What did Christ actually win for us on the cross? That is the question at the heart of this chapter. Throughout this book, we have examined the atonement from many angles — the biblical data in both Old and New Testaments, the historical development of atonement theology from the Church Fathers through the Reformation and beyond, the philosophical coherence of penal substitutionary atonement, and the integration of multiple atonement models with penal substitution at the center. But all of that work leads us here, to the most personal question of all: What difference does the cross make?
I want us to think carefully about this, because it matters enormously. The atonement is not just a doctrine to be studied in a library. It is a reality that changes everything about our standing before God, our relationship with Him, our freedom from sin's power, and our hope for the future. If Christ's death on the cross accomplished something real and objective — and I believe it did — then there must be real, concrete benefits that flow from it to those who trust in Him.
The New Testament describes these benefits with a rich vocabulary of saving terms. Theologians sometimes call this the "application" of the atonement — the way the objective work of Christ on the cross becomes effective in the lives of individual believers. Paul, Peter, John, and the author of Hebrews each contribute vivid images and powerful theological concepts that together paint a full picture of what the cross has achieved for us.1
My thesis in this chapter is straightforward: the atonement, objectively accomplished in Christ's death, produces a constellation of saving benefits — justification, reconciliation, redemption, propitiation, adoption, sanctification, and new creation — that together describe the full scope of what Christ has won for those who trust in Him. And I want to show how penal substitutionary atonement provides the central mechanism that makes all of these benefits possible. Because the penalty of sin has been borne by Christ in our place, the legal barrier between God and sinners is removed. Reconciliation is achieved. Redemption is accomplished. The way is opened for every other blessing.
As John Stott puts it so memorably, the images of salvation are like vivid pictures drawn from different spheres of human life — the temple, the marketplace, the courtroom, and the home — and each contributes something vital to our understanding of what God has done for us in Christ.2 Let us walk through them one by one.
Key Point: The atonement is not merely an abstract theological event. It produces real, concrete saving benefits for believers — justification, reconciliation, redemption, propitiation, adoption, sanctification, and new creation — all of which flow from the central reality that Christ bore the penalty of our sin in our place.
We begin with justification, because this is where penal substitutionary atonement bears its most direct and obvious fruit. The Greek word for justification is dikaiōsis (δικαίωσις), and the related verb dikaioō (δικαιόω) means "to declare righteous" or "to acquit." These terms come from the world of the courtroom. Picture a judge presiding over a trial. The accused stands before the bench. The judge examines the evidence and renders a verdict: guilty or not guilty. To "justify" someone, in this legal sense, is to pronounce them righteous — to declare that they are in the right before the law.3
This is enormously important, because justification is the opposite of condemnation. Paul makes this crystal clear in Romans: "Who shall bring any charge against God's elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn?" (Rom. 8:33–34a, ESV). Condemnation and justification are two possible verdicts from the same judge. If God has justified you — declared you righteous — then no one can condemn you. The verdict has been rendered. The case is closed.
Now, here is where things get really remarkable. Justification is not God's recognition that we are actually, inherently righteous. We are not. Paul has already made that painfully clear: "None is righteous, no, not one" (Rom. 3:10, ESV). Every human being stands guilty before a holy God. So how can God justly declare guilty sinners to be righteous? How can the Judge of all the earth acquit the guilty without compromising His own justice?
The answer is the cross. And specifically, the answer is penal substitutionary atonement.
Paul spells this out in one of the most important passages in all of Scripture — Romans 3:21–26 — which we examined in detail in Chapter 8. There Paul explains that God put Christ forward "as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith," in order "to show his righteousness ... so that he might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus" (Rom. 3:25–26, ESV). The entire point is that God's justice is not swept under the rug. The penalty for sin is not ignored. It is paid — fully and completely — by Christ.4
Because Christ bore the judicial consequences of our sin on the cross, God can now declare believing sinners righteous without any compromise of His justice. The penalty has been satisfied. The debt has been paid. And so the Judge's declaration of "not guilty" is not a legal fiction or a clever trick. It is the just verdict of a God who has, in His own Son, absorbed the full weight of the sentence that was due to us.
This is what theologians call the "forensic" or "legal" dimension of justification. The word "forensic" simply means "pertaining to the courtroom." Justification is a forensic act — a legal declaration, not an internal transformation. God does not justify us by making us righteous inside (that is sanctification, which we will discuss later). He justifies us by declaring us righteous on the basis of what Christ has done for us outside of us. Martin Luther called this being justified by an "alien righteousness" — a righteousness that comes from outside ourselves, from Christ Himself.5
The mechanism by which this works is what the Reformers called "imputation." To impute something means to credit it to someone's account, like a bank transfer. Paul describes this double imputation — the great exchange — in a single breathtaking verse:
"For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God." (2 Corinthians 5:21, ESV)
There it is, in one sentence. Our sin was imputed to Christ — He "was made sin" for us. And His righteousness is imputed to us — we "become the righteousness of God" in Him. This is a double transfer: our guilt goes to the cross, and Christ's righteous standing comes to us. As we explored in Chapter 9's treatment of 2 Corinthians 5:14–21, this is not a legal fiction. It is grounded in the real, organic, covenantal union between Christ and His people.6
Paul develops the same logic in Romans 4, where he points to Abraham as the great example of justification by faith: "And to the one who does not work but believes in him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted as righteousness" (Rom. 4:5, ESV). Notice the shocking phrase: God "justifies the ungodly." In any human courtroom, that would be a travesty of justice — a corrupt judge letting the guilty go free. But God is no corrupt judge. He can justify the ungodly precisely because the penalty their ungodliness deserved has already been borne by Christ.7
David Allen is right to point out that justification, sanctification, reconciliation, adoption, union with Christ, and glorification are all distinct but related dimensions of the one great salvation that God has accomplished in Christ.8 But justification holds a special place as the foundational legal act that makes all the others possible. If the penalty is not dealt with, the sinner remains under condemnation, and none of the other blessings can flow.
The Great Exchange in 2 Corinthians 5:21: "For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God." Our sin was transferred to Christ; His righteousness was transferred to us. This is the heart of imputation — and it only makes sense if Christ truly bore the penalty that our sin deserved.
How does this justification become ours? Through faith. Paul is emphatic: we are "justified by faith apart from works of the law" (Rom. 3:28, ESV). Faith is the instrument — the empty hand that receives the gift. Faith does not earn justification. Faith is not a "work" that merits God's favor. Faith is simply trusting in what Christ has already accomplished.
This is where the Reformation cry of sola fide — "by faith alone" — finds its deepest grounding. Luther was right: justification by faith is the article on which the church stands or falls. If we add any human work or merit to the basis of our standing before God, we undermine the entire logic of the cross. If Christ's death was sufficient to pay the penalty, then there is nothing left for us to add. All that remains is to receive the gift with grateful, empty hands.9
William Lane Craig helpfully shows the philosophical logic here. If Christ has satisfied the demands of divine justice on our behalf, then God's pardon of the believing sinner is not an act of leniency or mercy alone — it is an act of justice. God would be unjust not to pardon those for whom the penalty has already been paid. The believing sinner is acquitted not because the judge is soft on crime, but because the sentence has already been executed — on Christ, in our place.10
I want to pause here and say something pastoral. Justification is not just a theological concept for seminary classrooms. It is the most liberating truth a guilty human being can ever hear. If you have ever lain awake at night with a guilty conscience, wondering if God could really forgive what you have done — justification answers you. If you have ever struggled with the feeling that you are not good enough for God, that your failures are too many and your sins too deep — justification answers you. Not because your feelings are wrong (we really are guilty), but because God has done something about it. The penalty has been paid. The verdict has been rendered. You are declared righteous — not because of anything in you, but because of everything in Christ.
Jeffery, Ovey, and Sach are absolutely right that penal substitution grounds our assurance of God's love in a way that no other atonement model can. If we strip away the penal dimension — if we say that Christ's death was merely an example, or merely a victory over the powers, without the judicial satisfaction of divine justice — then we lose the foundation for assurance. The question "Has my guilt really been dealt with?" is left unanswered. Only if Christ bore my penalty can I know with certainty that I am free.11
If justification takes us into the courtroom, reconciliation takes us into the home. The Greek word is katallagē (καταλλαγή), and the related verb katallassō (καταλλάσσω) means "to reconcile" — to restore a broken relationship, to bring two estranged parties back together. Reconciliation is, in many ways, the most personal and relational of all the images of salvation. It speaks not of verdicts and penalties but of love and alienation, of enmity overcome and friendship restored.12
The word "atonement" itself, in English, originally meant "at-one-ment" — the making of two parties "at one" again. And the only occurrence of the word "atonement" in the King James New Testament is in Romans 5:11, where it translates katallagē: "We also joy in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom we have now received the atonement" — that is, the reconciliation.13
The New Testament's teaching on reconciliation is concentrated in four great passages. Let us look at the two most important.
First, Romans 5:10–11:
"For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life. More than that, we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation." (ESV)
Notice the startling language: we were "enemies." This is not mild language. It means that the relationship between God and sinful humanity was not just strained or distant — it was characterized by active hostility. We were at war with God. And the reconciliation came "by the death of his Son." The cross is the instrument of peace.
Second, 2 Corinthians 5:18–20:
"All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation. Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us. We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God." (ESV)
Several things stand out here. First, reconciliation originates with God, not with us. "All this is from God." We did not seek peace with God; He sought peace with us. Second, reconciliation is through Christ — specifically, through His death (the context in 2 Corinthians 5 makes this clear, especially verse 21). Third, reconciliation involves "not counting their trespasses against them." This phrase links reconciliation directly to justification — the legal act of not imputing sin to the sinner.14
Here is where penal substitution becomes essential. What was the cause of the enmity between God and humanity? Sin. And not just sin as a vague, general problem, but sin as a specific, legal, judicial reality. Our sin created a barrier — a wall of hostility — between a holy God and guilty sinners. God's justice demanded a response to sin. His holiness could not simply overlook it. As we explored in Chapter 3, God's love and justice are not in conflict; they are complementary perfections of His nature. But they do create what Stott called "the problem of forgiveness" — how can a just God forgive the guilty without compromising His own righteous character?15
The answer is the cross. Because Christ bore the penalty of our sin, the legal barrier is removed. The enmity is abolished. God's justice has been satisfied — not by sweeping sin under the rug, but by dealing with it fully and completely in the person of His Son. And with the judicial obstacle removed, the relationship can be restored. Reconciliation flows from justification. The courtroom verdict opens the door to the family reunion.
Stott captures this beautifully when he observes that justification and reconciliation, though distinct, are closely related. In Romans 5:9–11, being "justified by his blood" is paralleled with being "reconciled to him through the death of his Son." Justification is our legal standing before our Judge in the courtroom; reconciliation is our personal relationship with our Father in the home. And the latter is the sequel and fruit of the former. It is only when we have been justified by faith that we have "peace with God" (Rom. 5:1), which is reconciliation.16
From Courtroom to Home: Justification is the legal verdict that the believer is righteous before God. Reconciliation is the restored relationship that flows from that verdict. The courtroom leads to the family table. Both are made possible because Christ bore the penalty of sin, removing the barrier between a holy God and sinful humanity.
An important exegetical question arises here. Is it God who is reconciled to us, or we who are reconciled to God? Some scholars have argued that reconciliation is entirely one-directional — that only we needed to change, not God. They point out that the New Testament never says "God was reconciled to us" but rather "God reconciled us to himself."
There is a partial truth here. God does initiate reconciliation. He takes the first step. He sends His Son. He makes the appeal. We do not reconcile ourselves to God; He reconciles us. But this does not mean that nothing changes on God's side. Something does change — not in God's character (He has always loved us) but in God's relationship to us as Judge. Before the cross, we stood under God's just condemnation. After the cross, for those who believe, that condemnation is removed. The obstacle that God's own justice presented has been dealt with — by God Himself, in Christ. So reconciliation has a God-ward dimension: the wrath of God, which was the just response to sin, has been satisfied through the propitiatory work of Christ (as we shall see below). And it has a human-ward dimension: we are called to respond — "be reconciled to God!" — by trusting in what Christ has done.17
This is why Allen rightly describes the work of Christ on the cross as resulting in an "objective reconciliation" — it removes all legal barriers between God and humanity. The reconciliation is accomplished at the cross. What remains is for human beings to receive it by faith.18
Now the scene shifts again. We leave the courtroom and the home and enter the marketplace — specifically, the ancient slave market. The Greek word for redemption is apolytrōsis (ἀπολύτρωσις), and it comes from a family of words built on the root lytron (λύτρον), which means "ransom" or "price of release." In the ancient Greco-Roman world, these words had a very specific meaning. They referred to the price paid to set a slave free or to buy back a prisoner of war. The word-group carried an unmistakable connotation of liberation through the payment of a costly price.19
As we discussed in Chapter 2, this terminology is deeply rooted in the Old Testament as well. The Hebrew word padah (פָּדָה) means "to ransom" or "to redeem," and ga'al (גָּאַל) means "to redeem" or "to act as a kinsman-redeemer." Both terms carry the idea of liberation through costly intervention. God "redeemed" Israel from slavery in Egypt — and this act of national liberation became the foundational metaphor for all future acts of divine salvation.20
The New Testament applies this rich language directly to the work of Christ. Consider three key texts:
First, Mark 10:45: "For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom [lytron] for many" (ESV). Jesus Himself described His death as a "ransom" — a price paid to set captives free. And the preposition "for" (anti, ἀντί) carries the strong sense of "in the place of" or "instead of," as we explored in Chapter 7's discussion of Jesus' self-understanding of His death.21
Second, Ephesians 1:7: "In him we have redemption [apolytrōsis] through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace" (ESV). Redemption is "through his blood" — that is, through the shedding of Christ's blood in death. And it results in "the forgiveness of our trespasses." The payment of the ransom price secures the release of the prisoners.
Third, 1 Peter 1:18–19: "You were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot" (ESV). Peter combines the language of redemption (ransom) with the language of sacrifice (a spotless lamb). The price paid was not money but the very life of Christ — His blood, shed on the cross. As we examined in detail in Chapter 11, the Petrine witness is saturated with substitutionary and sacrificial imagery.22
But redeemed from what, exactly? From what bondage have we been set free? The New Testament gives several answers, and they are all important.
We are redeemed from the guilt of sin. Ephesians 1:7 links redemption with "the forgiveness of our trespasses." The guilt that held us liable to punishment has been dealt with through the payment of the ransom price.
We are redeemed from the power of sin. Titus 2:14 says that Christ "gave himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works" (ESV). Redemption is not just freedom from guilt — it is freedom from the enslaving dominion of sin in our lives.
We are redeemed from the curse of the law. As Paul writes in Galatians 3:13: "Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us — for it is written, 'Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree'" (ESV). The law pronounced a curse on everyone who failed to keep its demands perfectly. Christ took that curse upon Himself, bearing it in our place. This is substitutionary language at its most explicit.
We are redeemed from death. Hebrews 2:14–15 tells us that through His death, Christ destroyed "the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil," and delivered "all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery" (ESV). Here the redemption and Christus Victor themes converge: Christ's death is both a ransom price paid and a victory won over the powers of evil. As we argued in Chapter 24, these two models are not competing alternatives but complementary dimensions of the same event.23
Where PSA and Christus Victor Meet: Redemption is the point at which penal substitution and the Christus Victor model most clearly intersect. Christ pays the ransom price (PSA dimension) and wins the victory over sin, death, and the devil (Christus Victor dimension). The legal and the cosmic are not in tension — they are united at the cross.
One of the most striking features of the New Testament's redemption language is its emphatic insistence on the cost of our liberation. Peter says we were ransomed "not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ" (1 Pet. 1:18–19). Paul says we were "bought with a price" (1 Cor. 6:20; 7:23). The emphasis falls on the costliness of the transaction. Our freedom was not cheap. It cost God everything — the life of His own Son.
Stott is right to insist on this. Citing Leon Morris's careful lexical work, he argues that the lytron word-group in the New Testament cannot be diluted into a vague, general idea of "deliverance." The language is specifically and deliberately transactional. There was a price. There was a payment. There was a release. We have been "ransomed" by Christ — not merely "delivered" in some general sense, but specifically and concretely liberated through the costly sacrifice of His blood.24
This is where some critics of penal substitution go wrong. They want to affirm that Christ has liberated us — which is the Christus Victor emphasis — but they resist the idea that this liberation involved the payment of a penalty. Yet the New Testament will not let us separate the two. The ransom is paid precisely through the bearing of the penalty. Christ liberates us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us. He frees us from condemnation by being condemned in our place. The victory is won through the satisfaction of justice, not instead of it.
Propitiation is perhaps the most controversial of all the images of salvation, but I believe it is also one of the most important. The key Greek words are hilasmos (ἱλασμός) and hilastērion (ἱλαστήριον). As we discussed at length in Chapter 8's detailed treatment of Romans 3:25, there has been a long-running scholarly debate about whether these words mean "propitiation" (the turning away of God's wrath by the satisfaction of His justice) or "expiation" (the cleansing or covering of sin). C. H. Dodd famously argued for "expiation," insisting that the idea of appeasing an angry God was unworthy of the New Testament. Leon Morris responded with a comprehensive rebuttal, demonstrating from both the Old Testament background and the New Testament usage that the propitiatory meaning is firmly established.25
I will not repeat that exegetical debate here, since it belongs to Chapter 8. But I do want to highlight what propitiation means for the application of the atonement. If Christ's death is a propitiation, it means that the wrath of God — His settled, holy, just opposition to sin (not an irrational rage, but a righteous judicial response) — has been satisfied. The barrier that God's own justice erected against sinners has been removed, not by ignoring justice but by fulfilling it. As Paul says, God put Christ forward as a hilastērion "to show his righteousness ... so that he might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus" (Rom. 3:25–26, ESV).26
The apostle John makes the same point with even greater clarity:
"In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation [hilasmos] for our sins." (1 John 4:10, ESV)
Notice the stunning thing here. Propitiation and love are not opposites. They belong together. It is precisely because God loved us that He provided the propitiation. He did not need to be persuaded to love us. He loved us first — and His love moved Him to deal with the very real problem of His justice. The God who loves us is the same God whose justice demands a response to sin. And the cross is where His love and His justice meet in perfect harmony.27
I want to emphasize something here that I believe is absolutely critical. When we speak of propitiation, we are not saying that Jesus appeased an angry Father who did not love us. We are not saying that the Son had to persuade the Father to stop being angry. As we argued extensively in Chapter 20, the "cosmic child abuse" caricature — the idea that penal substitution depicts the Father as an enraged deity pouring out His fury on an unwilling victim — is a grotesque distortion of what the doctrine actually teaches. The Father loves the Son. The Father loved us. The Father sent the Son in love. And the Son went willingly, out of love, to bear the consequences of our sin.28
Propitiation, rightly understood, is the self-propitiation of God. It is God Himself, in the person of His Son, providing the sacrifice that satisfies His own justice. As Stott puts it, this is the self-substitution of God — God substituting Himself for us, in our place, bearing the consequences that were due to us. The Father does not punish an unwilling victim. The Triune God, in unified love, acts to absorb the judicial consequences of human sin.29
This means that propitiation is, at its deepest level, an act of grace. It is not the appeasement of an angry deity by a separate, unwilling victim. It is the self-giving of the God who is love, dealing with His own just response to sin by bearing it Himself. And it is in this sense that propitiation is the foundation of all the other saving benefits. If God's justice is not satisfied, then the enmity remains, the captivity continues, and there is no reconciliation, no redemption, no justification. But because propitiation has been accomplished — because the judicial demands have been met — everything else follows.
Propitiation Is an Act of Love: "In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins" (1 John 4:10). Propitiation is not the opposite of love — it is the expression of love. A loving God satisfies His own justice so that guilty sinners can be forgiven.
Now we come to one of the warmest and most tender of all the saving benefits: adoption. The Greek word is huiothesia (υἱοθεσία), a compound of huios ("son") and thesis ("placing"). It literally means "the placing of a son" — the act by which someone who is not a natural child is given the full legal status of a son or daughter. In the Roman world, adoption was a powerful legal institution. An adopted son received the full rights, privileges, and inheritance of a natural-born child. Old debts were cancelled. A new identity was conferred.30
Paul uses this term in three key passages:
"For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, 'Abba! Father!'" (Romans 8:15, ESV)
"But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons." (Galatians 4:4–5, ESV)
"He predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will." (Ephesians 1:5, ESV)
Notice the close connection between redemption and adoption in Galatians 4:4–5. Christ was sent "to redeem those who were under the law" — that is the penalty-bearing, liberating work of the cross — "so that we might receive adoption as sons." Adoption is the result of redemption. We could not be welcomed into the family until the legal obstacle of our guilt was dealt with. Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law (as argued in Chapter 9's treatment of Galatians 3:13), and on that basis, God adopts us as His children.31
How does adoption connect to penal substitutionary atonement? Very directly. Sin made us enemies of God (Rom. 5:10). It placed us under condemnation (Rom. 8:1). It barred us from God's family. We were, as Paul says, "children of wrath" (Eph. 2:3) — the very opposite of adopted children. For us to become sons and daughters, the barrier of sin and guilt had to be removed. And that is exactly what the cross accomplished.
Because Christ bore our penalty, we are justified — declared righteous. Because we are justified, we are reconciled — brought back into a right relationship with God. And because we are reconciled, we can be adopted — welcomed into God's family as full sons and daughters, with all the privileges that status brings. The logical chain is clear: substitution leads to justification, justification leads to reconciliation, and reconciliation opens the door to adoption.32
And what a status it is! Paul says that adopted children of God are "heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ" (Rom. 8:17). We share in Christ's inheritance. We receive the Holy Spirit as a "guarantee" (arrabōn, ἀρραβών) of our future inheritance (Eph. 1:14). And we are given the stunning privilege of addressing the Creator of the universe as "Abba" — an Aramaic term of intimate endearment, the word a child uses for a beloved father. The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God (Rom. 8:16).
J. I. Packer once said that adoption is the highest privilege the gospel offers — higher even than justification. While justification is the foundation, adoption is the pinnacle. To be declared righteous is wonderful. But to be welcomed into the family — to be called a son, a daughter, a child of the living God — that is beyond anything we could have imagined.33
We now move from the legal and relational categories to the transformative. If justification is about our status before God (declared righteous) and adoption is about our relationship with God (welcomed as children), sanctification is about our character — the ongoing process by which believers are actually made more like Christ.
The word "sanctification" comes from the Greek hagiasmos (ἁγιασμός), which means "holiness" or "the process of being made holy." To be "sanctified" is to be set apart for God's purposes and to be progressively transformed into the likeness of Christ. It involves both a positional reality and an experiential process.34
The New Testament speaks of sanctification in two senses. First, there is what theologians call "positional" or "definitive" sanctification — the once-for-all act by which believers are set apart as holy in God's sight. Hebrews 10:10 says, "We have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all" (ESV). And Hebrews 10:14 adds, "For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified" (ESV). Notice the remarkable combination: "perfected for all time" (a completed, positional reality) and "being sanctified" (an ongoing, progressive process). Both are true simultaneously.
Paul makes the same point when he writes, "And such were some of you. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God" (1 Cor. 6:11, ESV). Here, sanctification is listed alongside justification as a completed past event — something that happened when the believer came to faith.
Second, there is progressive sanctification — the lifelong process of growing in holiness and Christlikeness. Paul exhorts the Thessalonians: "For this is the will of God, your sanctification" (1 Thess. 4:3, ESV). He prays that God would "sanctify you completely" (1 Thess. 5:23, ESV). Peter commands, "As he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct" (1 Pet. 1:15, ESV). This is the daily, ongoing work of the Holy Spirit in the life of the believer — putting sin to death, cultivating the fruit of the Spirit, and shaping us into the image of Christ.
How does the atonement ground sanctification? In two ways. First, the cross provides the legal basis for sanctification. Positional sanctification — being set apart as holy — is grounded in the once-for-all offering of Christ. Because He bore our sin and satisfied divine justice, we are now able to be consecrated to God. The barrier has been removed. We belong to God now.
Second, the cross provides the power for sanctification. Paul writes in Romans 6:6: "We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin" (ESV). Our union with Christ in His death means that sin's dominion over us has been broken. We are no longer slaves to sin. We have been set free — not just legally (justification) but actually, experientially, in terms of sin's power over our daily lives.
This is where the atonement becomes practical in the most immediate sense. Every time a believer says "no" to temptation, every time a pattern of sin is broken, every time we grow a little more patient, a little more loving, a little more faithful — that is the power of the atonement at work in our lives. The cross is not just a past event with a legal verdict attached. It is a present, ongoing, transformative power that is actively making us new.35
Allen helpfully summarizes the three stages of salvation in relation to the atonement: justification addresses the penalty of sin (a past act), sanctification addresses the power of sin (an ongoing process), and glorification will address the very presence of sin (a future hope).36 All three are grounded in the cross. The atonement is the fountain from which every stream of saving grace flows.
The final saving benefit we need to consider is perhaps the most sweeping: new creation. Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:17: "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come" (ESV). This is not just a minor adjustment. It is a fundamental transformation — the inauguration of something entirely new.
The language of "new creation" deliberately echoes Genesis 1. Just as God created the heavens and the earth in the beginning, so now, through the work of Christ, He is creating something new — new people, a new humanity, and ultimately a new heaven and a new earth. The atonement is not just about saving individual souls (though it certainly is about that). It is about the renewal of all creation. Sin brought corruption, decay, and death into the world. The cross begins the reversal of all of that.37
This "new creation" dimension of the atonement reminds us that the scope of Christ's saving work is far wider than we sometimes imagine. Paul writes in Colossians 1:19–20: "For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross" (ESV). The reconciliation accomplished at the cross extends not just to individual sinners but to "all things." There is a cosmic dimension to the atonement that includes the renewal of the entire created order.
Romans 8:19–23 develops this further. Creation itself "waits with eager longing" for the full revelation of the children of God. The whole creation "has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth" — waiting for the day when it will be "set free from its bondage to corruption" (ESV). The atonement has inaugurated this cosmic renewal, but its full completion awaits the return of Christ and the final resurrection.
This is where the Eastern Orthodox emphasis on the cosmic scope of salvation and the theme of theosis (deification or divinization) — the idea that salvation involves the transformation and elevation of human nature to participate in the divine life — has something genuinely valuable to contribute. As we explored in Chapter 23, the Orthodox tradition rightly insists that salvation is not merely forensic. It includes the actual transformation of human nature and indeed of all creation. I believe this emphasis is entirely compatible with penal substitutionary atonement. The forensic and the transformative are not in competition. Rather, the forensic (the removal of the penalty through Christ's substitutionary death) is the foundation upon which the transformative (sanctification, theosis, new creation) is built.38
The Cosmic Scope of the Atonement: The cross does not merely rescue individual souls — it inaugurates the renewal of all creation. "If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation" (2 Cor. 5:17). The forensic, transformative, and cosmic dimensions of the atonement all work together, with penal substitution at the center providing the judicial foundation for everything else.
Now I want to step back and make the larger argument. We have surveyed seven major categories of the atonement's application: justification, reconciliation, redemption, propitiation, adoption, sanctification, and new creation. Each one is a distinct and precious gift. Each one contributes something essential to our understanding of what Christ has accomplished for us. But they are not a random collection of disconnected blessings. They form a coherent, interconnected whole — and penal substitutionary atonement is the mechanism that holds them all together.
Think about it this way. Propitiation addresses the problem of God's just wrath against sin. Because Christ bore the penalty as our substitute, divine justice is satisfied. That is the foundation. Then justification flows from propitiation: because the penalty has been paid, God can declare believing sinners righteous. Then reconciliation flows from justification: because the legal barrier has been removed, the broken relationship can be restored. Then adoption flows from reconciliation: because we are no longer enemies but friends, we can be welcomed into the family as sons and daughters. Then sanctification flows from our union with Christ: because we are connected to Him in His death and resurrection, the power of sin over us is broken, and we can grow in holiness. And finally, new creation flows from all of it: the entire work of cosmic renewal that God is accomplishing through Christ is built on the foundation of the cross.39
This is exactly the logic of Stott's magisterial treatment in The Cross of Christ. Stott argues that substitution is not merely one more "image" of the atonement to be placed alongside propitiation, redemption, justification, and reconciliation. Rather, it is the foundation of them all. Without substitution — without Christ standing in our place and bearing our penalty — none of the other images makes sense. If God did not take our place and bear our sin, there could be no propitiation, no redemption, no justification, no reconciliation.40
Allen makes the same point when he describes the nature of the atonement as "an actual vicarious satisfaction for sins via substitution." The substitutionary nature of Christ's death is the foundation, and all the other categories — propitiation, reconciliation, redemption, sanctification — are dimensions and results of that foundational reality.41
William Lane Craig contributes valuable philosophical clarity to this discussion. In his treatment of divine pardon and the appropriation of the atonement, Craig argues that Christ's penal substitutionary death satisfies the demands of divine justice in such a way that God's pardon of believing sinners is not merely an act of mercy but an act of justice itself. Because the penalty has been borne, the sinner's debt is cancelled. And because the debt is cancelled, God's declaration of "not guilty" is a fully just verdict.42
Craig also helpfully addresses the question of how the benefits of the atonement are appropriated. The objective work of Christ on the cross must be received by faith. Craig emphasizes that this reception is not a meritorious work but a relational response — the sinner trusts in what Christ has done. This faith is the means by which the individual believer enters into the saving benefits that Christ has objectively secured.43
This is crucial for understanding the universal scope of the atonement, which we argued for in Chapter 30. Christ's death is objectively sufficient for all people without exception — He died for the sins of the whole world (1 John 2:2). The saving benefits are available to every human being. But they are appropriated — received, enjoyed, made effective in individual lives — through the response of faith. The atonement is accomplished for all; it is applied to those who believe.
At this point, I want to offer a word of caution. While I have been arguing that penal substitution is the central mechanism that holds all the other saving benefits together, I do not want to reduce the atonement to penal substitution alone. That would be a serious mistake. The cross is richer, deeper, and more multidimensional than any single model can capture.
The Christus Victor dimension is real. Christ has triumphed over sin, death, and the powers of evil. The recapitulation dimension is real. Christ has taken up our humanity and renewed it from within. The moral influence dimension is real. The cross does display the love of God in a way that moves and transforms us. The Eastern Orthodox emphasis on theosis is real. Salvation does include our participation in the divine nature (2 Pet. 1:4).
What I am arguing — and what this book has been arguing from the beginning — is that all of these genuine dimensions of the atonement find their coherence and their grounding in the penal substitutionary work of Christ. Take away the penal dimension, and the victory becomes hollow (victory over what, exactly, if not over the just sentence of death?). Take away the substitutionary dimension, and the love becomes vague (love demonstrated how, exactly, if not by dying in our place?). The multi-faceted model we developed in Chapter 24, with PSA at the center and the other models arranged around it as complementary dimensions, is the framework that best does justice to the full biblical witness.44
PSA as the Foundation, Not the Whole: Penal substitutionary atonement is not the only dimension of the cross, but it is the central dimension — the load-bearing wall that supports all the others. Without it, justification has no legal basis, reconciliation has no judicial foundation, redemption has no ransom price, and propitiation has no content. With it, every other saving benefit finds its grounding and its coherence.
Theologians have long discussed the ordo salutis — the "order of salvation" — that is, the logical (not necessarily chronological) sequence in which the various saving benefits are applied to the believer. While different theological traditions arrange the order differently, and while I do not want to be overly rigid about it, there is a broadly evangelical consensus that runs something like this:45
First, there is the objective work of Christ on the cross — the accomplishment of the atonement. This is the foundation of everything. It is complete, finished, and sufficient. "It is finished" (John 19:30).
Second, there is the calling of the gospel — the proclamation of what Christ has done, accompanied by the invitation to believe. God "was reconciling the world to himself" and has "entrusted to us the message of reconciliation" (2 Cor. 5:19). We are "ambassadors for Christ" (2 Cor. 5:20).
Third, there is the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit, who opens blind eyes and softens hard hearts to receive the gospel. No one comes to faith apart from the Spirit's work (John 6:44; 1 Cor. 12:3).
Fourth, there is faith — the personal, trusting response of the sinner to the gospel. This is not a meritorious work but a receptive act — the empty hand that grasps the gift offered in Christ.
Fifth, upon the exercise of faith, the saving benefits flow: justification (the legal verdict), adoption (welcome into the family), the indwelling of the Spirit, positional sanctification (being set apart), and the beginning of progressive sanctification (ongoing growth in holiness).
Sixth, there is the ongoing work of sanctification — the lifelong process of being conformed to the image of Christ.
Seventh, there is the future hope of glorification — the final resurrection and the complete restoration of all things, when sin will be no more and we will see Christ face to face.
What I want to emphasize is that every step in this order is grounded in the cross. The gospel we proclaim is the message of what Christ did at Calvary. The Spirit applies the benefits that Christ secured. Faith receives what Christ accomplished. Justification, adoption, sanctification, and glorification are all fruits of the tree that was planted on Golgotha. Everything flows from the atonement.46
Some scholars object that the forensic language of justification and propitiation makes salvation sound too impersonal — like a cold legal transaction rather than a warm personal relationship. They prefer relational categories like reconciliation and adoption.
I understand this concern, and I share the desire for warmth and relational depth. But the objection presents a false choice. We do not have to choose between the legal and the relational. Both are essential. As Stott observes, the images of salvation are not "alternative explanations of the cross, providing us with a range to choose from, but complementary to one another, each contributing a vital part to the whole." The courtroom leads to the family table. Justification is the foundation; reconciliation and adoption are the fruit. Take away the legal dimension, and you lose the ground on which the relational blessings stand.47
Moreover, it is worth noting that the legal categories are themselves deeply personal. The Judge who justifies us is our Father. The verdict He renders is motivated by love. The penalty He satisfies was borne by Himself, in the person of His Son. There is nothing impersonal about a God who loves us enough to become one of us, take our place, and bear our judgment.
Some scholars have argued that justification is simply another word for forgiveness — that being justified means being forgiven, and nothing more. Sanday and Headlam wrote that justification "is simply forgiveness, free forgiveness," and Jeremias asserted that "justification is forgiveness, nothing but forgiveness."48
Stott rightly pushes back on this. While forgiveness and justification are complementary, they are not identical. Forgiveness remits our debts and cancels our liability to punishment. Justification goes further: it bestows on us a positive righteous standing before God. The justified sinner is not merely "not guilty" — he or she is positively righteous, clothed in the righteousness of Christ. This is the glory of imputation: we receive not just the absence of condemnation but the presence of a righteous standing that is not our own.
Some critics, especially those writing from an Eastern Orthodox perspective, argue that the juridical categories of justification, imputation, and forensic righteousness are Western innovations — products of Roman legal culture and Reformation theology — that are foreign to the Eastern patristic mind. As we addressed in Chapter 34, this objection overstates the differences between East and West.
Schooping's work is decisive here. Writing from within the Orthodox tradition, he demonstrates that forensic, judicial, and penal language is present throughout Orthodox hymnography, the Church Fathers, and the canonical tradition. Cyril of Alexandria, John Chrysostom, Maximus the Confessor, and others all use language that is recognizably juridical and substitutionary. The Eastern tradition certainly emphasizes theosis and recapitulation more than the West does — and rightly so. But the claim that the East has no forensic soteriology is simply not supported by the primary sources.49
What I would say is this: the best approach is not to pit the forensic against the transformative, or the Western against the Eastern, but to hold them together. Justification (the Western emphasis) and theosis (the Eastern emphasis) are not competing models. They are complementary dimensions of the one great salvation that God has accomplished in Christ. And penal substitution provides the judicial foundation on which both can stand.
Let me draw the threads together. In this chapter, we have surveyed the major categories of the atonement's application — the saving benefits that flow from Christ's death on the cross to those who trust in Him. We have seen that:
Justification is the forensic declaration that the believing sinner is righteous before God, grounded in the imputation of Christ's righteousness and the satisfaction of divine justice through His substitutionary death.
Reconciliation is the restoration of the broken relationship between God and humanity, made possible because the cross has removed the barrier of sin and guilt that stood between us.
Redemption is the liberation of captives from bondage to sin, death, and the curse of the law, accomplished through the costly payment of Christ's blood as a ransom price.
Propitiation is the satisfaction of divine justice — the turning away of God's righteous wrath — through the self-giving sacrifice of Christ, who bore the penalty in our place.
Adoption is the welcoming of believers into God's family as full sons and daughters, with all the privileges of that status, made possible because the legal barrier of sin has been removed.
Sanctification is the ongoing transformation of believers into the likeness of Christ, grounded both in the legal reality of our positional holiness (we have been set apart) and in the experiential power of our union with Christ in His death and resurrection.
New creation is the cosmic renewal that God is accomplishing through Christ, beginning with the transformation of individual believers and extending ultimately to the restoration of all things.
And threading through all of them is the central reality of penal substitutionary atonement. Because Christ died in our place, bearing the judicial consequences of our sin, all of these benefits are possible. The penalty satisfied, the barrier removed, the price paid, the relationship restored, the family opened, the transformation begun, the creation renewed — all because of what happened on a Friday afternoon, on a hill outside Jerusalem, when the Son of God laid down His life for the sins of the world.50
I find myself marveling at the sheer scope of what Christ has accomplished. One event — one death — and from it flows an inexhaustible river of saving grace. Justification for the guilty. Reconciliation for the estranged. Redemption for the enslaved. Propitiation for the condemned. Adoption for the orphaned. Sanctification for the broken. New creation for a world groaning under the weight of sin and death.
No wonder Paul breaks into doxology: "Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!" (Rom. 11:33, ESV). The cross is deeper than our deepest theology and richer than our richest language. We will spend eternity exploring its wonders — and we will never reach the bottom.
In the next chapter, we will turn from the atonement's theological benefits to its practical implications — how the cross shapes the way we worship, love, forgive, suffer, and live as followers of the crucified and risen Christ.
1 John R. W. Stott, The Cross of Christ (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2006), 166. Stott identifies propitiation, redemption, justification, and reconciliation as four key images of salvation, drawn from the temple, marketplace, courtroom, and home respectively. ↩
2 Stott, The Cross of Christ, 166–67. ↩
3 David L. Allen, The Atonement: A Biblical, Theological, and Historical Study of the Cross of Christ (Nashville: B&H Academic, 2019), 21. Allen places justification within the broader framework of salvation stages, distinguishing it from sanctification and glorification. ↩
4 For detailed exegesis of Romans 3:21–26, see Chapter 8 of this volume. See also Leon Morris, The Apostolic Preaching of the Cross, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1965), 251–72. ↩
5 Martin Luther, Lectures on Galatians (1535), in Luther's Works, vol. 26, ed. Jaroslav Pelikan (St. Louis: Concordia, 1963), 233–34. Luther describes Christ's righteousness as "alien" because it comes from outside the believer and is received by faith, not produced by human effort. ↩
6 Simon Gathercole, Defending Substitution: An Essay on Atonement in Paul (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2015), 15–16. Gathercole defines substitution as "Christ in our place" and traces this concept through the earliest Pauline confessional material. ↩
7 Thomas R. Schreiner, "Penal Substitution View," in The Nature of the Atonement: Four Views, ed. James Beilby and Paul R. Eddy (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2006), 67–98. ↩
8 Allen, The Atonement, 21. ↩
9 Stott, The Cross of Christ, 180–81. Stott cites Luther's affirmation that justification by faith is "the principal article of all Christian doctrine." ↩
10 William Lane Craig, Atonement and the Death of Christ: An Exegetical, Historical, and Philosophical Exploration (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2020), chap. 12, "Redemption: Divine Pardon and Its Effects." Craig argues that divine pardon, grounded in Christ's satisfaction of justice, is not merely an act of mercy but of justice itself. ↩
11 Steve Jeffery, Michael Ovey, and Andrew Sach, Pierced for Our Transgressions: Rediscovering the Glory of Penal Substitution (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2007), 151–52. The authors argue that only penal substitution provides the necessary ground for assurance: knowing that the penalty has been paid gives the believer confidence that God's love is real and his or her sins are truly dealt with. ↩
12 Stott, The Cross of Christ, 190. Stott describes reconciliation as "probably the most popular of the four" salvation images "because it is the most personal." ↩
13 Allen, The Atonement, 187. Allen notes that in the NKJV, "atonement" occurs only in Romans 5:11, rendering the Greek katallagē ("reconciliation"). ↩
14 For detailed exegesis of 2 Corinthians 5:14–21, see Chapter 9 of this volume. See also Gathercole, Defending Substitution, 21–23. ↩
15 Stott, The Cross of Christ, 88–89. Stott's Chapter 4, "The Problem of Forgiveness," is the key treatment of this theme. See also Chapter 3 of this volume. ↩
16 Stott, The Cross of Christ, 190. Stott observes that "justification is our legal standing before our judge in the court; reconciliation is our personal relationship with our Father in the home." ↩
17 Leon Morris, The Atonement: Its Meaning and Significance (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1983), 132–42. Morris argues for a God-ward dimension of reconciliation, insisting that something changes in God's relationship to the sinner through the cross. ↩
18 Allen, The Atonement, 188. Allen describes the atonement as resulting in "an objective reconciliation, removing all legal barriers between God and man." ↩
19 Leon Morris, The Apostolic Preaching of the Cross, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1965), 11–64. Morris provides the definitive treatment of the lytron word-group, arguing that the ransom/price-of-release connotation is firmly established. ↩
20 For the Old Testament background of redemption language, see Chapter 2 of this volume (atonement terminology) and Chapter 4 (the Levitical system). ↩
21 See Chapter 7 of this volume for detailed exegesis of Mark 10:45, including the significance of the preposition anti (ἀντί). See also Gathercole, Defending Substitution, 14–15. ↩
22 See Chapter 11 of this volume for the Petrine witness to substitutionary atonement, including detailed treatment of 1 Peter 1:18–19, 2:24, and 3:18. ↩
23 See Chapter 24 of this volume for the integration of PSA and Christus Victor within the multi-faceted model. See also Craig, Atonement and the Death of Christ, chap. 5, "Representation and Redemption," under "Redemption." ↩
24 Stott, The Cross of Christ, 174. Stott cites Morris's lexical work and B. B. Warfield's warning about the loss of the word "ransom" from Christian vocabulary. ↩
25 See Chapter 8 of this volume for the detailed exegesis of Romans 3:25 and the propitiation vs. expiation debate. See also Allen, The Atonement, 24–29, and Morris, The Apostolic Preaching of the Cross, 125–85. ↩
26 Craig, Atonement and the Death of Christ, chap. 11, "Satisfaction of Divine Justice." Craig provides a rigorous philosophical defense of the coherence of divine justice being satisfied through Christ's death. ↩
27 Jeffery, Ovey, and Sach, Pierced for Our Transgressions, 72–73. The authors emphasize that propitiation and love are not in tension but belong together: God's love motivates the provision of propitiation. ↩
28 See Chapter 20 of this volume for the full treatment of the Trinitarian dimension of the atonement and the response to the "cosmic child abuse" accusation. See also Stott, The Cross of Christ, 133–63, esp. Chapter 6, "The Self-Substitution of God." ↩
29 Stott, The Cross of Christ, 133. Stott's thesis is that the cross is best understood as the self-substitution of God — God Himself, in the person of His Son, bearing the penalty of our sin. ↩
30 James M. Scott, Adoption as Sons of God: An Exegetical Investigation into the Background of ΥΙΟΘΕΣΙΑ in the Pauline Corpus, WUNT 2/48 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1992), 3–57. ↩
31 See Chapter 9 of this volume for the exegesis of Galatians 3:13 and 4:4–5, showing the connection between redemption from the curse and the reception of adoption. ↩
32 Jeffery, Ovey, and Sach, Pierced for Our Transgressions, 84–85. The authors trace the logical chain from substitution to justification to reconciliation and beyond. ↩
33 J. I. Packer, Knowing God (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1973), 186–87. Packer famously argues that adoption is the highest privilege of the gospel. ↩
34 Wayne Grudem, Systematic Theology: An Introduction to Biblical Doctrine (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1994), 746–62. ↩
35 Stott, The Cross of Christ, 255–73. Stott's Part IV explores the practical implications of the cross for the Christian life, including sanctification and holiness. ↩
36 Allen, The Atonement, 21. Allen distinguishes justification (dealing with the penalty of sin), sanctification (dealing with the power of sin), and glorification (dealing with the presence of sin). ↩
37 N. T. Wright, Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church (New York: HarperOne, 2008), 93–108. Wright helpfully develops the cosmic and creational dimensions of the atonement. ↩
38 Fr. Joshua Schooping, An Existential Soteriology: Penal Substitutionary Atonement in Light of the Mystical Theology of the Church Fathers (Olyphant, PA: St. Theophan the Recluse Press, 2020), chap. 22, "The Life in Christ: Death the Way of Transformation." Schooping demonstrates the compatibility of forensic and transformative categories within the Orthodox tradition. See also Chapter 23 of this volume. ↩
39 Stott, The Cross of Christ, 167. Stott's argument that substitution is "the foundation of them all, without which each lacks cogency" is the clearest statement of this logic. ↩
40 Stott, The Cross of Christ, 167. ↩
41 Allen, The Atonement, 187–88. ↩
42 Craig, Atonement and the Death of Christ, chap. 12, "Redemption: Divine Pardon and Its Effects." ↩
43 Craig, Atonement and the Death of Christ, chap. 13, "Redemption: Justification and Appropriation of a Divine Pardon." ↩
44 See Chapter 24 of this volume for the full development of the multi-faceted model with PSA at the center. See also Joshua M. McNall, The Mosaic of Atonement: An Integrated Approach to Christ's Work (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic, 2019), 17–42. ↩
45 Louis Berkhof, Systematic Theology, 4th ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1941), 415–31. Berkhof provides a classic Reformed treatment of the ordo salutis. See also Grudem, Systematic Theology, 669–71. ↩
46 Jeffery, Ovey, and Sach, Pierced for Our Transgressions, 84–92. The authors systematically trace how each saving benefit depends on the foundational reality of penal substitution. ↩
47 Stott, The Cross of Christ, 166–67. ↩
48 Stott, The Cross of Christ, 180. Stott cites both Sanday and Headlam and Jeremias, arguing that their reduction of justification to forgiveness fails to account for the positive dimension of imputed righteousness. ↩
49 Schooping, An Existential Soteriology, chap. 9, "For Us and In Our Place: St. Cyril of Alexandria's Doctrine of God's Wrath and Penal Substitutionary Atonement," and chap. 17, "Penal Substitution: St. John Chrysostom's Commentary on 2 Corinthians 5:21." See also Chapter 34 of this volume. ↩
50 I. Howard Marshall, Aspects of the Atonement: Cross and Resurrection in the Reconciling of God and Humanity (Colorado Springs: Paternoster, 2007), 63–82. Marshall provides a helpful survey of the saving benefits of the atonement and their interrelationship. ↩
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