In Saving Paradise: How Christianity Traded Love of This World for Crucifixion and Empire, authors Rita Nakashima Brock and Rebecca Ann Parker argue that Western Christians have abandoned a belief in Paradise's present existence in this world for a religion that focuses on the cross which, in their opinion, represents an affirmation of torture, the abuse of power and the condoning of violence.

In their lengthy book they spare no expense to make their case, giving a bird's eye view of the last 2000 years of history.

They begin with exploring the theme of paradise in the Bible. They assert the truth that no Christian who takes the Bible seriously can argue with: creation is good. Likewise, humanity is good and shares in the divine mandate to seek human flourishing and blessing.

Curiously, the authors accept Genesis with little criticism but reject Revelation even though it admittedly "has more words devoted to paradise than does any other text in the scriptures" (79). The reason: "Revelation's paradise is too thin and meager" (79). Since Revelation speaks of a Paradise "that is out of this world" it "loses its grounding in the world as a gift of God" (79). This is a surprising conclusion, since, in Revelation, the very world that has fallen is recreated through divine power. They also claim that "nowhere [in Revelation] can one find tender mercies or the warmth of love" (79). What then do we make of Revelation 21:3-5? One can only assume that it is the eschatological orientation of Revelation - an orientation they reject - that is not to their liking.

The authors approvingly quote Irenaeus (c. 130-200 B.C.): "The Church has been planted as a paradises in this world" (84). Yet, they admit that Irenaeus advocated an eschatological quality to Paradise: In Irenaeus' view,

paradise had both a "here" and "not here" quality. Christians taught that paradise had always been here on earth. Sin had once closed its portals, but Jesus Christ had reopened them for the living. While Christians could taste, see, and feel the traces of it in ordinary life, they arrived most fully in paradise in community worship. With its art and buildings, the church created a space that united the living on earth with the heavenly beings and departed saints, who surrounded and blessed the living. (87-88)

Certainly, Irenaeus taught that we enter Paradise here and now through the church, but he did not deny that there is also a "there and then" quality to Paradise.

In the early church, the Eucharist was the central place of celebration of God's restoration of life. They argue that in the early church "Jesus's crucifixion... was not the focus of the liturgy and was not the key to its meaning. The entire story communicated the Spirit in life. The Eucharist foods signified Christ's living body, the union of spirit and flesh in his incarnation, and the abiding power of life, manifested in his resurrection" (160). The focus, they claim, was on incarnation and resurrection, not on crucifixion.

In their interpretation of Christian history, the fall from a belief in Paradise "here and now" begins with the Carolingian theologian Paschasius Radbertus: "He offered an unprecedented interpretation: the consecrated elements were the material, historical body of Christ, and the bread and cup made the crucified blood and flesh of the Lord present" (234). Therefore, Christ was subject to a perpetual dying:

Though some scholars interpret the change in the interpretation of the Eucharist as emphasizing Christ's vulnerable humanity and drawing him closer to human beings, in fact the change alienated him from humanity by changing the meaning of the human nature he revealed. Previously, Christ's incarnation revealed humanity's likeness to God and restored humanity's divine powers as first given in paradise. To be human was to become divine. Now, Christ's incarnation revealed humanity's mortality and powerlessness and its brokenness and suffering. To be human was to suffer and die. (237)

The question that begs to be addressed is: Why not both? Why must we reject the truth of Jesus' atoning work on the cross in order to fully embrace the significance of the incarnation and resurrection? Can't all these truths be held in redemptive tension without falling into misguided and abusive theories of atonement? Even more, doesn't the cross evidence that Jesus did more than simply establish paradise, but that he also did something about the very real problem of human sin? One does not have to embrace a penal substitutionary theory of atonement to embrace crucifixion. The ancient church did not advocate this theory, but yet, they did, in accordance with the New Testament, hold to a redemptive significance to the cross.

The authors are not content with this "both/and" embrace, and thus conclude that the inclusion of crucifixion in the Eucharist, with its emphasis on death, legitimized all manner of evil: "War ceased being a sin and became a way to atone for sin. Killing became a mode of penance, a pathway to paradise" (264). The result: "Western Europe became habituated to seeing torture and murder as sacred" (312).

The authors believe that the way forward is to continue on the path established by those who embraced the "social gospel" at the beginning of the 20th century. They also imply that that universalism, Unitarianism, and a generic sense of the sacred is necessary to truly "save paradise." What must definitely be abandoned is any sense of an eschatological fulfillment of Paradise, for Paradise "is ecological, not eschatological" (388).

The authors conclude by stating what we need to save Paradise:

We can come to know the world as paradise when our hearts and souls are reborn through the arduous and tender task of living rightly with one another and the earth. Generosity, nonviolence, and care for one another are the pathways into transformed awareness. Knowing that paradise is here and now is a gift that comes to those who practice the ethics of paradise. This way of living is not Utopian. It does not spring simply from the imagination of a better world but from a profound embrace of this world. It does not begin with knowledge or hope. It begins with love. (409)

Though I agree with their basic assessment, I am troubled by one glaring omission. Where's God in the preceding quotation? Apparently, paradise has little to do with "loving God with all one's heart, soul, strength, and mind." Loving our neighbor, though an essential aspect of Christianity, is not the same thing as loving God. (For example, we do not worship our neighbor or give thanks to our neighbor for creation, but we do worship and give thanks to God.) And a paradise without God is hardly paradise.

Though they do not wish to be labeled as utopians, we all know where past attempts at creating utopia have led - to dystopia. If one thing is sure in sacred history, all our best attempts with the best motivations prove that we need God to bring about full and final redemption. This demands an eschatological orientation. Though we should be critical of those who assume that we should not strive for paradise now, we must equally be critical of those who assume we can save paradise on our own. God is the savior. We are not - though we certainly should seek to align ourselves with God's desire to restore and renew this present world.

Like Marcus Borg who blames empire on the incarnation, Brock and Parker blame empire on the cross. Though the cross, like all sacred truths, is prone to abuse, this is not guaranteed. Crucifixion does not assume the abuse of power or condoning of violence. Rightly understood, it exposes the abuses of power and condoning of violence that leads to such injustice. In other words, it makes plain human sin - personal, institutional, political, systemic, corporate, etc.

We continue to cherish the cross because it reveals that Christ has triumphed, not only over death, but over human sin, which was manifest in its ugliest dimensions at the cross.

Brock and Parker's willingness to accept death as natural exposes the flaw in their paradise. Death is not natural to God's paradise, but a parasite. It is the consequence of sin, and therefore, must be eliminated if paradise is to be regained. And this is one thing we cannot do on our own! However, the cross conquers paradise's greatest enemy - death - and brings life to light in Christ.

Brock and Parker began this study based almost solely on their examination of ancient Christian artwork and images. They claim that the dead body of Christ on the cross is absent before the second millennium (even though they admit that even some of the ancient art contains cross imagery). In my opinion, this is a precarious place to begin. Christian art and imagery will never have the depth and dimension that the written word possesses. If one is to truly ascertain the place of the cross in Christian theology, one must begin with, and give preeminence to, the New Testament documents, which most certainly speak of the saving significance of the crucifixion (as well as the incarnation, resurrection, ascension, and second coming). The loss of this eschatological dimension empties God's salvation of its ultimate significance.

The authors believe atonement is dangerous and destructive. I disagree. We can embrace the cross without justifying torture or the abuse of power.

Contrary to the authors' assumptions, sometimes sacrifices are made out of love. Edward Vacek describes this well:

[W]hen radical love is intense enough the lover's affirmation can be so completely given over to the beloved as to affirm the latter's being at the cost of the lover's own. The testimony of the secular and sacred saints is that at our best we have a profound desire to give ourselves over to something larger than ourselves; we are even willing to sacrifice our life for that object of our devotion. (Edward Vacek, Love, Human and Divine, 183.)

Quotes excerpted from Saving Paradise: How Christianity Traded Love of This World for Crucifixion and Empire by Rita Nakashima Brock and Rebecca Ann Parker

© Richard J. Vincent, 2008