The next sub-section - the third of four discussing the election of the community - has the title The promise of God heard and believed. In terms of format, it is again mostly taken up with a small print exegesis of a chunk of Romans 9 and 10.
The basic point that Barth wants to make is clear. The community, which is Israel and the Church bound together by their common (if unacknowledged, on the one hand) relationship to Jesus Christ, is together "the environment of the elected man Jesus of Nazareth" (233). But it is this in a differentiated way. The particular service for which the Israelite form of the community is elected is "the hearing, the reception and the acceptance of the divine promise" (233). If Israel comes to life in the Church, it will be through the acceptance of the promise given to it, and its service will continue to be to bind the church to the word Israel has received. But even if Israel resists its election, it still bears witness to the given-ness of God's word. "It is for just this reason that the Israelite (Jewish) regard for sentence, word and letter must continue in the Church" (234). The object of the Church's faith is the word of God delivered to Israel, and therefore for the church to become anti- or even a-semitic implies that the object of its faith is, or soon will be, lost. The Church needs Israel.
The particular service of the Church, elected for this from amongst Jews and Gentiles, is "that it secures attention for the promise heard by putting faith in it" (237). The promise creates faith in itself, by the power of the resurrection of Christ from the dead, and therefore wherever the promise is believed, there is the Church. As we have already seen, this promise was not only heard in Israel, but was by a minority really believed, and so Barth sees the Church pre-existing in Israel. For Barth, the existence of these few sheds light on the purpose of Israel's election and reveals its end and purpose - an end and purpose which is shown dramatically in the gathering in of the Church of Jews and Gentiles. Nevertheless, that Church still needs the service of Israel; it still needs to be pointed back again and again to the actual word received from God, by which its faith lives.
The exegetical portion, which makes up the bulk of the sub-section, covers Romans 9:30-10:21. Here we see that Gentiles who had not sought God have found him, whilst Israel with all its zeal for righteousness has not attained it. This highlights that everything depends on God's mercy and not human running or willing: "The perfection of human running and willing under the very best conditions given man by God Himself, under the sign of a unique presupposition, preparation and pre-history of his salvation, proves only that God's mercy alone can bring and keep together God and man, and thus make man participate in God's salvation" (242). After all, Israel has heard God's word - Paul is at pains to make this clear - and in the apostolate has heard the proclamation of the fulfilled promise in the resurrection of Christ. Barth thinks that Paul himself is, implicitly, the fulfilment of the prophecies he cites - not as a Jewish Christian per se, but specifically as an apostle. His ministry brings it about that the promise is preached, not only as promise, but as fulfilled promise. That Israel will not believe is guilt to them, but does not negate their election. Rather, "the meaning of [Israel's] election is that in the very act of becoming guilty towards God it must genuinely magnify His faithfulness" (259).
Monday, October 31, 2016
Thursday, October 27, 2016
On failing to be a charismatic
There's an interesting article over at Think about the relationship between theology and healing. Although it doesn't directly address the issue of whether and to what extent we should expect healing today, it still pokes me in a sensitive place: my failure to be a charismatic.
It's really not through want of trying. My background is hard cessationist: canon complete, no more apostles, therefore no more gifts or miracles. Full stop. For a variety of reasons, I've moved away from that position. I've come to think that the "therefore" doesn't really work. For a variety of reasons, including thinking more about the doctrine of Scripture and pondering the role which miracles and spiritual gifts seem to play in the NT churches, I couldn't sustain it. And philosophically, I began to suspect that cessationism had more in common with the Enlightenment than its Reformed advocates would have liked to admit. It's been a while since I've been a cessationist - in principle, anyway.
I remember chatting to a pastor who described himself as a failed cessationist. He was inclined toward cessationism, it fit his view of God and church and revelation, he was alarmed by the clear excesses and often dubious theology of those elements of the charismatic movement with which he came into contact. But at the same time, he couldn't make the Biblical evidence fit. Whilst his experience pushed him towards cessationism, his reading of the Bible prevented him from landing there.
In some ways I feel like the opposite. Theologically and philosophically I feel inclined towards the charismatic position. In common with all evangelicals, I believe that God can do the miraculous today. Unlike cessationists, I can see no reason why - given that he has done in the past, which is accepted by all sides - he would not do so today. Particularly when it comes to healing, my understanding of the gospel pushes me to think that healing ministry ought to be a regular part of church life. But my experience holds me back. I have been in church all my life, but have heard no clear and credible accounts of miraculous healing. None at all. Maybe I'm setting the standard of credibility too high, but it seems to me that lots of people have 'friend of a friend' stories, and not many people even claim to have first hand experience of this sort of thing. In terms of my own experience, I want to be 'open' to the miraculous, but to be honest my (very limited) experience of being in charismatic churches has been a massive turn off. So, my theology pushes me towards the charismatic position, but my experience prevents me from landing there.
And that's a frustration.
It's really not through want of trying. My background is hard cessationist: canon complete, no more apostles, therefore no more gifts or miracles. Full stop. For a variety of reasons, I've moved away from that position. I've come to think that the "therefore" doesn't really work. For a variety of reasons, including thinking more about the doctrine of Scripture and pondering the role which miracles and spiritual gifts seem to play in the NT churches, I couldn't sustain it. And philosophically, I began to suspect that cessationism had more in common with the Enlightenment than its Reformed advocates would have liked to admit. It's been a while since I've been a cessationist - in principle, anyway.
I remember chatting to a pastor who described himself as a failed cessationist. He was inclined toward cessationism, it fit his view of God and church and revelation, he was alarmed by the clear excesses and often dubious theology of those elements of the charismatic movement with which he came into contact. But at the same time, he couldn't make the Biblical evidence fit. Whilst his experience pushed him towards cessationism, his reading of the Bible prevented him from landing there.
In some ways I feel like the opposite. Theologically and philosophically I feel inclined towards the charismatic position. In common with all evangelicals, I believe that God can do the miraculous today. Unlike cessationists, I can see no reason why - given that he has done in the past, which is accepted by all sides - he would not do so today. Particularly when it comes to healing, my understanding of the gospel pushes me to think that healing ministry ought to be a regular part of church life. But my experience holds me back. I have been in church all my life, but have heard no clear and credible accounts of miraculous healing. None at all. Maybe I'm setting the standard of credibility too high, but it seems to me that lots of people have 'friend of a friend' stories, and not many people even claim to have first hand experience of this sort of thing. In terms of my own experience, I want to be 'open' to the miraculous, but to be honest my (very limited) experience of being in charismatic churches has been a massive turn off. So, my theology pushes me towards the charismatic position, but my experience prevents me from landing there.
And that's a frustration.
Monday, October 24, 2016
Reader Response: Church Dogmatics ch VII (7)
This Monday's sub-section is entitled The Judgment and the Mercy of God. It's worth just remembering that we are still in the discussion of the election of the community - that is Israel and the Church, which for Barth make up the one community of Jesus Christ. In this sub-section, he ponders the existence of Israel as the witness to God's judgement and the Church as the witness to his mercy. It's a short sub-section, but it's mostly a 'small font' section - for the uninitiated, when Barth is doing detailed engagement with Scripture or historical theology, he drops into a very small text. It is often in the small text that the real argument of the Dogmatics is hidden, and you skip it at your peril! In terms of approach, I want to summarise Barth's argument in so far as I'm able, and then offer a couple of reflections.
Developing the differentiation between Israel and the Church from the last sub-section, Barth here discusses the particular form of service for which each is determined. It is, after all, for service that the community is elected: "Wherever the community is living, there - in the power and commission of Him who is in its midst - it will at all events exist in the service of this presentation, the presentation of the judgment and mercy of God" (206). In the case of Israel, this determination to service means concretely that it is called to reflect the judgement of God from which man is rescued only by God in Jesus Christ. "If in faith in Jesus Christ Israel is obedient to its election, if it is given to it come to the Church and rise to life again in it", then it will be the particular role of Israel within the Church to be a constant reminder of God's just judgement from which the Church is delivered only by his mercy (206). It is not that Israel in itself knows nothing of God's mercy, but it is that in Israel's history what is means for God to elect humanity for himself: he takes on a rebellious and helpless people, and he takes on himself the judgement which this people deserves. However, even Israel's disobedience to its election cannot alter the fact that it is determined for this service. "Israel refuses to join in the confession of the Church, refuses to enter upon its service in the one elected community of God" (208), and yet "Israel's unbelief cannot in any way alter the fact that... it is the people of its arrived and crucified Messiah" (208). Even Israel outside the Church bears unwilling witness to God's judgement - but it is nonetheless the judgement that forms "the shadow of the cross of Jesus Christ" (209); Israel cannot, even in their unbelief, undo the fact that the Messiah has borne away the judgement of sinful man, and of Israel itself. Israel cannot undo its election.
The service of the Church, on the other hand, "consists always in the fact that it is the reflection of the mercy in which God turns His glory to man" (210). As called from Jews and Gentiles, the Church knows itself as the community of the risen Lord, and therefore knows the meaning of his death, and knows its own judgement to have been borne away. "If the judgment that has overtaken man (according to Israel's commission) forbids us to seek any refuge except in the mercy of God, even more strictly does the mercy of God laying hold of man (according to the Church's commission) forbid us to fear His judgment without loving Him as Judge, without looking for our justification from Him" (211). On this basis, Barth sees the pre-existence of the Church in Israel during the OT period wherever there were those who were not only elected to serve the witness to God's judgement but who also show in their faith that they were elected to witness to his mercy. Strictly speaking, this light on the OT history of Israel is shed backwards from the one man who is the true Israel - "Israel's future and goal" (213).
This is all backed up with an exegesis of Romans 9:6-29. To summarise very briefly, these verses show that there always was a differentiation between the children of Abraham (e.g. Isaac and Ishmael), and therefore show that for all Paul's grief over the Jewish people he is clear that God has not failed them or deserted his word and promise. In fact, Barth thinks Paul sees the confirmation of Israel's election exactly in this differentiation (216). The Isaac/Ishmael contrast becomes even sharper when Jacob and Esau are introduced in verses 10-13. Jacob is chosen, Esau rejected, but for Barth they are both within 'the community', and within that community "even its rejected members are not forsaken" (217). He cites God's care for Hagar and Ishmael as an example. But the question raised is: to what purpose this rejection? What is Esau for?
The answer is in verses 14 to 29, but it is perhaps most helpful to look at Barth's exegesis backwards. The conclusion is the inclusion of the Gentiles within the community, which Paul sees prefigured in Isaiah and Hosea. That Isaiah and Hosea were without a doubt talking about the restoration of 'rejected' Israel and not the Gentiles underlines the fact that the inclusion of the Gentiles means hope for Israel - if even the Gentiles are not utterly forsaken... The key is the argument in verses 22 to 24. Here Barth perceives, surely correctly, that election and rejection are not laid out as two equal alternatives: rejection is for the sake of election, that God's glory might be seen in showing mercy. Mercy is the end goal - there are not two end goals, mercy and judgement, but judgement is for the purpose of mercy. With that in mind, Barth reads the potter analogy in verses 19-21 as being less about God's power over the clay, and more about God's will of mercy. Since everything springs from the purpose of mercy, who can complain? For Barth, Moses and Pharaoh (see verse 17) are "in the same sphere" (220) - the sphere of God's mercy. The difference between them is that in the case of Moses God's mercy is followed by more, renewed mercy, whereas for Pharaoh that mercy is not renewed. God is free. Nevertheless, even for Pharaoh things are not hopeless; even his determination as the rejected is not without hope.
Is God, then, unjust? (verse 14) Absolutely not! He is self-consistent. He has mercy on whom he will have mercy. "His right consists in the fact that as He freely shows mercy, so He will again show mercy" (219). As he has been, so he will be. In fact, it would be inconsistent with God's revealed character, and therefore not right, if he were to change his mind and start judging on the basis of human action and effort! Rather, God is free in his mercy, and righteous in his judgement. Nobody can complain, because all are those who stand in the sphere of his mercy. If that mercy is not renewed to them, they are nevertheless those who are determined in Christ Jesus, whether to witness to God's judgement or to his grace.
What to make of all this? The great thing about Barth's exegesis and theologising here is that he does deal with Romans 9 as a passage about Israel and the Gentiles, and not as one about the election of individuals per se, as is often done. How the election of individuals fits in is not clear at this stage, but there are a few hundred pages to go yet... One question about the dogmatic section (i.e. the large type section) is whether this isn't just an overly neat sytematisation. I am not sure I find it 100% convincing.
The same could be said of the exegesis. Whilst it certainly could be read this way, isn't it more natural to see Ishmael, Esau, and Pharaoh as genuinely rejected? Is Barth not doing some exegetical 'skating' here - sliding over the bits which seem to count against his big thesis? It seems so to me. I think perhaps the proof will be in how well this system can incorporate the question of the individual, so I'm looking forward to that!
Developing the differentiation between Israel and the Church from the last sub-section, Barth here discusses the particular form of service for which each is determined. It is, after all, for service that the community is elected: "Wherever the community is living, there - in the power and commission of Him who is in its midst - it will at all events exist in the service of this presentation, the presentation of the judgment and mercy of God" (206). In the case of Israel, this determination to service means concretely that it is called to reflect the judgement of God from which man is rescued only by God in Jesus Christ. "If in faith in Jesus Christ Israel is obedient to its election, if it is given to it come to the Church and rise to life again in it", then it will be the particular role of Israel within the Church to be a constant reminder of God's just judgement from which the Church is delivered only by his mercy (206). It is not that Israel in itself knows nothing of God's mercy, but it is that in Israel's history what is means for God to elect humanity for himself: he takes on a rebellious and helpless people, and he takes on himself the judgement which this people deserves. However, even Israel's disobedience to its election cannot alter the fact that it is determined for this service. "Israel refuses to join in the confession of the Church, refuses to enter upon its service in the one elected community of God" (208), and yet "Israel's unbelief cannot in any way alter the fact that... it is the people of its arrived and crucified Messiah" (208). Even Israel outside the Church bears unwilling witness to God's judgement - but it is nonetheless the judgement that forms "the shadow of the cross of Jesus Christ" (209); Israel cannot, even in their unbelief, undo the fact that the Messiah has borne away the judgement of sinful man, and of Israel itself. Israel cannot undo its election.
The service of the Church, on the other hand, "consists always in the fact that it is the reflection of the mercy in which God turns His glory to man" (210). As called from Jews and Gentiles, the Church knows itself as the community of the risen Lord, and therefore knows the meaning of his death, and knows its own judgement to have been borne away. "If the judgment that has overtaken man (according to Israel's commission) forbids us to seek any refuge except in the mercy of God, even more strictly does the mercy of God laying hold of man (according to the Church's commission) forbid us to fear His judgment without loving Him as Judge, without looking for our justification from Him" (211). On this basis, Barth sees the pre-existence of the Church in Israel during the OT period wherever there were those who were not only elected to serve the witness to God's judgement but who also show in their faith that they were elected to witness to his mercy. Strictly speaking, this light on the OT history of Israel is shed backwards from the one man who is the true Israel - "Israel's future and goal" (213).
This is all backed up with an exegesis of Romans 9:6-29. To summarise very briefly, these verses show that there always was a differentiation between the children of Abraham (e.g. Isaac and Ishmael), and therefore show that for all Paul's grief over the Jewish people he is clear that God has not failed them or deserted his word and promise. In fact, Barth thinks Paul sees the confirmation of Israel's election exactly in this differentiation (216). The Isaac/Ishmael contrast becomes even sharper when Jacob and Esau are introduced in verses 10-13. Jacob is chosen, Esau rejected, but for Barth they are both within 'the community', and within that community "even its rejected members are not forsaken" (217). He cites God's care for Hagar and Ishmael as an example. But the question raised is: to what purpose this rejection? What is Esau for?
The answer is in verses 14 to 29, but it is perhaps most helpful to look at Barth's exegesis backwards. The conclusion is the inclusion of the Gentiles within the community, which Paul sees prefigured in Isaiah and Hosea. That Isaiah and Hosea were without a doubt talking about the restoration of 'rejected' Israel and not the Gentiles underlines the fact that the inclusion of the Gentiles means hope for Israel - if even the Gentiles are not utterly forsaken... The key is the argument in verses 22 to 24. Here Barth perceives, surely correctly, that election and rejection are not laid out as two equal alternatives: rejection is for the sake of election, that God's glory might be seen in showing mercy. Mercy is the end goal - there are not two end goals, mercy and judgement, but judgement is for the purpose of mercy. With that in mind, Barth reads the potter analogy in verses 19-21 as being less about God's power over the clay, and more about God's will of mercy. Since everything springs from the purpose of mercy, who can complain? For Barth, Moses and Pharaoh (see verse 17) are "in the same sphere" (220) - the sphere of God's mercy. The difference between them is that in the case of Moses God's mercy is followed by more, renewed mercy, whereas for Pharaoh that mercy is not renewed. God is free. Nevertheless, even for Pharaoh things are not hopeless; even his determination as the rejected is not without hope.
Is God, then, unjust? (verse 14) Absolutely not! He is self-consistent. He has mercy on whom he will have mercy. "His right consists in the fact that as He freely shows mercy, so He will again show mercy" (219). As he has been, so he will be. In fact, it would be inconsistent with God's revealed character, and therefore not right, if he were to change his mind and start judging on the basis of human action and effort! Rather, God is free in his mercy, and righteous in his judgement. Nobody can complain, because all are those who stand in the sphere of his mercy. If that mercy is not renewed to them, they are nevertheless those who are determined in Christ Jesus, whether to witness to God's judgement or to his grace.
What to make of all this? The great thing about Barth's exegesis and theologising here is that he does deal with Romans 9 as a passage about Israel and the Gentiles, and not as one about the election of individuals per se, as is often done. How the election of individuals fits in is not clear at this stage, but there are a few hundred pages to go yet... One question about the dogmatic section (i.e. the large type section) is whether this isn't just an overly neat sytematisation. I am not sure I find it 100% convincing.
The same could be said of the exegesis. Whilst it certainly could be read this way, isn't it more natural to see Ishmael, Esau, and Pharaoh as genuinely rejected? Is Barth not doing some exegetical 'skating' here - sliding over the bits which seem to count against his big thesis? It seems so to me. I think perhaps the proof will be in how well this system can incorporate the question of the individual, so I'm looking forward to that!
Friday, October 21, 2016
Galatians: a hard question
Did you receive the Spirit by works of the law or by hearing with faith?
Paul doesn't seem to think that this is a hard question. He obviously expects the Galatians to be aware at once that the Spirit came upon them as they heard and believed the good news about Jesus. It's foundational to his argument, not only that this was the case in the past, but that it continues to be the case in the present - does he who supplies the Spirit to you and works miracles among you do so by works of the law or by hearing with faith? He clearly expects that the Galatians will be able to give a straightforward and unequivocal answer: the Spirit is communicated to us, and works powerfully amongst us, as we hear and believe the message.
What do we do when the answer to that question no longer seems obvious?
If Paul hasn't massively misjudged the Galatian Christians - if they are in fact able to provide the answers which he expects to these questions - then it becomes baffling that they would be looking to work out their day to day godliness by way of the law. And indeed, Paul seems pretty baffled and perplexed throughout the letter. Obviously they don't see the law keeping which they are considering adopting as contrary to faith, and don't see clearly as Paul does that working out your holiness by the route of law is incompatible with reliance on the Spirit. But at least they know, or should know, that it is the Spirit, received as they've heard and believed the gospel, who has provided the energy of their holiness thus far.
What if we're not even sure of that?
It seems pretty clear that spiritual experience is not an optional extra in the Christian life for Paul. If you can't testify that you received the Spirit when you believed, and that the same Spirit continues to be poured out in your church community as you gather around the gospel with faith, then of course you will start to look around for another way to power the holiness engine. But the engine of genuine godliness only runs on the Holy Spirit. If you pour your own efforts into that fuel tank, whether shaped by the law of Moses or any other scheme, it will break down your Christian life, as surely as filling my diesel car with unleaded will lead to going nowhere fast. It is the Spirit or nothing.
At this point, it's easy to get caught in sort of meta-law. I can't get holy by my own efforts, I need the Spirit - now, what technique or discipline can I follow that will ensure that I experience the Spirit's power? How do I do it? How do I do it? Bang, you're keeping the law, you're holiness engine blows up.
I can only think that the answer is, at least in part, waiting. We have a hope of righteousness - certain, because grounded in Christ, but only very uncertainly worked out in our experience. Wait for it - that active waiting which involves prayer and faith and watching for God's work.
Paul doesn't seem to think that this is a hard question. He obviously expects the Galatians to be aware at once that the Spirit came upon them as they heard and believed the good news about Jesus. It's foundational to his argument, not only that this was the case in the past, but that it continues to be the case in the present - does he who supplies the Spirit to you and works miracles among you do so by works of the law or by hearing with faith? He clearly expects that the Galatians will be able to give a straightforward and unequivocal answer: the Spirit is communicated to us, and works powerfully amongst us, as we hear and believe the message.
What do we do when the answer to that question no longer seems obvious?
If Paul hasn't massively misjudged the Galatian Christians - if they are in fact able to provide the answers which he expects to these questions - then it becomes baffling that they would be looking to work out their day to day godliness by way of the law. And indeed, Paul seems pretty baffled and perplexed throughout the letter. Obviously they don't see the law keeping which they are considering adopting as contrary to faith, and don't see clearly as Paul does that working out your holiness by the route of law is incompatible with reliance on the Spirit. But at least they know, or should know, that it is the Spirit, received as they've heard and believed the gospel, who has provided the energy of their holiness thus far.
What if we're not even sure of that?
It seems pretty clear that spiritual experience is not an optional extra in the Christian life for Paul. If you can't testify that you received the Spirit when you believed, and that the same Spirit continues to be poured out in your church community as you gather around the gospel with faith, then of course you will start to look around for another way to power the holiness engine. But the engine of genuine godliness only runs on the Holy Spirit. If you pour your own efforts into that fuel tank, whether shaped by the law of Moses or any other scheme, it will break down your Christian life, as surely as filling my diesel car with unleaded will lead to going nowhere fast. It is the Spirit or nothing.
At this point, it's easy to get caught in sort of meta-law. I can't get holy by my own efforts, I need the Spirit - now, what technique or discipline can I follow that will ensure that I experience the Spirit's power? How do I do it? How do I do it? Bang, you're keeping the law, you're holiness engine blows up.
I can only think that the answer is, at least in part, waiting. We have a hope of righteousness - certain, because grounded in Christ, but only very uncertainly worked out in our experience. Wait for it - that active waiting which involves prayer and faith and watching for God's work.
Monday, October 17, 2016
Reader Response: Church Dogmatics ch VII (6)
We've made it into the third division (of four) in the chapter, which is to say we've discussed the problem of a correct doctrine of election, and we've talked about the election of Jesus Christ - although this being Barth, we will not be surprised to keep returning to that subject - and we are on to considering the election of the community. This begins with a mercifully short section, entitled Israel and the Church. As a preliminary observation, this was published in 1942, and that is probably significant.
Barth begins by clarifying why this section is here. Scripture does not move from the election of Christ directly to the election of individual human beings in him. It begins with a "mediate and mediating election", the object of which is "men as a fellowship elected by God in Jesus Christ and determined from all eternity for a particular service" (196). Barth uses "the concept of the community because it covers the reality both of Israel and the Church" (196), and he sees the election of this community as mediate because in a sense the mid-point between the election of Christ and the election in him of individuals; and as mediating because the relation between Christ's election and the individual's election is "mediated and conditioned" by the election of the community. Barth sees this mediation as mirroring the existence of Christ - in so far as the community stands over against the world, it reflects the freedom of God's election, and in so far as it serves the world it reflects his love.
Israel and the Church are bound together, then, as the one elect community in Christ, but Israel and the Church reflect the two different aspects of the election of Christ which we have already seen. "Jesus Christ is the crucified Messiah of Israel. As such He is the authentic witness to the judgement that God takes upon Himself by choosing fellowship with man" (198). But he is also "the Risen Lord of the Church. As such he is the authentic witness of the mercy" shown by God in turning man to himself and to his own glory (198). For Barth, Israel is the community which hears the promise, but which "resists its divine election" (198); in thus displaying what humanity is like, "Israel attests the justice of the divine judgement on man borne by God Himself" (198). Israel reveals "the passing of the old man" (198), but in so doing it is also "the secret origin of the Church" in which the "new man becomes true" (199). The Church, as the gathering of Jews and Gentiles together, is the community which recognises and testifies to the divine mercy in Christ - it not only hears the promise, but believes. And yet, for all its newness, it understands its origin as being in Israel, and in its determination.
Barth is careful at this point to guard against the interpretation that makes Israel the 'rejected' community and the Church the 'elected' community. "The object of election is neither Israel for itself nor the Church for itself, but both together in their unity" (199). This must be so, for their election is grounded in the one election of Jesus Christ. What Barth doesn't particularly dwell on here, but which is implicitly clear, is that there can be no question of 'the Jews' being rejected; the Church does not mean the Gentile Church, but means the gathering together of believing Jews and Gentiles.
This two-fold determination of the one elect community mirrors the two-fold determination of the elect Christ, and the two-fold determination implies the unity: behind the apparent resistance of election by Israel stands the rejection of God - but that rejection is seen in the light of God's election of man to fellowship with himself, and thus in light of God's taking this rejection on himself; behind the faith of the Church stands the election of God - but that election is seen in the light of God's rejection of sinful man, and thus in light of God's taking that rejection on himself (200). Israel and the Church are one community, united in their witness to Christ - although only in the latter case is this actually known.
Barth backs this up by reference to Romans 9:1-5 - he will expound Romans 9-11 throughout this section. From verses 1 to 3, he argues that "Paul is in a position to exercise the apostolic office committed to him by Jesus Christ only in the name and on behalf of both the Church and Israel," Indeed, "as the apostle of the Church, Paul can be, and means to be, more than ever a prophet of Israel" (202). For Barth, Paul isn't just naturally distressed at the lack of faith shown by his compatriots; rather, this goes to the heart of his mission. Israel's rejection of the Christ is one determining factor in his preaching. On the other hand, from the Church's point of view, it is clear that "the Church lives by the covenants made between God and Israel" (203) - the promises which the Church grasps and believes are Israel's promises. It is impossible for the Church to want to be without Israel, or at least in so far as it wants this it is not living from faith in Israel's Messiah. "The Church leads no life of its own beside and against Israel. It draws its life from Israel, and Israel itself lives in it" (205). In the face of Israel's unbelief, the Church can only confess its faith in Israel's Messiah. "In the name and on behalf of this dead Israel, it must confess the One who (as the Lord both of the dead and the living, Rom 14:9) does not even, in view of this form of death, cease to be the living Head of the whole community and therefore the hope even of these dead" (205).
I felt a bit uncomfortable reading through this section. But I wonder whether I've just drunk a bit too much pluralism. If Jesus really is Israel's Messiah, you'd have to say something like this, wouldn't you?
Barth begins by clarifying why this section is here. Scripture does not move from the election of Christ directly to the election of individual human beings in him. It begins with a "mediate and mediating election", the object of which is "men as a fellowship elected by God in Jesus Christ and determined from all eternity for a particular service" (196). Barth uses "the concept of the community because it covers the reality both of Israel and the Church" (196), and he sees the election of this community as mediate because in a sense the mid-point between the election of Christ and the election in him of individuals; and as mediating because the relation between Christ's election and the individual's election is "mediated and conditioned" by the election of the community. Barth sees this mediation as mirroring the existence of Christ - in so far as the community stands over against the world, it reflects the freedom of God's election, and in so far as it serves the world it reflects his love.
Israel and the Church are bound together, then, as the one elect community in Christ, but Israel and the Church reflect the two different aspects of the election of Christ which we have already seen. "Jesus Christ is the crucified Messiah of Israel. As such He is the authentic witness to the judgement that God takes upon Himself by choosing fellowship with man" (198). But he is also "the Risen Lord of the Church. As such he is the authentic witness of the mercy" shown by God in turning man to himself and to his own glory (198). For Barth, Israel is the community which hears the promise, but which "resists its divine election" (198); in thus displaying what humanity is like, "Israel attests the justice of the divine judgement on man borne by God Himself" (198). Israel reveals "the passing of the old man" (198), but in so doing it is also "the secret origin of the Church" in which the "new man becomes true" (199). The Church, as the gathering of Jews and Gentiles together, is the community which recognises and testifies to the divine mercy in Christ - it not only hears the promise, but believes. And yet, for all its newness, it understands its origin as being in Israel, and in its determination.
Barth is careful at this point to guard against the interpretation that makes Israel the 'rejected' community and the Church the 'elected' community. "The object of election is neither Israel for itself nor the Church for itself, but both together in their unity" (199). This must be so, for their election is grounded in the one election of Jesus Christ. What Barth doesn't particularly dwell on here, but which is implicitly clear, is that there can be no question of 'the Jews' being rejected; the Church does not mean the Gentile Church, but means the gathering together of believing Jews and Gentiles.
This two-fold determination of the one elect community mirrors the two-fold determination of the elect Christ, and the two-fold determination implies the unity: behind the apparent resistance of election by Israel stands the rejection of God - but that rejection is seen in the light of God's election of man to fellowship with himself, and thus in light of God's taking this rejection on himself; behind the faith of the Church stands the election of God - but that election is seen in the light of God's rejection of sinful man, and thus in light of God's taking that rejection on himself (200). Israel and the Church are one community, united in their witness to Christ - although only in the latter case is this actually known.
Barth backs this up by reference to Romans 9:1-5 - he will expound Romans 9-11 throughout this section. From verses 1 to 3, he argues that "Paul is in a position to exercise the apostolic office committed to him by Jesus Christ only in the name and on behalf of both the Church and Israel," Indeed, "as the apostle of the Church, Paul can be, and means to be, more than ever a prophet of Israel" (202). For Barth, Paul isn't just naturally distressed at the lack of faith shown by his compatriots; rather, this goes to the heart of his mission. Israel's rejection of the Christ is one determining factor in his preaching. On the other hand, from the Church's point of view, it is clear that "the Church lives by the covenants made between God and Israel" (203) - the promises which the Church grasps and believes are Israel's promises. It is impossible for the Church to want to be without Israel, or at least in so far as it wants this it is not living from faith in Israel's Messiah. "The Church leads no life of its own beside and against Israel. It draws its life from Israel, and Israel itself lives in it" (205). In the face of Israel's unbelief, the Church can only confess its faith in Israel's Messiah. "In the name and on behalf of this dead Israel, it must confess the One who (as the Lord both of the dead and the living, Rom 14:9) does not even, in view of this form of death, cease to be the living Head of the whole community and therefore the hope even of these dead" (205).
I felt a bit uncomfortable reading through this section. But I wonder whether I've just drunk a bit too much pluralism. If Jesus really is Israel's Messiah, you'd have to say something like this, wouldn't you?
Sunday, October 16, 2016
Creation and Covenant
Psalm 147 is a prime example of how the Psalms can be both 'nature' psalms and songs celebrating God's covenant with Israel at the same time. Are we talking about God building up Jerusalem, or about God creating and maintaining the stars? Is the theme that God's word melts the ice, or is it that God's word is sent to Israel for their obedience? Ultimately these things cannot be unpicked. Here are some slightly jumbled thoughts on the Psalm.
1. Creation is not in itself the covenant. There is a particularity about what God does for Israel which is lacking in creation - "he has not dealt thus with any other nation". That God chooses Israel to be the witness of his glory (not least his glory revealed in creation!) is not just another part of the unfolding of creation itself, but is something subsequent and new. (Although sometimes it seems to be prior and older - the building of Jerusalem takes precedence over the creation of the stars!)
2. Creation is not a neutral sphere within which the covenant is enacted. Israel is governed by God's word - "his statutes and rules" - but so, in its own way, is the snow and ice and water - "he sends out his word, and melts them". There is continuity in the way God works, and he is absolute Lord over all he has made.
3. Creation and covenant derive from the same power and evoke the same praise. The greatness of God is revealed in his healing the broken-hearted of Israel, and in his giving the stars their names and number.
4. Creation exists for the covenant, but there is 'gratuitous' overflow. God fills Israel "with the finest of the wheat" - creation is geared up to provide covenant blessing. But then, he also feeds the young ravens! Though God's delight is in those who fear him and hope in his love, that same love overflows to those who cannot fear him and hope in him.
5. It is pleasant to sing praise to God for his glory in creation and covenant. When creation is seen in the light of God's dealings with Israel, there seems to be a return to the 'it was good' of Genesis 1. Here is a positive delight in the works and ways of God which it wouldn't hurt us to imitate!
1. Creation is not in itself the covenant. There is a particularity about what God does for Israel which is lacking in creation - "he has not dealt thus with any other nation". That God chooses Israel to be the witness of his glory (not least his glory revealed in creation!) is not just another part of the unfolding of creation itself, but is something subsequent and new. (Although sometimes it seems to be prior and older - the building of Jerusalem takes precedence over the creation of the stars!)
2. Creation is not a neutral sphere within which the covenant is enacted. Israel is governed by God's word - "his statutes and rules" - but so, in its own way, is the snow and ice and water - "he sends out his word, and melts them". There is continuity in the way God works, and he is absolute Lord over all he has made.
3. Creation and covenant derive from the same power and evoke the same praise. The greatness of God is revealed in his healing the broken-hearted of Israel, and in his giving the stars their names and number.
4. Creation exists for the covenant, but there is 'gratuitous' overflow. God fills Israel "with the finest of the wheat" - creation is geared up to provide covenant blessing. But then, he also feeds the young ravens! Though God's delight is in those who fear him and hope in his love, that same love overflows to those who cannot fear him and hope in him.
5. It is pleasant to sing praise to God for his glory in creation and covenant. When creation is seen in the light of God's dealings with Israel, there seems to be a return to the 'it was good' of Genesis 1. Here is a positive delight in the works and ways of God which it wouldn't hurt us to imitate!
Friday, October 14, 2016
Day to day godliness
The tragic irony in the book of Galatians is that those who are encouraging the new Christians to shore up their righteousness and their status as God's children by getting circumcised are actually directing them away from the only source of holiness.
In Galatians 6, the apostle Paul launches a last sally against these people, whom he regards as agitators. They are not genuine, he says; their concern is not real godliness, but just fleshly appearances and the avoidance of persecution. They do not keep the law themselves. (They perhaps did not consider themselves obligated to keep the whole law, but Paul sees the logic of their position: if you are making your righteousness dependent on things you've done, you'd better make sure you've done all the right things!) Paul has no interest in such a position. The cross of Christ means the death of that fleshly way of doing things. Neither circumcision nor uncircumcision count for anything, but only a new creation.
The point, I think, is that trying to seek righteousness by fleshly methods - by which Paul means anything that is driven by human effort or works, although obviously circumcision is a very literally 'fleshly' example! - is futile because the fundamental tendencies of the flesh are towards sin. Trying to get righteous using tools which are inherently biased against righteousness is pretty foolish. The cross of Jesus puts an end to it; he has done everything necessary, and we must trust in him.
But it seems that the question in Galatians is mainly about lived experience. How does the righteousness we're given by faith in Christ live its way out in daily experience? Surely at this point human effort has to come in?
Fundamentally the answer is no. Not that there isn't hard work involved, but it flows from the same Spirit who began the new creation in us. Since the Spirit gave us life, let's live in a way shaped and directed by the Spirit. And how is that Spirit given and received? Through the preaching and believing of the message of Christ.
So anything that takes us away from hearing and believing the message that Jesus alone is our righteousness also takes us away from the engine that drives practical, day to day godliness.
In Galatians 6, the apostle Paul launches a last sally against these people, whom he regards as agitators. They are not genuine, he says; their concern is not real godliness, but just fleshly appearances and the avoidance of persecution. They do not keep the law themselves. (They perhaps did not consider themselves obligated to keep the whole law, but Paul sees the logic of their position: if you are making your righteousness dependent on things you've done, you'd better make sure you've done all the right things!) Paul has no interest in such a position. The cross of Christ means the death of that fleshly way of doing things. Neither circumcision nor uncircumcision count for anything, but only a new creation.
The point, I think, is that trying to seek righteousness by fleshly methods - by which Paul means anything that is driven by human effort or works, although obviously circumcision is a very literally 'fleshly' example! - is futile because the fundamental tendencies of the flesh are towards sin. Trying to get righteous using tools which are inherently biased against righteousness is pretty foolish. The cross of Jesus puts an end to it; he has done everything necessary, and we must trust in him.
But it seems that the question in Galatians is mainly about lived experience. How does the righteousness we're given by faith in Christ live its way out in daily experience? Surely at this point human effort has to come in?
Fundamentally the answer is no. Not that there isn't hard work involved, but it flows from the same Spirit who began the new creation in us. Since the Spirit gave us life, let's live in a way shaped and directed by the Spirit. And how is that Spirit given and received? Through the preaching and believing of the message of Christ.
So anything that takes us away from hearing and believing the message that Jesus alone is our righteousness also takes us away from the engine that drives practical, day to day godliness.
Wednesday, October 12, 2016
Overflowing glory
A slightly lengthy excerpt from Church Dogmatics II/2, p 169, which didn't make it into my Monday post:
"Because there is no darkness in God, there can be no darkness in what He chooses and wills. Nor is there anything midway, anything neutral, between light and darkness. In aim and purpose, God is only light, unbroken light. What God does is well done. Our starting point must always be that in all His willing and choosing what God ultimately wills is Himself. All God's willing is primarily a determination of the love of the Father and the Son in the fellowship of the Holy Ghost. How, then, can its content be otherwise than good? How can it be anything else but glory - a glory which is new and distinctive and divine? But in this primal decision God does not choose only Himself. In this choice of self, He also chooses another, that other which is man. Man is the outward cause and object of the overflowing of the divine glory. God's goodness and favour are directed towards him. In this movement God has not chosen and willed a second god side by side with Himself, but a being distinct from Himself. And in all its otherness, as His creature and antithesis, this being has been ordained to participation in His own glory, the glory to which it owes its origin. It has been ordained to exist in the brightness of this glory and as the bearer of its image. In all its otherness it is predestined to receive the divine good which has been revealed and communicated. This is what is ordained for man in the primal decision of the divine decree. The portion which God willed and chose for him was an ordination to blessedness. For to be able to attest the overflowing glory of the Creator is blessedness. God willed man and elected man with the promise of eternal life. Life as a witness to the overflowing glory of God is eternal life." (Bold added).
That is to say:
Everything God wills is good and glorious because at base it comes from his own inward life of perfection as he is from eternity and through eternity Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
The creation of humanity is already the overflow of this goodness and glory; I take it this means that our very existence as people owes itself to God's choice to be himself in this particular overflowing way.
The predestined end of humanity is the experience and enjoyment of God's glory; that is to say, human beings move from their creation as the overflow of God's goodness and glory to their consummation as the witnesses of God's goodness and glory - meaning those who in themselves derive their greatest joy from God's goodness and glory and therefore those who attest it.
Real blessedness and true life is to stand in the position of those who know God's overflowing glory, both as recipients and - because this glory is overflowing - as communicators. In the present age, one can imagine this communication as evangelism; in the age to come, won't it just be praise?
"Because there is no darkness in God, there can be no darkness in what He chooses and wills. Nor is there anything midway, anything neutral, between light and darkness. In aim and purpose, God is only light, unbroken light. What God does is well done. Our starting point must always be that in all His willing and choosing what God ultimately wills is Himself. All God's willing is primarily a determination of the love of the Father and the Son in the fellowship of the Holy Ghost. How, then, can its content be otherwise than good? How can it be anything else but glory - a glory which is new and distinctive and divine? But in this primal decision God does not choose only Himself. In this choice of self, He also chooses another, that other which is man. Man is the outward cause and object of the overflowing of the divine glory. God's goodness and favour are directed towards him. In this movement God has not chosen and willed a second god side by side with Himself, but a being distinct from Himself. And in all its otherness, as His creature and antithesis, this being has been ordained to participation in His own glory, the glory to which it owes its origin. It has been ordained to exist in the brightness of this glory and as the bearer of its image. In all its otherness it is predestined to receive the divine good which has been revealed and communicated. This is what is ordained for man in the primal decision of the divine decree. The portion which God willed and chose for him was an ordination to blessedness. For to be able to attest the overflowing glory of the Creator is blessedness. God willed man and elected man with the promise of eternal life. Life as a witness to the overflowing glory of God is eternal life." (Bold added).
That is to say:
Everything God wills is good and glorious because at base it comes from his own inward life of perfection as he is from eternity and through eternity Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
The creation of humanity is already the overflow of this goodness and glory; I take it this means that our very existence as people owes itself to God's choice to be himself in this particular overflowing way.
The predestined end of humanity is the experience and enjoyment of God's glory; that is to say, human beings move from their creation as the overflow of God's goodness and glory to their consummation as the witnesses of God's goodness and glory - meaning those who in themselves derive their greatest joy from God's goodness and glory and therefore those who attest it.
Real blessedness and true life is to stand in the position of those who know God's overflowing glory, both as recipients and - because this glory is overflowing - as communicators. In the present age, one can imagine this communication as evangelism; in the age to come, won't it just be praise?
Monday, October 10, 2016
Reader Response: Church Dogmatics ch VII (5)
If you're feeling a bit lost, remember that the synopsis of the section is still just over here. Today we round out Barth's teaching about Jesus Christ as the electing God and the elected Man, under the heading The eternal will of God in the election of Jesus Christ. As a reminder of what it is that Barth is seeking to explain and defend in this sub-section, he summarises his doctrine thus far: Jesus Christ is the electing God (the subject of election), and he is the elected man (the object of election); "In the beginning with God was this One, Jesus Christ. And that is predestination" (145). But of course that is rather different from the traditional understanding, and so it requires defence. This is a long sub-section, which makes four main points. I will try to give an overview, although in the nature of the case it will be with very broad brush-strokes.
1. An "epistemological observation" (146). Barth's thesis differs from the traditional view because in that view the subject and object of predestination "are treated as unknown" (146). This won't do. "For as long as we are left in obscurity on the one side or the other, and in practice both, as long as we cannot ultimately know, and ought not to know, and ought not even to ask, who is the electing God and elected man, it does not avail us in the least to be assured and reassured that in face of this mystery we ought to be silent and to humble ourselves and to adore" (147). Are we really faced with this unfathomable mystery on each side? "The decisive point is the reading of the Bible itself. It is the question where and how we find in the Bible itself the electing God and elected man..." (148). For Barth, the answer is that the Bible points us to Jesus Christ and no other, and he is critical of the theologians of Protestant Orthodoxy who generally understood and stuck to the rule that God is known in his revelation, in Christ, and in him alone - except at this point. "Is Jesus Christ really the One who was, and is, and is to come, or is He not?" (153) - and if he is, why does that 'was' not include election and predestination?
2. Predestination is "eternal, preceding time and all the contents of time"; it is "the beginning which has no beginning except in God's eternal being in Himself" (155). This does not mean that God is "tied in Himself to the universe" (155) - Barth knows that God is in himself self-sufficient, and knows that it is in freedom that he has committed himself to the universe. (I think this is a place where Barth does rely on the traditional doctrine of the immanent Trinity). So far, so traditional. But the difference is that for Barth "at the beginning of all things God's eternal plan and decree was identical with what is disclosed to us in time as the revelation of God and of the truth about all things" (156). As an aside, I don't think there is any collapsing of time into eternity here; the will of God in eternity is enacted in time. But what God does in time is identical with his will from all eternity.
3. "The eternal will of God in the election of Jesus Christ is His will to give Himself for the sake of man as created by Him and fallen from Him" (161). This is a two-fold predestination, in that it involves God's choice of himself for man, and of man for himself. But God has nothing to gain here; in choosing himself for fellowship with man, he is "hazarding ... His Godhead and power and status" (162). "Where man stands only to gain, God stands only to lose" (162). In reference to the Calvinist doctrine of a double predestination - election and reprobation - Barth comments "that in the election of Jesus Christ which is the eternal will of God, God has ascribed to man the former, election, salvation and life; and to Himself He has ascribed the latter, reprobation, perdition and death" (163). In saying this, "we say implicitly that this portion is not man's portion" (166). In fact, "the self-giving of God consists, the giving and sending of His Son is fulfilled, in the fact that He is rejected in order that we might not be rejected. Predestination means that from all eternity God has determined upon man's acquittal at his own cost" (167). For Barth, the big problem with the classical Calvinist doctrine of predestination is that because it is not founded on Christ it ends up being dangerously balanced between good and evil, election and reprobation, life and death. In his own reworking, election predominates, life predominates. This does, of course, raise the question of the individual's election (or reprobation?), but Barth doesn't attempt to tackle that at this stage. It seems to me that the logic of this point directs us towards universalism, and if Barth isn't going there we'll need to see why later.
4. Because God's eternal will is "identical with the election of Jesus Christ" it is "a divine activity in the form of the history, encounter and decision between God and man" (175). This point is a little obscure to me. The overall thrust seems to be that predestination doesn't mean the setting up of an immutable law, but that it means rather the playing out of the history between God and man which we see in Jesus Christ. On the way, Barth says that "the purpose and meaning of the eternal divine election of grace consists in the fact that the one who is elected from all eternity can and does elect God in return" (178) - I take it that what he is saying is that God's election leads to genuine relationship between God and man, not just a puppet show with God pulling all the strings.
The overall effect of this sub-section, for me, is to clarify what Barth means by making Christ the subject and object of election - and it is a beautiful and I think pastorally sensitive construction. But along the way I'm not sure that the question of the individual's election hasn't become less clear. God's election plays out in history, and indeed can only be known in this way ("There is no knowledge of predestination except in the movement from the electing God to elected man, and back again from elected man to the electing God" [186].) - but what does this mean for us as individuals exactly? We'll see whether we get answers or not.
1. An "epistemological observation" (146). Barth's thesis differs from the traditional view because in that view the subject and object of predestination "are treated as unknown" (146). This won't do. "For as long as we are left in obscurity on the one side or the other, and in practice both, as long as we cannot ultimately know, and ought not to know, and ought not even to ask, who is the electing God and elected man, it does not avail us in the least to be assured and reassured that in face of this mystery we ought to be silent and to humble ourselves and to adore" (147). Are we really faced with this unfathomable mystery on each side? "The decisive point is the reading of the Bible itself. It is the question where and how we find in the Bible itself the electing God and elected man..." (148). For Barth, the answer is that the Bible points us to Jesus Christ and no other, and he is critical of the theologians of Protestant Orthodoxy who generally understood and stuck to the rule that God is known in his revelation, in Christ, and in him alone - except at this point. "Is Jesus Christ really the One who was, and is, and is to come, or is He not?" (153) - and if he is, why does that 'was' not include election and predestination?
2. Predestination is "eternal, preceding time and all the contents of time"; it is "the beginning which has no beginning except in God's eternal being in Himself" (155). This does not mean that God is "tied in Himself to the universe" (155) - Barth knows that God is in himself self-sufficient, and knows that it is in freedom that he has committed himself to the universe. (I think this is a place where Barth does rely on the traditional doctrine of the immanent Trinity). So far, so traditional. But the difference is that for Barth "at the beginning of all things God's eternal plan and decree was identical with what is disclosed to us in time as the revelation of God and of the truth about all things" (156). As an aside, I don't think there is any collapsing of time into eternity here; the will of God in eternity is enacted in time. But what God does in time is identical with his will from all eternity.
3. "The eternal will of God in the election of Jesus Christ is His will to give Himself for the sake of man as created by Him and fallen from Him" (161). This is a two-fold predestination, in that it involves God's choice of himself for man, and of man for himself. But God has nothing to gain here; in choosing himself for fellowship with man, he is "hazarding ... His Godhead and power and status" (162). "Where man stands only to gain, God stands only to lose" (162). In reference to the Calvinist doctrine of a double predestination - election and reprobation - Barth comments "that in the election of Jesus Christ which is the eternal will of God, God has ascribed to man the former, election, salvation and life; and to Himself He has ascribed the latter, reprobation, perdition and death" (163). In saying this, "we say implicitly that this portion is not man's portion" (166). In fact, "the self-giving of God consists, the giving and sending of His Son is fulfilled, in the fact that He is rejected in order that we might not be rejected. Predestination means that from all eternity God has determined upon man's acquittal at his own cost" (167). For Barth, the big problem with the classical Calvinist doctrine of predestination is that because it is not founded on Christ it ends up being dangerously balanced between good and evil, election and reprobation, life and death. In his own reworking, election predominates, life predominates. This does, of course, raise the question of the individual's election (or reprobation?), but Barth doesn't attempt to tackle that at this stage. It seems to me that the logic of this point directs us towards universalism, and if Barth isn't going there we'll need to see why later.
4. Because God's eternal will is "identical with the election of Jesus Christ" it is "a divine activity in the form of the history, encounter and decision between God and man" (175). This point is a little obscure to me. The overall thrust seems to be that predestination doesn't mean the setting up of an immutable law, but that it means rather the playing out of the history between God and man which we see in Jesus Christ. On the way, Barth says that "the purpose and meaning of the eternal divine election of grace consists in the fact that the one who is elected from all eternity can and does elect God in return" (178) - I take it that what he is saying is that God's election leads to genuine relationship between God and man, not just a puppet show with God pulling all the strings.
The overall effect of this sub-section, for me, is to clarify what Barth means by making Christ the subject and object of election - and it is a beautiful and I think pastorally sensitive construction. But along the way I'm not sure that the question of the individual's election hasn't become less clear. God's election plays out in history, and indeed can only be known in this way ("There is no knowledge of predestination except in the movement from the electing God to elected man, and back again from elected man to the electing God" [186].) - but what does this mean for us as individuals exactly? We'll see whether we get answers or not.
Wednesday, October 05, 2016
On not fighting the culture wars
For most of the British Christians I know, it is a source of some pride or at least satisfaction that we are not fighting the culture wars. A quick glance across the Atlantic appears to reveal a war-zone in which Christians are fighting what looks very much like a desperate and increasingly compromised rear-guard action against the modern world. We are pretty glad to be out of it.
There are a number of reasons we're not fighting the culture wars, I think. For starters, Christians are fairly evenly spread across the main political traditions in the UK, which makes it almost impossible for us to act as a block in political matters. There is enormous value in this for the church - it means that we have represented in our congregations people who see the goodness in each of those political traditions, which keeps us from becoming narrow, and it brings us regularly into contact with people who share our fundamental allegiance (to Christ) whilst having a largely different political loyalty, which keeps us from becoming too partisan. This is good. I think there is also a different tradition of Bible-reading and interpretation, less influenced by fundamentalism (in its historic, not its pejorative, sense), which is less quick to shut down discussion with a 'because the Bible says so'. This, I think, is also good.
Because there are good theological reasons not to join in this fight. I think the central reason is that the gospel is not a worldview or a philosophy or a rule-book for society, but is the glorious and joyful good news of what God has done in Christ. That good news cannot be identified absolutely with any worldview or form of society, but critiques them all; it is therefore not in order to use the gospel to defend a nostalgic or utopian social order. Then again, there is good theological reason to avoid fighting because the offensive or defensive posture necessary for the culture wars does not sit well with the openness of the gospel or the freedom of its invitation. Angry or frightened soldiers don't as a rule look like emissaries of the gracious King.
Still, I have a few anxieties. The first one is about motivation. There are all sorts of potential motives for not fighting the culture wars which are really good, but I can't help feeling that quite often we don't fight because we want to look good or credible to the world, or just because we're afraid of taking a stand for anything. That is something I need to check my own heart on.
Second, I'm anxious that by not fighting we must just be losing by default. After all, it only takes one side to start a war. When you notice the preponderance of stories on the BBC seeking to normalise the idea of gender fluidity, for example, it's hard to escape the impression that just because we're not fighting doesn't mean we're not being fought against.
Third, I'm anxious that we're allowing a social order to solidify which presents a sort of penultimate challenge (in Bonhoeffer's sense) to the gospel. That is to say, although issues of, for example, sexuality or economics are not ultimately gospel issues, it is entirely possible to create a setup of penultimate things which makes it harder for the ultimate (the gospel message) to be heard. I wonder if we're doing that.
Fourth, I'm anxious for my children, who are growing up in a world where a Biblical stance on numerous ethical and social issues is completely implausible - much more so than when I was young. Have we let them down?
Fifth, but perhaps most urgently, I'm anxious - or rather, distressed - at the way in which we've allowed issues of the utmost importance - like the value of life - to become grey areas. There's nothing grey about killing babies, and I'm not sure that avoiding fighting the culture wars, even for good motives, is a good reason not to speak up.
I don't want to fight the culture wars. I don't think we'd win anyway, and I don't think it would do the cause of Christ's gospel any good. But what are we going to do?
There are a number of reasons we're not fighting the culture wars, I think. For starters, Christians are fairly evenly spread across the main political traditions in the UK, which makes it almost impossible for us to act as a block in political matters. There is enormous value in this for the church - it means that we have represented in our congregations people who see the goodness in each of those political traditions, which keeps us from becoming narrow, and it brings us regularly into contact with people who share our fundamental allegiance (to Christ) whilst having a largely different political loyalty, which keeps us from becoming too partisan. This is good. I think there is also a different tradition of Bible-reading and interpretation, less influenced by fundamentalism (in its historic, not its pejorative, sense), which is less quick to shut down discussion with a 'because the Bible says so'. This, I think, is also good.
Because there are good theological reasons not to join in this fight. I think the central reason is that the gospel is not a worldview or a philosophy or a rule-book for society, but is the glorious and joyful good news of what God has done in Christ. That good news cannot be identified absolutely with any worldview or form of society, but critiques them all; it is therefore not in order to use the gospel to defend a nostalgic or utopian social order. Then again, there is good theological reason to avoid fighting because the offensive or defensive posture necessary for the culture wars does not sit well with the openness of the gospel or the freedom of its invitation. Angry or frightened soldiers don't as a rule look like emissaries of the gracious King.
Still, I have a few anxieties. The first one is about motivation. There are all sorts of potential motives for not fighting the culture wars which are really good, but I can't help feeling that quite often we don't fight because we want to look good or credible to the world, or just because we're afraid of taking a stand for anything. That is something I need to check my own heart on.
Second, I'm anxious that by not fighting we must just be losing by default. After all, it only takes one side to start a war. When you notice the preponderance of stories on the BBC seeking to normalise the idea of gender fluidity, for example, it's hard to escape the impression that just because we're not fighting doesn't mean we're not being fought against.
Third, I'm anxious that we're allowing a social order to solidify which presents a sort of penultimate challenge (in Bonhoeffer's sense) to the gospel. That is to say, although issues of, for example, sexuality or economics are not ultimately gospel issues, it is entirely possible to create a setup of penultimate things which makes it harder for the ultimate (the gospel message) to be heard. I wonder if we're doing that.
Fourth, I'm anxious for my children, who are growing up in a world where a Biblical stance on numerous ethical and social issues is completely implausible - much more so than when I was young. Have we let them down?
Fifth, but perhaps most urgently, I'm anxious - or rather, distressed - at the way in which we've allowed issues of the utmost importance - like the value of life - to become grey areas. There's nothing grey about killing babies, and I'm not sure that avoiding fighting the culture wars, even for good motives, is a good reason not to speak up.
I don't want to fight the culture wars. I don't think we'd win anyway, and I don't think it would do the cause of Christ's gospel any good. But what are we going to do?
Monday, October 03, 2016
Reader Response: Church Dogmatics ch VII (4)
Just so you can check where we are, the synopsis of this section of the Dogmatics is still sitting here. We have reached the meat, if you like, of the chapter, as Barth begins to do some constructive work around his central claim: that Jesus Christ is the basis and content of the doctrine of election. In this sub-section he takes this in two directions, hence the title: Jesus Christ, electing and elected.
Barth begins by repeating his claim that Jesus Christ is the foundation of all God's ways and works. "He is the decree of God behind and above which there can be no earlier or higher decree and beside which there can be no others, since all others serve only the fulfilment of this decree. He is the beginning of God before which there is no other beginning apart from that of God within Himself" (94). It would be futile to look for any more basic determination of God in his ways and works than the man Jesus Christ. Barth backs this up with an exegesis of John 1:1-2, in which he argues that it is precisely Jesus Christ who was with God in the beginning. I am not sure how convincing I would find this by itself, but as Barth points out it merely reflects an idea "which is quite familiar in the witness of the New Testament" (98), citing amongst others Colossians 1:15 and Hebrews 1:3.
The doctrine, then, is pushing is back into the sphere of who God is in himself, in his eternal self-being. But Barth warns us against thinking that "this sphere is empty and undetermined" (100), or occupied only by an abstract god-image defined by absolute choice. "In terms of the doctrine of election, that would leave us with an absolute decree, the danger of which he has already discussed. Rather, we are to think already of Jesus Christ. "In the beginning, before time and space as we know them, before creation, before there was any reality distinct from God which could be the object of the love of God or the setting for His acts of freedom, God anticipated and determined within Himself... that the goal and meaning of all His dealings with the as-yet non-existent universe should be the fact that in His Son He would be gracious towards man, uniting Himself with him" (101).
That Jesus Christ is both the one who elects and the one who is elected reflects the fact that he is both God and man. That Jesus Christ is the electing God means that he takes the place of the absolute decree - we are not dealing with an abstract God, but with Jesus. Jesus Christ was in the beginning with God, not just in the way that all creation was in God's plan, but as himself God. "Thus Jesus Christ is not merely one object of the divine good pleasure side by side with others. On the contrary, He is the sole object of this good pleasure, for in the first instance He himself is this good pleasure, the will of God in action" (104). Barth argues that Augustine saw the importance of this - as did Athanasius (he cites from the second Oration against the Arians, esp. 75-77). The point is that "Jesus Christ is the electing God. We must not ask concerning any other but Him. In no depth of the Godhead shall we encounter any other but Him", which has the pastoral implication that "in the very foreground of our existence in history we can and should cleave wholly and with full assurance to Him, because in the eternal background of history, in the beginning with God, the only decree which was passed, the only Word which was spoken and which prevails, was the decision which was executed by Him" (115).
Jesus Christ is also elected man, which means that "before all created reality, before all being and becoming in time, before time itself, in the pre-temporal eternity of God, the eternal divine decision as such has as its object and content the existence of this one created being, the man Jesus of Nazareth, and the work of this man in His life and death, His humiliation and exaltation, His obedience and merit" (116). It is not that the man Jesus of Nazareth is worthy of this - he does not exist! Rather, "in the predestination of the man Jesus we see what predestination is always and everywhere - the acceptance and reception of man only by the free grace of God" (118). Note that Barth is saying more here than that Jesus is the first example of election; he is saying that in the election of this man is encompassed God's will for all creation. "This man Jesus, as the object of the divine decree, is the beginning of all God's ways and works, the first-born of all creation (121).
And this election has shape: "the elected man Jesus was foreordained to suffer and die" (122). Because the election of Jesus carries within itself the election of a creation free from sin and free for God, it is a predestination to the cross. "The rejection which all men incurred, the wrath of God under which all men lie, the death which all men must die, God in his love for men transfers from all eternity to Him in whom He loves and elects them, and whom He elects as their head and in their place" (123). "He did not owe it to us to do it. For it was not He but we ourselves in our culpable weakness who delivered us up to Satan and to the divine wrath and rejection. And yet God does it because from all eternity He loves and elects us in His Son, because from all eternity He sees us in His Son as sinners to whom He is gracious" (125).
If Jesus is the elect man, what does that mean for individuals? Granted that Barth thinks it would be disastrous to start with this question, we presumably do have to ask it at some point. And here we get a hint of his answer: "their election consists concretely in their faith in Him" (126). "To believe in Jesus means to have His resurrection and prayer both in the mind and in the heart. And this means to be elected" (127). Which I understand descriptively, and I can see the pastoral wisdom in directing people to trust wholly in Christ as the one who is Elect. But there is still that nagging question: why do some believe and not others? We'll see whether it gets addressed or not; Barth might think it an irrelevant question.
The sub-section closes with a (somewhat lengthy) historical review of the supralapsarian/infralapsarian debate of the 17th century. For what it's worth, Barth comes down more on the supra side, whilst pointing out that on his own presuppositions both systems are inadmissible due to their fault presupposition of an absolute decree and therefore a somewhat balanced system of election and reprobation. If only, he thinks, they had all started with Jesus.
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