The Christological reflections I unfold in this book have to do with the concept of representation. This concept I first clarify in general, and then more particularly regarding its application to Jesus Christ. Does it fit into the classical structure of Christology, that is, into the distinction between the doctrine of the person and the âministryâ (the âworkâ) of Jesus Christ? Or does it transform this structure? How is it expressed, and how does it interact with other semantically related concepts?
3.1 Clarification of the Term âRepresentationâ
In considering the history of philosophy and psychology, Eckart Scheerer draws a distinction between four different meanings of the term ârepresentationâ:
1) âimaginationâ [Vorstellung] in the broader sense, i.e., mental state with cognitive content; 2) âimaginationâ in the narrower sense, i.e., a mental state that reproduces, is derived from, or refers to an earlier mental state; 3) âdepictionâ [Darstellung], i.e., structure-preserving mapping using images, symbols, and signs of all kinds; 4) and âsubstitutionâ [Stellvertretung].1
The German terms Vorstellung (âimaginationâ), Darstellung (âdepictionâ), and Stellvertretung (âsubstitutionâ) intersect semantically in the intra- and extra-mental process of positioning/placing [stellen]. In thought, in speech, or by means of an external medium, a reference to something or someone is established: an object is brought to mind (Vorstellung), an issue becomes depicted (Darstellung), X is taking the place of Y or X is standing for/is signifying Y (Stellvertretung).
Paul Tillich notes, âThe Latin word praesentia, like the German word Gegenwart, contains a spatial image: âA thing which stands before oneââ.2 âPrae-sensâ originally meant âto be in front ofâ in a spatial sense. Thus, the noun âpraesentiaâ means âthat which stands before/in front of oneâ. The temporal meaning of âpresenceâ is already inherently contained within it, because what is spatially before oneâs eyes is also temporally there. âRepresentationâ therefore means âmaking presentâ in a spatio-temporal sense.
In todayâs usage the termâs basic meaning is âsomeone or something standing for another person or for something elseâ. It is a relation between a represented and a representing entity. This basic meaning can encompass a variety of different content in view of different spheres of reality. For our purposes, we must first prepare the term for application to Christology, while also excluding certain possible meanings. This I do in the following by highlighting various distinctions and selecting constituent elements of meaning.
An important distinction is that between mental (internal to oneâs consciousness), communicative (linguistic, pictorial, symbolic depictions), and personal (social) representations. This distinction is related to the âwhatâ (the repraesentandum) and the âhowâ (the mode) of representation. Much of the philosophical and psychological debate around ârepresentationâ relates to the first two categories, while personal representation tends to be the subject of jurisprudence and the social and political sciences.
If one applies the distinction between personal and non-personal representations to both the represented and to the representing entities, four possible combinations emerge:
something (non-personal) represents someone (a personal entity), e.g., a coat of arms represents an aristocratic family, the name or a picture of a person represents that person;
something represents something, e.g., in a metaphor standing for a meaning, or in a picture standing for what is depicted, or in a simulation standing for the simulated reality, or in a coin standing for a value;
someone represents something, e.g., the emperor represents the state; the minister represents the ministry and takes political responsibility for the work done there;
someone represents someone, e.g., in a guardianship, or in the theatre when a performer represents the person being portrayed.
In the case of personal representation, its implementation consists in a stand-in/proxy for a person or institution, whereby this substitute may not only embody that which they are representing but is also authorized to act on behalf of it/them. The relationship between the represented and the representing person can be a hierarchical one, e.g., the representation of a high-ranking public official by one who is authorized by them or, in the reverse case, when the holder of an office represents those who are subordinate to them. But there are also egalitarian relations of representation between persons.
Non-personal representation, on the other hand, can only consist in the referential depiction of an actual or ideal reality lying âbehindâ it. This can, however, take place in a personal-communicative context, e.g., when the meaning of a certain sign (as in the case of a traffic sign) is established by convention.
In all these cases it is true that the representation can only be understood and be valid as such in a certain frame of reference. That a coin represents a certain value is in the frame of reference of finance; that a lawyer represents their clients in court, in the frame of reference of jurisprudence; that bread represents the body of Christ, in the frame of reference of Christian faith or theology.
In contrast to such intentional representations of an entity or thing, there are also unintentional, natural representations, such as the cry that indicates pain. In these cases, the instance of the intended addressee is absent. The representation is not made to someone, as is the case with intentional representations. It occurs in a causal context and is perceived as an indicator of a physical state.
The determinations of the relationships between representing and represented entities differ accordingly. In the case of a non-personal representation, this relation may be causal (such as in the representation of mental states in the brain) or analogical, i.e., based on similarity (such as of a sign to the reality it denotes). In the case of personal representation, it is actualâthat is, it is accomplished by an action. This may be an implicit representation (as in the case of a work of art representing not only what it depicts but also the artist who created it), or an explicit one (as in the case of a monarch or a president representing a state).
In this second case of a personal, intentional, explicit representation, the representational relation is constituted by an act of delegation of authority to the representing entity from the represented entity. This empowerment, legitimation, and transfer of rights and duties consists in the acts of appointing, calling, and commissioning. It may be based on an act of selection (such as an election or appointment based on an acquired qualification). But the worthiness to assume this function can also be derived from succession, a natural disposition, divine election, or oneâs own merits. In any case, even if it is a matter of representation one has claimed for oneself, legitimation is needed.
The forms of non-personal representation, as well as the entire domain of semiotic signification, have no role to play anymore in what follows. The concept of representation is used in a personal, relational, and functional sense; thereby it denotes both a particular pattern of relations and a relational occurrence. The relational pattern consists of three personal entities, which stand in relation to each other in two ways:
(a) These three entities are:
the person who is represented (subject of the representation);
the representative, who represents/stands in for the subject; and
the person, community, or institution to whom the representation is made and who must recognize and acknowledge it as such.
The subject or âprincipalâ of the representation can be an individual person, a community of persons, or a (social, economic, political) institution. In the case of an institution, representation is usually tied to an office established for this purpose. This office is relatively independent of the person who holds it (the representative) and can also be filled by another person. The representative then represents this institution âofficiallyâ (ex officio).
(b) The three entities are connected to each other in two ways. The representative is in relation to both the one he/she represents and to the one for whom (or towards whom) he/she performs the representation. From the one side the representative receives his/her authority, commission, and legitimation; to the other side he/she appears with it and brings it to bear. He/she is loyal and accountable to the one he/she represents. But if the authority of the subject of the representation (the authority conferred on the representative) is not recognized by the recipients of the representation, the repraesentandum cannot come into effect.
(c) The relational occurrence consists in the function that the representative performs. He/she not only represents the contracting entity (person or institution) but also carries out its will, thus acting in its name and on its mandate. This brings the fourth element into play: the repraesentandum, the content to be represented, the âwhatâ of the representation. This can coincide with the âwhoâ, i.e., the subject of the representation. Then the representative represents the person for whom they are standing in, or at least that personâs will (as is the case with, e.g., a conservatorship). But the repraesentandum can also possess a certain function which is to be distinguished (though not separated) from this person and their overall will. This is the case, for example, when the representative stands in for the subject who entrusts them in a specific respect, when they are endowed with a limited power of attorney for the execution of a particular order, or when they execute a particular act of the subjectâs will on their behalf.
The represented subject is not passive in the relational occurrence, but both directly and indirectly active. In the act of commissioning the representative, they act directly, unmediated; on the other hand, in the execution of that representation, they act indirectly, mediated through the representative. If they change the assignment or demand accountability, they once again act directly and in an unmediated way. The representative is also not a passive medium of representation, but an active intermediary/mediator of the one whom they represent. They embody the subjectâs presence in terms of that subjectâs will and thus, in a certain sense, their being. They act âin their spiritâ.
The peculiarity of religious representations consists in the fact that they not only make manifest the unmanifest Divine but they establish a relation to it, while at the same time respecting its hiddenness. The French classical philologist, historian of religion and culture, and anthropologist Jean-Pierre Vernant expresses this as follows:
The religious sign does not present itself as a simple tool of thought. It does not aim exclusively to make present in the human mind the sacred power to which it refers. It always wants to establish a real connection, a conversation with it, to make it present in the world of humans. But in its effort to build a bridge to the divine, it must at the same time make clear the distance, the incommensurability between the sacred power and all that makes it visibleânecessarily inadequatelyâin the eyes of humans.3
3.2 Application of the Concept of Representation to the Interpretation of Jesus Christ
The application of the concept of representation to Christology, as attempted in the present study, sees in Jesus Christ the representative of God towards humans and the representative of humans towards God. Thus, the representation takes place in Jesus Christ in a twofold direction: from God toward humans and from humans toward God.
The distinctiveness of the representation model presented here consists in this double relationality.
Within German-speaking theology, Hermann Deuser is one of the few who have applied the concept of representation to Christologyâor, more precisely, to the interpretation of âincarnationâ.4 He derives his concept of representation from the semiotics of Charles Sanders Peirce and therefore understands it as a signifying process. Within this process there are three connected moments: an initial moment of creativity; a specifying reference to objects; and the act of understanding that recognizes in the object the creativity of its representation.5 With reference to theology and more precisely Christology, in this process God is this creative ground, and Jesus is the âobjectâ in which God comes to be represented. In Christian understanding this representation is recognized as Godâs representation. The creative ground is therebyâas in every representational relationshipâqualitatively preordered to the object of representation. The object is still undetermined and is available for representation, through which it attains its determination. Only in this way can it become accessible to knowledge and understanding; and only through knowledge and understanding does the representation actually become such. It does not exist in an objective way before understanding and interpretation accrue to it: âthis third element of mental reception and constructiveness belongs to complete representationâ.6
The concept of representation I am developing in this book is distinct from Deuserâs approach in at least three ways. Firstly, in contrast to him I am emphasizing the doublesidedness of the representational relationship: from humans to God and from God to humans. Secondly, I see representation not only as signification or depiction but as an occurrence that exerts a transformative impact.7 In the representative, the creative ground not only comes to light, it also manifests itself in its powerful presence. Representation is more than a semiotic process. The third difference is that Deuserâs approach is related only to the interpretation of âincarnationâ, not to Christology as a whole, that his ideas remain largely at the programmatic level, and that he unfolds the indicated program rather allusively in terms of its content.
In his reflections on the âvicarious substitutionâ (Stellvertretung) of Jesus Christ, Christof Gestrich likewise assumes a double representational relationship. He begins with the question of what constitutes a good ambassador. Such a messenger represents not only his employer, but also those to whom he has been sent. He acts as a mediator, especially when it comes to reconciliation. If necessary, he is even prepared to lay down his life for this purpose.
In the vicariousness of Jesus Christ, God shows himself âabroadâ in the realm of humanity, but also humanity âat homeâ in the realm of God. Jesusâ divine mission in vicariousness requires that in him the real and true God becomes visible, as does the real and true human.8
Stephan Schaede likewise considers the soteriological relevance of the concept of representation in terms of âdouble representationâ.9 He summarizes this in three points:
(a) Christ, by taking the place of the sinner, is the person in whom God allows sinful human beings to be present in their sin, in order to overcome sin in this person. (b) Christ, having taken our place as the righteous one, is the one in whom the sinner becomes present to God as a justified human. (c) In Christ, God becomes present to the human as the one who forgives and justifies their sins.10
That means: Jesus Christ represents the sinner, the justified sinner, and the justifying God. Thus, representation is traced back to substitution and further defined in the context of the theology of sin and of justification (following 2 Cor. 5:21).
In contrast, I seek (a) to apply the concept of representation not only soteriologically in view of the salvific significance of Jesus Christ, but more fundamentally also to the understanding of his person; and (b) to relate this concept not only to sin and forgiveness, but also to the saving presence of God in suffering as well as in all other states of existence.
3.2.1 Representation as âMaking Presentâ
In medieval Latin, as well as in English, French, and Italian, the concept of representation has a wide range of meanings.11 Above all, this range includes the meaning of âmaking presentâ, which is of fundamental importance for representational Christology. This aspect of meaning results from the translation of the Latin term representatio. Here I understand the prefix âreâ not so much in the temporal sense of âto make present againâ as in the ontic sense of making present someone who is already present (not someone who is absent), but who is withdrawn from sensory perception. It is thus about the manifestation of presence in a person.
âBeing-thereâ [Da-sein] is Godâs fundamental mode of being. This is already stated explicitly by Godâs self-communication as YHWH in Exod. 3:14b, âI am thereâ, or, in the mode of a promise, âI will be thereâ or âI will be with youâ (cf. Exod. 3:12). Godâs existence is not âemptyâ but filled with Godâs intention for salvation (Exod. 34:6ff. and more). Presence is not to be understood as a static resting in itself, but instead as something dynamic, as a âcomingâ that is always new. It has the character of an occurrence.
âRepresentationâ, then, in relation to Christ, does not mean âsubstitutionâ in the sense of being commissioned to represent an absent Other, to play their role, to speak and act on their behalf. Christ as Godâs representative is more than a delegate, deputy, envoy, ambassador, agent, vicar, functionary, etc. He is the presence of God in person. He represents God and God represents Godself in him.
The representation of God to the human being can also be described (in epistemic terms) as ârevelationâ, as the self-revelation of God, who reveals Godself in Jesus to humans as the addressees of revelation.12 In soteriological terms it can be expressed as mediation of salvation for the benefit of humans. If one understands âmediatorâ from the Latin âinterpresâ, one can say along with Gregor Maria Hoff: âin Jesus Christ [â¦] God interprets himself humanly and the human âdivinelyâ: his [humanâs] possibilities of life are âdefinedâ anewâ.13
If the relationship between Godâs self-revelation and the historical medium in which it takes place is understood as a representational relationship, the possibility emerges that Godâs presence can also make itself present in other representational forms. For the Christian faith, Jesus Christ is the authoritative representative of Godâs unconditional and universal salvific presence, but this does not exclude that Godâs presence also taking on forms other than representation through Christ. Rather, that possibility is a consequence of the unconditionality and universality of Godâs salvific presence. In Christ God has identified in the intention to offer salvation, but has not de-fined Godself in the sense of setting âlimitsâ (Latin: âfinisâ) to represent Godself.
3.2.2 Whom Does Jesus Christ Represent?
Chapter 3.1 examined the structure of relations inherent in the concept of representation. âRepresentationâ describes a tripartite relationship which maps out and distinguishes between three entities: (a) that which is represented, (b) the representative, and (c) the addressee(s) toward whom the representation is made. If we apply this structure to Christology, the meaning of Jesus Christ is brought up in view of the two basic relationships that determine his person: on the one hand with regard to his relationship to God or to Godâs Word, Wisdom, Spirit which are expressions for the self-communicating saving presence of God, and on the other with regard to his relationship to human beings, to humanity:
(a) In Jesusâ relationship with humans, the entity represented by him (and thus the subject of representation) is God. The act of representation is made to humanity. The core of representational Christology in this regard is the simple statement that âGod was in himâ (2 Cor. 5:19). Of equal significance is the Roman centurionâs confessional statement recorded in Mk. 15:39b: âYes, this human was truly the Son of God!â All titles given to Jesus in the New Testament express this being-in, this âindwellingâ of God being in Jesus, albeit with different emphases and alluding to different traditions. In sum they can all be interpreted in line with the concept of representation: ârepresentation means: as Jesus Christ is, so is Godâ,14 and, even more, âwhere Jesus [is], there [is] Godselfâ.15 The certainty that Jesus Christ represents God has constituted, spread, and sustained his community of followers over two millennia. This community gathers in his name because he acted in the name of God and thus represented that name.
The question of how to think of Godâs presence in Jesus the Christ is answered in three ways in the Christological approach offered in this volume (see chapters 4.3, 4.4, and 4.5), following the biblical and early Christian ways of speaking of the âWordâ which became flesh, of the âSpiritâ who inspired him, and of the âWisdomâ which dwelt in him. The presence of God is expressed in these three notions in different ways, each with its own emphasis. In contrast to the dominance of the Logos-Incarnation Christology in the history of theology, my approach pays greater attention to Spirit- and Wisdom-Christologies.
(b) In Jesusâ relationship to God, the entities represented by him are humanity or human existence. This representation is made to God. The fact that Jesus himself was part of humanity and had the experience of being humanâup to his appalling death on the crossâenables him to present that experience to God.
In view of the person of Jesus Christ I will now distinguish the representational approach to Christology from what I call âidentification Christologyâ. In view of his âworkâ and impact or his salvific significance, I then distinguish it from a âconstitutive Christology and soteriologyâ.
3.2.2.1 Identification Christology
Representational Christology differs from Christological approaches that tend to identify Jesus without a significant distinction either with God or with humanity.
On the one hand, identification Christology includes approaches that underdefine Godâs presence in Jesus and see in him merely a human âfunctionaryâ commissioned by God to act in Godâs service. Here he is identified so much with being human that the relationship with God that shapes his personality is reduced to his belief in God, i.e., to a psychological act or state.
On the other hand, it includes those approaches which minimize or eliminate Jesusâ distinctiveness from God (or from the âWordâ of God) and which emphasize his unity with God. This tended to be the case in the Alexandrian Christology of the Early Church, which conceived of this unity as a substantial (or physical) one. In the extreme position of Mono- or Miaphysitism (rejected by the Council of Chalcedon, but still held by some Oriental Orthodox churches), there came to be a complete identification of Jesus Christ with God.
This view continues to be held to the present day, for example, in parts of Orthodox and Evangelical theology, where Jesus is referred to simply as âGodâ without adding qualifications that distinguish him from God (qualifications such as âhe is the incarnation of the Word of Godâ).
In soteriology, identification Christology is expressed by proclaiming that Jesus Christ is the salvific presence of God. The greater the emphasis on the unity between Jesus Christ and God (or the salvation of God), the less room there is for the acceptance of other manifestations of the Word, Spirit, and Wisdom of God besides the one personified in Jesus. This leads to a soteriological exclusivism.
The relationship between Jesus Christ and God (or Godâs salvation) as well as the relationship between Jesus Christ and humanity, to whom his mission of imparting salvation applies, are defined by representational Christology, however, as a unity in difference,16 as a realization that âmakes presentâ, without stating a complete identification.
3.2.2.2 Constitutive Christology
In terms of the work and impact or the salvific significance of Jesus Christ, representational Christology differs from the Christological approaches that can be called âconstitutiveâ or âcausativeâ Christology. These assume that Jesus, by laying down his life, is not the representative but the cause or necessary condition of the salvation of humans or even of Godâs will and act of salvationâbecause the death on the cross was an atoning sacrifice necessary for the reconciliation of humans with God or even for the reconciliation of God. Christâs self-sacrifice healed the obstructed relationship between God and human beings, lifted the burden of original sin from humanity, and removed the penalty of sin imposed by God for it. According to this interpretation, with his death on the cross, sin was deprived of its power and salvation for humans was achieved. Thus, the crucifixion is the culmination of the history of salvation. It turned Godâs wrath to grace.
The main lines of Western soteriological thought before the Enlightenment follow constitutive Christology. They run from Paul through Augustine, Anselm of Canterbury (who interpreted the death on the cross as a vicarious satisfaction), and Luther (who saw in Jesusâ passion a vicarious penal suffering for the salvation of humans). It is not important here to consider these approaches in detail.17 What they have in common is their focus on the cross of Jesus. Constitutive Christological approaches are theologies of the Cross.
As a rule, such theologies are connected with an âinfralapsarianâ view of Godâs intention and work to redeem humanity, which would see this intention and work as having become necessary through the original sin of mankind. As opposed to a âsupralapsarianâ view, which assumes that Godâs salvific will exists from eternity and has not been overshadowed by the âFallâ (lapsus) of humanity, âinfralapsarianâ (literally: âunder the Fallâ) soteriology supposes that Godâs intention and work to redeem humankind had become necessary as a response to original sin. In this response, God decided to âhealâ the broken covenant, rehabilitate sinful humanity, and establish a âNew Covenantâ. That took place in the âChrist-eventâ, particularly in the crucifixion.
Here, too, the consequences for the theology of religions are obvious: if the decisive act of Godâs salvation took place in Jesusâabove all in his death on the crossâthen there can be no healed relationship with God without Christ (remoto Christo). If participation in this act takes place through Christian faith, then it is only accessible to believers in Christ. If faith finds its social realization in the church, then membership in this community is necessary for salvation. Though escape clauses can be built into this exclusivism,18 even at their best they cannot rise above being graciously granted exceptions to the rule.
In contrast to constitutive Christological approaches and causative soteriology, representative Christology and soteriology is closer to a âsupralapsarianâ position. It assumes that Godâs unconditional and universal will for salvation is constituted from eternity in the very being of God, and that Jesusâ blood sacrifice was not a divinely ordered necessity to overcome human alienation from God. It was not humanityâs âfall into sinâ (as in âinfralapsarianâ thinking) that prompted the salvific work of God, which intended to remedy that fallâs consequences. Rather, that salvific work was the achievement of the divine purpose already present from creation onwards for the consummation of creation. There is no fundamental sinful barrier to Godâs saving will that needs to be removed. Even if repeatedly irritated and disturbed by the machinations of creatures, God ultimately overrules everything put in the way. This type of Christology finds connections with modern Protestantism, especially in Hegel and Schleiermacher. Since the nineteenth century, it has been developed in different ways.
Representative Christology and soteriology understand the âChrist-eventâ as the historical realization of the salvation that comes from eternity (the protological perspective) and is realized in its full form at the end of time (the eschatological perspective). Godâs salvation is represented in Christ, i.e., revealed, communicated, and thus effective. Paul Tillich phrased it like this: âIt is the eternal relation of God to man which is manifest in the Christâ.19 This representation takes place not only in the passion and death of Jesus on the cross, but in the overall context of his life, work, suffering, death, and âresurrectionâ.
God is salvifically present in Jesus Christ and works in and through him in the power of Godâs Spirit. But this power also works beyond the representative figure and the effect emanating from it. The possibility is thus kept open that there can also be other representative figures which point away from themselves and toward the divine reality of salvation which is made present in them. Only in this broadening can we convincingly conceive of the unconditionality and universality of Godâs will for salvation. The Christian faith is related to Christ and only to him. But as the âmirror of the paternal heartâ (as Luther puts it),20 Christ stands for the breadth of this heart.
3.2.2.3 Representational Christology as Dilution?
If one takes identification and constitutive Christologies as yardsticks, then representational Christology may appear somewhat watered down in contrast. A representation seems to have less content of being than the represented reality. Compared to âactualâ reality it seems âinauthenticâ at best. This objection, however, only arises within a framework of ontic thought which quantifies the substance of being, i.e., establishes greater or lesser degrees of being (in this case God-being). But representational Christology is not based on ontic thought but placed in a relational frame of reference. Moreover, representation indicates what Jesus does rather that what he is in his very being. According to it, there is not much meaning to be had in making an ontological gradation between the represented reality and the representative. This reality manifests itself in the representative; it comes into effect through him/her. One can even see in this reality the representativeâs âgreater degree of beingâ compared to the one represented, because he/she realizes what he/she represents. But such ontic quantifications do not lead further.
Some critics, however, first present this approach in a watered-down form so as then to accuse it of dilution. I, however, insist that representational Christology contains no less normative force than other Christological approaches. Critics who see representational Christology as a dilution should show constructively how they intend to take up the theological challenge posed by relating Godâs universal grace to the particularity of salvation in Christ.
Representational Christology is not antithetical to, or incapable of communicating with, identification and constitutive Christologies. It can take up their concerns and bring them to bear within its framework and in its own modified way. This should become clear as the present Christological approach develops below.
3.2.3 What/Whom Does Jesus Christ Represent?
In view of the two relationships of Jesusâto God and to humanityâthe repraesentandum, the content of the representation should be defined differently:
(a) In his relationship to humanity, Jesus represents the salvific presence of God, the divine will for salvation, and the salvific action of God. Since it is not only a matter of acts of will (which would have to be distinguished from and subordinated to the essence of God) but also of the essential self-communication of God, the content of the representation coincides with its subject. Displaying that content characterizes the subject: God.
According to the testimony of the Synoptic Gospels in particular, Jesus does not proclaim his own Messiahship, his sonship with God, or even his being God, but rather the power of Godâs presence (symbolized as âkingdom of Godâ or as âreign of Godâ). He lays claim to finality and normativity, not for his own person, but for the mission embodied by him in his speech and action. The title of Christ expresses this transparency of the person to the âcause of Godâ and Godâs powerful presence. Therein lies the âChrist-contentâ that Jesus represents. However, he also gives the titles attached to him (like âMessiahâ) a new meaning directed to this content.
The repraesentandum thus consists in the unconditional and universal goodness and justice of God which is intended to be made manifest in history. Like the significance of the person of Christ, the content, too, which determines this person, his âworksâ, his proclamation, and his passion can all be labelled in the New Testament with different terms. In each case other aspects of meaning come to the fore: in John as Godâs âloveâ (
In both his proclamation of Godâs close presence and his practice that makes this presence tangible, Jesus was largely in agreement with the Pharisees. For all that he differed from their Torah observance, he was in agreement with them in the intention to align the entire practice of life with the all-encompassing presence of God. In this way, humansâaccording to the Phariseesâparticipate in the divine activity and thus in Godâs intention to complete Godâs work of creation for the good and salvation of creatures. The decisive difference to the Pharisees, however, is that Jesus not only proclaims and practices the presence of God but carries it within himself and in this way represents it as something ârealâ.
In view of Lutherâs talk of the hidden God, however, one might ask whether the nature of God can be described unilaterally in terms such as âloveâ or âsalvific affectionâ. What about the âdark sides of Godâ, which in the biblical tradition were associated with terms such as âwrathâ or âretributionâ and in which Godâs will for justice is expressed? These traits are unmistakably recognizable in Jesusâ speeches and actions (e.g., Mk. 3:5; Lk. 3:7; Jn. 3:36 or in his appearance in the temple: Mt. 21:12ff. and parallel passages). They can be interpreted as a confrontation with human resistance and opposition to Godâs saving action. This confrontation takes place in the context of Godâs salvific action with the goal of overcoming this resistance.
(b) With regard to the relationship of the person of Jesus to God, representational Christology says: Jesus represents the fundamental existential situation of the human being to Godâthe real human being with all their creaturely mortality, neediness, and limitation, including the suffering of death, despair, and lamentations about the sense of being abandoned by God. Whatâs more, he represents not only what he experienced (the suffering he endured), but also what caused these experiences. This includes humanityâs self-centeredness and hubris; selfish striving for power to the point of violence; injustice; religious arrogance; sadistic lust; hypocrisy; betrayal; indifference to the suffering of others, and everything else that is expressed in the term âsinâ. He represents this in a negative way, as it were, as that to which he has fallen victim. He represents the sinful behavior of humans in his wounds. As a victim, he became the representative of that which is common in the human world, but which contradicts head-on the divine purpose in human life and which constitutes manâs need for redemption.
This thought ties in with 2 Cor. 5:21 (âGod made him who had no sin to be sin for usâ). Jesus not only takes the âforeignâ place of the sinner so that, untainted by sin, he can ultimately justify the sinner before God, he also falls under the ramifications of sin and suffers its deadly power. His death is the wages of sin.
All suffering humans can find in him a symbol for their misery. In this regard, the Alexandrian notion of the âhuman natureâ of Jesus Christ becomes important: Christology is not solely about the individual person Jesus, but about him as a representative of humanity. In his commentary on Gal. 3:13, Luther could even see Christ as commissioned by God to commit the sins of all human beings, as a work virtually foreign to him, in place of humanity. According to Luther, God says to Christ: âyou shall be the person of all humans, who have committed the transgressions of all humansâ.21 Luther stated that, based on the Law, Jesus had to be crucified, because he not only assumed the personality of a sinner but even was the collective person of all sinners, thieves, and criminals. He, who himself was without sin, became the sinner.
Looking at both sides of this process of representation together, one can conclude that by representing God to human beings Jesus becomes the representative of true human existence, i.e., that which completely corresponds to God. According to the Adam-Christ typology in Paul, he is the new human, the one in whom the vocation of humanity to be in communion with God becomes clear. Applying the terminology of the two natures in Christ one can say: as representative of God, Christ is vere Deus who manifests âtrueâ humanity (= verus homo). As representative of the ârealâ humanity, Christ is vere homo, and as such represents humanity in all its fallenness with respect to God. As verus homo, however, he represents the divine destiny of the human beings and Godâs salvific presence towards them.
3.2.4 Not Only Showing, but Also Transforming
âRepresentationâ, as I understand it here, is more than just showing, displaying, or proclaiming the powerful presence of God. It is about its enactment. It realizes this presence in Jesusâ person. âRealizationâ here does not mean the realization of that which was hitherto non-real. It is also not about the âactualizationâ of a potential. Rather, it means the transition from an unexperienced to an experienced presence. By manifesting the presence of God, Jesus represents and also mediates it. One can apply a term from the theology of the Eucharist: Jesus is the âreal presenceâ of God. He manifests Godâs salvific presence, already existent in the power of his Spirit, in a historical and personal form. The presence effective in the power of Godâs Spirit obtains in and through the representative a âcorporealityâ in which it becomes vivid and from which it radiates powerfully. The representative of God imparts this presence and is in this way the medium of the divine presence of salvation. Through him, Godâs eternal will of reconciliation and communion is effectively âstagedâ and quintessentially executed. Through this reification in historical form Godâs saving presence is revealed to human paths of understanding.
The representative acts through radiating presence. That includes acting but goes further than this. Representation is an active âbeing-thereâ [Da-Sein]. It is more than a particular action or a web of activities (which could also include self-withdrawal and conscious renunciation of action). The fundamental process of representation is mere presenceâthe presence of the representative, and the power of his presence. Jesusâ âworksâ consist not only of specific actions but also of the radiance of his presence as Godâs presence in himâwhich underlies these actions. Hebrews 1:3 describes this radiance as the âreflectionâ of Godâs glory (
The self-communication of God in Jesus Christ is therefore to be understood not just in a significative sense, which merely gestures at meaning. It is an effective impact that transforms the relationship between God and human beings. In the force field of his radiance human beings are seized by this force and become for their part centers radiating Godâs presence, and thus those who themselves make God present. The representation of God in Jesus brings about that which it represents: the ever-new restitution of the relationship of humans to God.
This is not a supernatural (or âmagicâ) event, but an event of personal resonance. Christian faith is the experience of resonance with Jesus Christ, or with his relationship with God, and tuning into it. In Christians who enter into the relationship with God mediated by Jesus Christ there arises a resonance with Jesus; in this way they are connected to him and through him to God. The impetus for this resonance goes beyond the call to discipleship or the evocation of âimitationâ (
For those who stand in this resonant relationship with Jesus, then, he is not only the revealer of Godâs will for salvation, but its powerfully manifested archetype, which provides the impetus for this resonance. To couch this in the terms of biblical metaphor, he not only announces the dawn of Godâs reignâlike a prophetâbut brings it about.
âRepresentationâ, therefore, refers to a performative presence in which the represented reality comes into effect. The reality of Godâs salvific presence, which precedes the act of representation, takes effect in this act and through this act in the reality of the world. Thus, representation also means mediation and historical manifestation. In the re-presentation of the will for salvation that is Godâs essential self-identification salvation becomes a present reality.
This performative presence means, on the one hand, that in Christ God puts into effect the reality of salvation and thus makes it effective, but on the other hand it also means that this reality always lies beyond the form it has so far taken and transcends it protologically as well as eschatologically. Godâs presence is completely in Jesus Christ and at the same time it remains distinct from him. It is in this form of its manifestation and at the same time behind it and underlying it.
Where one uses the metaphor of âspeakingâ to describe this praesentia operosa [active presence] or speaks of the âword of Godâ, this is to be understood as performative speaking, i.e., speaking through a medium. It is comparable to the jurisdiction of a judge, who establishes law in their verdict, but in doing so gives validity to a legal order that owes itself to the preceding legislation and ultimately to the principles of justice. The judge represents the legal order. In view of Godâs grace, representation does not mean the generation of a previously non-existent reality, but the re-presentation of Godâs gracious being, which precedes the presentation, makes it possible, and takes place in it.
The historical realization of this spiritual reality of Godâs presence refers not only to that reality externally, as is characteristic for the relationship between a sign and its meaning; rather, it gives it a real historical shape and thus brings it to reality and to effect. Jesus Christ made present the living, potent presence of God in such an intense form that he was called (in Col. 1:15, cf. 2 Cor. 4:4) âthe image of the invisible Godâ (
Through the âindwelling of Godâ he embodied the presence of God and radiated it, like a source of power or light, to those who followed him. As a human being who lived entirely out of relationship with God, he embodied true humanity, open to God. Jesus Christ is not only the proclaimer, but also the embodiment of the message of Godâs all-embracing and unconditional love and justice for creation.
This perspective enables us to maintain the uniqueness, the centrality, and the normativity of Jesus Christ for the Christian faith without making the exclusivist point that the gift of Godâs grace is granted only to those who participate in the Christ-event by faith.
3.2.5 The âFor Structureâ
In the relational event inherent in the concept of representation, the preposition âforâ occurs with three different meanings:
(a) The person who represents someone stands for the one whom he or she represents. The preposition âforâ here means âin the place ofâ or âfrom ⦠toâ, âin relation toâ. A person speaks and acts âin the name ofâ and âon behalf ofâ another; that is, âforâ a person, community, or institution. This definition can be further delineated in two ways:
Firstly, âin the place ofâ does not mean âinstead ofâ in the sense of substitution. âReplacementâ, as a term, contrasts with ârepresentationâ, as I understand it here. When a person replaces another, then first person takes the latterâs place for themself and no longer represents the other.23 This latter person is then, as it were, taken out of the game and no longer plays a role. The âforâ is removed. A representative, however, does not replace the person they represent, but brings that latter personâs role, meaning, and agency to bear.
Yet we must, on the other hand, distinguish the performance of this function from that of a mere service for a client. The representative is more than a servant or messenger. Although they do not act autonomously, they do act on their own responsibility in the name of another. Representation is an assignment to be fulfilled on oneâs own responsibility. If a âsubstituteâ goes too far in taking the person to be represented out of the picture, someone who merely âprovides a serviceâ does not go far enough; it leaves the representative underdefined.
(b) The representation is made âforâ an (individual or collective) addressee. It applies to this addressee, and they should let it apply to them, i.e., the addressee should recognize the represented person or institution in the representative and acknowledge their or its authority. The preposition âforâ here means âbeing directed toward someoneâ.
(c) The preposition âforâ can have the still further meaning of âin favour ofâ. This meaning is highly significant for the Christological profiling of the concept of representation. It is not, however, a necessary implication of this concept in generalâbut it can be connected with it. This is indispensable in view of the representation of God in Christ because it is part of the essence and thus in the intention of the represented subject (God) to be in a relationship with the addressee of the representation (the human) that is salutary for the latter. This is expressed by the designation of Jesus as âImmanuelââGod with us/among usâwhich is especially anchored in the Gospel of Matthew (Mt. 1:23).
Wherever the representative (Jesus) makes the represented subject (God) present in this essential self-identification (any other course of action being impossible for him, because this self-identification has become his own), the âforâ means an âexistence forâ the addressee, an âadvocacy forâ them, thus an act of procuratio (ministration). Christology or soteriology is not merely about the presence of God as such, but about the presence of Godâs salvific presence, salvific will, and salvific action. God does not exist a se (in pure being for Godself), in the sense that his will of salvation would be added as secondary. God is salvific presence. Godâs being is pro nobis (for us).
Jesus was completely focused on God and the already present but not yet fully realized presence of salvation. His âbeing forâ in the relationship with humans is based on this being not centered on himself. By relying completely on God he made Godâs salvific attention to humans present âforâ them. This relational dynamic can also be described as a double devotionâto God and to humans. Jesusâ existence was ex-centric, centered in God. That allowed him not to live centripetally centred on himself, but centrifugally towards others.
With the interpretation of âforâ in the sense of âin favour ofâ, Christology coincides with soteriology. Jesus represents the salvific presence, the salvific will, and the salvific action of God towards humans.
3.2.6 âSalvationâ
This chapter clarifies the concept of âsalvationââa not unproblematic term that is susceptible to abuse and often misused, but one which plays a central role in the definition of the repraesentandum.24 For this, too, I propose an existential and relational interpretation. Salvation is about the healing (or renewal) of the four fundamental relationships of the human: to oneself, to oneâs social environment (i.e., fellow human beings), to oneâs natural environment, and to God as the foundation of all and thus also as the foundation of oneâs own being.25 The inherent tendency of being human is to seek to establish these relationships on oneâs own power and interests, but this leads to these relationships being disturbed and disrupted; to selfishness. It leads also to the instrumentalization of fellow human beings; to reckless extravagance in oneâs use of natural resources; and to wanting to be like God. Beyond merely affecting each of the fundamental relationships, these disturbances can also affect the balance between them, e.g., when the relationship to oneself becomes dominant at the expense of the relationship to fellow human beings. Religious fanaticism also represents such a disturbance, in that it turns the relationship to God against those who believe differently.
The theological term âsinâ refers to fundamental disturbances in the constitution and practice of these relationships and in their relationship to each other. These ultimately lead to relational disengagement, i.e., relational death. The Greek word hamartia (
to sin means in essence to be able to dignify no one and nothing. Sin is the inability to accept fellow creatures as they are by virtue of their creaturely dignity. The sinner is also unable to appreciate himself in this way.26
Human existence stands in the polarity of creatureliness and the rejection of the dignity and responsibility given with it. God calls a responsive counterpart into being and gives him a living environment and orientation for the unfolding of life towards its fullness and perfection. In human beings, however, there is a tendency to turn away from their own reason for existing and from their proper orientation towards Godâs purposes for creation.
This âoriginal sinfulnessâ is paradigmatically expressed in the suffering inflicted on Jesus. The religious and political authorities responsible for this followed their own interests in maintaining their power in a repressive system. The motive of the Roman occupiers (represented by Pontius Pilate) was to nip all resistance in the bud quite brutally. The Sanhedrin and the temple aristocracy around the high priest Caiaphas tried to walk a tightrope between collaboration and self-assertion. To them, Jesus was a blasphemer (Mk. 2:7, 14:61â64; Jn. 10:33), to whom the precept of Lev. 24:16 was to be applied. The commandment âYou shall not killâ took a back seat.
The figurative phrase âbeing raisedâ (in the image of âresurrectionâ) refers to the fact that God takes away the definitive element of this âoriginal sinfulnessâ which is given with being human. His salvific action overrides its manifestations and their effects. Godâs relationship with Jesus continued through Jesusâ suffering, through his despair at feeling abandoned by God (Mk. 15:34), and through his death by torture. Believing participation in this event is grounded in the certainty Paul expresses in Rom. 8:38:
neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
This is the core of the Gospel as a message of Godâs saving purposes, which determine the whole of realityâon this side and on the other side of the frontier of death. The âusâ in Rom. 8:38 applies not only to Christians, but to all who make this promise of salvation their own. The promise of salvation itself applies to all.
Against a triumphalist assurance of salvation, with an unbalanced sense of its having already been realizedâsuch as Paul obviously encountered in Corinth27 âsalvation is ultimately the object of eschatological promise and hope. In history and under the conditions of human existence salvation only ever happens fragmentarily, and in an anticipatory mode, âunder the crossâ. It stands in the eternal dialectic of being already-present and simultaneously still-pending. âSalvationâ describes a state that is an aim, a target. Godâs salvific action does not consist in the bestowal of salvation as a state of being, but in ever-new impulses toward salvation as a process of becoming. This entails the ever-new vanquishing of obstacles: liberation (âredemptionâ) from dependencies, compulsions, imprisonments; healing of separations (âreconciliationâ); processing of guilt (âforgivenessâ); granting of dignity (âjustificationâ); assurance of being in relation to God even beyond death (âresurrectionâ); and distinction between that which is precious before God and that which may appear important but is ultimately worthless (âjudgmentâ). The ways of salvation are ways âunder the crossâ. They run on the stony ground of existential contingencies and ambiguities, on the field of power struggles, unjust distribution of opportunities in life and social dislocations, in the face of global threats, and so on. They are not triumphs. They include protest and struggle against everything that stands in the way of the unfolding of life and of just orders of life and that thus causes suffering.
Discussion of the universality and unconditionality of Godâs saving presence, which is so central for the present account of Christology, must therefore not be understood as if the reality and power of âsinââand thus the human need for redemptionâwere denied or weakened. A realistic view of humanity and the world absolutely must include a view of this reality. The message of salvation applies to an unsaved world. Unconditional acceptance by God must not be understood as uncritical acceptance. This is expressed in the Reformation polarity of law and gospel. Here, âlawâ stands for the uncovering of all that alienates and separates humans from God, from fellow human beings, from the world around them, and from themselves. âGospelâ stands for the liberating promise that ânothing can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lordâ (Rom. 8:38).
In the life, speech, action, suffering, death, and âresurrectionâ of Jesus Christ, Godâs will for salvation, which has existed from all eternity and which exudes these impulses, has come to normative self-expression. Therein lies the basic impetus of the Christian life of faith. In the salvific presence of God, the damaged or broken basic relationships of humankind can experience healing energy. This healing also applies to the (mutually supportive) interaction of these basic relationships. In this context, the healing of the relationship with God is of fundamental importance, because the bond given with it leads to ultimate freedom in the other relationships. âSalvationâ means being saved in the divine ground of all being; free from all that separates us from that ground, and trusting that this relationship will last even beyond death. This liberating bond is represented in Jesus Christ.
This discussion of perdition and salvation, however, should not only be related to humans, even if they are the focus of it. It also has cosmic dimensions. The world is called into being by God and allowed to function within its own dynamics, i.e., it is endowed with freedom. By orienting themselves to their own natural and historical dynamics and to human self-interest, human and worldly affairs often oppose the realization of Godâs saving purposes in many ways. That makes salvation necessary; according to Rom. 8:22, the world âgroans and is in birth pangs to this dayâ. But the world is also endowed with a salvific purpose. Godâs purposes in creation are directed towards salvation. Godâs salvific action finds expression in the creative and redemptive efficacy always emanating from it (creatio et salvatio continua). In view of the necessity of salvation, Godâs presence is always connected with âovercoming the worldâ, as it is represented in Christ (Jn. 16:33). âOvercoming the worldâ is not to be understood as the apocalyptic end of the world, but as its constantly renewed liberation from bonds which are inimical to life.
3.2.7 Related Terms
Every Christology faces the task of linking the historical particularity of the person of Jesus with the universal divine ground of all reality, whichâaccording to biblical testimonyâhas provided reality with its destiny and which has promised this destinyâs realization despite all obstacles. It must make Jesus understandable as the Christ, i.e., as the one who stands for this promise and is of central importance for its realization. For this purpose, it must on the one hand determine the relationship in which this person stands to God, and on the other hand present his function or mission in the world and toward humans.
Different conceptual forms and terms lend themselves to defining the relationship between Jesus Christ and God. This chapter considers those terms that touch on or partly overlap with the idea of ârepresentationâ favoured here, which will gain sharper contours in contrast with these terms. In doing so, I limit myself to theologically coined terms and leave aside those that have a rather unspecific and broader meaning (such as âpersonificationâ or âmanifestationâ)âalthough they, too, express important shades of meaning when it comes to the concept of representationâand I will therefore use them repeatedly.
3.2.7.1 Image; Icon; Parable
Paul and the Deutero-Pauline writings call Christ the eikon (
Jewish wisdom theology stands in the background of the âimage Christologyâ of Col. 1:15 and Heb. 1:3. The âfirstborn of all creationâ addressed in Col. 1:15 is the Wisdom of God which, according to Prov. 8:22â36 was created by God and was with him before the creation of the cosmos. Heb. 1:3 alludes to Wis. 7:25ff., which calls the preexistent Wisdom âa breath of the power of God and a pure emanation of the glory of the Almightyâ as well as âa reflection of the eternal light, a spotless mirror of the working of God, and an image of his goodnessâ.28 We will return to this in chapter 4.5.1.
To understand the designation of Jesus Christ as the image of God, we must take into account that the statements in this regard exist in a hymnic context. Thus, the designation is not initially a matter of theological doctrine, but of doxology. In Paulâs writings the term âgloryâ (
With their reference to the âiconic differenceâ between the image and what it shows, theological approaches that focus on the notion of âimageâ offer a starting point for representational Christology. Taking such an approach, the indication is that Jesus Christ is the image of God, who as such becomes the archetype of true humanity and thus the model for conformity to Christ (Rom. 8:29), as well as the ethical model for Christiansâ actions.29 The term âimageâ here means not only (the rather external) depiction of a reality which is separate from it. That would underdefine Jesusâ close relationship to God. What makes him the âimage of Godâ is that God is present in him.
Even the photographic image of a person not only designates the person depicted and refers to them, but also identifies them. Like a name, the photograph on an identity card, say, stands for and identifies that person. Therefore, deference to a personâs image can be perceived as vicarious deference to the person themselvesâand desecration of an image concomitantly as desecration of the person.
The theological understanding of âiconâ goes even further. An icon of Christ in an Orthodox church not only shows a picture of Christ but is like a window through which the real Christ appears andâthrough the eyes of faithâbecomes âvisibleâ. Icons are not pictures to be looked at, but transparencies through which one looks into a reality beyond. The icon represents this reality and thereby affects the viewer. It imprints itself in the viewerâs imagination, unfolding a âpower of imaginationâ over them; at the same time, it leads them beyond the self to Christ. There is no âiconic differenceâ.
If one understands Christ himself as an icon of God, as in Col. 1:15, then it follows that Christ makes present the living, potent presence of God (or God makes present Godself in him). God is imprinted on him; he is imprinted with Godâs stamp, so to speak.
The concept of representation, as understood in this study, is therefore semantically close to the idea of Christ as the âimageâ or âiconâ of God. However, it is also open to other fields of metaphor that go beyond the figurative and thus transcend visual metaphor, in which the indwelling of God in Jesus is expressed. Descriptions of Jesus Christ as the incarnate âWordâ of God and the subsequent acoustic imagery (âaddressingâ, âproclaimingâ, âhearingâ, âansweringâ, etc.) find a place in this field of meaning as well as, for example, in the imagery of recognizing and understanding (e.g., in the speech of Jesus as the âexegesis of the Fatherâ proposed by John A. T. Robinson,30 or in the designation of Jesus as the âhuman faceâ of God31 ).
Another term that can be assigned to this field of meaning is âparableâ. If understood as the equivalent of the German âGleichnisâ, it means not only an allegorical story but a real similitude [gleich]. In that sense Wolfgang Schrage designates Jesus as âthe eschatological parable of God.â32 In all aspects of his existence he corresponds to Godâs love and call. The synonymity of âimageâ (Heb.:
According to John Dominic Crossan, â[t]he parabler becomes the parable. Jesus announced the kingdom of God in parables, but the primitive church announced Jesus as the Christ, the Parable of God.â33
3.2.7.2 Sacrament
In theology and in the Churchâs usage, the concept of sacrament was and is related to ritual symbolic acts with which the Church (orâtheologically interpretedâChrist himself) incorporates the faithful into the covenant made by God through Christ (baptism) and strengthens them in their membership in the body of Christ (the Eucharist). In Catholic understanding, there are additional symbolic acts in and through which Godâs grace is conferred: confirmation, forgiveness of sins after repentance, anointing of the sick, marriage, and ordination. One of the concerns of Reformation theology was to tie sacramental theology and the Churchâs sacramental practice to the proclamation of Christ and to understand them as part of the process of Christ making himself present. This led to seeing Christ himself as the sacrament of God. In the eighteenth thesis to the âDisputatio de fide infusa et acquisita,â Martin Luther wrote, âonly one sacrament is known to Holy Scripture, and that is Christ the Lord Himselfâ.34 This view can be traced back through Augustine35 and to the use of the term mysterion (
Karl Barth raised the question of whether the Church had done well âwhen it ceased to recognise in the incarnation, in the nativitas Jesu Christi, in the mystery of Christmas, the one and only sacrament, fulfilled once and for allâ.38 In his later work he decisively answered this question in the negative, demanding that the concept of sacrament no longer be applied to individual church acts but only to Christ. Eberhard Jüngel joined in and proposed the axiom that âJesus Christ is the one sacrament of the Churchâ.39
The majority of Protestant theologians, however, did not follow this radicalism, and in Catholic theology it was certainly inconceivable. But there, too, the accent shifted from Church to Christ in the context of the Second Vatican Council. This was reflected in talk of Christ as the âprimordial sacramentâ [Ursakrament], which Carl Feckes in particular introduced into Catholic theology.40 In some ecclesiological studies this concept was applied to the Church.41 However, the Church could also be called the âfundamental sacramentâ [Grundsakrament], âroot sacramentâ [Wurzelsakrament], or âwhole sacramentâ [Ganzsakrament] in order to preserve the term âprimordial sacramentâ [Ursakrament] for Christ, as in the work of Leo Scheffczyk42 and Karl Rahner.
After presenting the Church as the âprimordial sacramentâ [Ursakrament] in his earlier writings,43 Rahner later applied this term to Christ44 and called the Church the âfundamental sacrament [Grundsakrament] of the salvation of the worldâ.45 Synonymously with the term âprimordial sacramentâ [Ursakrament] he also spoke of Christ as the âreal symbolâ [Realsymbol] of Godâs promise of gifting Godself.46 According to Rahner, Jesus Christ
as the God-Man [is] the primordial sacrament par excellence, because he is the signified (God in his self-communication to humanity) and the effective, exhibitive sign of this self-communication of God and humanityâs acceptance of it (in his humanity and the historical life in which that humanity occurred) in person and unity.47
In Christ, then, three dimensions come together: the sacred presence of God, the human sacrament, and the act of sacramentalization, that is, the acceptance of the sacred presence of God by Jesus.
In the theological discussions on the concept of sacraments in the context of the Second Vatican Council, a gradation finally emerged: Jesus Christ as the primordial sacrament [Ursakrament], the Church as the fundamental or foundational sacrament [Grundsakrament],48 and the individual sacraments as the fundamental ordinances of the Church.
Depicting the significance of human or ecclesial action and of the Church in general in the event of salvation has always provoked controversy between Protestant and Roman Catholic theologies. While Catholic theology holds on to the sacramentality of the Church, even if (since Vatican II) it has more strongly emphasized that this is a quality assigned to it by Christ, Protestant theology emphasizes the sole soteriological efficacy of God in Christ and denies the sacramental quality of the Church.
How should the concept of sacrament be related to the concept of ârepresentationâ? In the history of theology, the latter played an important role, especially in the doctrine of the Eucharist. As early as Tertullian it was being used to describe the relationship between bread and the body of Christ49 âalthough in that instance not in a specific or technical sense. In scholastic discussions ârepresentationâ became a terminus technicus of sacramental theology.50 It could also be applied to the Church as a representation of the body of Christ, for example in the bull âUnam Sanctamâ of Boniface VIII, which states: âshe [the Church] represents [repraesentat] the one mystical body whose Head is Christâ.51 This expresses an understanding of the Church based on sacramental theology.
Calvin used the concept of representation in his doctrine of the Lordâs Supper.52 In the process of the Eucharist (not only in the elements), Christ makes himself present and gives us a share in the reality of Godâs salvation. In contrast to an (objective) understanding of the Eucharist, according to which it also works without the inner participation of the person receiving itâas it were like a medicine (ex opere operato)âReformation theology emphasized that the sacraments must be received in faith. Sacraments, however, are not only communications, but also âacts of inclusionâ.53 This is also true of ârepresentationâ in the sense understood here.
Even in its broad, singular, Christ-centered sense, the concept of sacrament is close to that of representation as I define it. The conceptual content and scope of ârepresentationâ, however, is broader and more nonspecific than that of âsacramentâ, which I see as an advantage. Its shoulders are not burdened by the history of the concept of sacrament; it has not been the subject of confessional disputes. Moreover, ârepresentationâ aims more strongly than âsacramentâ does at a process (the process of making present) as opposed to an entity (Christ, the Church, the âgood of salvationâ, the means of salvation, etc.); nor is it linked to a particular ecclesiastical practice, as occurs with the diversely used concept of sacrament.
One strength of the concept of sacrament over that of representation, however, is that it accentuates the material dimension and the corporeality and historicity of the presence of God or Christ. A sacrament is always bound to a physical elementâwater in baptism; bread and wine in the Lordâs Supperâwhile a representational relationship can also exist between entirely spiritual entities. This objection certainly applies to ârepresentationâ in general, but not necessarily to representational Christology. In the latter, the term is sharpened to refer to personal and fundamentally bodily representations, to the representation of God in the person of Jesus. Christ in his corporeality is the representative of God: Docetism is thus averted.
The concept of representation also leads beyond the distinction between exemplum and sacramentum. It allows for an understanding of Christ as the (real) presence of Godâand in this sense as a sacrament. As such Jesus sets an âexampleâ of true humanity towards which human beings in general (not only Christians) can orient themselves in the shaping of their basic relationships. The assumption of a supernatural causality and quasi-magical effect on the human being can thereby be dispensed with altogether. On the other hand, ârepresentationâ also means far more than mere signification. Whoever recognizes in Christ the representative of God stands in relation to God, in the force field of his presence. Godâs presence exerts its spiritual impact by transforming those who are affected by it.
In terms of the history of theology, the concept of representation can be understood as a late response to the âcrisis of the sacramental ideaâ.54 According to the Platonic-Augustinian understanding, the image contained the reality of what it showed; it was its âfaceâ. That idea was dominant until the Middle Ages. The object depicted was really present in the image, and vice versa: the depiction was the hypostasisâthe manifested presenceâof the object. The manifestation (or the depiction) is of the same being or essence as that which it manifests or depicts: God is present as âdivine natureâ in the person of Jesus Christ in a real and substantial sense. The body of Christ is present in the host in a real and substantial sense. The presence of Christ in mysterio/sacramento/figura is his real presence.
Even in the early Middle Ages (e.g., Ratramnus of Corbie), however, approaches were developed in which (spiritual) signs and (true) reality diverged. Accordingly, the sacrament was no longer the tangible substantialization of the risen body of Christ, but the representation of this reality (to be âseenâ with the eyes of faith). It lost its real content. These developments were reflected in the disputes over communion during the Reformation period, focusing on whether the body and blood of Christ were substantially contained in the elements of the Lordâs Supper, whether it was a matter of a spiritual real presence of Christ, or merely a symbolization of union with Christ. The assumption of a physical presence of Christ in the elements had become controversial. The ânaturalâ unity between Jesus Christ and God (in terms of two natures of Christ) thus also became questionable.
In regard to that history, the concept of representation offers itself as an appropriate middle ground. The representation of God in Christ is more than a sign or an image: it makes the presence of God manifest. But the representative thereby remains distinct from the reality of God that he represents. There is no (numerical or substantial) oneness in the sense of equating one with another; but there is a personal identification, in which God identifies with Jesus and Jesus with God.
3.2.7.3 Symbol
As with both image and sacrament, symbols also connect two domains with each other: that of the entity depicted and that of the depiction, the symbolized content and the symbolizing substance. According to Karl Jaspers the âsymbolâ expresses
the presence of another in vivid fullness, in which the reference and the referent are inseparably one, the symbolized is present in the symbol itself. [â¦] Symbol [â¦] means standing in for an Other, even if this can only be there in the symbol and in no other way. In symbols we are meaningly directed to the Other, which thereby becomes object and is present in it.55
However, the symbol does not only indicate this other reality, but also discloses it in a particular sense. In the symbol, a material and thus sensory âcarrier substanceâ is bound up with a meaning inherent in this carrier. It is thus a âmeaning-carrierâ, i.e., it has a meaning which points beyond itself. The carrier substance could be objects, actions, words, or images, but also people or communities. Everything can become a symbol once it is used and understood as such, i.e., once a reference function is attached to a phenomenon so that it stands for something else which reveals itself in it. Whether this meaning lies in the symbol itself and âshows itselfâ directly, or whether it is attributed to it and only illuminated through an act of interpretation, depends on the understanding of the symbol and its philosophical embedding. An epistemological realist would assume the former, a nominalist the latter.
The relationship between the appearance of a symbol and its meaning can be defined in different ways: from an ontological participation in a reality underlying the symbol and manifested in it, to a similarity based on a transfer of properties, to a mere signification of a meaning. Ontic participation moves the symbol closer to the sacrament, while signification moves it closer to a sign.
The philosophical theories of symbols developed in and since the nineteenth century tend more in the latter direction, that is, toward the mere signification of a meaning, as we shall see in a moment with Charles Sanders Peirce. They do not presuppose that there must be a similarity in appearance between the symbol and that which it symbolizes (as in the case of a memorial stone to a person which shows the head of that person) or a substantial connection (as in the case of a golden coin which has the value that it indicates).
Empirical objects or issues of reference can be designated by a symbol which gets its meaning by convention (as in the case of a road sign). The symbol does not need to resemble the symbolized reality or participate substantially in it. If, however, the object designated is a reality that is beyond human cognizability, as in the case of religious âobjectsâ which are accessible only through symbols, then the religious traditions need to claim that the symbols are authentic manifestations of the divine reality. They undergird that claim by proclaiming that the symbol is instituted by this transcendent reality itself and participates in its very being. The Church invites believers to recognize the symbol as a manifestation of the divine reality. The symbol is analogous to the reality. The symbol thus comes close to the sacrament. This is the case with Karl Rahner,56 who coined the term âreal symbolâ [Realsymbol], as well as with Paul Tillich,57 while Karl Barth, who strictly rejects the analogia entis doctrine, never uses the concept of symbol.
Paul Tillich, who has presented a notable (but also criticized) theory of symbols in recent Protestant theology,58 first distinguishes between signs and symbols, and second between living (i.e., genuine, true) and dead symbols.
(a) While signs merely point to a reality that is different from them, symbols participate in the reality represented by them and allow participants in the symbolic action to do the same. They make this reality accessible; and only thus does it become effective. Symbols exist in the fields of religion, poetry, and art, as well as in community life.59 Religion is particularly dependent on symbols, because âthat which is of vital concern to humans must be expressed symbolicallyâ.60
(b) True symbols transcend themselves in relation to the symbolized reality. They function as mediators to this reality; thus they have not only a depicting but also a mediating function. Where they no longer perform this function, but draw attention to themselves, where they thus become self-referential instead of negating and transcending themselves, they sink to the level of pseudo-symbols.
True religious symbols participate in the power and meaning of the divine reality, point away from themselvesâi.e., away from their creaturely materialityâtoward this reality, and thus offer a share in it. This process can also be described the other way around: as the manifestation of the divine reality in the symbol. The divine ground and power of being manifests itself in a finite entity, thus making itself accessible to the recipient and putting them in relation to itself.
Thus, these symbols are not mere presentations, but instances of presenting in the present tense, i.e., not only static images of meaning, but âlivingâ, dynamic communications of divine reality, acting as transformers both from and towards it. They themselves are part of a life cycle; they are involved in a process of development, usage, and possibly also dying off. Three âagentsâ are involved in that process: the symbolized divine reality, which manifests itself in the symbols; the religious authorities, which use and interpret the symbols; and the recipients, who let themselves be affected by them, but also understand their meaning in their own way.
Two kinds of usage endanger the transcendental function, and thus the truth, of the religious symbol. One is that the symbol is identified with the symbolized reality. In doing so it becomes an idol: its materiality is declared sacred and thus idolized. The other danger is that the symbol detaches itself from the symbolized reality and solidifies as a contingent reference to it. It becomes a metaphor and/or is only performed in lifeless routine, as the object of an externalized faith. The spirit has, so to speak, moved out of it. It has lost its power and will die off sooner or later.
Tillich connects the concept of symbol with the concept of representation: a genuine symbol reveals itself through its intrinsic power to represent the divine. The central symbol of the Christian faith is âChristâ. This symbol refers to the person of Jesus and the historical fact of his existence. As âChristâ Jesus is the one âwho represents God to manâ.61
The âChristâ symbol stands alongside other symbols like âSon of Davidâ, âSon of Manâ, âSon of Godâ, âKyriosâ, and âLogosâ. These are attached to Jesus in order to qualify him as the bearer of the âNew Beingâ.62 Unlike Roger Haight, Tillich does not refer to the person of Jesus Christ as a symbol of God, but as a symbol of the New Being, i.e., of essential, true humanity: it is a soteriological symbol. To define the relationship of Jesus to God, Tillich uses the concept of representation.
On the one hand, Jesus represents the love of God in his self-giving love that even takes existential self-destruction upon itself.63 In this self-sacrifice, he carries out the basic process of the (true) religious symbol, which denies its finite existence as material bearer of meaning and transcends itself in relation to the infinite reality of God. This is expressed in the symbols of both âcrossâ and âresurrectionâ. On the other hand, in his unity with God, Jesus represents the unbroken essential unity between God and humanity under the actual conditions of existence. âHe represents to those who live under the conditions of existence what man essentially is and therefore ought to be under these conditionsâ.64 This is expressed in the symbol of âincarnationâ. Tillich summarizes these two dimensions in the statement that Jesus as essential man ârepresents not only man to man but God to manâ.65 In both respects, Jesus not only exemplifies what he represents, but also communicates it by giving others a share in it.
Jesusâ sharing of the presence of God is thereby connected with the act of receiving on the part of his followers. Only in the act of recognition, i.e., the believing acceptance of Jesus as manifestation of the New Being, does he become the Christ for his followers.66 There is no Christ without the community that recognizes him, i.e., without belief in and witness to Jesus as Christ. This believing testimony is expressed in the fact that the name of Jesus is associated with the âChristâ title.
Here, I will not offer a general discussion of Tillichâs theory of symbols; my concern is only with the relationship between (religious) symbols and representation. I refer to Tillich in what follows but go beyond him to evaluate his approach for the present account of representational Christology.
Representation is the execution of the symbol, the act of symbolizing. Only in that act is the symbol alive: in usu, in a process of communication. This use consists of a representation. Only where the religious symbol actually carries out this representation does it function as a symbol. Applied to the âChristâ-symbol this means that it only proves to be true where it really communicates the New Being and does not only become the object of a doctrine about Jesus Christ. It has not only a cognitive expressive function that declares Jesus to be the Christ, but an evocative and performative function that âpresentsâ the New Being. When understood like this, the Christ symbol is a sacrament. It reveals the presence of the New Being in Christ Jesus and relates the recipient to it.
Of particular importance for representational Christology is the critical aspect of Tillichâs symbol theory. Above we considered two ways in which symbols are used that undermine their transcendental function: idolatry and externalization. Idolatry in particular draws Tillichâs criticism. Like every symbol, the Christ symbol is in danger of being objectified, i.e., understood literally. The distinction between symbol and symbolized reality gets lost. The sacrament becomes a magical sacramentalism; the symbol becomes an idol. What Tillich calls the prophetic protest against this tendency must also be given its due place in representational Christology. He insists on the fact that the representative must not be equated with the reality represented by him without differentiation. The reality that he represents lies beyond him. Where Jesus is known as the Christ, this means that he represents the universal and unconditional will of God for salvation in a definitive form for the Christian faith.
Emphasizing that this is a definitive representation, a claim to truth is made, but it must not be understood as an absolute claim. It is an expression of Christian faith based on the communication of the New Being in Christ. Creeds are always bound to the believing person or community, even if they claim to have a universal validity.
But Tillich goes even further. He takes into account that the âChrist-eventâ is bound to world history and does not want to exclude the possibility that there could be further divine manifestations in other areas and at other times in the universe.67 In his Systematic Theology he does not yet relate this possibility to other religions. In his later works, however, in which he theologically processes his engagement with the phenomenology and history of religion as well as his encounters with Buddhism and Shintoism in Japan, he also considers religions as mediators of Godâs revelations:
Religions are based on something that is given to man wherever he lives. He is given a revelation, a particular kind of experience which always implies saving powers. One never can separate revelation and salvation. There are revealing and saving powers in all religions. God has not left himself unwitnessed.68
For the Christian faith, Christ is the ultimate revelation of God. Yet this claim âdoes not exclude, but includes, similar claims to unique revelation made elsewhereâ.69
Let us take a step back from the consideration of Tillichâs symbol theory and ask instead whether the concept of symbol can function as a guiding concept for Christology in general. That concept is exceedingly diffuse.
If [â¦] symbol can mean both empty formulaic signs and very substantial images of meaning, both the material form of sign and the whole of form and content, both arbitrary and strongly motivated iconic signs, and both certain types of signs and signs in general, then one may well claim with some justification that this concept is in crisis.70
This accurate diagnosis by Armin Burkhardt does indeed cast considerable doubt on whether this concept should be the basis of Christology. It creates more problems than it solves. These problems do not even consist first and foremost in the wide-ranging content of the concept (with regard to the concept of representation, too, possible meanings had to be eliminated in order to prepare it for Christological use), but above all in the ontological presuppositions of the respective symbol theories, which cannot easily be stripped away. Thus, Hermann Deuser rightly observes that Tillichâs symbol theory depends on an ontology that separates nature and spirit, being and its meaning, in order to then assign these spheres to each other.71
Deuser, on the other hand, refers to the semiotics of Charles Sanders Peirce. Peirce distinguished between âindexâ, âiconâ and âsymbolâ,72 which he called âthree kinds of representationsâ.73
An âindexâ is physically (mostly causally) connected to the object or state to which it refers, like the fever that indicates a disease. One can also speak of âsymptomsâ or âsignalsâ. In addition to these natural indices, there are also intentional ones that are used deliberately in communication situations, such as wearing a uniform to represent a professional role. In linguistics, indexical expressions are those whose meaning is derived only from the context of the utterance, such as demonstrative pronouns like âthisâ or âthatâ.
An âiconâ on the other hand, has a qualitative similarity to the object to which it refers, as with pictograms (for example, a stylized wheelchair indicates facilities for humans with a walking disability). In language, onomatopoeic expressions (such as âcuckooâ) belong to this type of sign.
In contrast, the meaning of âsymbol,â according to Peirce, is based on an arbitrary convention, as in the logos of companies and institutions, road signs, and most linguistic expressions.
In all three of these types of signs, there is no presence of the object referred to in the sign itself. âIndexâ, âiconâ, and âsymbolâ are signs that do not attest to and impart the real presence of the signifier.74 âRepresentationâ for Peirce denotes a reference, but not an act of making something or someone present. He decidedly does not assume an ontic participation of the signifier in the signified. There is also no relation between image and archetype. We can thus dispense here with the ontology on which Tillich bases his concept of symbol. On the other hand, this also makes it difficult to apply this concept of symbol to Christ. Christ not only points to God; he makes God present. He not only shows God, he also allows God to speak and act through him. Tillichâs symbol theory can express this more easily than Peirceâs semiotics. Tillichâs symbol theory, however, cannot be detached from its ontological presuppositions and, with the idea of analogia imaginis,75 falls back on a conception of analogy that places the symbol in the vicinity of the sacrament.
I prefer the term ârepresentationâ to that of âsymbolâ. Not terminologically, but factually speaking, it is more compatible with biblical traditions and with traditional theological forms of expression than the concept of symbol. It can be linked with the idea of the âincarnation of the Wordâ, the âindwelling of wisdomâ in Jesus, and his being âfilled with the Spiritâ of God. All these expressions are about the being of God in Jesusâbut they involve thinking about this not so much ontologically as actually and relationally.
The term ârepresentationâ emphasizes the status of an act in which God is made present more strongly than the concept of symbol. It refers to an interaction between God, Jesus Christ, and humanity. While âsymbolâ tends to be associated more often with an object, with material symbolic matter, the concept of representation can be related more clearly to the action of a person, and to his/her âbeing-thereâ [Da-Sein].
3.2.7.4 Revelation
We can make a fundamental distinction between an informational and a communicative understanding of revelation. An informational understanding involves the transmission of a message following the model of sender and receiver, whereas a communicative understanding involves a relational act in which the communicating person reveals him- or herself. According to an informational understanding, revelation consists of the disclosure and impartation of supernatural truths or instructions (declarations of will, counsels, commissions, interpretations, etc.). A communicative understanding does not exclude an informational understanding but goes beyond it and clearly speaks with a distinct accent; in this understanding, God not only reveals something, God always reveals Godself as well. Revelation means the processes of making-oneself-present, self-disclosure, self-revelation, self-communication of God, all of which generate relationship with humanity. It means the opening up of Godself to humanity and the world and that means the constantly renewed initiation of a relationship between God and humanity. If one understands ârevelationâ in this communicative sense, then the term comes close to that of ârepresentationâ.
When we speak of ârevelationâ as Godâs self-communication, we not only name God as the author and subject, but also as the content of the revelation. God communicates Godself. The relationality of God is not only proclaimed but actualized. Revelation is more than a giving of oneself to be known about. Self-communication is more than a proclamation: it is giving of oneself to the other. The communication says: God in Godself [an sich] is God âfor usâ. This understanding of revelation is therefore not propositional but existential, not verbalistic but actual, not static but dynamic, not doctrinal but relational and communicative. âTo revealâ is thus used as a reflexive verb. Godâs essence is expressed in all forms of Godâs creative, salvific, and inspirational relation to the world.
In this understanding, revelation is not an âabsoluteâ communication, i.e., it is not independent of addressee and reception. It takes place only where it is recognized and acknowledged as such by the addressees. It becomes a revelation only when it is received. âRevelationâ thus belongs to the class of words Gilbert Ryle called âachievement wordsâ, âsuccess wordsâ, or âgot it wordsâ.76 The same is true for ârepresentationâ.
In Christian understanding, Jesus Christ is the realization of Godâs promise to give Godself. In him, that is, in the âChrist-eventâ, Godâs salvific self-communication takes place. This event includes Jesusâ speaking, teaching, acting, suffering, and dying, as well as his being in eternal communion with God (âresurrectionâ), in which he encounters us as Christus praesens. The presence of God in Christ aims at situating its addressees in relation to God and thus at transforming them salvifically. Protestant âTheology of the Word of Godâ describes this transformative participation in the acoustic metaphors of speaking and hearing, of word and answer. It is understood as a matter of a kerygmatic âword of actionâ seeking to reorientate those addressed in their understanding of life.
To justify this understanding of revelation exegetically, one can refer to the character of Jesusâ proclamation. At no point does he make use of the Old Testament messenger formula (âThus says the Lordâ), i.e., he does not appear as a messenger of God who, as it were, received a message from âoutsideâ and was commissioned to pass it on. Rather, he speaks out of an intimate relationship with God, âout of Godâ. Nor do we find here the usual stylistic elements of a prophetâs calling, such as the prophetâs resistance to the commission given to them and then the appeal to inspirations or direct revelations to legitimize the proclamation they are executing. Additionally, however, we might refer to explicit statements in which the biblical testimonies describe Jesusâ relationship to God, such as Mt. 11:27 and Jn. 14:9, as part of substantiating this understanding. Jesus Christ not only makes God known but represents him.
In twentieth-century theology, Karl Barth in particular understood revelation as Godâs self-communication in Christ.77 According to Barth, everything there is to say about God is to be said on the basis of Godâs self-revelation in Christ. The doctrine of the Trinity gives voice to this self-revelation. It presents God as the revealer [Offenbarer], the revelation [Offenbarung], and the revealedness [Offenbarsein]. God is the subject of revelation, a revelation accomplished once and for all in Jesus Christ and made accessible to humans in the power of the Spirit. In all three dimensions, God is the auctor. However, the âselfâ in the term âself-revelationâ has three differently accentuated meanings here: in the first case, it refers to the originator; in the second, to the occurrence of communication; and in the third, to knowledge of the revelation. Barth identifies these three dimensions with one another:
If we really want to understand revelation in terms of its subject, i.e., God, then the first thing we have to realize is that this subject, God, the Revealer, is identical with His act in revelation and also identical with its effect.78
Again, we ask how the concept of revelation relates to that of representation. The understanding of revelation as Godâs self-revelation brings it close to this concept. But even if this understanding of revelation transcends the epistemic dimension, (i.e., if it is related not only to knowledge of God but to Godâs relational action as a whole), it remains more strongly attached to the epistemic dimension than is the case with the concept of representation. In this respect the understanding of revelation as Godâs self-revelation is narrower than the concept of representation. âRevelationâ, even if it is understood as a giving of oneself, primarily designates the giving of oneself to be known and the believing recognition of Godâs saving actions in the world. Representation, however, designates Godâs making present of Godself and thus making known Godself in that presence: Godâs âbeing-thereâ.
The advantage of the concept of revelation over that of representation seems to consist in the fact that it is firmly anchored both biblically and in theological history. But this advantage becomes fragile when one sees the diversity of terms used to indicate a revelatory event in the New Testament tradition (the majority of which are not applied to Jesus Christ79 ):
to describe the New Testament view of divine revelation is basically an anachronism. A theological question thus brought to the text is reasonable and legitimate in its own frame of reference, but obviously derives from a model of discourse that belongs to another time and place.80
This âother timeâ does not begin until the period of medieval scholasticism, at which point the term ârevelationâ is first used in the singular as terminus technicus. It is even later in theological history that the idea of the âself-revelationâ of God emerges. It owes its existence to the theological reception of Hegelian philosophy, within which context the term does not mean Godâs communication to humanity, but rather Godâs spirit becoming conscious of itself in the human spirit. Only through the theological transformation of this concept at the hands of Philipp Konrad Marheineke in the nineteenth century and Karl Barth in the twentieth does ârevelationâ become interpretable as a relational event with a structure analogous to that of representation.
One can relate the two terms to each other in such a way that ârevelationâ designates the epistemic dimension of ârepresentationâ: the giving of divine presence to be known in its representative. Representation is thus to be understood as the event which makes revelation initially possible and in which it takes place, but which also reaches beyond the idea of giving oneself to be known. The more the concept of revelation is extended beyond the intellectual dimension of âgiving oneself to be knownâ to the relational dimension of âgiving oneselfâ, the closer it gets to the concept of representation.
I take up this thematic thread again in chapter 4.7 in order to shed more light on the dialectic between revelation and the hiddenness of Godâs presence.
3.2.7.5 Substitution
The terms discussed so farââimageâ, âsacramentâ, âsymbolâ, and ârevelationââall address different ways and dimensions of making present, but the term âsubstitutionâ [Stellvertretung] is different from all of them. It aims less at the âbeingâ of the representative, in which the âbeingâ of the one they represent becomes present, and more at performing a function in the place of another. Someone steps (up) in anotherâs place, discharges their rights and duties, and acts in their name and with their authority. In Christology, the term âsubstitutionâ has its place in the doctrine of the âworkâ of Jesus, i.e., in soteriology. According to 2 Cor. 5:21, Jesus has carried out an exchange of places or roles: he takes the place of the sinful human, takes on their sin, shoulders the responsibility of the consequences of sin, and grants them his own righteousness so as to justify them before God.
Stephan Schaede describes the semantic field covered by the term âsubstitutionâ in view of its Latin âantecedent termsâ.81 I summarize his delineations less out of historical, but out of systematic, interest. In doing so, I assume that the Latin precursor terms do not determine the later use of the term, but reveal important components of meaning that could be actualized in it:
(a) Vicariatio signifies the temporary replacement of one person by another who is subordinate to, authorized by, and refers to that person.
(b) Substitutio denotes the initial act of one person replacing another (where the choice to replace is mostly made by a third person/institution), but not the subsequent action of this person in the position assigned to him. In contrast with vicariatio, the substitution made here is not a temporary one; it is permanent and definite. The substitute person (substitutus) is not inferior in social rank to the one they have replaced, but either equivalent or superior to that person.
(c) Subrogatio means the (usually premature) removal of a person from their office and the appointment of another person in their place. The subrogating and the subrogated person are usually of equal rank. The term can also refer to the relief of a public officialâs workload by a person placed at their side.
(d) Procuratio means attentive advocacy for a person or institution through having been granted power of attorney. The procurator can conclude legally valid transactions in the name of the company owner with relative independence; the lawyer can conduct a legal dispute on behalf of a client; the guardian can act for their ward. In this context, the meaning of advocating for (âin favour ofâ) is, more or less, combined with that of the substitutive form of representation (âin place ofâ). The care can be for the client (for example, in the case of a social worker), but also (as in the case of a procurator) for the person or institution giving the mandate. In many cases, however, procuratio means representation of interests rather than representation of persons. The procurator does not take the place of the person they represent. For example, the attorney in a criminal case would certainly not take on their clientâs culpability or punishment.
(e) Repraesentatio has three possible meanings, according to Schaede. First, it refers to the mere depiction of something real that is absent and thus made to appear (as in an actress âplayingâ a real person as a role), where the representation refers to what is represented. Second, repraesentatio can denote the realization of something hitherto merely potential or ideal (as in the financial realization of a book value), or the transition from a symbolic to a real presence (such as when the ruler appears in person: repraesentare here means âto be present/to turn upâ). Third, this term can mean the replacement of something or someone by stepping into its place; in this case, what is represented is not referred to, nor is it realized, but instead it is replaced.
(f) Terms like lociservatura or locitenentia that are composed of derivatives of locus and a verb (servare = âto preserveâ or tenere = âto holdâ) denote forms of placeholding or replacing in different contexts. For example, in the seventeenth century, a person temporarily substituting for a judge was called lociservator, while locitenentia can mean commanding a post, holding a (military) position, or standing in for someone who is absent.
(g) Intercessio, in Roman law, refers to advocating for someone. A third person engages for the rights of another person. This act can take place negatively, as an objection to a decision of a legal or political authority; or positively, as an intercession for a person before an institution. The purpose of intercession is to persuade this authority to use its power of decision and action in favour of this person. The intercessor, who has a higher status than the person concerned, thus tries to protect the latter. If this person is accused, then the intercession consists of the request for forgiveness or for a more lenient punishment. In the context of Christology and soteriology, intercessio is understood as Christ interceding for the sinful human being before God (Rom. 8:34, Heb. 7:25, and especially Lk. 23:34).
This compilation of the Latin antecedent terms of the noun âsubstitutionâ makes clear that in its basic meaning the term initially indicates a change of positionâi.e., someone takes the place of another person. This process can be further defined, on the one hand, with regard to the constellation of relationships in which this change takes place and, on the other hand, with regard to its purpose:
The constellation of relationships can involve two or three figures: three, if the person appointing the substitute is not the former (or actual) job holder, but a third person; two, if the process takes place between the former (or actual) job holder and their substitute, i.e., if the job holder allows themself to be substituted. There can be either a hierarchical or an egalitarian relationship between the appointing and the appointed person.
The purpose can consist in the assumption of responsibility to take a burden away from the appointing person, but also in the standing in for the former (or actual) holder of the position. Both can be combined with the purpose of acting for the benefit of those to whom this function is exercised.
Against Schaedeâs profound treatment of the history of the term âsubstitutionâ one can object that the Christological meaning of this term cannot be adequately derived from the Latin precursor terms. At least as important is the Jewish understanding of being commissioned as a messenger of God as it is handed down in the Old and New Testament. According to this concept, the messenger receives a mission and the authority to carry it out: he thus becomes the representative of the sender.
In the Christological and soteriological context, the distinction between exclusive and inclusive substitution is important. It was introduced by Albrecht Ritschl in order to reject the notion of a vicarious satisfaction made by Christ, as Anselm had set forth in his doctrine of satisfaction. According to Ritschl, Christâs work of salvation is not to be understood in terms of exclusive substitution, according to which the substituting person acts to the exclusion (âinstead ofâ) of the one they represent. According to inclusive substitution, Jesus does not replace the human being, but includes them in his action. He acts in the place of the human being standing before God, whose relation to God is thereby changed. The human being can now exist before God again and find in that existence their actual selfhood.
In that inclusive understanding, substitution is connected with the granting of participation. The human being is included in the action of Jesus Christâeven, according to Paul, into the mystical body of Christ itself. It is not just a matter of standing together in solidarity, but of actively standing up for, that is, an act of participatory procuratio that aims at transforming the represented. Christof Gestrich sees this understanding of substitution as the predominant one in the Bible:
substitution in the Bible never means replacement! On the contrary, it means enabling and empowering the one who is actually affected. The truly guilty party is enabled to atone in their own person and through this to regain their status as a child of God.82
Dorothee Sölle understood âsubstitutionâ precisely in this inclusive sense and sharply distinguished it from âreplacementâ. Jesus does not replace humans by his actions, as if they could and should remain passive. He is a placeholder in the sense that he keeps a place free for human beings, which they are supposed to take in order to fill it with their own actions in a responsible way.83
Sölleâs actual thesis, however, focuses on Jesusâ relationship not to humans, but to God. It consists in understanding Jesus as representative of the absent (âdeadâ) or experienced-as-absent God, and as one who acts and suffers in his place in the world. It is precisely in this place that Christians are also to act. In an a-theistic faith they are to represent God acting in the world, especially in their commitment to those suffering under strife, injustice, and poverty (according to Mt. 25:31â46). The incarnation of God therefore takes place as Godâs coming to humanity. Jesus brought the God who was once enthroned in heaven into the everyday life of ordinary people. Through complete self-emptying, God depends on representation by humans to exert influence in the world:
when the time was fulfilled, God had done something for us for long enough. He put himself at risk, made himself dependent upon us, identified himself with the non-identical. From now on it is high time for us to do something for him.84
Sölle emphasizes the provisional character of this process of substitution. The substitute represents the actual âoffice holderâ only temporarily. This is also how she wants the âofficeâ of Jesus to be understood: as an intermediary executing of Godâs role. He does not occupy Godâs place but keeps it free so that it can be reassumed by God at any time. But God will never return as before, as the distant God ruling over the world. God has left this heavenly realm forever and has become God-in-the-world, continuously incarnate wherever human beings act in harmony with the spirit of Godâin love. Thus, the substitution of Jesus does not mean âreplacementâ in relation to God either.85 Like a human being, God cannot be replaced but can be represented. In this respect, inclusive substitution accords with the relational event of representation.
Substitution and representation are also in agreement in not ascribing to Jesus Christ a physical unity of being with God in the sense of a âdivine natureâ, and in preserving his distinctness from God. For Sölle, this means that incarnation would be misunderstood if it were conceived of as a complete giving of self by God in human form. The relationship between Jesus and God is determined not ontologically, but functionally. Jesus takes the functional place of God; Sölle even goes so far as to call him an âactorâ of God.86 To substantiate her insistence on the difference between God and Jesus, she invokes the statement of the Philippian hymn that Jesus did not claim divinity for himself: âin his being with God [he] cannot be seduced into having Godâ.87
However, the question remains regarding what determines and enables him to be âwith Godâ. In my Christological approach I answer this question with reference to the Word, Wisdom, and Spirit of God: the presence of God in the power of the Word, Wisdom, and Spirit that is within Jesus is what makes him Godâs representative.
Stephan Schaede criticizes the distinction between inclusive and exclusive substitution, arguing that every substitution contains inclusive and exclusive elements. In his view, the exclusivity lies in the absence of the person who is represented, whereas in regard to the person who represents him/her it is inclusive because he is included in the representation process.88 If the exclusive element is too strongly emphasized, substitution turns into replacement. If, on the other hand, the inclusive element is given too much weight, it becomes a cooperative partnership or an act of solidarity.89 In both cases, the relational pattern of âsubstitutionâ is dissolved. Applying his model to Christ yields the following: according to the model of exclusive substitution, Christ obtains reconciliation with God instead of humans. If, on the other hand, the inclusive substitution is overemphasized, the substitutionary suffering for becomes a suffering in solidarity with.
If one draws the concept of representation into this polarity, then it rather leans toward the inclusive side, albeit without settling there definitively. Here, however, we must not allow the concept of representation to commingle with the concept of substitution (for that would narrow its meaning), but rather ask what the relationship of the two concepts is to each other, especially in view of Christology. We can identify the following differences between, on the one hand, a substitutionary Christology and soteriology and, on the other, representational Christology:
(a) Representation is not merely about substitution, but also about making present. Representation is more than the execution of a function for a certain purpose; it is the manifestation of a personal presence. Of the three meanings that Schaede recognizes in the Latin term repraesentatio, the second is the most likely to connect with Christology (transition from a symbolic to a real presence). But even this meaning does not really fit the concept of representation as I propose it for Christology. For in relation to Christ, representation cannot be conceived of as the realization of something potential or ideal but as the concentrated presence of God in Jesus.90 In contrast, the first of the meanings mentioned by Schaede (representation as the depiction of something absent) falls short, and the third (representation as replacement) is quite at odds with a representational-Christological understanding. According to this representational understanding, ârepresentationâ means the personal presence of God in the human Jesus filled with Godâs Word, Wisdom, and Spirit. Everything he said and did was part of this representation, as was everything that happened to himâboth on the part of humans (passion, âcrossâ) and on the part of God (âresurrectionâ).
Participation in the salvific presence of God granted pro nobis takes place in the representation itself and not only in a purpose connected with it. Anselm answered the question of why God became human (âcur Deus homoâ) with just such a declaration of purpose: to bring into effect reconciliation with God. In contrast to this, representational Christology thinks of divine salvific efficacy as Godâs salvific presence, from which, however, humans constantly close themselves off. Where God is present, there is salvationâeven amid man-made disaster. To speak of a will for salvation is to refer to Godâs being.
To assume that Jesus Christ takes the place of humanity presupposes a Logos-Incarnation Christology âfrom aboveâ. In the act of incarnation, the Word of God divinizes the human nature. In contrast, representational Christology gives greater weight to Jesusâ humanity. As Jesus of Nazareth, he does not have to take the place of humanity, since he stands there alreadyâand thus he stands in the presence of God. As a human being, he does not step in for humanity, but represents it to God. If one frees the idea of substitution from its connotation of X-standing-in-for-Y and understands it entirely through the metaphorical sense of someone spatially standing at the same place as another (without occupying that place and substituting the other), then it becomes transferable to the idea of representation.
(b) The term âsubstitutionâ used in the context of Christology and soteriology refers above all to the substitution of humanity by Jesus. The Son of God takes the human beingâs place in order to carry outâaccording to Lutherâthe âhappy exchangeâ91 (Christ receiving our sin, and we Christâs righteousness). The reverse direction of relationship, in which God is substituted, Sölle emphasizes in her Christology âfrom belowâ, but in other approaches to Christology it remains rather in the background or plays no role at all. In contrast, representational Christology encompasses both relationships equally: Jesusâ relationship to God as well as his relationship to humanity.
(c) Representation means more than substitutionâboth in view of Jesusâ relationship to God and in view of his relationship to humans. This can be stated even if one understands substitution not only as acting as a substitute, but as substituting someoneâs existence, i.e., not only as doing something in someoneâs place, but as a standing in for the person, including their guilt and its consequences. Representation means âplacing in front ofâ: Jesus places the human before God and God before the human. Thus, he mediates between God and humans.
Regarding Jesusâ relationship to humanity, representational Christology takes an opposite line to a substitutionary Christology that is based on the notion of atonement. It holds that Jesus is not condemned and punished in place of human beings in order to make them righteous; rather it is as a human that he suffers the consequences of his surrender to God, dies into God (so to speak), and is present in the presence of Godâas Christus praesens. On his relationship with God, representational Christologyâs stance is that Jesus does not stand in place of God, but carries Godâs presence in himself, so that it radiates out from him.
The term âsubstitutionâ is not helpful for representational Christology. It is also questionable from an exegetical point of view. According to James D. G. Dunn, âsubstitutionâ does not do justice to Paulâs understanding of the death of Jesus. This is instead much better revealed in the idea of sharing and participation: âit is rather that Christâs sharing their death makes it possible for them to share his deathâ.92 Dunn suggests that it is the concepts of âparticipationâ and ârepresentationâ, rather than substitution, which are central to Pauline soteriology, for these âhelp convey the sense of a continuing identification with Christ in, through, and beyond his death, which [â¦] is fundamental to Paulâs soteriologyâ.93 Dunn, however, understands substitution in the exclusive sense.
Even if one understands substitution as inclusive, it is doubtful that Pauline Christology can be developed in this way. Representational Christology seems better suited for this, since it expresses Godâs âbeing inâ Jesus more strongly than the functional concept of substitution can. In this perspective, God not only acts through Jesus, but is present in him and includes believers in this presence. The term âsubstitutionâ can be usedâin a metaphorical senseâto illustrate the representation using spatial imagery, and in this way to provide an aid to understanding it.
Compared with the ârelated termsâ, my preference is for the concept of representation. In my opinion it expresses more clearly than the other concepts the presence of God in Jesus Christ while also distinguishing between the entity that represents itself (God the Father), the content of the representation (Godâs unconditional grace), and the figure of representation (Jesus). Jesus Christ is the embodied presence of God, but this presence reaches beyond the representation.
Translated from Scheerer, et al., âRepräsentationâ, 790. See also Hofmann, Repräsentation; Schaede, Stellvertretung, 171â238.
Tillich, Systematic Theology, Vol. 1, 278, footnote 9.
Vernant, Mythe, 264, cited in: Ginzburg, Repräsentation, 12â3.
Deuser, Gottesinstinkt. See also id., Kleine Einführung, 101â105.
Deuser, Gottesinstinkt, 163â4.
Deuser, Gottesinstinkt, 164.
See chapter 3.2.4.
Translated from Gestrich, Unterscheidung, 233.
Schaede, Stellvertretung, 227, see also 630â1, 634.
Translated from Schaede, Stellvertretung, 227.
Scheerer, et al., âRepräsentationâ, 790.
See Chapter 4.7.
Translated from Hoff, Wer ist Christus?, 198.
Translated from Deuser, Kleine Einführung, 100.
Translated from Joest, Dogmatik I, 234.
See also chapter 4.2.2.
See chapter 4.8.1.2.
See chapter 2.4.3.
Tillich, Systematic Theology, Vol. 2, 96 (emphasis mine).
Luther, The Large Catechism, 2nd part, 3rd article.
âtu sis omnium hominum persona, qui feceris omnium hominum peccataâ (WA 40/1, 437).
See chapter 4.2.1.
See chapter 3.2.7.5.
See chapter 3.2.3.
See also Jüngel, Hoffen, 19.
Translated from Gestrich, Die Wiederkehr, 232.
See Horn, Das Angeld des Geistes, 160â301.
See also Chapter 4.5.
In reference to Col. 3:10â13, Rom. 15:5ff., 1 Thess. 1:6, and Phil. 2:5ff., Jacob Jervell writes, âin the ethical use of the image motif, God and Christ are models for Christians to emulateâ (Jervell, âBild Gottesâ, 496).
Robinson, The Human Face of God, 189.
Robinson, The Human Face of God, 189.
Translated from Schrage, Theologie und Christologie, 138. See also Schweizer, Jesus, das Gleichnis Gottes.
Crossan, The Dark Interval, 124.
âUnum solum habent sacrae literae sacramentum, quod est ipse Christus Dominusâ (WA 6, 86).
Ep. 187, 34 (PL 38,845): âNon est enim aliud Dei Sacramentum nisi Christusâ.
In Col. 4:3 the wording is âthe mystery of Christâ.
For more on this, see Bornkamm, âMysterionâ, 825â28.
Barth, CD IV/2, 55. Already fifteen years earlier he had declared that, âthe basic reality and substance of the sacramental reality of [Godâs] revelation, is the existence of the human nature of Jesus Christâ (Barth, CD II/1, 53). For more on this, see Hempelmann, Sakrament, 91â100.
Translated from Jüngel, Das Sakrament, 334â5. Reprinted in Rahner, Was ist ein Sakrament?, 36 (emphasis mine). See also Jüngel, Die Kirche als Sakrament?, 456â7.
Feckes, Das Mysterium, 93â102.
Especially in Semmelroth, Die Kirche als Ursakrament, but also Hans Urs von Balthasar, Erich Przywara, et al.
Scheffczyk, Jesus Christus, 9â61; id., Die Kirche, 63â120.
Such as in Rahner, Kirche und Sakramente.
Translated from Karl Rahner, âAnonymes Christentum und Missionsauftrag der Kircheâ in Schriften zur Theologie 9, 509 and with increasing frequency thereafter (Sämtliche Werke 22/2, 320); id., âDer eine Jesus Christus und die Universalität des Heilsâ in Schriften zur Theologie 12, 270 (Sämtliche Werke 22/1, 898); id., âEkklesiologische Grundlegungâ in Sämtliche Werke 19, 63â4.
Translated from: âKarl Rahner, Das neue Bild der Kircheâ in Schriften zur Theologie 8, 329â54.
Translated from Rahner, Kirche und Sakramente, 34ff.
Translated from Karl Rahner, âEkklesiologische Grundlegungâ in Sämtliche Werke 19, 63.
Lumen gentium 1 speaks of the Church as analogous to a sacrament: she is âlike a sacramentâ (veluti sacramentum) (DH 4101).
â[â¦] the bread by which he represents [repraesentat] his own proper bodyâ (Tertullian, Adv. Marcionem I, 14,3, p. 25).
For more on this, see Hofmann, Repräsentation, 65â101.
DH 870.
Calvin, Institutes IV, 14,5f.; 17,1; 17,10.
Jüngel, God as the Mystery of the World, 10.
Translated from the subtitle of Pratzner, Messe und Kreuzesopfer.
Translated from Jaspers, Der philosophische Glaube, 157â8.
Karl Rahner, âZur Theologie des Symbolsâ in Sämtliche Werke 18, 275â311.
Tillich, Systematic Theology, Vol. 1, 239â40.
See especially Tillich, Systematic Theology, Vol. 2, 88â96; 136â138; 150â165; and id., The Religious Symbol, 3â21.
Tillich, Wesen und Wandel des Glaubens, 139â40.
Tillich, Wesen und Wandel des Glaubens, 139â40.
Tillich, Systematic Theology, Vol. 2, 93. In contrast to the two-dimensionality of the relationship presupposed in the current representational Christological approach, however, Tillich explicitly excludes Jesus also representing (actual) humanity vis-Ã -vis God (ibid.). Jesus represents God and true humanity to humans.
See Tillich, Rechtfertigung und Neues Sein.
Tillich, Systematic Theology, Vol. 2, 138.
Tillich, Systematic Theology, Vol. 2, 93.
Tillich, Systematic Theology, Vol. 2, 94.
Tillich, Systematic Theology, Vol. 2, 99.
Tillich, Systematic Theology, Vol. 2, 99.
Tillich, The Significance, 81ff. Reprinted in: Main Works / Hauptwerke, Vol. 6. 433.
Translated from Tillich, âOffenbarungâ, 664â5.
Translated from Burkhardt, Geballte Zeichen, 465â6.
Deuser, Gott, 16â17.
Peirce, Philosophical Writings, 104â15. In the following brief remarks, I draw on Nöth, Handbuch der Semiotik, 131â226.
Peirce, Collected Papers, 558.
See, however, Martin Vetterâs interesting attempt to make Peirceâs semiotics fruitful for the theology of the sacraments: Vetter, Zeichen, esp. § 11. Along with Peirce, Vetter emphasizes the importance of the intellectual disclosure of the relation between sign and the signified, so that the dyad of sign and signified becomes a triad that includes the interpreter.
Tillich, Systematic Theology, Vol. 2, 125.
Ryle, The Concept of Mind, 149â53.
Barth develops his doctrine of revelation most notably in CD I/1, §§ 8â18.
Barth, CD I/1, 296.
In this context Mt. 11:27 is of particular importance; it was in connection with this passage that patristics conveyed the idea of revelation to Christ. See Stockmeier, âOffenbarungâ, 48â49, 62â63, and 67ff.
Translated from Bockmuehl, âOffenbarungâ, 470.
See Schaede, Stellvertretung, 7â270.
Translated from Gestrich, Die Wiederkehr, 327â8.
Sölle, Christ the Representative. Similarly, McLeod Campbell, The Nature of the Atonement.
Sölle, Christ the Representative, 152. See also Graham, Representation, 21â80.
See Graham, Representation, 39â58.
Graham, Representation, 140.
Translated from Sölle, Atheistisch an Gott glauben, 19.
Schaede, Stellvertretung, 627â8.
Karl Rahner replaced the motif of substitution with the idea of Jesusâ unconditional solidarity (Karl Rahner, âVersöhnung und Stellvertretung,â in Schriften zur Theologie 15: 251â264 [Sämtliche Werke 30, 359â370]).
See also Schaede, Jes 53, 141.
WA 7, 25â28.
Dunn, The Theology of Paul the Apostle, 177â8.
Dunn, The Theology of Paul the Apostle, 177â8.