There is nothing more important in the Bible and in human history than Jesus’ death and resurrection. And if you grew up in the church, you were probably taught some version of this:
You sinned. God is holy. Sin deserves punishment. Jesus took that punishment so you wouldn’t have to.
For the vast majority of Protestants, this is the default way of understanding the cross. But if you stop to think about it for a second, some questions start to surface.
- What does it mean for Jesus to “pay” for sin?
- How does punishment often described as infinite get dealt with in a matter of hours?
- Why does the New Testament spend so much time talking about things like being “in Christ,” dying with him, and being raised with him, if the primary issue is just a settled debt?
And perhaps more importantly, is that even how Scripture frames the problem?
When you look closely, the Bible doesn’t just describe sin as something you do, but also as something that has power and dominion, enslaving us and leading to death. We are not merely individuals making bad choices, but people caught in a reality we can’t escape.
And if that’s the problem, then the solution can’t simply be the cancellation of individual offenses. With that in mind, here’s my thesis for this article:
The cross is not about quantitatively paying off punishment, but about ending one humanity and inaugurating another.
And if that’s true, the cross isn’t just about settling a debt or forgiving sinners. It’s about ending a dominion and creating a new humanity.
What is Sin, Really?
Any Christian should be familiar with the concept of “sin.” Its existence in our lives and in the world is why Jesus had to incarnate and die in the first place; it’s a fundamental problem baked into this world’s order that leads to separation from God (Rom 5:12). However, members of the Christian community like to throw around the word “sin” as if its definition should be obvious.
So, let me ask you: What is sin?
The Sunday school answer would be something like, “Anything that’s evil” or perhaps even, “Anything that is contrary to God’s character.” A Christian who’s been around the block might even point to the Greek word for sin, hamartia, which means “to miss the mark.”
None of those are untrue, but they are incomplete.
We know that sin entered the world (Rom 5:12), that it enslaves people (John 8:34), it has power (Rom 6:6-7) and dominion (Rom 6:14), but it’s also something that we practice (1 John 3:4). So, at the same time, we see that sin is both (1) something we do, and (2) a state or power that has dominion over us. This “power” is something that Paul refers to as the “law of sin” that dwells in our body (Rom 7:23), which compels us to sin even if we aren’t in the habit of it (as a baby) or if we’ve been spiritually renewed.
Sin is both an act and a state, and I want you to keep that distinction in mind. Later, when we get to the cross and models of atonement, it’s worth asking a simple question: “Did Jesus resolve our individual sin acts or sin as a power? Or both?”
But first, let’s talk about why Adam’s lone sin affects every human who’s ever lived, and why it matters when thinking about atonement.
Why Did One Sin Affect Everyone?
If I lie, that sin affects me and the person I’ve lied to – possibly more people, as well, depending on the scope and nature of the lie. But ultimately, I’m a nobody. My lie isn’t going to impact anyone in New Zealand, Sudan, or Chile. More than likely, it won’t even impact anyone outside the state I live in. No one else is burdened with “sin guilt” because of my lie, and they haven’t become more prone to sin either (outside of, perhaps, a small group who might decide to model my behavior).
Here’s my point: If my sin doesn’t affect you, and your sin doesn’t affect me, why did the sin of one man (Adam) affect all of us?
Some would argue that it’s because we’re all descended from Adam, and therefore, we inherited original sin from him. However, that assumes that we’re all related to Adam, which is already more than the text clearly states (see Rethinking Adam), and even beyond that, Ezekiel 18:20 says, “The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father, neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son.” This same principle can also be found in Deuteronomy 24:16, which says, “Fathers shall not be put to death because of their children, nor shall children be put to death because of their fathers.”
The Bible teaches that each individual is held accountable for their own actions, not that guilt is inherited.
So, why do we inherit a fallen nature from Adam’s disobedience, even when we’re many thousands of years removed from him? Let’s go back to my previous example. I said before that I’m a nobody, so my potential lie has very limited reach. I’m not responsible for much beyond my family and elements of my community.
But what would happen if the President of the United States or the Pope were to lie? The effects would have the potential to be felt by millions, if not billions, of people worldwide. Walk that back to Adam, the first representative of humanity as a whole, and suddenly it’s a lot easier to see why we all suffer because of his wayward choice.
The only way to fix an error made by humanity’s representative is for a new representative to take the stage and set things right.
Models of Atonement
That brings us to Jesus, who became fully man while also being fully God, allowing him to act as humanity’s representative without falling into Adam’s folly. The work that he did on the cross changed history and opened the door to union with God.
It truly was the greatest miracle ever performed.
But despite how central Christ’s death and resurrection are to the Christian faith, I don’t think many in the church could explain what happened while he hung on the tree. We say things like, “He bore our sins” and “He defeated death,” and those things are true, but they don’t actually explain anything. What does it mean that he bore our sins or defeated death? What about his death on the cross caused it to be so?
I’ll start by listing some of the more common atonement models, and then I’ll give you my thoughts on what seems to fit best.
Penal Substitutionary Atonement (PSA)
This is the most pervasive model in Protestant circles. To put it simply, Jesus takes the penalty of sin and bears God’s judgment in our place, acting as a substitution for the punishment we deserve. It’s a strong model because it takes “curse” and “wrath” language found in Scripture very seriously. However, a weak point is that it sounds like intra-Trinitarian conflict and raises the “God against God?” problem, even if the Son willingly bears the Father’s judgment.
Christus Victor
This model is focused less on Christ receiving the wrath of the Father, and more on him entering into death, curse, and evil to defeat them from the inside. While the emphasis is on Christ’s victory over evil powers, this view is not incompatible with Penal Substitutionary Atonement, and in fact, both models make appearances in Martin Luther’s and John Calvin’s writings.
Moral Influence Theory
Theologians, like Augustine, proposed this theory as a way to shift the focus to Christ’s teachings and actions, rather than on legalism and punishment. The theory broadly states that Christ’s life and death serve as a moral example to inspire humans to live righteously.
Recapitulation Theory
This one mostly comes from Irenaeus, suggesting that Christ’s perfect life reversed the disobedience of Adam. He restores humanity’s relationship with God by embodying every stage of human life.
My Take
Aside from the Moral Influence Theory, which I feel strays too far from an accurate representation of sin and its effects, I believe you could hold any one of these models by itself and remain within orthodoxy. None of them are wrong, per se, but I would argue that they’re all incomplete.
The hidden assumption is that atonement is legal in nature. You have your list of sins, I have mine, and Jesus needed to pay for each of them individually for us to be considered justified before God. This is largely the idea behind PSA, and others that I didn’t mention, like the Ransom Theory. However, this raises a major question:
Finite Punishment
Jesus was on the cross for about six hours, which is pretty short for a crucifixion. If you hold to the PSA model, you have to say that he paid for everyone’s sins (past, present, and future) within that six-hour window. Most evangelicals will argue that even one sin is deserving of infinite punishment in hell, so for Jesus to pay for trillions (maybe more) of sins in a quarter of a day is quantitatively untenable.
A sin that deserves infinite punishment cannot be paid for in a finite amount of time.
To get around this, some would argue that Jesus held infinite worth, allowing him to speed up the process. But this just doesn’t work. “Infinite worth” is a claim about who Jesus is (his value), while “infinite punishment” is a claim about what must be endured (an endless penalty). Those are not the same kind of thing.
To say that Jesus’ infinite worth took care of infinite punishment is like saying a $1 bill printed by an infinitely valuable person is now worth infinite dollars. The categories don’t transfer.
We also don’t even know what “paying infinite punishment” means. If punishment is truly infinite, then by definition, it doesn’t terminate and can’t be completed. That leaves us with two options:
- Jesus actually did endure infinite punishment. That means it shouldn’t end, but… It did. And rather quickly, at that.
- Jesus didn’t actually endure it, but something equivalent. But now “equivalent” is undefined, and we’ve completely abandoned the original claim.
Ultimately, “infinite worth” just ends up being a theological shortcut that acts as a stopgap without explaining anything.
What Did Jesus Actually Do?
We’ve already established that sin isn’t just something you do; it’s also something that reigns, holds power, and enslaves. You might think of it as both a choice that you make and a state that has power over you.
The popular models of atonement tend to focus on sin as a choice, and Jesus as a sort of living currency that pays for our accumulated debt. But Scripture makes it pretty clear that the cross defeated sin as a state, so that sin is rendered powerless, if we are united with Christ in the likeness of his death (Rom 6:5-6).
We see this spelled out in a few places:
- Romans 8:3 – “For what the Law could not do, weak as it was through the flesh, God did; sending his own son in the likeness of sinful flesh and as an offering for sin, he condemned sin in the flesh…” You’ll notice here that “sin” (singular) is condemned through Jesus. Not a tally of wrongs, but a power that had to be defeated. In this sense, condemnation is not the transfer of punishment onto Christ, but God’s decisive judgment against sin itself, carried out in the flesh of Christ where sin’s power is brought to an end.
- 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.” That phrase, brought to nothing, is the verb “katargeō” which means: nullify, render inoperative, or disable. Which is to say, sin isn’t “paid for,” but rather, it’s decommissioned.
- Hebrews 2:14-15 – “Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery.” Again, the word destroy is the verb “katargeō” that we saw in Romans 6:6.
- 1 John 3:8 – “Whoever makes a practice of sinning is of the devil, for the devil has been sinning from the beginning. The reason the Son of God appeared was to destroy the works of the devil.” Here, we have it spelled out pretty clearly: The whole reason Jesus incarnated was to destroy the works of the devil, which includes sin.
Even in passages where sin is viewed as an account of wrongdoings, the message remains the same:
- 1 John 3:5 – “You know that he appeared in order to take away sins, and in him there is no sin.” This is a prequel to the verse we just looked at above, and in both cases, the intent is removal and destruction. Not accounting.
- John 1:29 – “The next day he (John the Baptist) saw Jesus coming toward him, and said, ‘Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!'” Notice that sin is “taken away,” not itemized. It’s also in the singular; not “sins” as a list.
I could keep going, but you get the point.
On the cross, Jesus didn’t pay for a tally of individual sins; he defeated the reality of sin itself. Because he was sinless, death had no rightful claim on him. So when he entered into death, it could not hold him, and its power was spent without securing victory.
Now the firstborn of those raised from the dead, Jesus is also a representative of humanity, just like Adam once was. And the only way to obtain salvation is via union with Jesus – in other words, becoming part of the “new humanity.” Forgiveness of sins is simply the state of being united with Christ, and having his righteousness and sinlessness imputed onto us. They are dealt with in Christ’s condemnation of sin, and therefore no longer counted against those who are in him.
Two Humanities: Adam vs Christ
Up to this point, we’ve talked about sin as both an act and a power, and we’ve seen that the cross deals not only with what we do, but with the very reality that enslaves us. We’ve also touched on the idea of representation: how Adam’s actions had consequences for all of humanity, and how Christ steps in as a new representative.
Now it’s time to expand on that idea, because it’s actually one of the most important frameworks in the New Testament. Scripture doesn’t just describe individuals who sin and then get forgiven; it tells the story of two distinct humanities, each defined by its own head, its own nature, and its own outcome. We’ll look at them both in turn:
In Adam
The first humanity is summed up in Adam.
Romans 5:12 tells us that sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin. From that point forward, death spread because humanity now exists within a reality shaped and corrupted by sin. We see this reiterated a little later in Romans 5:19: “For as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous.”
And again in 1 Corinthians 15:22: “For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive.”
The text makes it obvious that we’re people who exist in Adam, not just people who happen to sin. To be “in Adam” is to belong to a humanity where sin reigns, death is inevitable, and God’s wrath remains. This domain is inescapable because it has become the governing reality of human existence.
Which is exactly why we needed a new representative.
In Christ
Paul calls Jesus the “last Adam” in 1 Corinthians 15:45 and contrasts the two directly, as we saw above in Romans 5:12 and 1 Corinthians 15:22. Just as humanity was shaped by Adam’s disobedience, a new humanity is shaped by Christ’s obedience.
However, this isn’t merely about imitation or influence. The New Testament repeatedly makes it clear that there’s a locational element as well:
- 2 Corinthians 5:17 – “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.”
- Romans 8:1 – “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”
Just as people are born “in Adam,” they can now exist in Christ. And when Christ is your representative, instead of Adam, sin no longer reigns, death no longer defines your end, and wrath doesn’t remain. It has nothing to do with your past actions being individually itemized and cleared, but because you now belong to a completely different humanity.
With that being the case, our view of salvation itself needs to be refined. If salvation were only about forgiveness, then the problem would be that wrongs have been committed, and the solution would be that those wrongs are no longer counted against you. But that’s not where Scripture stops. In fact, it defines the problem in much broader terms: not just by what you’ve done, but by where you are. Paul says this explicitly in Colossians 1:13-14:
Who rescued us from the authority of darkness, and transferred us to the kingdom of the Son of His love, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.
The emphasis of our salvation is on relocation from the authority of darkness to the kingdom of Jesus. It is there, in him, that we have redemption, which is the forgiveness of sins.
God’s Wrath
Now, if we’re going to talk about sin, the cross, and what Jesus actually accomplished, we can’t avoid the topic of God’s wrath. In perusing a variety of online forums and social media comment sections (risky business, I know), I’ve been continually surprised to see how intent Christians are in saying, “We were saved by God, from God.”
Any attempt to argue otherwise is answered with mockery: “You must really have a problem with God’s wrath. What other parts of your theology have holes in them?”
That above quote comes directly from the comments section of a social media post on this topic. Maybe some of you agree with the sentiment; however, I’d caution against hubris and the temptation to take passages out of context. God’s wrath certainly exists, and it can be directed at humans, but it’s beneficial to define what “God’s wrath” actually is before arguing about it. Fortunately for us, Scripture does define it.
Romans 1:18 starts by saying, “For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth.”
The following verses go on to describe these people in more detail, before telling us what God’s wrath entails through a series of “gave them up” statements.
Vv. 24-25 – “Therefore God gave them up in the lusts of their hearts to impurity, to the dishonoring of their bodies among themselves, because they exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever! Amen.”
Vv. 26-27 – “For this reason God gave them up to dishonorable passions. For their women exchanged natural relations for those that are contrary to nature; and the men likewise gave up natural relations with women and were consumed with passion for one another, men committing shameless acts with men and receiving in themselves the due penalty for their error.”
Vv. 28-31 – “And since they did not see fit to acknowledge God, God gave them up to a debased mind to do what ought not to be done. They were filled with all manner of unrighteousness, evil, covetousness, malice. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, maliciousness. They are gossips, slanderers, haters of God, insolent, haughty, boastful, inventors of evil, disobedient to parents, foolish, faithless, heartless, ruthless.”
Paul couldn’t make it clearer what “God’s wrath” actually looks like. It’s not this image of God being enraged against sinners, needing an outlet for that anger, and graciously directing it at Jesus instead of us. Instead, it’s God saying, “You want that bad thing I warned you about? Okay. I’ll give you over to it.”
Put another way, God’s wrath is his opposition to sin, not a need to discharge anger onto a substitute. The cross is where God deals decisively with sin itself…not where he vents anger on Jesus instead of us.
How Do We Move from Adam to Christ?
If humanity is divided into two domains (Adam vs Christ), then the obvious question becomes…
How does someone actually move from one to the other?
This is arguably the question to answer, more than any other. It has implications for this life and the life to come, so let’s start by ruling out what doesn’t work:
- Trying harder
- Doing more good than bad
- Cleaning up your life
None of those things change your location. You can behave better while still being “in Adam,” just like you can behave poorly while being “in Christ.” Behavior matters, don’t get me wrong, but it doesn’t determine which humanity you belong to. Ephesians 2:8-9 makes this abundantly clear:
For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not of works, so that no one may boast.
So, if works don’t move you… What does?
Scripturally speaking, the answer is consistent throughout the whole New Testament: faith. Hebrews 11 has a lot to say on this topic, and the first verse even gives us a solid definition for faith as the “assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”
Faith is not merely agreeing with certain ideas or intellectually affirming that Jesus died and rose again. It’s assurance and conviction, not in a new moral code or fairy tales with no evidence, but in things that we hope for because we have good reason to believe they’re true. Hope in someone that we believe to be true.
Saving faith, therefore, is entrusting yourself to Christ and placing your life into his hands. It’s identifying yourself with him by confessing that he is Lord and believing in his resurrection (Rom 10:9). Faith is the mechanism by which we enter into union with Christ. Through this union, we participate in his death and resurrection; in that death, our sins are decisively dealt with (forgiven), and in that resurrection, we are constituted righteous.
At the moment of union, you are no longer “in Adam.” Instead, you’re “in Christ,” which means you acquire the same features that are attributed to him: sin doesn’t define your identity, death doesn’t define your future, and wrath no longer remains on you.
Why Sin Still Feels Present
Despite becoming united with Christ and submitting oneself to his headship, the battle against sin doesn’t go away. But why? If sin has been condemned, it’s power broken, and we now belong to a new humanity, why does sin feel so… present?
It’s true that, as Christians, we’re no longer under sin’s dominion or defined by our old identities. However, what changes immediately is our location, not our maturity. Habits don’t disappear overnight; thought patterns aren’t instantly rewired. According to Romans 6, we’re to consider ourselves dead to sin and not let it reign (vv. 11-12), which means that something has happened (we died to sin), but there’s still something we need to do (not let sin reign).
In other words, sin might not rule over you, but it can still influence you.
The New Testament often describes this ongoing tension using the language of the “flesh.” The desires of the flesh are against the Spirit (Gal 5:17), which means that your new life in Christ is now in conflict with the old patterns that were formed under Adam. This is why Scripture consistently calls believers to walk in the Spirit, put off the old self, and put on the new self. It’s not because you’re still “in Adam” locationally, but rather, because you’re learning how to live as someone who isn’t.
You’ve already died to sin. The victory is yours. Any battle you face henceforth isn’t about earning a new identity, but about aligning your life with the one you already have.
Final Thoughts
Ultimately, sin is not just something we do. It’s something that reigns, enslaves, and leads to death, making it both an act and a power. That means the solution to sin cannot simply be the cancellation of individual wrongdoings; it has to deal with the reality that produces them.
This is why the cross is so significant, and why the spiritual rulers and authorities never would have killed Jesus if they really understood what he was doing (1 Cor 2:8). Jesus did not step into history merely to balance a ledger. He entered into the full weight of sin’s domain (death, corruption, and everything that comes with it) and brought it to an end in himself. In his death, sin was condemned; in his resurrection, its power was broken; in his life, a new humanity began.
The gospel message is about transfer from Adam to Christ. It’s not as though our individual sins are meaningless, or that forgiveness is secondary, but the work that Jesus accomplished is greater than our limited focus on “sin ledgers” and “escaping damnation.” Instead, his goal was to reconcile us to the Father, bringing back the union that existed before the Fall in Eden. His original plan for humanity got derailed by Adam, which is why Jesus had to come and put things back on track.
This inevitably changes how we see God. He’s not looking for an outlet for anger; he decisively opposes sin and acts to remove it so that his plans will prevail. The cross is not a transaction to satisfy a requirement, but a victory that reshapes reality itself. And we should not merely see ourselves as those who have escaped damnation, but as people who are invited into an entirely new way of being human, growing in knowledge and obedience to the God we share union with.
The cross didn’t just change your record; it changed your reality.
