Thus, the phrase “all would have to die” must be understood precisely: all were already under a sentence of death in Adam. Condemnation is not something that merely awaits future application; it is the inherited condition of fallen humanity. For this reason, it is said that whoever does not believe is already condemned — not because a new judgment must be instituted, but because such a person remains in the Adamic condition.
This point is crucial, for it shifts the axis of the discussion. If condemnation entered through a single offense and reached all in solidarity with Adam, then the solution presented in Christ must likewise be understood in representative terms. The contrast is not between accumulated individual debts and penalties paid, but between two federal heads and two states of existence: death in Adam and life in Christ.
When it is said that Christ needed to become man in order to “die in our place and pay the penalties of sin,” the first two elements are correct: He needed to become man in order to die. However, the expression “pay penalties” must be carefully defined. In what sense did He die “in our place”? As Lamb, His death is substitutive; as Servant, His death is the fruit of perfect obedience. Yet Scripture does not describe the cross as a pecuniary transaction in which a penal sum was settled.
The biblical logic is representative and obediential. Just as death came through one man, so also resurrection came through one man (1 Corinthians 15:21–22). If one died for all, therefore all died (2 Corinthians 5:14). The point is not a commercial transfer of guilt, but representative inclusion: in Adam, all died; in Christ, a new humanity is inaugurated.
The cancellation of the sinner’s debt, in this sense, does not occur through an external payment, but through the death of the sinner himself in union with Christ. The old man is crucified with Him. Death breaks the bond with the former master. Deliverance is not a financial ransom from the “clutches of the devil,” but the death of the Adamic man and the emergence of new life in Christ.
Therefore, the cross must not be reduced to an accounting operation of moral debit and credit. It is, at the same time, the fulfillment of God’s justice in the perfect obedience of the Servant and the manifestation of grace that grants life through the substitutive death of the Lamb. What is substituted is not merely penalty, but the act itself: where there was disobedience, there is obedience; where there was inherited death, there is communicated life.
The notion of “double imputation” becomes problematic when it is asserted that “we come down from the cross with the righteousness of God and the right to heaven,” as though the cross were a point of legal exchange in which Christ receives our sin and we receive His righteousness as a transferred credit. This formulation ignores the biblical logic of union with Christ. In Romans 6, what “comes down” from the cross is not the sinner carrying a new legal title, but the crucified old man.
“Knowing this, that our old man was crucified with Him, that the body of sin might be done away with” (Romans 6:6).
“He who has died has been justified from sin” (Romans 6:7) — that is, freed from sin as master. Justification, in this context, is not limited to an external declaration, but implies real liberation from the dominion that formerly held us as slaves. When the body that bound the man to sin is destroyed, the power that subjected him is broken, inaugurating a new condition of life.
From the cross, therefore, there does not emerge a sinner enriched with merit; rather, there emerges the body of sin destined for burial, as in the spiritual circumcision described in Colossians 2:11 — the putting off of the body of the flesh. The old man who ascends the cross receives the wage of transgression, so that no penalty remains to be transferred as though it were a commercial or juridical transaction applied to Christ, for it is established that “the soul who sins shall die” (Ezekiel 18:4).
The wages of sin is death, and it is precisely this death that is fulfilled in union with Christ. What is eliminated is not an abstract debt, but the very body that belonged to sin — that is, the condition of subjection inherited from the offense of one (Romans 5). The cross brings the Adamic man to an end for those who have faith in Christ and inaugurates a new condition of existence in Him.
Since penalty does not extend beyond the person of the transgressor, and all humanity became transgressor by reason of Adam’s offense, Christ did not die as a third-party outsider in place of others. He did not die as a moral culprit, but as the representative head (the last Adam), assuming the mortal condition in order to conquer it through obedience. He died as the federal head-man, the last Adam, in equality of human condition with the first — true man, yet without sin.
By dying in obedience, Christ inaugurated the new and living way. Thus, those who, in obedience to the Father, believe that Jesus is Lord and Christ participate in this representative death: they break with sin by crucifying the body of sin and are brought to God through Christ by means of the new birth.
Only the new creature who rises with Christ participates in the righteousness of God. Righteousness is not an object that the sinner carries away from the cross; it belongs to the new life inaugurated in the resurrection. The cross does not produce a juridically reconstituted sinner, but brings the old man to an end and inaugurates a new creation.
Likewise, the assertion that “Jesus left the cross with our sin and with the right to divine wrath” must be carefully examined. Christ did not become a sinner nor did He become the object of ontological repulsion by the Father. He was born without sin, lived without sin, and ascended the cross in perfect obedience.
What He endured was the opposition and hostility of His persecutors, remaining like a silent lamb before those who afflicted Him (cf. Isaiah 53:7), and voluntarily submitting to physical death in order to reverse the Adamic condition — separation from God, that is, the death that entered the world as a consequence of sin.
Christ representatively assumed the condition of fallen humanity, facing the death that had reached it, yet without becoming a sinner in Himself. His identification was solidaristic and representative, not ontological in the sense of moral transformation. He took upon Himself the mortal condition inherited from Adam in order to overcome it through obedience and life.
Scripture affirms that God did not despise nor hide His face from Him (Psalm 22:24) and that it was not possible for Him to be held by death (Acts 2:24). Jesus’ declaration on the cross — “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” — should not be understood as an ontological rupture in the communion between Father and Son, but as a clear invitation to read Psalm 22 in its entirety.
Those standing at the foot of the cross regarded Him as stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted (cf. Isaiah 53:4). Yet Psalm 22 itself, which begins with the cry of apparent abandonment, culminates in the affirmation that God did not hide His face from the afflicted one, but heard him when he cried out. Jesus’ cry, therefore, does not express defeat or definitive rejection, but points to the prophetic fulfillment that, through suffering, leads to vindication.
The cross is not the rupture of Trinitarian communion, but the apex of the Son’s obedience. Sin, in Scripture, is presented as an inherited condition — a “birth curse” linked to solidarity in Adam — while righteousness is likewise a birth condition, linked to filiation in Christ. The strictly forensic conception of double imputation tends to treat sin and righteousness as isolated judicial transactions; the biblical logic, however, is deeper: it is representative, ontological, and relational. In Adam we died; in Christ we die to sin and rise to righteousness.
To assess whether the strictly forensic reading corresponds to the biblical use of the term “impute,” it is necessary to examine its semantic field in Scripture. The discussion cannot be limited to later systematic constructions; it must begin with biblical vocabulary and its contextual usage. Only then is it possible to determine whether the notion of legal credit corresponds to the original meaning of the sacred text.
Imputation of sin?
Pastor Paulo Junior’s exposition reflects the classical formulation of Reformed theology, especially as presented by David S. Steele and Curtis C. Thomas in the article The Imputation of Sin and the Righteousness Attributed to Christ and to the Believer. According to this line of thought, to impute means to “put something on one’s account,” “to credit,” or “to legally attribute” to someone something that comes to be considered juridically his. Thus, the sins of believers would have been credited to Christ, and the righteousness of Christ credited to believers.
However, this definition proceeds from a strongly juridical reading of the concept. In biblical Hebrew, the verb generally translated as “impute” derives from the root חָשַׁב (ḥāshav), whose semantic range includes: to think, to consider, to calculate, to estimate, to attribute, to count as, to take into account. It is originally an evaluative and declarative term, not a technical juridical one.
The paradigmatic use appears in Genesis 15:6:
“And he believed the LORD, and it was imputed to him (וַיַּחְשְׁבֶהָ – vayachsheveha) as righteousness.”
The text does not describe an ontological transfer of moral substance nor an accounting credit of accumulated righteousness, but a declarative act of God. Abraham believed the promise — specifically the promise concerning the descendant — and God regarded that faith as righteousness. The point is relational and covenantal: God declared Abraham righteous on account of his trust in the divine promise.
Reformed theology, however, expands this concept into a more rigid juridical framework, affirming that God judicially regards the believer as righteous while he remains ontologically a sinner. Steele and Thomas explicitly state that imputation “does not change the nature of anything; it only affects the legal position of the person.”
Here the difficulty arises: if imputation alters no nature whatsoever, then Christ could legally receive sin without becoming a sinner, and the believer could legally receive righteousness without becoming righteous. The category becomes exclusively forensic. Yet Scripture presents justification as linked to new creation, not merely to an external legal repositioning.
The distinction between human consideration and divine consideration is fundamental. Man considers on the basis of limited inference; God considers on the basis of His omniscience. When God “considers,” He does not merely estimate; He declares according to the reality He Himself establishes. His declaration is not juridical fiction, but the expression of truth.
Although the term ḥāshav is not intrinsically juridical, the Reformed tradition inserts it into a legal framework, affirming that Christ was made legally responsible for the sins of the believer and suffered the corresponding punishment. Scripture, however, describes sin primarily as a condition inherited in Adam — a birth reality — and not merely as an individual accounting debt.
The basis of biblical justification is not a mere “legal position,” but the believer’s new condition as a new creature. The believer is described as born again, a participant in the divine nature, created according to God in true righteousness and holiness. Righteousness is not merely declared externally; it belongs to the new reality inaugurated in Christ.
Another problematic point is the idea that Christ accumulated merit by keeping the precepts of the Mosaic law, merit which would later be credited to believers. Jesus did not come simply to fulfill specific legal regulations in order to accumulate transferable moral capital. He is the fulfillment of the law. He did not come to keep the Sabbath as a ritual observer, but as Lord of the Sabbath (Matthew 12:4–8). He did not come to perform purification rituals as one in need of cleansing, but as the One who purifies (Mark 7:2).
When it is said that God sees the believer “as if” he had performed all the works of Christ, the emphasis shifts from union with Christ to an external representative fiction. Scripture, however, presents justification as inseparable from union with Him.
The misunderstanding of justification also arises from isolating the term “faith” (pistis). In several passages, Paul employs “faith” as a figure representing the objective reality of the gospel — the historical manifestation of Christ. In Galatians 3:23, for example, he speaks of the faith that was to be revealed, making clear that he is not referring merely to the subjective act of believing, but to the concrete revelation of the promised Christ.
Christ is the means of salvation. Man is saved because of Christ, not because of the intrinsic value of his belief. Subjective faith is the means by which one appropriates Christ, but the cause of salvation is the person and work of the Son. The promise requires that man believe, but the foundation of justification lies not in the psychological act of believing, but in the objective reality of Christ.
Thus, the doctrine of double imputation, when formulated as a mere accounting transfer of guilt and merit, reduces the cross to an abstract juridical operation. Scripture, however, presents a deeper reality: representative death in Adam, representative new life in Christ, real union with the Son, and ontological transformation through the new creation.
The Bible does not treat perdition and salvation primarily as matters of accumulated demerit or merit, but as consequences of birth. Natural birth binds man to the Adamic condition and therefore to death; spiritual birth binds him to Christ and consequently to life. It is not, first and foremost, an accounting adjustment, but a change of headship and nature: in Adam, death; in Christ, life.
Conclusion
The incarnation, obedience, and death of Christ form an inseparable unity. He is born to obey; He obeys unto death; and through this consummated obedience He inaugurates a new humanity. The cross is not merely the place of penal settlement, but the point of transition between two conditions: solidarity in Adam and union in Christ.
The gospel proclaims not merely juridical acquittal, but new creation. In Adam, death; in Christ, life. The “act of righteousness” is not a simple accounting credit, but perfect obedience manifested in the new life that proceeds from the last Adam. Jesus was born to obey — and, by obeying unto death, opened the way for many to live.
