Tag Archives: Karl Barth

Ascension and Mission

Theology, ,
Benjamin West (1801)
Benjamin West (1801)

One of my favourite books on the creeds is Luke Timothy Johnson’s The Creed: What Christians Believe and Why it Matters. Johnson’s exposition is concerned with the biblical background and foundations of the Nicene Creed, and so traces these aspects with respect to each statement of the Creed. Recently I read again his exposition of the phrase “he ascended into heaven and sits on the right hand of the Father” (pp. 186-192), and came across the following comment:

The fact that Luke himself has provided two distinct versions of the same event—both remarkably restrained—liberates us from the tedious work of trying to literalize either of them and argue that the ascension is a historical event. As in the case of the resurrection narratives, let us recognize that the experience and conviction of Jesus’ exaltation are not to be identified with the story, and also that these narratives are written to suggest through their choice of symbols the deeper significance of the event (189).

I have often wondered at the two ascension accounts in Luke, with the first reported in Luke 24 as occurring on the evening of the first Easter, and the second (Acts 1) occurring some forty days later. Modern cosmology also challenges a strictly literal reading of the ascension stories since we know that heaven is not located vertically above us. But Johnson is not merely demythologising in the interests of providing an account more palatable to modern sensibilities or worldview:

Although the story of Jesus’ ascension appears in only two New Testament writings, Mark and Luke-Acts, the conviction that Jesus is now in heaven and “exalted,” and “glorified,” and “enthroned” is found everywhere in the New Testament (188).

The ascension is a remythologisation of the world. Jesus is now ascended, now enthroned, now reigning; the church are those gathered around his throne, receiving the gift and gifts of his Spirit to witness to his reign in the midst of the world. He is at the right hand of the Father, and we, in him. And so Barth says,

Christ is now, as the Bearer of humanity, as our Representative, in the place where God is and in the way in which God is. Our flesh, our human nature, is exalted in Him to God. The end of His work is that we are with Him above. We with Him beside God (Dogmatics in Outline, 125).

But not simply with God but also sent by God.

His departure means not only an end but also a beginning… Christ founds his Church by going to the Father, by making Himself known to His Apostles. … Christ is the Lord. That is what all creation, what all nations should know. The conclusion of Christ’s work is therefore not an opportunity given to the Apostles for idleness, but it is their being sent out into the world. Here there is no rest possible; here there is rather a running and racing; here is the start of the mission, the sending of the Church into the world and for the world (127).

The “Practical” Trinity – Catherine Mowry LaCugna

Books, Theology, ,

Catherine LaCugnaIn my Introduction to Systematic Theology class I often have students research one of the “great” theologians or engage a classical theological text. I am usually troubled that my selection is entirely male, although thankfully, that is now beginning to change with some outstanding female theologians emerging. The reason for the selection is simply that the history of Christian thought has, until recent decades, been largely a male story. This year, however, I decided I had to change this imbalance and so included a reading by Catherine Mowry LaCugna alongside those by Athanasius, Luther and Barth. I suspect that LaCugna’s God For Us will not actually be viewed in the future as a “classic,” although it was a celebrated volume when it was published in the early 1990s and still commands much respect today. The feminist Catholic theologian died prematurely in May 1997, at only forty-four years of age.

In our seminar we focussed on LaCagna’s final chapter, “The Practical Trinity.” LaCugna writes beautifully and passionately and has an amazing vision of “the household of God” understood through the lens of Jesus’ life and teaching.

The form of God’s life in the economy dictates both the shape of our experience of that life and our reflection on that experience. Led by the Spirit more deeply into the life of Christ, we see the unveiled face of the living God. God’s glory is beheld in Jesus Christ who is the instrument of our election, our adoption as daughters and sons of God, our redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our sins, and the cause of our everlasting inheritance of glory (Ephesians). In order to formulate an ethics that is authentically Christian, an ecclesiology and sacramental theology that are christological and pneumatological, a spirituality that is not generic but is shaped by the Spirit of God, Spirit of Christ, we must adhere to the form of God’s self-revelation, God’s concrete existence as Christ and Spirit. The purpose of the discipline of theology is to contemplate and serve that economy, to throw light on it if possible, so that we may behold the glory of God, doxa theou, ever more acutely.[1]

For LaCugna, the doctrine of the trinity is a way of contemplating the mystery of God and of ourselves, a heuristic framework for correct thought about God and ourselves in relation to God.[2] All correct thought about God begins here, with what God has actually done in the economy of salvation in Christ and through the Spirit. Here we may know the God who comes to us.

At the heart of all reality, including the household of God, is the personal God whose being God for Us by Catherine Mowry LaCugnais communion, the God who exists toward and for another. The reign of God, the household of God exists where this form of life—exemplified by Jesus—is evident and practised. Jesus is both the exemplar and the criterion of the reign of God, both in his life and in his teaching. According to LaCugna, Christian orthopraxis must correspond to what we believe to be true about God, and what is true about God is known via his activity in the economy of salvation.[3]

The divine archē, the divine origin and rule, is of great concern for LaCugna, who insists that the “monarchy” of God refers to the trinity rather than simply to the Father alone. God’s monarchy is “relational, personal and shared,” a rule of “personhood, love and communion.”[4] LaCugna resists the substantialist ontologies that have often characterised Christian reflection on the being of God. God is not a divine “substance,” but three persons. She argues that the Cappadocians understood the trinity such that “hypostasis (person) was predicated as prior to and constitutive of ousia (nature).”[5] This establishes the ontological priority of personhood over nature, and so provides the ontological ground of relation and communion.

LaCugna suggests that the doctrine of the trinity elaborated by the Cappadocians “dared the Christian imagination” to think of God differently, and so to relinquish all forms of domination and hierarchy.[6] This, perhaps, takes us to the very heart of LaCugna’s project: to stir and renew the Christian imagination in ways shaped by the triune God as revealed in the economy of salvation. That is, to imagine a church and a society grounded in values of communion, inclusion, relationship, personhood, equality, mutuality and generous self-giving service. “This is the lofty vocation of the members of the church of Jesus Christ, to be stewards (oikonomoi) of God’s economy, to serve others (diakonia), to preach the message of the reign of God (kerygma), to promote communion (koinonia).”[7]

Living trinitarian faith means living God’s life: living from and for God, from and for others. Living trinitarian faith means living as Jesus Christ lived, in persona Christi: preaching the gospel; relying totally on God; offering healing and reconciliation; rejecting laws, customs, conventions that place persons beneath rules; resisting temptation; praying constantly; eating with modern-day lepers and other outcasts; embracing the enemy and the sinner; dying for the sake of the gospel if it is God’s will. Living trinitarian faith means living according to the power and presence of the Holy Spirit: training the eyes of the heart on God’s face and name proclaimed before us in the economy; responding to God in faith, hope and love; eventually becoming unrestrictedly united with God. Living trinitarian faith means living together in harmony and communion with every other creature in the common household of God, “doing all things to the praise and glory of God.” Living trinitarian faith means adhering to the gospel of liberation from sin and fractured relationship: liberation from everything that misleads us into false worship, from everything that promotes unnatural, nonrelational personhood, from everything that displaces us to an exclusive household, from everything that deceives us into believing self-aggrandizing archisms.[8]

Why do I suspect that LaCugna’s work will not become a “classic”? Although I affirm her approach to the trinity in general terms, and appreciate her insights into the implications of trinitarian doctrine for practical Christian faith and life, I find that I cannot follow her in collapsing the immanent trinity into the economic trinity. I prefer to follow Barth here, and the tradition more generally, than Rahner or Moltmann. It is certainly the case that we know the immanent trinity only by means of God’s self-revelation in the economy, and that what we know of God via the divine self-revelation is true and faithful knowledge. Nevertheless, God is more than has been revealed though not other than what has been revealed. Further, if I understand LaCugna correctly—and I grant the point that I may not—her construal of the trinity makes God dependent on the creation for God’s own being and is thus a panentheistic doctrine of God that compromises both the divine sovereignty and the grace of creation and redemption. The tradition does not make this leap, and I suspect that future orthodoxy will not either. God, fully God within the divine triune being prior to and without the creature, turned toward that which is not God in creation and redemption graciously welcoming and including the creature in the divine life. Barth’s insistence on the immanent trinity retains this emphasis.

[1] LaCugna, God for Us, 378.

[2] Ibid., 379.

[3] Ibid., 383.

[4] Ibid., 390, 91.

[5] Ibid., 389.

[6] Ibid.

[7] Ibid., 401.

[8] Ibid., 400-01.

New Volume on the Doctrine of God

Books, Theology, , , ,

Sonderegger_Katherine_photo2014I first came across Kate Sonderegger because she is a Barth scholar. Her early work was on Barth and the Jews, and she has written a number of Barth essays in various volumes. She is another of a growing number of prominent female theologians, one who has just published the first volume of a projected series on systematic theology. Her first volume is on the doctrine of God and here it appears she is establishing her credentials as an independent thinker, certainly breaking with the path blazed by Barth and followed by so many others in the twentieth-century. Sonderegger’s Doctrine of God begins not with the trinity but with the one God and then proceeds with a discussion of the classic attributes of this one God: God’s omnipresence, omnipotence and omniscience. Michael Allen has conducted an interview with Kate about her new volume on the doctrine of God. (And part 2 of the interview also arrived today…)

I remember as an undergraduate writing an essay on the trinity in Barth and Moltmann, and coming down on the side of Barth who starts with the one God. Moltmann criticised Barth for this, but my impression was that Barth had the better of it. The biblical witness testifies to the unity of God and only then proceeds to discuss his triunity. Moltmann wanted to start with the triunity of God but in my estimation never quite made it back to establishing the divine unity.

The publisher’s blurb reads:

The mystery of Almighty God is most properly an explication of the oneness of God, tying the faith of the church to the bedrock of Israel’s confession of the LORD of the covenant, the LORD of our Lord Jesus Christ. The doctrine of divine attributes, then, is set out as a reflection on Holy Scripture: the One God as omnipresent, omnipotent, and omniscient, and all these as expressions of the Love who is God. Systematic theology must make bold claims about its knowledge and service of this One LORD: the Invisible God must be seen and known in the visible. In this way, God and God’s relation to creation are distinguished—but not separated—from Christology, the doctrine of perfections from redemption. The LORD God will be seen as compatible with creatures, and the divine perfections express formally distinct and unique relations to the world.

This systematic theology, then, begins from the treatise De Deo Uno and develops the dogma of the Trinity as an expression of divine unicity, on which will depend creation, Christology, and ecclesiology. In the end, the transcendent beauty who is God can be known only in worship and praise.

Barth, On Growing Old

Theology,

karl-barth-amsterdam-1948A student recently asked me in well-chosen words, “What will it all be like when, if I may put it that way, you are no longer there?” He was quite right to remind me of this possibility. “Fast falls the eventide” is only too true of me. The shadows of our day are growing longer … But because they are cast by the light which shines before us, we cannot and must not look back on them, but must look forward to the great light before us.

(In Busch, Karl Barth, 407).

2015 Evangelical History Association Conference

Culture, , , ,

EHA Conference Picture

 

On August 8th I had the privilege of attending this one-day Conference in Sydney. I happened to be in Sydney for another meeting on the Friday, so I changed my flight, stayed over, and was glad I did. There were about 70 people there all up, and I have never seen so many historians gathered in one place. As a theologian, I felt like the odd-one -out; my friend, Peter Elliott, says he usually feels like that at a theological conference, but felt right at home at this one! Go to the EHA Facebook page to see some photos.

The keynote address for the conference was delivered by renowned historian David Bebbington who spoke on the relation of evangelicalism and secularism, comparing developments in the United Kingdom and the United States. Of particular note were the differences between the two nations with respect to fundamentalism in the early twentieth-century, and the sheer numbers of evangelicals in the American context. I would say that Australia has more similarities with the British than the American experience, though that may be changing – or not. It may be that American evangelicals will face the challenges that have long faced their British and Australian cousins in a more secular, less churched society.

There were also some two dozen papers given in the elective sessions. The Conference theme was Christianity & Crisis, which allowed for a huge variety of topics, many to do with Australian church history. Peter Elliott from Perth Bible College gave a great paper on Katherine Chidley’s separatism in seventeenth-century England, while Malcolm Prentis from Australian Catholic University gave a fascinating paper on the various characters involved in a very public “Fundamentalist vs. Modernists” dispute in Geraldton in 1929. The paper was of particular interest to me because my father was born in Geraldton in 1929, and Monica and I lived in the Presbyterian manse there for a period of time when we lived in Geraldton.

David Bebbington at the lecturn
David Bebbington at the lectern

My own paper was on Barth’s treatise Theological Existence Today written in twenty-four hours from June 24, 1933, the day the new German government intervened in Protestant church affairs, in their attempt to bring the church under the direct control of the Nazi party. Barth’s treatise was a clarion call for the independence of the church, and more importantly, for the church to be faithful to its own life and calling under the headship of Jesus Christ. For Barth, the battle was not against the so-called “German Christians” but for them. The battle was not against the Nazis or the government either. Rather, it was a battle for the Word of God, for the faithfulness of the church in a time of cultural crisis, and for the free and faithful proclamation of the gospel. Barth called for the church to be “the church under the cross.” I think the paper was reasonably well received. It seemed that way.

The Conference finally ended with a meal together in a local restaurant. That, too, was a special time, and I enjoyed getting to know a number of the participants in the conference a little better. There are very few positions for full time church historians in Australia, and yet there were many, many very talented and knowledgeable people at the Conference. I hope that the study of church history might have a renaissance of sorts in this country in years to come. We tend to forget how much the present is deeply connected to what has been, and indeed, how much the past is still alive here and now. William Faulkner reputedly said, “The past is not dead. The past is not even past.” Without a knowledge of church history Christians engage their present context with eyes half-closed. And that’s a great shame.

ANZATS Day 2

Theology, , , ,

AngelsAnother good day at the Conference, and an easier day for me since I did not have to present a paper. A highlight of the day for me were the many conversations with new friends and old from all around the country. This is one of the main reasons for attending conferences, in my estimation. This kind of formal and informal interaction is enriching and fun, even for an introvert like myself!

Scott Stephens’ second lecture was around themes of political representation in democracy, the modern mind, and popular press. It was not as coherent a presentation as yesterday’s lecture (in my view), and I found it somewhat difficult to follow. Scott departed from his published schedule and put several somewhat diverse elements together. I should note that several other folk afterwards said they appreciated it very much. A take home point for me included an assessment of modern autonomous freedom as freedom from our responsibilities in community and for the common good.

Other papers today included a well-written and interesting exploration of Barth’s theology of angels by Mark Lindsay from the University of Divinity. Mark identified an enigma in Barth’s doctrine whereby he seems to insist that angels are involved in the mediation of revelation – something absolutely novel in Barth’s theology, and worthy of further investigation.

Christy Capper, a doctoral student from University of Divinity, explored the concept of an authentic life, showing that there are different levels of authenticity, and that sometimes, what appears as authenticity is not, and that authenticity is not simply “self-expression” or “being true to one’s self,” but indeed, true authenticity may mean denying what one wants or would prefer, because genuine authenticity involves living toward something greater than the self.

Myk Habets from Carey Baptist College in Auckland presented an attempt at a “theotic” ethics, in which he sought to incorporate four major approaches to ethical reflection (deontological, teleological, virtue and ontological) with a trinitarian account of the good life. I liked his approach and think it worthy of further reflection. The end of ethics is the glorification of the saints in communion with God the Father, through the Son and in the Holy Spirit.

Vicki Lorrimar from Vose, and now a doctoral candidate at Oxford, presented an excellent study of Stanley Hauerwas’s christology. Hauerwas has been severely criticised by Healy as having an insufficient christology and a Pelagian or almost Pelagian account of salvation. Lorrimar demonstrated that Hauerwas views Jesus’ death in terms of both a Christus Victor and an exemplarist model of atonement, and that Jesus’ death as victory is decisive for salvation. She acknowledges that Hauerwas is not a systematician, but insists that he should not be held to account for what he does not say. Rather, what he does say is not incompatible with a more complete account of salvation, christology, etc.

Finally, Robert Tilley from the Catholic Institute of Sydney, brought a very forceful lecture exploring the philosophical connections between capitalism and neo-liberalism, arguing (I think) that the neo-liberal self conforms to the logic of the market. He identified abortion as a critical issue for both systems and noted that the many modern critiques of capitalism fail at precisely this point, where the freedom of the self and the freedom of the market seem to intersect. He insists that any movement of resistance to late-modern capitalism must also be resolutely pro-life. This, too, was a very interesting argument, beyond the limits of my all-too-scant philosophical knowledge. I suspect, however, from the certainty of the presentation that the case may not be quite as certain as it was presented.

“The Humanity of God”

Theology, , , ,

God-and-AdamThis lecture, delivered by Karl Barth on September 25, 1956 at a Swiss Reformed Ministers Association meeting, is the second lecture in a little collection of three lectures bearing the same name. Barth begins the lecture with an opening statement that defines what he means by this intriguing and provocative title:

The humanity of God! Rightly understood that is bound to mean God’s relation to and turning toward man. It signifies the God who speaks with man in promise and command. It represents God’s existence, intercession, and activity for man, the intercourse God holds with him, and the free grace in which He wills to be and is nothing other than the God of man (Barth, The Humanity of God, 37).

That is, Barth’s ascription of humanity to God is a metaphor intended to emphasise the utter grace of God in God’s relation towards humanity. Barth is not saying that God is actually “human,” as though he were humanity writ large, or as though he were actually human with no remainder.

The introduction and first section of the lecture function as a kind of “retraction,” or more accurately, a correction. Barth recalls the fundamental shift, the 180o change of theological direction whereby forty years earlier he and his companions repudiated the major features of nineteenth-century theology and struck out on a new course. What they sought was a mighty reaffirmation of God’s deity, the “godness” of God over against what they understood as the anthropocentric theology of their forebears. Now Barth confesses, “We were wrong exactly where we were right” (44). It is not that Barth wants to lose this emphasis on divine sovereignty—far from it! But in and of itself, it is insufficient for it does not convey with necessary precision the full truth of who God is:

See the moon in yonder sky?
’Tis only half that meets the eye.

The fulsome emphasis on God’s transcendent deity meant that God’s “humanity” was left undeveloped. Barth still wants to assert the godness of God, though now with an emphasis also on God’s humanity.

The second section of the lecture then insists that the humanity of God is seen and known only in the place where God—in his deity—has given himself to be known; that is, in Jesus Christ. There is no abstract God just as there is no abstract humanity: here, in Christ, both true deity and true humanity are revealed. Nevertheless, Barth resolutely maintains the ordering of God’s deity vis-à-vis his humanity, but just as resolutely insists on his real, actual and genuine humanity. All this comes together in what I call a “purple passage”:

In Jesus Christ there is no isolation of man from God or of God from man. Rather, in him we encounter the history, the dialogue, in which God and man meet together and are together, the reality of the covenant mutually contracted, preserved, and fulfilled by them. Jesus Christ is in his one person, as true God, man’s loyal partner, and as true man, God’s. He is the Lord humbled for communion with man and likewise the Servant exalted to communion with God. He is the Word spoken from the loftiest, most luminous transcendence and likewise the Word heard in the deepest, darkest immanence. He is both, without their being confused but also without their being divided; He is wholly one and wholly the other. Thus in this oneness Jesus Christ is the Mediator, the Reconciler, between God and man. Thus he comes forward to man on behalf of God calling for and awakening faith, love, and hope, and to God on behalf of man, representing man, making satisfaction and interceding. Thus he attests and guarantees to man God’s free grace and at the same time attests and guarantees to God man’s free gratitude.  Thus he establishes in his person the justice of God vis-à-vis man and also the justice of man before God. Thus he is in his person the covenant in its fullness, the Kingdom of heaven which is at hand, in which God speaks and man hears, God gives and man receives, God commands and man obeys, God’s glory shines in the heights and thence into the depths, and peace on earth comes to pass among men in whom he is well pleased. Moreover, exactly in this way Jesus Christ, as this Mediator and Reconciler between God and man, is also the Revealer of them both. We do not need to engage in a free-ranging investigation to seek out and construct who and what God truly is, and who and what man truly is, but only to read the truth about both where it resides, namely, in the fullness of their togetherness, their covenant which proclaims itself in Jesus Christ. …

Beyond doubt God’s deity is the first and fundamental fact that strikes us when we look at the existence of Jesus Christ as attested in the Holy Scripture. … In the existence of Jesus Christ, the fact that God speaks, gives, orders, comes absolutely first—that man hears, receives, obeys, can and must only follow this first act. In Jesus Christ man’s freedom is wholly enclosed in the freedom of God (46-48).

God does not exist in majestic isolation in and for himself, utterly free from all that is not God. God’s freedom is freedom to love (48). God is free not only to be God, mighty, majestic and exalted but also lowly, a servant, human. The mystery of God includes God’s determination not to be without humanity, but with them; not to be against humanity, but for them. God determines to love us, to be our God, our Lord, our Preserver and Saviour, and as such, God is human (50-51). “His free affirmation of man, his free concern for him, his free substitution for him—this is God’s humanity” (51).

The final section of the lecture develops some implications of the humanity of God, including:

  1. A real distinction is bestowed on every human person, entirely on the basis of grace. Every person is loved of God who is their father. Their humanity is God’s gift, and so must issue in the practical acknowledgement of every person’s human rights and dignity (53).
  2. Theology finds its focus and message in the humanity of God, for theology is determined by its object. Theology is not about God in himself, nor human existence in and of itself, but about the “history, dialogue and communion” of God with humanity and humanity with God—and in this order.
  3. Because the covenant is “history, dialogue and communion” theology also finds its character and form: that is, theology exists as prayer and proclamation, as responsive address to God, and as the address of the great news of God’s love to all others.
  4. The message of the church is the joyful, positive announcement of God’s affirmation of humanity. Certainly God’s No is inevitable, but it has been borne by Jesus Christ. Barth refuses to deny or confirm the idea of universalism, but trenchantly insists that “this much is certain, that we have no theological right to set any sort of limits to the loving-kindness of God which has appeared in Jesus Christ” (62).
  5. Finally, God’s turn toward humanity calls forth and awakens a company of people who respond to God in worship, praise and service—the church.

We should be ashamed of Jesus Christ himself, were we willing to be ashamed of the church. What Jesus Christ is for God and for us, on earth and in time, he is as Lord of this community, as King of this people, as Head of this body and of all its members. … We believe the church as the place where the crown of humanity, namely, man’s fellow-humanity, may become visible in Christocratic brotherhood. Moreover, we believe it as the place where God’s glory wills to dwell upon earth, that is, where humanity—the humanity of God—wills to assume tangible form in time and here upon earth. Here we recognize the humanity of God. Here we delight in it. Here we celebrate and witness to it. Here we glory in the Immanuel… (64-65).

On Teaching and Learning Theology

Theology,

karl-barth in studyIn the semester which has just finished, my class read through much of the first book of Calvin’s Institutes, some enjoying the experience, others bemoaning it. Agree with, or disagree, it is instructive and salutary to engage with the best theological minds of previous generations as we learn to do theology for ourselves. I note that Karl Barth gave the following rationale for reading theological classics:

The fact that I devote six of the ten hours a week that I usually teach to these exercises stems from the growing conviction that what can be communicated to the student in this form is probably the most immediately fruitful part of academic instruction. The student should be learning, by means of important texts, to read: at first to become aware, quietly and completely, of the content of these texts, to understand what [they have] read in its historical context, and finally to adopt a critical attitude towards it. For this [they need] the stimulation, the guidance and the correction which is given … by a form of collaboration, in which on the one hand [they are] addressed and treated by the teacher as a regular fellow-researcher, and on the other [they have] to consider openly and carefully the attempts of [their] fellow students … It is a matter of preparing the student for teaching by [their] active participation in research. (Barth, cited in Busch, Karl Barth, 352-353.)

Next semester, in my Introduction to Systematic Theology class we will be reading Athanasius’ On the Incarnation of the Word, Luther’s The Freedom of the Christian, Barth’s Strange New World in the Bible, and LaCugna’s Living Trinitarian Faith. I hope it whets the students’ appetite for reading theological classics…

Karl Barth, “The Gift of Freedom” Pt. 2

Books, Theology, , ,

hercules-at-the-crossroads-4226Last week I posted the first part of this summary/reflection on Barth’s essay here.

Christian freedom—and therefore according to Barth, human freedom—is not simply the human capacity to choose between alternatives, nor a vision of the autonomous person standing aloof from all other circumstances, powers and persons. True freedom is not freedom from, but freedom for. It is not realised in solitary detachment from others, but only in encounter and communion with them. It is not the power to assert one’s own desire and will, and so to preserve, justify and therefore save oneself. Rather, true freedom and thus true humanity consists in joyful obedience and thankful response to God.

Human freedom is freedom only within the limitations of God’s own freedom. … It awakens the receiver to true selfhood and new life. It is a gift from God, from the source of all goodness … Through this gift man who was irretrievably separated and alienated from God is called into discipleship. This is why freedom is joy! … Freedom is the joy whereby man acknowledges and confesses this divine election by willing, deciding, and determining himself to be the echo and mirror of the divine act.[1]

Freedom, for Barth, is not autonomy, but precisely its opposite: dependence upon God. It consists not in isolation from God but in being bound to God, in relation with God, and in correspondence to the divine way of being revealed in Jesus Christ. In this relation we are set free to be and become truly human: God’s creature, God’s partner, God’s child. These three categories of human being and freedom correspond to God’s relation to humanity as creator, reconciler and redeemer. As God’s creature we are freed to be truly human, living in dependence upon the gracious God, and in right relation with others. As God’s partner we are freed to echo God’s Yes and God’s No in our own decision and act, and so live a life of faith and love as a pilgrim and witness to the reality of God and the freedom God gives. As God’s child we are freed to live in this fallen and darkened world according to hope in the as yet unseen future which will be ours through God’s promise. On the basis of this promise we are freed to live toward this future, to pray, to work and ultimately to die. “A Christian is one who makes use of this freedom to pray and to live in the hope of the end which will be the revelation of the beginning.”[2] Freedom, in Barth’s vision, is the gift from God by which unfree and enslaved humanity is set free for the service of thankful obedience, for participation in the causa Dei, for the joy and hope of being God’s child both here and hereafter.

In the third section of the lecture Barth addresses the nature of “evangelical ethics.” A person does the good when she obeys the divine command implicit in the gift of freedom, and with which she is confronted in every new moment. The divine command is the immediate encounter between God and the human agent. God does not deal with us through the intermediary of a rule, a principle, a natural law, reason, conscience, or even the Bible. Certainly ethical reflection, pastoral exhortation, brotherly admonition, study and doctrine are all appropriate as preliminary words, but none of these in and of themselves constitute the divine command. The final word belongs to God in the moment of encounter with the free human agent. Ethics, therefore, may search for and point toward the will of God as it has been revealed and known in different times, places and circumstances. Its task, however, can never be to mediate the divine command, to take the place of God, of human freedom, of the encounter between the two; that is, it can never become a law.

Ethics according to our assumptions can only be evangelical ethics. The question of good and evil is never answered by man’s pointing to the authoritative Word of God in terms of a set of rules. It is never discovered by man or imposed on the self and others as a code of good and evil actions, a sort of yardstick of what is good and evil. Holy Scripture defies being forced into a set of rules; it is a mistake to use it as such. The ethicist cannot take the place either of the free God or of the free man, even less of both together.[3]

The task of ethics, therefore, is to remind us of and direct us to our responsibility before God. It emphasises the reality and conditioning of human existence. It may offer provisional conclusions and conditional imperatives but will leave the pronouncement of unconditional imperatives to God.[4]

Ethics is reflection upon what man is required to do in and with the gift of freedom. The ethicist should not want to attempt too little either. He must want to realize his calling and his talents. It is not enough to insist that human life is to be lived under the divine imperative. Ethical reflection must go further and ask the question to what extent this is so. Neither the freedom of God’s commandment nor that of man’s obedience is an empty form. Human action takes place at the point of contact between these two spheres of freedom. Each of these is characterised by its own content, tone, and extent. Ethical reflection has to concentrate upon these. It has to begin with the recognition that the free God is the free man’s Lord, Creator, Reconciler, and Redeemer, and that free man is God’s creature, partner, and child. This insight will be gained at the very source of Christian thinking, in Holy Scripture, where ethical reflection will also renew, sharpen, and correct its findings in continuous searching. In addition, ethical reflection may and must consult the Christian community in its past and present history. It must do this in order to be admonished, nourished, enriched, perhaps also stirred and warned, by the use which the fathers and brethren made and still are making of Christian freedom.

Therefore, ethics is not without signposts in its attempt to point to God’s authoritative word of judgment. If it is based on the knowledge of God and of man, it will receive its contour. It will not point to a vacuum, but to the true God, the real man, and the real encounter between them. The ethical quest is and remains a quest and yet is not totally devoid of fulfilment. Indirect as it may be, the quest is a witness to God’s concrete word. Ethical reflection may and must be genuine search and genuine doctrine, genuine because true ethics does not deprive God, its object, of His due power and glory. It leaves the uttering of the essential and final word to God Himself. But it does not shrink away from the preliminary words which are necessary to focus man’s wandering thoughts on the one center where he, himself free, shall hear the word of the free God, the commandment addressed to him, the judgment falling upon him, and the promise waiting for him.[5]

This long citation is very important in understanding Barth’s view of the divine command. The command is not simply equated with the commands of Scripture. Further, many commentators on Barth’s ethics have worried about the possibility of an immediate command coming to each person in each instance of their lives. They worry that human ethical reason is evacuated of any significance, that Barth’s concept is simply irrational, and that actual people are most unlikely to hear such a command in the to-and-froing of their daily existence. This passage makes it clear, however, that the divine command comes not as a bolt out of the blue, nor is it so alien to us as to be unrecognisable. Christian ethics may prepare for the command through reflection on the particular cases and circumstances confronting us; through reflection on Scripture and history, through pastoral exhortation, study, brotherly admonition, etc. But ultimately, ethical existence is the free response the person makes to God in the moment of encounter.

Barth appends a final section to his essay which functions as a sort of illustration or application of his view of freedom specifically with reference to the work of theology. Nevertheless, the categories of thought used here serve to illustrate how the work of ethics also proceeds. He lays out his thought in five points;

  1. Begin at the beginning, that is, in prayer, liturgy and devotion as a response to God’s prior action, especially his revelation in Christ and culminating in the resurrection;
  2. Begin too with Scripture where this revelation is witnessed and heard;
  3. Be free to draw on other frameworks of understanding, other approaches to the issues at hand;
  4. Reflect in dialogue with the church and for the church, drawing in peers, confessions, the fathers, governing authorities, etc.;
  5. Reflect in joyful, critical and free dialogue with other contemporaries, even and especially those with whom you disagree.

When Barth does ethics, he refuses to tell us what to do. Rather he describes in thoroughly theological terms, the moral field in which our existence takes place, and in which we are called to act. The great and central reality of this field is God himself. In him we live and move and have our being (Acts 17:28). In every moment of our lives we are confronted by a reality from beyond ourselves, by which we are addressed, and to whom we are responsible. This “whom” has reached out to us in Jesus Christ and called us to himself. This is evangelical ethics.

*****

[1] Ibid., 78-79.

[2] Ibid., 83.

[3] Ibid., 85, original emphasis.

[4] Ibid., 86.

[5] Ibid., 87-88.

The Essential Seminary Reading List

Books, , , ,

woman reading book in front of fire with cat loomingThis one for the bibliophiles amongst us…

Books and Culture blog has recently posted two somewhat interesting posts on books (a hardly surprising topic). First, The Essential Seminary Reading List. I like the opening story as much as the book suggestions, none of which I have actually read. The second post, 20 Books That Are Changing Ministry, surveys some popular evangelical authors for their suggestions. I have read some of these.

Both lists may be faulted, however, for neither includes that most excellent book by moi!

It got me thinking, however, about what I would recommend as essential reading for theological students (note the emphasis here! I am not making these suggestions for those majoring in biblical studies or practical theology, although they too would benefit from these suggestions, I think). Such lists are difficult to make since one can only recommend what one has read, and often what we have read is only a very narrow slice of what is available. My recommendations, therefore, are sometimes more in terms of categories than titles, though I do append a title for each category.

            What books have you found best? Which have informed, challenged, shaped             your life and thought? Leave a comment and let us know!

  1. A large one-volume systematic theology in order to get a comprehensive overview of the field of systematic theology. There are many choices here, but I will recommend either Erickson’s Christian Theology or Grenz’s Theology for the Community of God. Both are Evangelical-Baptist, both quite comprehensive, both widely regarded, both biblically oriented and philosophically aware. Erickson is a more conservative Evangelical, while Grenz was more progressive.
  2. Karl Barth, Evangelical Theology: An Introduction. How could I not include at least one volume by Barth? This was Barth’s “swan-song,” his final series of lectures and concern what it means to actually do theology and more particularly, what it means to be a theologian. The book is accessible and profound, and serves as a great introduction to this modern church father.
  3. Roger Olson, The Story of Christian Theology. Not only is it necessary to gain an overview of the content of the Christian faith, it is also necessary and helpful to gain an understanding of the progress and development of Christian theology through history. Olson provides a very readable narrative which leads the reader through “twenty centuries of tradition and reform.”
  4. A good history of the church. Not only is it necessary to get an overview of the history of theology, but church history itself, for theology never occurs in a vacuum. Rather, it is informed and shaped by the culture and events of the times in which it emerges. Besides, church history is both fun and infuriating, filled with incredible and inspiring characters as well as tragic events, decisions and moments. At Vose, we use Justo González, The Story of Christianity, Vols. 1 & 2, for an engaging and accessible introduction to the topic.
  5. A substantial volume on Christian ethics, especially one dealing with the task of moving from Scripture to ethics. The Christian faith is not simply about knowing or believing: it must be expressed in life. Stassen & Gushee’s Kingdom Ethics or Richard Hays’ The Moral Vision of the New Testament are both an excellent place to start. For those wanting to explore Old Testament ethics, see Chris Wright’s Old Testament Ethics for the People of God. Other, more systematic rather than biblical treatments, can be found in Grenz, The Moral Quest, Thielicke, Theological Ethics Vol. 1, or Ramsay, Basic Christian Ethics.
  6. At least one “classic” from the tradition: Athanasius’ On the Incarnation of the Word, or Augustine’s Confessions, Luther’s The Freedom of the Christian, Calvin’s Institutes of the Christian Religion, Wesley’s Forty Four Sermons, etc.

Well, that’s a start. These are essentials. Other books that have meant much to me include Barth’s Church Dogmatics – those volumes, at least, which I have read. Hauerwas’ A Community of Character and Hannah’s Child; Eugene Peterson’s Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places; Lois Barrett et al., Treasure in Clay Jars: Patterns in Missional Faithfulness; George Ladd, A Theology of the New Testament; and so the list goes on…