7 Alister McGrath - How does Jesus set us free?

What do Christians mean when they talk about “salvation”? In the last article, I began to explore what this term means, looking especially at the idea of salvation as healing. Yet the New Testament’s account of the difference that Christ makes includes a wide range of ideas, each of which helps us understand why Christianity is able to offer hope and transformation. One of these is thinking of salvation as “redemption”, a word that means something like “buying back”.

Christ is here understood as a liberator, someone who releases people from bondage and restores their freedom.

Paul’s New Testament letters often use this powerful image, which was deeply rooted in the social world of early Christianity, particularly the cities of the Roman empire. Some scholars suggest that as many as one in three inhabitants of cities in the first century had sold themselves into some form of servitude, often to pay off debts. These slaves could be “redeemed” through a commercial transaction, in which their freedom was purchased by a benefactor. This idea can be seen in Paul’s statements that Christians have been “bought with a price” (1 Corinthians 6:20; 7:23). Christ is here understood as a liberator, someone who releases people from bondage and restores their freedom. Christ thus achieves or enables something that we could not do for ourselves.

Charles Wesley, a leading figure in the Methodist movement of the early eighteenth century, realised how hymns could be used to teach theology, and packed a series of visual insights about the nature of salvation into his famous 1738 hymn And can it be? Here’s one of its verses:

Long my imprisoned spirit lay,
Fast bound in sin and nature’s night
Thine eye diffused a quickening ray
I woke, the dungeon flamed with light
My chains fell off, my heart was free
I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.

The central theme here is that salvation is about liberation. We are trapped by sin, and set free by Christ who both illuminates our situation so that we can see things as they really are, and enables us to throw off our chains and walk free from imprisonment.

Another image of salvation is used by Christ himself, who declared that he “did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:42). The image of salvation weaves together insights about the human predicament and what can be done to change our situation. To think of Christ’s death as a “ransom” suggests three ideas. First, it invited us to think of someone being held in bondage. To many readers of the New Testament, it might evoke the image of some great public figure being held captive, against his or her will. Their freedom depends totally upon someone being prepared to pay the ransom demand.

My chains fell off, my heart was free. I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.

This brings us to the second idea which is prompted by the image of a “ransom” – a price being paid to bring about the freedom of the person who is being held captive. The more important the person being held to ransom, the greater the price demanded by their captors. For New Testament writers, the price of our freedom was the death of Christ (John 3:16) – a price that Christ willingly paid. And thirdly, the image of a “ransom” highlights that the death and resurrection of Christ are liberating. The New Testament speaks of Christ setting us free from the fear of death (Hebrews 2:14-15), and bringing us into the “glorious freedom of the children of God”.

Another concept that is used in the New Testament to explain the significance of Christ’s death on the cross is “adoption.” Paul uses this word to help explain the benefits which result from Christ’s death (Romans 8:15; 8:23; 9:4; Galatians 4:5; Ephesians 1:5). So what does he mean by this? What does he expect his readers to make of this image?

Adoption was an important aspect of Roman family law in New Testament times, with which Paul (and many of his readers, particularly at Rome!) would have been familiar. Under this law, a father was free to adopt individuals from outside his natural family, and give them the legal status of being his children. Although there is clearly a difference between natural and adopted children, they have the same legal status. In the eyes of the law, they are all members of the same family, irrespective of their genetic origins, and have the same family name and inheritance rights.

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Paul uses the term “adoption” to help us grasp that faith brings about a change in our status before God. For Christians, we are adopted into the family of God, with all the benefits that this brings. Christians share in Christ’s sufferings, and in the hope of glory. For Paul, this insight is of considerable importance in coping with suffering in the life of faith. Christ suffered before he was glorified; suffering is thus not to be seen as a mark of divine disfavour, but rather as sharing in Christ’s suffering and the hope of future glory.

For Christians, we are adopted into the family of God, with all the benefits that this brings.

Yet there is another benefit of adoption into the family of God – a new sense of belonging. Everyone needs to feel that they belong somewhere where we matter and we are wanted. Social psychologists have highlighted our need for a “secure base,” belonging to a community or group which gives us a sense of purpose and an awareness of being valued and loved by others. In human terms, this need is usually met by the family unit. For Christians, this real psychological need is also satisfied through being adopted into the family of God. Believers can rest assured that they are valued within this family, and are thus given a sense of self-confidence which enables them to work in, and witness to, the world.

Now there is much more that can be said about the Christian understanding of salvation. Yet it is helpful to stand back from its fine detail, and try to see the bigger picture. A common theme underlying the New Testament’s rich imagery of salvation is that human beings are trapped, wounded, ill and guilty. And we can’t set ourselves free, heal our wounds, or make ourselves fit to enter God’s presence. Yet God has done for us what we could not do for ourselves, asking that we accept healing, forgiveness and transformation. God provides us with a salve for our wounds, so that we may be healed. Paul’s image of adoption in particular helps us see that we are wanted and welcomed by God. It’s a powerful thought, which brings us hope.

God has done for us what we could not do for ourselves, asking that we accept healing, forgiveness and transformation.

Let me end this article with a true story which brings out the importance of hope in the life of faith. The chapel of King’s College Cambridge is well known for its annual candlelit Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols, which is broadcast to millions of listeners around the world. One of the centrepieces of the chapel is a large seventeenth-century painting depicting the Adoration of the Magi – the visit of the mysterious wise men from the east to the infant Jesus. In 1974, the canvas was slashed by intruders. Large crowds gathered to look with sadness at the damaged masterwork. Yet soon afterwards, a notice appeared at the front of the chapel: “it is believed this masterpiece can be restored”. It was! And that’s a core theme of the Christian idea of salvation. For Christians, we are damaged – but God can restore and renew us.

Alister McGrath recently retired as Andreas Idreos Professor of Science and Religion at the University of Oxford. His latest book is What’s the Point of Theology? Wisdom, Wellbeing and Wonder, published recently by SPCK.