Paul’s interpretation the Christ-event was tied to his expectation of an imminent parousía, and it quickly became obsolete. Christ never returned. What did “grace” mean in these new circumstances? Christians would not conclude that Jesus wasn’t coming at all; they said his return was merely postponed. It’s not hard to imagine that there was also a gradual dawning that the postponement might be quite extended. But with it a problem began to arise: the apocalyptic pressure to join the Christian community, participate in its rituals and lead a morally exemplary life before the end, was gone. So Christians developed a new narrative that had the effect of keeping up the pressure for moral living: reward or punishment for the individual “soul” at death.
This significantly modified the earlier religious aspirations. Since Christ’s coming was postponed, those who died before his return would be judged and sentenced individually as souls alone and their bodies would be brought back for the final coming of Christ at the end of time to live again in “God’s” definitive kingdom. Because the real concern became individual salvation or damnation at death, the eschatology radically changed and along with it the community dimension virtually disappeared.
With the new narrative the so-called temporary “particular” judgment turned out to be, in fact, permanent. Your fate was sealed forever at the moment of death when you were given your eternal reward or punishment; the only addition at the “general” (community) judgment would be that your body would join you in heaven or hell. Given the focus on “salvation” for your individual bodiless “soul,” few were concerned that their bodies would rise, and while all would hope to see their loved ones again, there was no interest in the installation of a human community built on justice to replace the brutal empires that ruled their lives. It was all superfluous. The change insured that Christian individuals would be fixated on that other world where they would live happily after death as isolated spirits, and they saw life on this earth as a burden to be endured of no importance except as a testing ground for earning happiness in heaven. “Grace,” therefore, no longer referred to “God’s” compassion for oppressed humankind, the model of our love for one another, and became instead divine assistance to the individual “soul” in the struggle to “pass the test” and avoid damnation — the only thing that mattered. It totally reversed the central dynamic of Christian life from the personal-healing and community-building power of loving others as “God” loves us, to saving your own skin.
There is no documentation to tell us exactly when this transition was made; all we know is that by late in the second century when the last of the Apostolic Fathers were writing we see evidence that it was already underway. It also coincided with the emergence of hierarchical (class) structure in the Church community and the beginnings of proto-orthodoxy. Christianity transformed itself from a proclamation of free forgiveness and the establishment of an egalitarian community of the human family lost in a world of voracious empires, to a quid pro quo reward or punishment in another world for the predestined individual based on his/her moral behavior assisted by a “grace” that was channeled through magical rituals administered by the elite managers of an exclusive Church.
Quid pro quo was theoretically unacceptable, however, because it contradicted scripture: Paul had insisted that the “law” was abrogated. Redemption was our love for one another; it came alive in us by our “waking up” to “God’s” free gift of forgiving love. Augustine’s theory of “grace” claimed to counter the quid pro quo character of the new narrative, but he ended up intensifying it. For he tried to add grace under the rubric of “divine assistance” to the profile of a transcendent “God” who was necessarily bound to protect the established order and could only “save” by first finding a way to insure that all debts were paid. Augustine said Jesus’ death was the payment for Adam’s sin and it put the capstone on the ongoing assassination of “God’s” character. For how could anyone believe that “God” was merciful and forgiving if he was ready to send unbaptized infants to hell and even demanded the death of his own son to “atone” for sin? Clearly, Augustine’s “God” could not “forgive and forget;” his priority was justice, not mercy.
Besides, one needed Augustinian “grace” even to lead a good life. This resulted in making “God” indirectly the cause of people’s damnation; for it was “God” himself who chose to intervene with his grace — or not — in the lives of those slated for perdition, saving some and allowing the others to be damned without saying why. Divine predestination seemed unjust. Quid pro quo at least had some semblance of fairness.
And so the people clung to quid pro quo as the only thing that made sense. In practice, if Augustine’s theory of “grace” was intended to inspire a feeling of relief and joy about the free gift of God’s love, it failed pathetically. A thousand years later at the end of the middle ages, quid pro quo still dominated western Christian religiosity … and it remains so today. I claim it is due to the concept of “God” that underlay it. Justice was the priority for Augustine’s “God,” not mercy. Justice was grounded in the nature of things as ascertained by reason, and both “God” and man had to comply. “God’s” mercy, on the other hand, was ad libitum, a matter of whim; “God” was under no obligation to save anyone. This made “God” judge by profession and savior only when he felt like it. The “law” was not abrogated and “grace” became just another requisite that the individual needed in order to be “saved” but could not count on or control … just another source of insecurity.
Luther, for his part, made another attempt to reintroduce free forgiveness, but he used the same maneuver as Augustine — a reified “saving grace” he called “faith” — attributed to the same implacable Augustinian “God,” bound and obligated to defend the rationalized “order of nature” which included immutable moral principles enshrined in the commandments, the scriptural restatement of “natural law.” Luther’s “faith” wrecked on the same shoals as Augustine’s “grace” and quid pro quo today is as prominent in Protestant religiosity as Catholic. Luther certainly tried; and his “solution” seems to have worked for him personally. I believe he saw through Augustine’s contortions and went directly to what was implied by Augustine’s grace: that “God” was so bound to the requirements of justice that in fact he was not capable of forgiveness. But that was not a problem because for Luther forgiveness was not the issue. What was called “forgiveness” was actually “God’s” decision to not punish in acknowledgement of the fact that the individual bore no responsibility right from the beginning because the human will was not free. The evil done by a totally corrupt and fallen human nature was not avoidable; any good performed, therefore, from the conversion of “faith” through perseverance in a life of love, was the exclusive work of “God’s” grace. But this more radical version of Augustinian “grace” entailed a more radical version of predestination, and it made “God” even more of a monster: for it meant that Luther’s “God” presided over the damnation of those who bore no responsibility whatsoever … Nothing surprising here; it was the same Augustinian “God” who insisted on the damnation of unbaptized infants.
There is no way out. Once you project a scenario where “God” is necessarily committed to the punishment of those who violate the commandments, you must have human responsibility and you must have quid pro quo. Otherwise law and obedience, reward and punishment, make no sense, and the entire western Christian moral edifice motivated by individual self-interest collapses.
The Western “doctrine of God” evolved in tandem with all this. Since “God” is totally “other,” we have nothing in common with “God;” all we can do is conform our behavior: we have to obey. Obedience is an external link between two unrelated moral agents. No essential “interpersonal” relationship obtains. A “God” who is pure spirit and other-than-man promulgates a “natural law” that is pure logic and therefore other-than-human. Humankind is related to the rational “God’s” cosmic order not internally but by extrinsic obligation constrained by rigidly deduced rational principles. Forgiveness for violators, therefore, can only be an extrinsic pardon — a gratuitous “non-punishment” — in a relationship of infinite insurmountable distance; it can never result in, or be the fruit of, real union. At the root of it all is the concept of a rational “God” and his relationship to the universe he made, … and humankind as part of it. The kind of union between God and man which Jesus proclaimed is metaphysically possible only if you are “not-other” than “God.”
Jesus was not a philosopher. His preaching described in personal terms the relationship that should obtain between “God” and man — it was not quid pro quo and it did not include punishment. It was based on imitation, which implies similarity, sameness — “love one another as ‘God’ loves you,” “be perfect as your heavenly father is perfect,” “forgive us as we forgive one another.” The message is repeated over and over, and while there is no mention of the metaphysical ground required to make such imitation possible, Greek philosophical Christians later decided that Plato’s science of the transcendent inaccessibility of “God” was the only valid metaphysics, and it had to take priority. That made “God” not the same as us in any way. It meant that a remote dissimilar “God” could not really be imitated. The only relationship you can have with this kind of “God” is obedience and obeisance: you do what you’re told in total awe and submission. (Other “religions of the Book” function on exactly the same dynamic). This turned Jesus’ message upside down … and I contend that it is the best argument for saying that the only metaphysics that will support Jesus’ message is some form of pan-entheism … i.e., that we are part of “God,” where it is understood that we are “indeed ‘God’s’ offspring,” and that by nature we “live and move and have our being” in “God.”
Classic Greek Philosophical Christianity insisted we were totally “other” by nature and said that it was the Christ event applied through the Church’s sacraments that “supernaturally” made us to be “not-other” i.e., to be like “God” (theosis); but in fact the message of Jesus was the other way around: that we were like “God” from the very beginning and that’s why we could live a moral and caring life. Traditional Christianity bids us become something we are not through the mediation of the Church; Jesus’ Jewish innovation, in contrast, was to invite us to open our eyes to what we always were from the moment of birth without mediation of any kind. Religion’s classic program is intended to create a relationship where there was none, and reach toward an unknowable divine entity who is always beyond us, always absent; Jesus’ revolutionary program, on the other hand, is dedicated to clearing away the deceptions and confusions that have prevented us from seeing what was there all along, always present. “We are even now the children of ‘God’ … ”
The only metaphysics that is consistent with his vision is grounded in a source of LIFE — a non-rational “God”— that is immanent in the material universe … and WE ARE THAT.
 1 Jn 4:19; Mt 5:48; Mt 6:12.
 Acts 17: 27-28
 1 John 3:2