life force ethic should note two potential benefits of a life force theory of the Atonement that deserve further

124  Other African Theories of the Atonement exploration. The first is that since a life force ontology that posits quite literally ­everything has a life force and everything is interconnected, it goes a long way towards explaining relational shame and pride. A person’s life force rises and falls with the life of the members of their community. This strikes me as a particularly unique advantage in defending Relational Rescue or some such similar idea. Second, the doctrine of the Atonement is not the idea that only humans are restored to God. Traditional Christian doctrine says that all of creation is fallen. Thus, the Atonement restores all of creation, i.e., it restores everything that exists. Again, that literally everything has a life force appears to make the theory particularly well-suited to explaining how the Atonement restores all of God’s creation, not just humans. Both of these features deserve further exploration by those who are attracted to the Life Force Theory of the Atonement. 8.10 Conclusion The purpose of this chapter was to develop a theory of the Atonement which makes use of African moral thought grounded in life force. In this chapter, I followed the structure found in Part I in two different ways. First, the sections in this chapter follow roughly the same order of the chapters found in Part I. Second, I specifically attempted to develop a series of models and arguments that are structurally similar to the ones found in Part I. Though much more remains to be said, this chapter serves as an initial statement of a theory of the Atonement grounded in a life force ethic. I leave it to proponents of a life force ethic to develop the ideas found here more fully. Notes 1 I make no definitive claims about whether one could reject much of Traditional African Religion while affirming the existence of life force (or vice versa). However, given life force comes from God, some type of theistic belief seems necessary to support it. 2 See Dzobo 1992; Magesa 1997; and Bujo 1997, 2001, 2005. 3 See Onah 2012; Kasenene 1994; Magesa 1997. 4 See Bujo 1997 24–42, 161, 166; 2001, 45–71. 5 For more details of the problem see 5.2.

References Anyanwu, Chukwulozie K. (1984). “The Meaning of Ultimate Reality in Igbo Cultural Experience.” Ultimate Reality and Meaning 7: 84–101. Bujo, Bénézet. (1997). The Ethical Dimension of Community. Nganda, Cecilia Namulondo (tr.). Nairobi: Paulines Publications.

A Life Force Theory of the Atonement  125 Bujo, Bénézet. (2001). Foundations of an African Ethic: Beyond the Universal Claims of Western Morality. McNeil, Brian (tr.). New York: Crossroad Publishers. Bujo, Bénézet. (2005). “Differentiations in African Ethics.” In The Blackwell Companion to Religious Ethics, Schweiker, William (ed.), Malden, MA: Blackwell. pp. 423–437. Dzobo, Noah. (1992). “Values in a Changing Society: Man, Ancestors, and God.” In Person and Community; Ghanaian Philosophical Studies, I, Wiredu, Kwasi and Gyekye, Kwame (eds), Washington, DC: Council for Research in Values and Philosophy. pp. 223–240. Kasenene, Peter. (1994). “Ethics in African Theology.” In Doing Ethics in Context: South African Perspectives, Villa-Vicencio, Charles and de Gruchy, John (eds), Cape Town: David Philip. pp. 138–147. Magesa, Laurenti. (1997). African Religion: The Moral Traditions of Abundant Life. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books. Metz, Thaddeus. (2010). “Human Dignity, Capital Punishment, and an African Moral Theory: Toward a New Philosophy of Human Rights.” Journal of Human Rights 9: 81–99. Metz, Thaddeus. (2022). A Relational Moral Theory: African Ethics in and beyond the Continent. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Mulago, Vincent. (1991). “Traditional African Religion and Christianity.” In African Traditional Religions in Contemporary Society, Olupona, Jacob K. (eds), St. Paul, MN: Paragon House. Onah, Godfrey. (2012). “The Meaning of Peace in African Traditional Religion and Culture.” http://beeshadireed.blogspot.com/2012/08/the-meaning-of-peacein-african.html. Tempels, Placide. (1959). Bantu Philosophy, 2nd edn. Colin King (tr.). Paris: Présence Africaine.

9 Conclusion Just the Beginning for Comparative Philosophical Theology

9.1 Introduction The purpose of this book has not been to defend any particular theory of the Atonement as true. Instead, I have sought to develop the very best (i.e., the most plausible) theory of the Atonement that makes significant use of insights from contemporary African Communitarian ethics. I accomplished this by developing the Relational Theory of the Atonement which is based on what I take to be the most promising ethic with an African pedigree as found in Metz’s Moral Relational Theory (Part I). For those inclined to other major interpretations of African ethics, I also spent time considering theories of the Atonement based on normative personhood (Chapter Seven) and life force (Chapter Eight). In this chapter, I conclude the book by highlighting three areas for future research in (1) African thought and the Atonement; (2) comparative philosophical theology; and (3) comparative natural theology. 9.2  The Future of African Theories of the Atonement As stated throughout, I have not argued that the Relational Theory of the Atonement is in fact true. It is unclear to me how one could ever demonstrate a specific theory on a topic as wide-ranging as the Atonement is true. Still, there are likely those who are more optimistic about the prospect of such a task and, so, for them, arguing for the truth of this one or some other African-based theory of the Atonement is an obvious next project. Though more epistemologically modest than arguing for its truth, another still very ambitious project would be to argue that the Relational Theory of the Atonement is superior to all other major theories of the Atonement currently on offer. This could involve using a set of criteria by which to carefully evaluate the various theories against one another. When I began writing this book, I was very tempted to conduct this sort of project. However, I ultimately chose against doing so mostly for two pragmatic DOI: 10.4324/9781003412878-11

Conclusion  127 reasons. First, completing such a project properly would have taken me many years. The literature on the Atonement is enormous. Furthermore, the issues related to the Atonement span across numerous academic disciplines. There are scholars far better qualified than myself to conduct this type of wide-ranging evaluative project. Second, I believe that incorporating extended analysis of other theories of the Atonement into this book had the potential to detract attention away from my main goal of showing that African ethics has something important to offer to theorising about the Atonement. I therefore wanted to focus on theory construction. I readily admit that a partial result of this narrow focus is that many questions remain about how the Relational Theory of the Atonement fits into the wider literature on the topic. Sceptics about my project may object at this stage by asking questions about burden of proof. Since I have not argued that the Relational Theory of the Atonement is true, nor have I demonstrated in any detail that it is superior to other theories, why does any scholar working on the Atonement need to take it seriously? The answer is quite simply that the African intellectual tradition can (perhaps) be ignored if it wilfully operates in isolation from the Western academy (something I do not admit is actually the case). But I have written this book using a style that is palatable to philosophers working in the Western tradition, particularly in the Anglo-American or analytic tradition. I have drawn on resources in the African tradition to construct the Relational Theory of the Atonement. To observe that I have not argued that the theory is true or compared it in detail to the current ones on offer is not an objection either to the theory itself or the methodology I have employed to construct it. Remember that this book is only intended as a first step towards developing a theory of the Atonement with an African pedigree that is palatable to a global audience. It is not intended as a definitive or final statement. 9.3  The Future of Comparative Philosophical Theology I also hope that this book can serve as an example of one way of conducting research in comparative philosophical theology. I hope to have demonstrated that comparative philosophical theology is not merely about observing differences between different schools of thought. Instead, it can be employed in order to explore how different traditions not only sometimes create unique problems for each other’s ideas but also sometimes offer unique solutions to each other’s longstanding problems. A brief survey of some of the other Christian doctrines makes this clear. Consider the doctrine of the Trinity which says that God is three ­distinct persons – in the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit contained in one God. Philosophers and theologians have rightly puzzled over this doctrine

128  Other African Theories of the Atonement for centuries. How can one being simultaneously be (or contain) three ­distinct persons? It may be the case that the highly individualistic nature of Western culture makes this doctrine all the more difficult for the Western scholar to understand. Might there not be resources in the African intellectual tradition, where one’s individual flourishing is both more explicitly and intimately connected to one’s community, that could help shed light on this doctrine? It certainly seems to be worth exploring. What about the incarnation? What does it mean to say that Christ has two natures? How can someone be both fully God and fully human? Similar comments regarding the African intellectual tradition apply here too. This is to say nothing of other important topics such as sin nature, the divine attributes, and eschatology. All of these present various philosophical challenges, and it is an open question whether there are resources in the African tradition to address them. Of course, it is not as if African philosophers and theologians do not think about such topics. My point is that there is very clearly a dearth of scholarship that interacts with both Western and African ideas in thinking about such topics. Notice that while I have discussed African philosophy and Christian doctrine, it is easy to see how the topics of this sort of comparative work can be expanded. The specific doctrines in question could be expanded by exploring different religious traditions. Each religion, in different ways, has a set of commitments or doctrines that could be explored through the lens of the African intellectual tradition. Furthermore, successfully globalising Western philosophical theology means not only exploring insights from the African tradition but from the numerous other traditions, including those in Latin America, and central and east Asia, etc. In other words, comparative theology can be expanded both in terms of religious and philosophical traditions. 9.4  The Future of Comparative Natural Theology Similar points to those just made also apply to topics in natural theology such as the arguments for and against God’s existence. In the AngloAmerican philosophy of religion, such discussions are often heavily influenced by the Judeo-Christian conception of God, even when they claim to be religiously neutral. Furthermore, Western scholars typically consider the major monotheistic religions to consist of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. However, Traditional African Religion is monotheistic and is practised, in one form or another, by millions of Africans. It should rightly take its place as a major monotheistic religion on the global stage. However, this tradition posits a hierarchy of being, where God is incredibly distant and removed from humans. Consider how this contrasts starkly from many Christian understandings that say God seeks a close personal

Conclusion  129 relationship with each person. My reason for highlighting this difference is that it is just one example of how bringing Traditional African Religion into the conversation could change how arguments for atheism and theism are approached. For example, the problem of divine hiddenness trades on the idea that God should not be as hidden as she appears because God wants a relationship with each person. Yet if Traditional African Religion is correct, it is unsurprising if God is hidden, given that she is thought to be very distant from humans. My point in this section is to again draw out the fact that there are so many potential avenues for future comparative research. Again, I have only pointed to the African tradition. But as with philosophical theology, natural theology can be expanded in more than one way. Anglo-American philosophers of religion have been obsessed with theism, specifically monotheism in the mould of Judeo-Christianity. It would be incredibly surprising if there were not important philosophical insights to be gained from exploring not only other conceptions of monotheism but of other nonmonotheistic conceptions of the divine too. 9.5 Conclusion: Just the Beginning for the Comparative Philosophical Theology That there is so much interesting work in comparative philosophical theology remaining to be done makes it an exciting time to be working in the field. I submit that the discipline has never been more open to incorporating global perspectives than it is now.1 There is both good and bad news in this regard. The bad news is that expanding the field in this way can rightly feel like an incredibly overwhelming task. Philosophy, theology, and most other academic disciplines have become hyperspecialised. Whether this is good, bad, or neutral is irrelevant to the fact that this means it is increasingly difficult to have solid breadth and depth of knowledge in one’s entire field. Most philosophers working in the AngloAmerican tradition tend to specialise in one or two areas. And even this description is misleading. To say that a philosopher specialises in ‘ethics’ or ‘philosophy of religion’ does little to reflect the fact that they probably just work within one or two subtopics within their area. I have heard the pressure academics are under to publish ‘early and often’ described as an ‘arms race.’ These sociological comments about the discipline are merely intended to highlight the simple fact that it is incredibly difficult to expand one’s areas of expertise. Just consider the language learning required to genuinely expand one’s knowledge to many different nonWestern philosophical traditions. The bad news, then, is that at the level of the individual scholar, it is incredibly difficult to truly globalise one’s philosophical research.

130  Other African Theories of the Atonement The good news is news that anyone embracing African ­communitarianism should welcome. In order to manage the magnitude of work involved in globalising the discipline, philosophers must work together. Given the difficulty involved in mastering a truly global knowledge base, scholars need to rely on the expertise of one another. Such work needs to be crowdsourced, so to speak. I believe that this type of expansion is good because it is very likely that the Anglo-American tradition is missing out on important philosophical insights. In other words, there are epistemic benefits to expanding the discipline. Elsewhere, I have focused on defending this methodological approach to the philosophy of religion (Lougheed 2022). My wish is that in an indirect way, this book also serves as a defence of the desirability (if not obligation) to expand the Anglo-American philosophy of religion and philosophical theology. I, therefore, hope that the reader has come to appreciate the benefits of incorporating insights from a non-Western philosophical tradition simply by reading this book. This is so even if they have serious doubts about the Relational Theory of the Atonement itself. This book constitutes one small step towards globalising discussions of the Atonement, and in turn towards globalising philosophical theology, philosophy of religion, and philosophy in general. I look forward to seeing what scholars think of the Relational Theory of the Atonement, in addition to witnessing their own efforts to expand the field. Note 1 This is consistent with the claim that it needs to continue growing more open to such approaches.

Reference Lougheed, Kirk. (2022). “The Epistemic Benefits of Diversifying the Philosophy of Religion.” European Journal for Philosophy of Religion 14 (1): 77–94.

Index

alienation (also alienated) 20, 23, 25, 59 altruism 22 Anselmian interpretation 8–10, 15, 31, 42 Aristotelianism 95 atheism 129 Christian (also Christianity) 1, 3, 7, 11– 13, 15, 33, 51–52, 54, 58, 71, 74–76, 78, 83–84, 86, 95–96, 100–101, 106–107, 109, 111– 112, 117, 121–125, 127–129 communitarianism (also radical communitarianism, moderate communitarianism) 53, 64–65, 67–68, 72, 79, 82, 94, 102, 130 consequentialism (also consequentialist) 13, 61, 64–65, 66 Craig, William Lane 57, 60–67, 75, 80–83 death penalty 9, 14, 27, 30, 37–38, 46–49, 50–55, 78, 85–86, 91, 99, 100, 106, 109, 116–118, 123 Etieyibo, Edwin 53 exclusivism 80 expressivism 39 flourishing 67–68, 128 friendliness (friendly, friendship) 20– 27, 36, 43, 48, 49, 51, 52, 55, 59, 60, 69, 70, 72–75, 85, 100, 102, 110, 116–118

Gbadegesin, Segun 47 harmony (also harmonious, disharmony) 8, 19, 20–24, 27, 28, 50, 52, 67, 72, 74, 79, 95, 98, 100, 101, 106, 110, 114, 117–118, 121, 123 Horsthemke, Kai 53 humanity 7–9, 23–27, 30–33, 40–42, 50–52, 54–55, 57–59, 60, 62– 63, 65, 69, 70, 73–79, 80–83, 85–86, 100, 103, 106, 113, 118, 120–123 identity (identification, identifying with) 20–22, 24–27, 48, 68, 69, 71, 73, 85, 91, 94, 119 inclusivism 80 individualistic (also hyperindividualism) 24, 67, 128 Islam 128 Judaism 128 legalism 95 life force (also vitality) 13, 14, 28, 55, 67, 87, 107, 109–124, 126 liveliness 67, 96, 105, 110–111, 113, 122 Menkiti, Ifeanyi 92–95, 104, 107 metaphysical naturalism 110, 122 Metz, Thaddeus 3, 13, 19, 20, 21–22, 24–28, 30, 32–40, 42–43, 46–49, 50–52, 54–55, 59–60, 64, 66–67, 69, 72, 75, 77, 87,

132 Index 97–101, 106–107, 110–111, 113, 115–119, 122–123, 126 monotheism (also theism) 76, 129 Murphy, Mark C. 63 original guilt 8, 79 original sin 24, 79 paternalism 21 penal substitution 31, 57, 58, 60, 61, 63–67, 75, 80–83 personhood (also normative personhood, maximal personhood) 13–14, 32, 55, 67–68, 87, 91–110, 116, 122, 126 punishment 8, 13–14, 20, 26–27, 30–39, 40–49, 50–51, 53–58, 60–74, 76, 78–81, 83, 85–86, 91, 97–99, 102–105, 108–109, 113–116, 119–121, 123, 125 reconciliation (also reconciler) 7, 13, 25–29, 30–39, 40–46, 50, 54, 57–59, 60, 64, 66–67, 72, 74–79, 80–83, 85–86, 97–99, 103, 105–106, 113–116, 118, 120, 123 relativism 22

retribution (also retributivism, retributive justice) 13, 30–31, 34, 36–39, 44–45, 47, 51, 61–63, 65–66, 81–83, 97–98, 102, 113–115 satisfaction 3, 43, 61, 63, 64 secular 28, 110, 122 sin 1, 4, 6–9, 10–12, 15, 19–28, 31–36, 38–44, 46–55, 57–67, 69–70, 72–73, 75–87, 91–107, 109–115, 117–124, 126–130 Smart, J.J.C. 7, 15 solidarity 21–22, 24–27, 68–73, 81, 85, 103, 119–120 Stump, Elenore 2, 8–10, 15, 25, 31, 40, 41–42, 80 Swinburne, Richard 3, 7–8, 83 Thomistic interpretation 9–11, 31 Tutu, Desmond 23–24, 28, 32 unfriendliness (unfriendly) 22–27, 46, 48, 49, 59, 60, 69, 70, 79, 116 universalism 80 utilitarianism 38, 52, 113 Wiredu, Kwasi 4–5