of certain aspects of Christ's work. We hear such echoes of sacrificial language as the following: "He gave himself up for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God for an odour of a sweet smell" (Eph. v. 2); "Our passover also hath been sacrificed, even Christ" (1 Cor. v. 7). In other passages he is spoken of as delivered up to death, language which suggests the offering up of a sacrifice (Rom. viii. 32; Gal. ii. 20). If it were certain that Oupa is to be supplied with inaσrnpiov in Rom. iii. 25, and Ovoíav with Teρì ȧμаprías in Rom. viii. 3, then these passages would be additional illustrations; but these are doubtful interpolations. We can only say that while Paul has made a less frequent and explicit use of sacrificial ideas than we should have expected, it is clear that the system supplied one of the forms of thought by which he interpreted Christ's death, and, further, that, so far as Christ was thought of as a sacrifice, he was conceived as substituted for the sinner in death. If he has not especially brought out this idea in connection with his allusions to sacrifice, he has done so in other ways, and the inference that this was his conception of Christ's death, viewed as a sacrifice, is quite inevitable. I cannot doubt that for the mind of Paul the shedding of Christ's blood relates his death directly to the sacrificial circle of ideas.

In Gal. iii. 13 we have a reference to the death of Christ in which special emphasis is placed upon the instrument of death, namely, the cross, "Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law, having become a curse for us; for it is written, Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree." Here the allusion is to Deut. xxi. 23, where it is said that the body of a criminal who has been executed on a gibbet shall not be left exposed overnight lest the land be defiled, because a body so put to death is accursed of God and therefore a source of pollution. Now Paul uses this idea of the curse connected with the cross as a means of relating the death of Christ to the divine law. The law declares a crucified one accursed; therefore in dying on a cross Christ endured a curse, or, as Paul realistically

expresses it, "became a curse on our behalf," and by enduring the curse which the law pronounces upon transgressors (iii. 10), has delivered us from liability to the same. The closest analogue to this passage is 2 Cor. v. 21, where Christ is said to have been "made to be sin on our behalf in order that we might become the righteousness of God in him." The meaning is that he was put in the place of sinners; that in his death he so endured the penalty of sin, or the equivalent of that penalty, that its infliction may be withheld from those who will accept the benefits of this substitutionary experience. The wages of sin is death; Christ on man's behalf has vicariously endured death, — and in that ignominious form of it which in the law involves a curse, and now that the penalty has been paid, the demands of the law are satisfied and the way to forgiveness opened.

We have here essentially the same mode of thought as in the passages in which the death of Christ is correlated with the justice or wrath of God. The law is contemplated as the codification of those demands which arise out of the holy nature of God. The verdict of the law has been proclaimed against sin. If this sin is to escape punishment, it must do so because some other way is found of manifesting the divine displeasure and of satisfying the law's demand for its punishment. This way God himself provides in the vicarious endurance of death by Christ. The premisses of this argument are unmistakable, and the conclusion is as inevitable as it is clear. To Paul's mind there is, in the nature of God, an obstacle to forgiveness which can never be overcome until sin has been virtually punished. The law's curse impends over man until it is inflicted and endured. But Paul stops short of a conclusion to which this course of argument seems to be carrying him. He does not say that Christ was personally accursed or that he endured exactly what sinners would have endured in punishment. This conclusion would have been a reductio ad absurdum, for Christ was sinless and could not be I punished. Paul evidently regarded his death as the equivalent of punishment in that it expressed the divine

righteousness and satisfied the law as fully as punishment would have done. Hence Christ was "made sin," not a "sinner"; he was regarded or treated as a sinner in so far as he was taking the sinner's place in suffering. Paul says that he became "a curse," not that he endured "the curse of the law"; that is, he had the experience of one accursed, but did not suffer the personal displeasure of God. Paul's argument undoubtedly carries him to the very verge of the view that Christ suffered the precise penalty of sin—a conclusion which later dogmatic thought felt compelled to draw from his premisses; but he carefully avoids it, since it would be fatal to his doctrine of Christ's person. Were Christ's sufferings, then, in Paul's view, penal? The answer depends upon the definition of "penal." In the strict sense of the word, they were not. Penal means, having the character of punishment. Now punishment implies guilt, and Christ was guiltless. But Paul did regard Christ's sufferings as serving the ends of punishment and as a substitute for the punishment of the world's sin. In his sufferings God manifested and vindicated his holy displeasure against sin as adequately as he would have done by its punishment. It would not misrepresent Paul's thought to say that he regarded Christ's sufferings as representatively penal or as involving penal consequences. He took the sinner's place and endured his lot, namely, death. This vicarious experience meets the moral ends of punishment; but it is evident that, since he was sinless, his sufferings could not have the moral qualities of punishment for him, nor could God entertain revengeful feeling toward him personally. Paul's theology was juridical. God must secure the satisfaction of his law before he can forgive. The operation of grace is conditioned upon the assertion of justice. And yet these contrasts are really transcended in Paul's own thought, since it is God himself who, in his love, finds a way to be both just and gracious. It is he, and not another, who provides the satisfaction. In the last analysis, God removes his own obstacles and appeases his own wrath. The very death by which his righteousness is exhibited is

provided for by his love.1 Christ's death could never have been a propitiation for men's sins except by the prior determination of God's love. "God commendeth his love to us in that Christ died for us.'

But this legalist scheme which Paul wrought out of the materials of current Jewish thought is not the whole of his doctrine of salvation through Christ. In the fertile mind of the apostle his judicial and substitutionary theory has broken over its natural boundaries and has developed and expanded in various directions. To his thought the vicarious sufferer was not isolated from those on whose behalf he suffered; he was in closest connection with them as their representative and head. Paul applies this conception of solidarity to Christ in representing him as the second Adam (Rom. v. 15-19; 1 Cor. xv. 45; 2 Cor. v. 14, 15). He summed up, as it were, in himself all mankind considered as the subject of redemption. Hence, in his death, all died (2 Cor. v. 14). The subɛitutionary idea underlies the expression; Christ vicariously died the death of all; but, nevertheless, a new element enters with the identification of mankind with him in his death. It is the germ of the thought, which is a favorite one with Paul, that there is something in the experience of Christ which others may share-something which they may repeat in their experience. If to Paul's mind he died to vindicate justice and satisfy law, it is also true for him that he died for men that they should no longer live unto themselves (2 Cor. v. 15). We have here a suggestion of those more mystical and ethical interpretations which we shall have to consider directly.

We find that Paul also attaches saving significance to the resurrection: "For their sakes he died and rose again"2; he rose on their behalf, that is, for their salvation.

1 "Paul interpreted the death of Christ from above, not from beneath. An offering is not brought to God which shall convert him from wrath to grace so it had formerly been conceived; but God is the Actor, the Offerer, the Reconciler, and the ground of his action is pure love, nothing else." Wernle, Die Anfänge unserer Religion, p. 146.

22 Cor. v. 15. θανόντι καὶ ἐγερθέντι).

Here ὑπὲρ αὐτῶν belongs to both participles (ἀπο

"He was raised for our justification" (Rom. iv. 25). Elsewhere the resurrection is assigned a prominent place among the contents of Christian faith (Rom. iv. 25; x. 9; 1 Cor. xv. 14, 15). What was the saving value of the resurrection? Probably they are right who hold that it was viewed primarily as the counterpart of the death, as the supreme evidence that the redemption wrought by the death was complete. It is presented rather as a motive to faith than as a basis of salvation. And yet its significance seems to have outrun the limits set by this conception. In Rom. viii. 34 it is placed in connection with the intercession; but, of course, it may be held that the intercession is conceived as based on an appeal to the vicarious death on men's behalf. In any case the resurrection not only supplies to Paul one of his strongest analogical arguments (1 Cor. xv), but furnishes the mould in which he likes best to cast his thought of the moral renewal of man. Here again we find a link of connection between the saving deeds and the ethical aspects of salvation.

Had the sinless holiness of Jesus, his perfect life of obedience to God's law, in which Paul strongly believed (2 Cor. v. 21), no saving value or effect? It is undoubtedly assumed that his sinlessness is essential to his vicarious suffering. If he had been tainted with guilt, he would have been personally deserving of death, and so could not have died solely for the sins of others. But no direct use is made of his personal holiness in describing his redemptive work. His one great act of righteousness, which Paul magnifies, is his death (Rom. v. 18). His obedience is noticed, but it is his obedience unto death (Phil. ii. 8). His "active obedience" is quite subordinate in Paul's thought to his "passive obedience." He appeared in the likeness of sinful flesh that he might condemn sin in the flesh by suffering for it (Rom. viii. 3); his obedience to the law is conceived as having for its end "that he might redeem them which were under the law" (Gal. iv. 4). In general, Paul did not greatly concern himself about the earthly life of Christ; for his mind the atoning sig