Tuesday, November 10, 2026

Book of Mormon Questions #14 (Theology)

To see the context for this and other questions in this series, please see the introduction, parts 1, 2, 3, and 4. 


What Are Satisfaction and Penal Substitution Theories Doing in the Book of Mormon?

Portions of this post are excerpted from my Dialogue article cited later in the post, which focuses more on inconsistencies in LDS cosmology.

The Atonement in the New Testament

 The Gospels have very little to say about how the Atonement works. Essentially, Jesus stated that he came to “give his life a ransom for many” (Matt. 20:28), that his blood would be “shed for many for the remission of sins” (Matt. 26:28), that he would voluntarily lay down his life (John 10:17), and that he would fulfill “all things . . . which were written in the law of Moses and in the prophets” (Luke 24:44). But any explanation of the mechanics of the Atonement, how exactly his suffering and death were to accomplish these things, is missing from the Gospels.

Peter and Paul attempted to interpret Jesus’s vicarious sacrifice, but their attempts were limited. In Romans 3:23–25, for example, Paul writes, “For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God; being justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus; whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation [pacification or appeasement] through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past, through the forbearance of God.” This suggests Christ pacifies the wrath of God against our sins through his own righteousness and suffering.

In 2 Corinthians 5:21, Paul says, “For he [God] hath made him [Jesus] to be sin for us, who knew no sin; that we might be made the righteousness of God in him.” This suggests that Jesus took upon himself our sins, a substitution, as it were, and thereby makes us righteous.

In 1 Peter 2:21–24, Peter declares, “Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that ye should follow his steps; who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth; who, when he was reviled, reviled not again; when he suffered he threatened not; but committed himself to him that judgeth righteously; who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree, that we, being dead to sins, should live unto righteousness; by whose stripes ye were healed.” This indicates again that Christ, being sinless, was able to suffer for our sins on the cross.

In 1 Peter 3:18, Peter writes, “For Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh, but quickened by the Spirit.” Again, Jesus, being sinless, suffered for us sinners.

A Brief History of Atonement Theology

This is about as far as the New Testament goes in explaining the Atonement. Consequently, the Early Church Fathers felt a need to develop theories to explain the mechanics and a systematic doctrine of the Atonement. For a couple of centuries, the moral influence theory prevailed. Its teachers “suggested that Christ’s ability to save mankind . . . came chiefly through his ability to inspire moral change.”1

The next theory, which overlapped with the moral influence theory and endured until Middle Ages, was ransom theory. Since humanity came into this world of sin in a fallen state, we are in bondage to the devil. As explained by R. W. Southern, “God became Man, and the Devil failed to realize it. He failed to see the Divinity beneath the human form. He claimed Him as his own and subjected Him to Death. But in doing this he committed that great act of lawlessness—that extension of his authority over One who had made no diffidatio, no surrender of Himself to the Devil—and this lost him his empire.”2 In this way, Christ became a ransom for sinful humanity and freed us from bondage to the devil.

Ransom theory prevailed until Anselm, a monk and bishop at Canterbury, proposed a new interpretation of the Atonement in the 11th century. Precursors to Anselm can be found in the writings of church fathers in both the eastern and western tradition, but while they emphasized the conflict between God and Satan that lay at the heart of ransom theory, “some of these authors—most notably Athanasius and Augustine—emphasized the justice of God’s actions in this conflict. Concern about the place of justice in the Atonement grew over the centuries, though most theologians continued to adhere to the basic tenets of ransom theory.”3 Anselm’s innovation dispensed with the idea that the devil had any claim on humankind. Instead, he “emphasized the need for humanity to make satisfaction for sin, which Anselm viewed as an affront to the honor of God.”4 But since it was impossible for men or women to make this satisfaction, God became man, and Jesus Christ offered that satisfaction for all of sinful humanity. Anselm’s theory fits comfortably within the medieval feudalistic understanding of authority and of reparation.

Anselm’s theory of atonement, known as satisfaction theory, prevailed until the Reformation, when the idea of justice became prominent. The Reformers “adjusted Anselm’s view in one important way to produce what scholars have called ‘penal’ or ‘substitution theory.’”5 Most prominent in this development was John Calvin, who put atonement theory in terms of criminal law, since he was trained as a lawyer. “The sin of mankind, the Reformers contended, was not an affront to God’s honor—as for a feudal lord betrayed by his vassal—but, rather, a breaking of his moral code. Hence, God required punishment for wrongdoing rather than satisfaction for slighted honor. Christ took this punishment upon himself; as a sinless man, he paid the penalty for the guilty. . . . Penal theory has remained the standard interpretation of Christ’s Atonement throughout the Christian world to the present.”6 This is also the theory that prevails in Mormonism, largely because it appears prominently in the Book of Mormon.

Punishment—a Violent Universe

Let me digress for a moment, though. For my purposes here, an important question is whether the moral law requires a punishment if it is violated. Lehi, in the Book of Mormon, answers in the affirmative (2 Ne. 2:10). So does Amulek (Alma 34:14–16). But does this make sense? Doctrine and Covenants section 19 suggests that sin (the conscious violation of moral law) requires an excruciating physical and spiritual punishment—in other words, violence (vv. 16–18). But why?

In my Dialogue article “Getting the Cosmology Right,”7 I explore the question of where the moral law originated. Did God simply think it up? This view is often called divine command theory, and it is problematic for reasons too involved to go into here (see my article for a more thorough discussion). The other option for Mormons is that the moral law existed before God became God, and he is bound by such moral principles as justice and mercy. This second view is the one presented, for the most part, in the Book of Mormon. But if no one created the moral law, does the law itself require violence if it is violated? Apparently, the scriptural answer is yes. And this is a significant reason behind the proclaimed need for an infinite atonement. God must be just, so a punishment is necessary, but God must also be merciful, hence the need for a Savior to suffer vicariously for us. But why is such a drastic measure required apparently indiscriminately, regardless of the severity of the infraction? (see D&C 19).

In this life, we have myriad examples of how people can reform and improve and become more perfect without horrific punishment and without even the threat of violence. If someone steals from me, feels remorse, and returns the stolen item, I do not need to require that person to be beaten with a cudgel as a payment for the misdeed. Neither do I need someone like Jesus to be beaten with a cudgel for that person’s wrong. And the person does not need to be beaten to motivate him to not steal again. I can simply forgive the person and encourage him to live a moral life. And if he does, end of story, at least as far as I’m concerned. For reform and improvement to take place, there is often no actual need for a severe punishment, inflicted either directly or vicariously. This being true, why would an eternal moral law demand violence for every sin? This I find hard to understand. But if instead it is God who demands the punishment, the violence, rather than the law itself, we must still ask why. What reason would he have for exacting a painful punishment even when the sinner experiences remorse and desires to reform? Why must the sinner, or his vicarious substitute, experience a painful punishment for performing an immoral act (see D&C 19:16)? What would be the purpose of such violence?

We read in the Book of Mormon that God has to be just. If he is not just, he is not God (Alma 42:13, 15, 22, 25). Note that God’s need to be just is not dependent on his own arbitrary declaration that justice is a moral attribute. No, justice appears to be an independent standard that God must adhere to, otherwise he ceases to be God. He becomes something else if he is not just. Mercy is a similar attribute. “God himself atoneth for the sins of the world, to bring about the plan of mercy, to appease the demands of justice, that God might be a perfect, just God, and a merciful God also” (Alma 42:15). But does being just involve always meting out a horrible punishment for every sin, either to the sinner or to some innocent substitute? Alma insists this is so: “Repentance could not come unto men except there were a punishment” (Alma 42:16). Why is it impossible to repent without a punishment? What sort of eternal law requires this?

Another problem with the notion of severe and painful punishment for every sin is that there are endless gradations of sin. And the idea that a person who tells a white lie that harms no one deserves the same awful punishment as a serial rapist simply does not make sense. In our mortal legal codes, we recognize the need for the punishment to fit the crime, and also for the punishment to vary—or even be expunged—according to all sorts of extenuating circumstances. Indeed, for some minor infractions of the law, particularly when much time has passed and the violator has since lived a law-abiding life, no punishment is exacted. That eternal law would not do likewise is unthinkable to me. But section 19 of the Doctrine and Covenants presents just such a scenario.

Martin Harris did not murder anyone. He did not rape anyone. He did not steal the 116 manuscript pages and sell them to Joseph’s enemies. He just wanted to show them to his wife and a few family members. Maybe he was careless. Maybe he thought he knew better than God what was permissible. Maybe he was proud. But maybe he just wanted to preserve peace with his wife, who was struggling with Martin’s devotion to Joseph’s story. Maybe he wanted validation, so he showed the pages to a handful of people who weren’t supposed to see them. The pages were stolen from him. And for this, he was threatened with the same excruciating pain that Jesus experienced in Gethsemane and on the cross, unless he repented. If this revelation is a recitation of the Lord’s words and not a text influenced by Joseph’s own guilt and his frustration with Martin, it indicates that each of us will be subject to that same punishment for any and all sins we do not repent of. Is this the sort of cosmos we inhabit? One that demands excruciating pain for every single sin, no matter how severe? Why? And the only way we can avoid this pain is for someone else to suffer it for us? Again, what sort of universe would require such an arrangement? Who divined this intent in the eternal moral law? This argument relies, of course, upon a certain theory of atonement, the penal substitution theory. Because the Book of Mormon preaches this theory, we must acknowledge that LDS doctrine teaches excruciating punishment for sins, unless the sinner repents. But even then, Jesus had to endure this punishment in our stead.

Some might argue that without the threat of a punishment, there is no incentive to change or reform or improve. I do not accept this argument, not in all cases, perhaps not even in most. Many people have shown that they will improve and change simply because they want to become better people. There is in many people an attraction to moral behavior and a revulsion regarding what we define as immoral behavior. Indeed, when we encounter a completely amoral person, we are troubled. We assume something fundamental is wrong with that person. Much of this may be attributed to culture and education, but where did this compulsion for moral education come from? Certainly not from the threat of violence. Many people are also motivated to improve because of the love of others. Indeed, love often seems a far better motivator than fear. So, this is one problem I see with the LDS doctrine of sin and the law. There are others, but this post is too long already.

The LDS Concept of Atonement

The LDS concept of atonement comes largely from the Book of Mormon, but this presents some unique problems, partially because atonement theology in the Book of Mormon is somewhat inconsistent. Historian Matthew Bowman made the following observation: “The atonement theory of the Book of Mormon is . . . complicated; it frequently describes the atonement in terms of ransom theory (2 Nephi 2:27; [2] Nephi 9:10), for example, and contains verses consistent with a subjective, moral influence theory (Alma 7:11). The most extended Book of Mormon discussions of the atonement, however, describe it in legalistic terminology, meeting the inexorable demands of natural law. See Alma 34 and 42.”8

If you look at the verses Bowman references for ransom and moral influence theories, however, the evidence is not very strong. For instance, 2 Nephi 2:27 does speak of “the captivity and power of the devil” and of “the great Mediator,” but there is no mention of a ransom being paid, although if there were a ransom, we must assume it would be paid to the devil, since he apparently holds us captive in some way. The preceding verse speaks of people being “redeemed from the fall” and becoming “free forever, knowing good from evil,” but again, there is no mention of a ransom. Likewise, 2 Nephi 9:10, which Bowman misidentifies as 1 Nephi 9:10, speaks of God preparing “a way for our escape from the grasp of this awful monster; yea, that monster, death and hell.” And the preceding verse speaks of our spirits becoming “angels to a devil” without the Atonement. But there is no mention of our deliverance being made possible by God or of Christ paying a ransom to the devil for our release. The means by which we gain freedom from death and hell is not specified. Much can be read into these verses and others, but the Book of Mormon in general does not speak of the Atonement as a ransom.

Bowman’s single reference to the Book of Mormon’s support for the moral influence theory of atonement is even less convincing. Alma 7:11 states, “And he shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people.” In the next verse, Alma declares that Christ “will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know how to succor his people according to their infirmities.” According to BYU professor John Young, proponents of moral influence theory “suggested that Christ’s ability to save mankind, to make them one with God, came chiefly through his ability to inspire moral change. . . . Through emulation, humans achieve a moral character pure enough to warrant inclusion in heaven.”9 Alma 7:11 and the verses preceding and following it do not speak in these terms. Alma is claiming instead that Christ somehow took upon him our infirmities, our pains and sicknesses, so that he can know how to succor us. Nowhere in this chapter does Alma claim that Jesus saves us by the example of his moral character.

Others, particularly Eugene England, Blake Ostler, and Terryl Givens, have expounded theories of atonement based on Book of Mormon teachings that strip it of its more legalistic aspects, but if we look carefully at the two chapters that specifically address atonement theology, Alma 34 and 42 (both mentioned by Bowman), we must acknowledge that the Book of Mormon’s position on the Atonement is predominantly in harmony with satisfaction theory and, especially, penal substitution theory, which has been strongly proclaimed by such modern-day Apostles as Boyd K. Packer.10

Amulek, in his sermon recorded in Alma 34, speaks of a “great and last sacrifice” that must be made and that must be “infinite and eternal” (v. 10). This harks back to the notion that sin requires a violent punishment to be erased. Amulek relies strongly on the idea that there is a law that requires some sort of satisfaction. “The law requireth the life of him who hath murdered; therefore there can be nothing which is short of an infinite atonement which will suffice for the sins of the world” (v. 12). He also emphasizes Jesus’s ability to “satisfy the demands of justice” (v. 16). Christ stands “betwixt [the children of men] and justice; . . . having redeemed them, and satisfied the demands of justice” (Mosiah 15:9). An earlier prophet, Jacob, also teaches that “the atonement satisfieth the demands of his justice upon all those who have not the law given to them” (2 Ne. 9:26).

The law is crucially important in the Book of Mormon―in Lehi’s teachings to Jacob (2 Ne. 2:5, 7, 13, 26), in Jacob’s words to the people of Nephi (2 Ne. 9: 25–27), in King Benjamin’s great sermon at the temple (Mosiah 2:33), and especially in Alma’s masterful discourse to his son Corianton (Alma 42). Alma is answering his son’s question regarding “the justice of God in punishing the sinner” (v. 1). Justice, of course, has everything to do with the law, and “all mankind were fallen, and they were in the grasp of justice” (v. 14). The redemption of humankind could be effected only through “the plan of mercy . . . ; therefore God himself atoneth for the sins of the world, to bring about the plan of mercy, to appease the demands of justice, that God might be a perfect, just God, and a merciful God also” (v. 15). Alma emphasizes the necessity of repentance and of punishment for breaking the law. “Now, repentance could not come unto men except there were a punishment, which also was eternal as the life of the soul should be” (v. 16). Alma then asks what he considers a logical sequence of questions. “Now, how could a man repent except he should sin? How could he sin if there was no law? How could there be a law save there was a punishment?” (v. 17). He then attempts to explain to Corianton the necessity of the law. “If there was no law given against sin men would not be afraid to sin. . . . But there is a law given, and a punishment affixed, and a repentance granted; which repentance mercy claimeth; otherwise justice claimeth the creature and executeth the law, and the law inflicteth the punishment; if not so, the works of justice would be destroyed, and God would cease to be God” (vv. 20, 22).

Alma seems to hold two contradictory ideas regarding the cosmology behind the law. He speaks as if God has given the law to us and established a punishment for violating it. But he also speaks as if God is bound by a higher moral law. He must be both just and merciful. These appear to be moral concepts that God did not invent but that he must obey in order to be God. Perhaps God abides by an eternal moral law that governs his ability to be considered deity. Based on this moral law, he then gives us various moral laws that we must follow. If we don’t, we will be punished, or else we must find a substitute to suffer for us. The punishment is fixed and eternal, and someone must pay the penalty. The law must be satisfied. So, either the sinners themselves or some acceptable substitute must suffer. Because the moral law requires God to be merciful, he suffers the penalty himself, in the person of Jesus, “to appease the demands of justice” (v. 15). “What,” Alma asks Corianton, “do ye suppose that mercy can rob justice? I say unto you, Nay; not one whit. If so, God would cease to be God” (v. 25)

This assumption about God’s relationship to a higher moral law is consistent with Joseph Smith’s later teachings, but it also raises questions about the nature of the eternity we inhabit. And what if God were to cease being merciful or just? Would he be punished? By whom or what? What sort of violent punishment would he face? And who established this requirement?

Conclusion

This post has been rather long and convoluted, but the relevant question for this series is simply, what are satisfaction and penal substitution theories, which originated centuries after Alma and Amulek taught them, doing in the Book of Mormon? These atonement theories have flaws, some of which I have pointed out. Other writers have explored different problems with these theories that I will not examine here. What is apparent is that the theology in the Book of Mormon is often anachronistic, fitting far better, as Royal Skousen has argued, in the 16th and 17th centuries than in ancient America. But what should we think also about the whole notion behind penal substitution, the idea that a moral law that apparently predates God’s exaltation and that he must follow requires a violent punishment for every sin? This is the doctrine that both the Book of Mormon and modern revelation give us.

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 1. John D. Young, “Long Narratives: Toward a New Mormon Understanding of Apostasy,” in Standing Apart: Mormon Historical Consciousness and the Concept of Apostasy (New York: Oxford University Press, 2014), 319.

2. R. W. Southern, The Making of the Middle Ages (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1953), 235.

3. Young, “Long Narratives,” 322.

4. Young, “Long Narratives,” 322.

5. Young, “Long Narratives,” 323.

6. Young, “Long Narratives,” 323–24.

7. Roger Terry, “Getting the Cosmology Right,” Dialogue: A Journal of Mormon Thought 54, no. 4 (2021): 71–98.

8. Matthew Bowman, “The Crisis of Mormon Christology: History, Progress, and Protestantism, 1880–1930,” Fides et Historia 40, no. 2 (2008): 4 n. 10.

9. Young, “Long Narratives,” 319.

10. Boyd K. Packer, “The Mediator,” Ensign 7, no. 5 (May 1977): 54–56.