The words “vicarious” and “substitutionary” describe the
traditional understanding of Jesus’ death. The word “vicarious” is more
commonly used in daily parlance. When we read a good novel, we might feel what
a character feels, we might share in their love life, their heroic escapades,
and even their pain and shame. We live vicariously through them. This is purely
psychological. We may read an account of some character falling off a building.
We may feel their fright as they plummet to the ground, and experience the
shock of impact, but we are not injured by their fall. The experience is merely
vicarious.
While a vicarious experience is subjective, to become a
substitute for another is objective. For the liberal, they would say that “it
was as though Jesus became sin for us.” That is subjective or imaginary. To
say, “He was made to be sin” is real life and an objective reality. Jesus died
a real death so that your sins are placed on him. This is clearly what the
Scriptures teach.
In combat, a soldier might jump on a hand grenade so that
his body takes the full explosion to save his comrades. This is a
substitutionary sacrifice. To make it come closer to matching Jesus’ death, it
would be necessary for the soldier to leave a safe place, that is, to choose
death when he could have lived. Another example is a mother sacrificing her
life during childbirth, so her newborn could live. As profoundly inspiring as
such human sacrifice is, its benefit is temporal and limited. When Jesus died
for the sins of the Elect, he died “once for all.” His blood was shed, as our
creed says, “for us and for our salvation.”
Beyond the glorious substitution, there is also an act of
creature / Creator reconciliation. When Jesus suffers and dies “for us and our
salvation” he does so as an eternal transaction between the Second Person of
the Trinity and the First Person of the Trinity. Jesus satisfies the Covenant
of Redemption, he thereby gives birth to the Covenant of Grace. The Covenant is
between the Father and the Son, the second is between God and the Elect.
Men may flee from the sunlight to
dark and musty caves of the earth, but they cannot put out the sun. So men may
in any dispensation despise the grace of God, but they cannot extinguish it. A.
W. Tozer (1897–1963)
God giveth his wrath by weight,
but his mercy without measure. Sir Thomas Fuller (1608–1661)
God of all mercy is a God unjust.
Edward Young (1683–1765)
God did not abolish the fact of
evil; he transformed it. He did not stop the Crucifixion; he rose from the
dead. Dorothy L. Sayers (1893–1957)
He treasures up his bright
designs, And works his sovereign will. William Cowper (1731–1800)