the related questions: “Could he have made atonement without suffering in stead of his people?”
Answer 172. It is not conceived that any thing without suffering would have constituted an atonement. Nothing but this could have shown the awful and tremendous consequences of sin. Nor could anything else have shown the incident evil and instructive tendency of sin. Nothing else would properly have been a penalty of the law. Obedience was already due from every creature, and could, in no sense be considered as a penalty. It does not appear, therefore, that the honor of the divine law or the dignity of the divine government could have been supported except by suffering, either personally, or having a substitute. This substitute must, to make an atonement which would be complete and satisfactory, suffer instead of his people, so far as mentioned above.
Here again, Gelston is clear that Christ’s suffering is necessary, yet it is an open question as to the priority of retributive justice or rectoral justice. Even where there is a place for retribution, it is not entirely clear that it amounts to (i) the absorption of a penalty or (2) that Christ’s act is committed on behalf of the individual. These fundamental tenets are essential elements of standard penal substitution theory. It is true that Gelston uses the language of “suffering” and “substitution,” yet he also uses the language of “satisfaction” and atonement for a collective whole, “his people”. In the quote above, Gelston suggests moral government or penal non-substitution when he says, “Nothing but this could have shown the awful and tremendous consequences of sin. Nor could anything else have shown the incident evil and instructive tendency of sin. Nothing else would properly have been a penalty of the law.” Gelston’s use of the word “substitution” seems to amount to a different kind of substitution than that found in penal substitutionary atonement. Rather, Gelston states that this “substitute” must “suffer instead of his people” not on behalf of his people or in their penal stead. With the variations of atonement theory swirling around during the time of New England theological development, it is not surprising that New England theologians, like Gelston, might use language reflective of penal substitution theory, moral government, and even the satisfaction theory. While the evidence points in favor of interpreting Gelston as a defender of moral government his language lends itself to some ambiguity.
According to question 173, Gelston inquires: “Did Christ pay the debt for the elect, so that they can claim salvation on the foot of justice?”
(Answer 173) When one man pays a debt for another, where a sum of money is due, this other on the principles of strict commutative justice may justly demand a release from his creditor. The reason is, because the creditor has received his full demand, and justice in no case demands more than the law points out, as due. But in matters of distributive justice. The law does not point out the punishment of one man as due for the crime of another. It has no right to demand this. And the one man should consent to suffer for another, the executive authority is not obliged to accept of the substitute. It is against the breaker of the law that it is threatenings are leveled, and it is to him alone that the law looks for satisfaction. Originally, therefore, it knows of no substitute. If then, one man actually suffers the punishment due to another, the demand of the law, according to strict distributive justice, still remains in full force. If the sovereign accept of this punishment as a substitute, it is not because this kind of justice requires his acceptance.
Similar is the case of the elect. This kind of distributive justice will never support any claim for salvation. To a matter like this, the punishment might still be executed.
The general good or general justice, however, admits of their salvation, and by virtue of God’s promise, on the ground of this, they have a right to expect it.
It seems clear from the above that Gelston has in mind rectoral satisfaction rather than the absorption of penal consequences. Christ does not so much assume the penalty of individual sin, but he honors God or the moral law in a way that creates a surplus benefiting humans. The notions of “credit” and “creditor” are clearly at home with Anselmian satisfaction, or, possibly, moral government. Whilst the discussion on whether the payment is paid directly to God or the moral law by which God maintains moral order is an open question, but what seems clear is his rejection of a certain variant of penal substitution that says that Christ suffered a loss on behalf of the elect so as to pay the debtor (as is clear here: “The law does not point out the punishment of one man as due for the crime of another. It has no right to demand this.”). Rather, Christ pays off the debt owed to God the creditor. In other words, he pays a positive demand.
For question 174, Gelston responds to the question of “Were the sufferings of Christ to the purpose of supporting the divine law equivalent to the endless torments of the sinner?” His answer is quite illuminating.
(Answer 174) The sufferings of Christ were not infinite in duration. Nor were they incident in quantity or degree, for it was his human nature, which suffered, and that was capable of only a finite degree of suffering. The infinite dignity of his person, however, gave value to his sufferings, which was fully equivalent to the endless torments of the sinner. Reason teaches us that the sufferings of a king’s son, especially if he possesses every amiable quality of a man, are of more value and importance than the sufferings of one of his lowest subjects. And in proportion, as the son is more elevated in station and character, his sufferings will be of proportionably more value in every respect, but especially to the support of the law and the dignity of the government.
We may be sure that the sufferings of Christ are equivalent to the endless torments of the sinner, from God’s actually accepting it as such. He would not accept of that which does not answer the demand of the law. This he fully intimates, when he says, “And ye brought that which was torn, and the lame, and the sick; though ye brought an offering: should I accept this of your hands? saith the Lord.” Malachi 1.13. That the sufferings of Christ were accepted as an equivalent is evident from what is abundantly asserted. “Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree.” 1 Peter 2.24. “As Christ also hath loved us, and hath given himself for us, and offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet smelling savour.” Ephesians 5.2. “For he hath made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin.” 2 Corinthians 5.21. Who gave himself a ransom for all.” 1 Timothy 2.6. “For by one offering he hath perfected forever them that are sanctified.” Hebrews 10.14.
Here Gelston again takes up and defends an aspect of suitable equivalence, this time by addressing the value of Christ’s sacrifice—a discussion that is often ignored or misconstrued by contemporary atonement theoreticians. That Christ’s sacrifice was suitably equivalent to the “eternal torments” is not the same thing as say that he endured the actual torments of hell for anyone. This seems to point away from Gelston’s subscription to a penal substitution theory. And at the same time, Gelston links humanities offense to both God and the moral law. It seems to us that despite the lack of clarity on these various comments of Gelston, that a fairly strong cumulative case can be made that he did not espouse a doctrine of penal substitution. So, what did he subscribe to in the end?
Finally, in question 175, Gelston asks, “Do the sufferings and obedience of Christ prove the divine law to be a just law?”
(Answer 175) It does not appear that the nature of the law is, in any instance, to be determined merely by its sanctions. The will or character of the lawgiver, the tendency of the law, and the nature of the trends rations against which its penalties are leveled, more properly give complexion to the law. Whenever, therefore, the justice of a law is questioned, the character of the lawgiver is equally questioned. And though he should execute the full extent of the threatening, this would not achieve the difficulty with respect to his law or character, for we know that an unjust and rigorous sovereign may commit the greatest injustice in this way, and be at proportionably greater distance from rectitude of heart. Something more than merely suffering the threatening of the law is necessary to vindicate its justice. Nor would mere obedience alone determine the law to be just. One of the contrary nature may be as punctually obeyed as if perfectly just, and it is injustice remain undiminished.
