Let me make something crystal clear: I repudiate David Congdon’s theology tout court. Something I tacitly was aware of was made really clear to me earlier today. In my early days of blogging (2005-06) I came into contact with two Princeton Theological Seminary students: David Congdon and W. Travis McMaken. I developed a better relationship with Travis than David, but they were two guys I thought I shared certain trajectories with (although not at first). As they finished their MDivs and went on to do their PhDs at PTS I followed along with them through their blogs and other writings. Over the years it became clear that they were progressing in ways that I wasn’t. I think the clincher for Congdon was his decision to study the theology of Rudolph Bultmann for his PhD dissertation. He has since published that, and an expansion of it in a massive tome (almost a thousand pages); which I am currently half way through. It has become apparent that David has not only been overcome by Bultmann’s way of thinking, but he has, as far as I understand Bultmann, sought to radicalize even Bultmann’s thought.

What was made really clear to me today was that a former (he may still presently read, I don’t know) blog reader of mine let me know that I was the one who introduced him to David Congdon (and the whole crowd and feeling that has developed around Congdon and his type of theology). I know that there are others out there who also were turned onto David because of me exposing them to him. When I would refer to David or Travis at my blog they both were on the way, and my reference to them had to do with Barth’s theology; not Bultmann’s! Be that as it may, Congdon, who surely is a very smart articulate guy, was attractive to these young impressionable theological minds; he hooked’m (not that he was intentionally attempting that).

If there is any lingering doubt about my relationship to Congdon’s theology (I mean I’ve been quoting from him recently here at the blog) in particular, let me be crystal clear: I think David has gone off the rails, and I, yes, repudiate his existentialist, apocalyptic, eschatological, deworldizing, dialectical, actualistic, radicalized-Butlmannian theology. David rejects the orthodox faith and if he becomes aware of this post will mock me referring even to the language of “orthodox” since he thinks that a cute little trifle from the premodern past. See, for Congdon, who cut his teeth on theology in its modern form (his first real exposure according to his own testimony was to devour Eberhard Jüngel when he started at PTS, and then ‘progress’ from there), his whole project is attenuated by an obsession to erase any sort of “metaphysical” component that the classical theisms offered the Christian through the centuries. For my money, this is actually the driving force behind David’s many theological decisions; it underlies what he is about in reduced form. As a result the Jesus of history is reduced to the kerygmatic reality as that is actualized in the soteriological experience of the saved. In other words, while David, along with Rudolph clearly affirms the reality of the historical personage known as Jesus Christ, this personage in a qualified way becomes a sort of husk wherein his reality is only given reality in the eschatological coming and actualization of his existence as that is located in the existential offering of the kerygma. Unfortunately this demetaphysicizing and radical subjectivizing of the Christ to the Christ-event allows David to arrive at the erroneous conclusions that Jesus did not rise bodily from the grave (instead he rises in the kerygma of faith), and as corollary that there will be no conscious afterlife for believers. In other words, David immanentizes the eschaton to the Christ-event as that is experienced and actualized in the kerygmatic reality.

Michael McClymond offers some good summary as he reviews David’s book The God Who Saves (2016):

Congdon states that his “starting point had to be the saving event itself rather than God, and this saving event had to be simultaneously objective and subjective, or rather it had to dispense with the distinction between objective and subjective altogether.” For Congdon, “the being of God as an isolated metaphysical entity in itself … does not exist.” What exists as a topic for theology is “the concrete being of God for us…which is deity as such.” Throughout The God Who Saves, a blurring of distinctions between objective reality and subjective experience generally works in favor of the latter. “Talk of God is always also talk of the human subject and her historical situation,” writes Congdon. He rejects any notion of an “essence” or “nature” (Greek phusis), whether the term is applied to God or to humanity. “With the exclusion of all worldviews goes the exclusion of all talk of permanent natures or essences in theology. ‘So-called “deity” can no more be interpreted as a phusis than humanity.’” He adds: “Theology is therefore necessarily and thoroughly actualistic … because the truth of the Christ-myth, which is the norm for both form and content, is itself an active occurrence and relation.”

In describing his own intellectual development, Congdon speaks of his conservative Protestant background, and “my complicated, often antagonistic, relationship with my evangelical heritage.” In adopting universalism, he acknowledges the influence of Robin Parry, though he says that “I never shared MacDonald’s particular view” of universalism. On Barth’s influence, he comments that “Barth taught me to see Christ’s save work as the actuality of salvation and not merely its possibility.” It was “initially quite a shock” for Congdon to encounter Bultmann’s 1959 essay—“Adam and Christ”—which repudiated Barth’s claim in Christ and Adam of a universal participation of all human beings in the humanity of Christ. Congdon explains: “The problem with universalism—as well as any notion of pretemporal election—is that it makes a judgment about the individual without regard for her particular historicity and is only, at best, indirectly related to personal existence. Reading Bultmann thus validated an instinct I had inherited from my evangelical upbringing.” He adds that “I would gradually internalize Bultmann’s insights into the historical nature of both God and appropriate talk of God.… The result was a deep internal tension—a tension between a Bultmannian methodological starting point and a Barthian soteriological conclusion.” Congdon is thus self-aware concerning the tensions within his own theology.

And further:

Congdon explains that his intent in writing The God Who Saves was “to develop a nonmetaphysical conception of the atoning work of Christ, which means that the ancient substance ontology is done away with entirely,” resulting in a “universalism without metaphysics.” The definition of metaphysics that Congdon uses is highly pejorative—“a mode of thinking that constrains rational inquiry from the outset with abstract, ahistorical presuppositions.” On this basis, Congdon sees it as useless, and indeed as mistaken or even harmful, to speak of God as “being” or “substance,” or to accept the ancient Christology that defined Jesus as “two natures” in “one person.” He comments on “the internal coherence of Chalcedonian christology.” Condgon’s theology seeks to make a clean sweep of metaphysics, while at the same time intending “to develop an account of participation” that “does not require recourse to a substantival ‘logic of assumption.’” Congdon rejects the idea of “human nature,” and for this reason his presuppositions will not allow for Christ to “assume” human nature or then to act in behalf of other human beings, in the way that was assumed by classical Christian thinkers. In cleansing the gospel from all vestiges of metaphysics, Congdon advocates a theological liberationism that he refers to as a “demetaphysicizing,” “detheorizing,” “deconstantinizing,” “deideologizing,” “desacramentalizing,” deinstitutionizing,” and “delegalizing” of Christianity.[1]

This is to just give the reader a feel for David’s theology; I think McClymond does a pretty good job summarizing the loci present in Congdon’s theology.

The bottom line that I am attempting to impress through this post is: that I am as far away from David’s theology these days as the whale is the elephant (and I mean that absolutely). You shouldn’t be turned onto David’s theology by reading anything I am promoting here at the blog; even if I constructively quote Congdon. I think David needs to repent and come back to the Gospel reality. He offers not just a heterodox Gospel, but a heretical Gospel. He is a fellow with the Westar Institute / Jesus Seminar, and has been for many years. He denigrates and literally mocks people on his Twitter handle who affirm the ‘orthodox-historic’ faith (the only way I know that is through my ghost-Twitter account). And he’s more than just a confused, smart, and erudite young theologian; he’s a dangerous teacher who is leading many young minds away from the orthodox Christ who is bodily-risen, and is coming again in like-manner that he left to physically establish a new heavens and earth in the eschaton. Clear? Good.

One more thing: I recognize that it’s a lost cause in calling back those I turned onto David years ago. But I would like to say I’m sorry for that, and sincerely wish I hadn’t. Does this sound melodramatic? Not to me. None of this is inconsequential when we think from eternity’s perspective. God doesn’t care about our little Twitter or Facebook or blog groups; there’s no source of ultimacy or “but” there in the finalization of things.

[1] Michael McClymond, Apocalypse Now: The Neo-Bultmannian Universalism of David Congdon’s The God Who Saves, accessed 08-29-2018.

This is a lurker reveal post. If you have been reading here or visiting here regularly for any time at all, and you see this post, let me know by simply saying “hi” in the comments (if you feel adventurous you can even say a little bit about yourself). I used to do posts like this every now and then in the past to give folks a chance to reveal themselves a bit; it also serves as an encouragement to me to let me know I’m not just writing posts for the ether alone. 😉

I haven’t written a post like this for a long time, I used to write posts like this pretty frequently; just to keep things clear about how I operate here at my personal blog. I’m a 42 year old full grown man, with a family, responsibilities, so on and so forth. I’ve been “full time” blogging since 2005, even through a terminal cancer (that for some Providential reason I lived through). I just want to
make clear why and how I blog, and the expectations I bring to it. I don’t blog to place myself under anyone’s “accountability”; I don’t blog to open myself up to personal attacks or opinions about who the reader perceives me to be, or thinks I should be; I don’t blog (necessarily) to make “friends” (or enemies); I don’t blog in order to figure out how to communicate so the masses can understand. I blog in order to learn, primarily. I will blog and write about whatever topic I want, whenever I want; that’s one of the points of having a personal blog. If you don’t like what I write, or the topics I choose to write on, then either don’t read them or at the least don’t tell me about it (I don’t care). Also one more thing, don’t be passive-aggressive in your comments. If you are going to take a run at me, and my ideas, then expect me to push back in kind. And if I do push back don’t default to some sort of passive posture, I don’t respect that at all.

That said, I’ve almost always left comments open, and do enjoy engaging in discourse and commenting. But with one caveat (again shaped by what I wrote above), I appreciate comments that engage materially with whatever I have written in a particular post. If you think something I wrote is not understandable, then ask me to clarify prior to launching into a critique of what I didn’t write, or what you THINK I wrote; I don’t respect that, and it “triggers” me. I’m generally a nice person, and I love Jesus, but I won’t be “pushed” around online (or in person), particularly on my blog.

For the moment I am going to turn on the comment moderation function here at the blog. I think that would be wise for me to do that, and not as cumbersome as it used to be; since people rarely comment on blogs anymore (they reserve that for FaceBook and Twitter it seems).

Love you.

Just a heads up for any of you who are friends with me on FaceBook. I just deactivated my account, and I am not sure, if ever, when I will return. I think I first started a FaceBook account in and around 2007, but I let it lay dormant until about 2008; even when I decided to start using my account my only intention was to use it for funneling my blog posts through, which I did. I made over a thousand contacts on FB, and have quite a bit of networking contacts as a result. Even so, in the final analysis, at least for the time being, I am exhausted by FB. Not that I don’t enjoy seeing what’s going on in other people’s lives, and not that I don’t enjoy sharing things with others; but honestly I feel like sometimes people have too much access into my life, almost in unhealthy ways. Beyond that, the real reason is because I spend way too much unproductive time just scanning FB; I can do more productive things with my life, including blogging. To me blogging is the better out-let, there’s enough space here to express meaningful thoughts, and the pace of things is slower and more controlled. I am sure some of my contacts on FB will probably think I unfriended them or blocked them or something, but of course that’s not the case. I only deactivated my account, I did not delete it; so when I feel like it I can reactivate it, and get right back at it again—although my intention is not to do that for awhile.

If you’re not friends with me on FB then this doesn’t affect you, but if you are now you know what happened. Expect more blog posts than I’ve been producing as of late. With the vacuum created by not being on FB, my blogging will once again be my primary online out-let for all things theological. I still do have a Twitter account open, but I’m not a fan of Twitter, really.

One more thing, if you’re friends with me on FB, and someone else asks you if you know what happened to me, could you let them know? And tell them to come visit me here. 🙂

Just a quick housekeeping note in regard to commenting here at The Evangelical Calvinist. I actually don’t get that many comments anymore (blogging has changed since I started 10 years ago), and typically anytime I do you all use great tone and are respectful even if you disagree with me on things. But I would like to be clear: This is my personal blog, it is where I think out loud, write to learn, and process various things. One thing that I won’t accept are comments that tell me, on my own blog, what I should or shouldn’t post and/or when I should or shouldn’t post on whatever topic we might be considering.

Somebody just told me via comment that I shouldn’t have posted that post that I did on Pray for Paris, Jean Cauvin. Apparently they thought it was in bad taste, or maybe opportunistic or whatever. I can assure you that that post was not that. That post, for one thing was, for me, a way to process the tragedy that happened on November 13th, and also a way to maybe put up something encouraging and edifying from John Calvin (who just happened to be French). I thought his words were apropos, and even timely in regard to underscoring what prayer is and what it can and should accomplish for those who do pray. My commentary on that post was intended to set up that quote (from Calvin) and nothing else. I don’t think that what I wrote in that post was distasteful or too quick.

Anyway, I am going to post whatever I feel led, at the time, to post. If you see a title to a post and you don’t think you will like its contents, then don’t read it, nobody is forcing you to. I am thankful to have the readers that I do, and thankful, typically, for the type of feedback that I get. But I just want to be clear about what I am doing with this blog, and to emphasize that this is my blog; nobody is forcing you to read it, but I am grateful that you all do.

Thanks. Pax.

PS. If I receive comments that I think are outside the bounds of what I find acceptable I will delete those comments; I won’t be censored on my own blog. I have rarely ever done that in my 10 years of blogging.

After getting some good feedback, both here, and from someone else I respect, “offline,” I have decided to keep blogging right here at growrag.wordpress.com. I won’t be moving to Patheos, for a variety of reasons.

Thanks again for the good feedback. And don’t feel slighted if I didn’t go with your advice 🙂 .

Yes, what do you think? If you read here please let me know. I am in the process of trying to get my paperwork into them, but it is harder than it seems since I don’t have a scanner or fax machine … so I have to go somewhere else to use a fax. Anyway, I would like to get your feedback on this move, even if you just lurk here. Let me know what you think about me moving to Patheos. I have had one reader and long time friend of the blog and me, let me know that he does not think it is the best of moves (i.e. because of commercialization, because it might make Evangelical Calvinism look “gimmicky” etc). Let me know what you think.

The Evangelical Calvinist blog (this one) is in the process of transitioning into being a Patheos blog (and part of that network). I am getting all of my paper work in, and I would imagine that in the next few days or so (week?) when you try to come here you will be redirected to The Evangelical Calvinist over at Patheos at its new url etc.

I will provide an update when the time comes for the actual transition. Make sure to stay with me as this transition happens! Thank  you faithful readers!

I am going to cross post between my blog here and Medium. Medium, I am realizing is just another type of social media, like Facebook (with more space), to get exposure for stuff you write. Most of you aren’t following me over there, and I don’t blame you (it is more cumbersome than I realized–It looks like you have to actually create a Medium account in order to follow me over there). So just pretend like I never told you about Medium, unless you want to read me over there. Whatever I post here, I will cross post over there, for more exposure.

Thanks for hanging with me. I’m still here for you. I have more than 200 followers here, and hardly any of you came over with me to Medium. Plus, I didn’t realize you couldn’t really make comments on Medium (which is cheesy).