So is there a Christological surplus in the work of Anselm of Canterbury which might allow for resistance against the empire? Rieger claims that there is, but that this does not mean that we will be free from difficulty in our pursuit. Whatever surplus we ultimately find, we must recognize that it lies beneath the surface of Anselm’s actual writings, meaning that it was never explicitly considered or intended by the man himself to have been a resource for resistance against the Norman empire. In addition to this, we must be aware that there will be an equal opportunity for imperial abuse present at each of the precise points wherein we locate our subversive surplus. While we will certainly be able to find ambivalence and unresolved tensions in Cur Deus Homo that will provide us an occasion to mine for precious nuggets of resistance, we will most definitely have to push beyond Anselm by developing more complex and developed understandings of his fundamental Christological concepts if we are to avoid having his Christology pressured back underneath imperial control.
The first of the three most significant areas where we might locate our surplus is in Anselm’s wholesale rejection of the ransom theory of the atonement (which in Anselm’s day was considered to have been a thoroughly orthodox position). The ransom theory stated that the devil had gained some sort of control over humanity and that (through Christ) God had either struck a deal with or deceived him in order to accomplish the redemption of the human race. In Anselm’s mind, this view illegitimately granted a significant amount of power to the devil, and he wanted to keep all power in the hands of God. If God possesses unilateral power (and his kingship is defined by the cruciform life of Christ rather than by the empire) perhaps salvation is much more broadly inclusive than any of us had previously been envisioned. In other words, because it is the God of the cross who enjoys all authority independently, conceivably it will not be the elites alone who will derive benefits from His kingship. This of course all depends on the way in which we understand the concept of lordship. The cruciform life of Jesus was of little (if any) importance to Anselm and in fact (hypothetically) Jesus Himself could have been completely abstracted from Anselm’s Christological equation without doing any significant harm to the essential thrust of his theory. For those of us searching for a resistance factor in Anselm, it is essential that the life of Christ provide us with our definition of lordship.
The next two areas where we could possibly unearth traces of surplus are interrelated in Anselm’s thought; sin and satisfaction. Sin was that which had torn apart the relationship between God and humanity as well as that which had destroyed the created order. It was the primary theological problem which Anselm sought to contend with in his Christology. Rieger notes here the similarity between Anselm’s theology and contemporary liberation theologies which both stress sin as a dreadfully serious and structural dilemma. His emphasis on sin could function as an important critique against the empire in that it refuses to ignore the severe offenses that are typically committed against humanity (with special reference to the poor and the marginalized) by the imperial power brokers. Satisfaction (Anselm’s means of dealing with sin) might contribute towards resistance in a few additional ways. It could be valuable for those of whom satisfaction has been demanded in that it can serve to place limits upon punishment, so that calls for justice remain reasonable (similar to lex talionis). Also, since Anselm was in no sense weak on injustice, it might also be viewed as a source of encouragement for society’s oppressed due to the fact that it promises that imperial injustice will ultimately be dealt with. Finally, God’s provision of satisfaction as an alternative to punishment reveals that the demands of justice are ultimately to be restorative, rather than retributive.