God’s Wrath in the Theology of Karl Barth: The Theologian’s Theologian

Karl Barth is often accused (erroneously so) of being a liberal theologian. This mistakenly happens under the neo-orthodox label, as if, at best, maybe a soft form of theological liberalism. And yet, Barth is more critical of theological liberalism than most of the so-called Reformed and Lutheran critics of Barth in the 21st century. Barth was more intimately related to, and formed by the mediating and liberal theologians, in direct ways, much beyond his critics today (and yesterday). The whole premise of Barth’s radical shift was in response to what he finally perceived as theological slop, in regard to the theological liberalism he had been trained under. He realized, famously, from his pulpit in Safenwil, that the theological pablum he had been fed in his university training, was just that. It had no real power, no grist or grit in the face of the fallout produced by WW1. As a result, he famously took such theology to task, initially, in his commentary on Romans (Der Römerbrief), and finally, in his Church Dogmatics.

What I want to highlight in this brief article is how false the aforementioned is. Barth, whilst radically, or consistently, following the Protestant Scripture Principle, brought critique against both theological liberalism, scholasticism Reformed, and much of the medieval harvest, that all, just the same, promoted portraits of God that ran afoul of the simple teaching and witness found in Holy Scripture. In this instance, in the example I am culling forward for this article, you will see how Barth might even sound like a conservative Reformed theologian of today (okay, I’m stretching that—he’s better). Here we see Barth’s commentary on God’s wrath:

To the critics of the term “wrath of God” and especially A. Ritschl (Rechtf. u. Vers., II, § 16 f.) were quite wrong when they said that “wrath” is not a quality or activity or attitude which can be explained in the light of God’s being, or brought into harmony with His love and grace. In reply to this criticism we have to say plainly that the grace of God would not be grace if it were separated from the holiness in which God causes only His own and therefore His good will to prevail and be done, holding aloof from and opposing everything that is contrary to it, judging and excluding and destroying everything that resists it. And grace would not be free grace if it were bound to any single form of its appearance and manifestation, if God always had to show Himself monotonously as “love,” or what we think of as love, if He were not permitted to negate that which has to be negated, if He could not conceal Himself when He is resisted, revealing His grace only in the alien form of unwillingness and wrath. Above all, grace would not be grace, the serious and effective address of God to man, the effective establishment of fellowship with him, if God did not oppose man’s opposition to Himself, if He left man to go his own way unaccused and uncondemned and unpunished, if He ignored the miserable pride of man, if the man of sin had nothing to fear from Him, if it were not a fearful thing to fall into His hands (Heb. 12.29). That His grace would not be grace without His judgment is just as true as the supposed opposite with which it is indissolubly connected, that there is no holiness of God which can be separated from His grace, and therefore no wrath of God—this is something which, unfortunately, A. Ritschl did not even remotely understand—that can be anything other than the redemptive fire of His love, which has its final and proper work in the fact that for our sake, for the sake of man fallen in sin and guilt, He did not spare His only Son.[1]

Let it be known, I don’t care whether or not Barth is palatable to the so-called conservative Reformed and Lutheran theologians of today. But let it also be observed that Barth is no churlish reader and receiver of the Reformed tradition such that he simply discards with what might sound offensive to the Romantic’s and Rationalist’s eardrums. Barth is a Bible reader. As a result, he attempts to do his theology in light of Scripture’s reality (res), Jesus Christ. As the passage illustrates, Barth understands God’s grace (and love) from within the context of God’s Self-revelation as that comes for us in His dearly beloved Son.

This isn’t so much an apology for Barth (in fact I repudiate such things), as it is a call for people to be good theologians. Don’t let foreign limiting factors enter into the theological task, such that said factors delimit the Word of God of being the only source and ground for the outworking of a genuinely Christian theology. In the aforementioned from Barth, we have an example of this type of outworking in the context of his rebuttal of a mediating (liberal) theologian Albrecht Ritschl. And yet, de jure, the basis upon which Barth reads a constructively christologically conditioned notion of God’s wrath, against, in this case, Ritschl, applies catholically across the board and all around to every period of theological development; into the present and forthcoming.

[1] Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics IV/1 §60 [490] The Doctrine of Reconciliation: Study Edition (London: T&T Clark, 2010), 131.

As a Narrative Theologian You Pray, You Worship, You Write

I prefer doing narratival theology. Why? Because to me it is the most organic expression of a dialogical theology. What is a dialogical theology? It is a theology where you’re constantly in prayer, in dialog with the One who has made and re-made us in Jesus Christ. It is a theology where you aren’t waiting to be participant or partaker with the divine nature, but actively keeping in step with that as the reality of the Christian daily existence. Narratival theology remains an open form. One that reflects a stream of worship, meditation, and con-versation with God, who is Father of the Son by the Holy Spirit. Dialogical theology operates from within the center of God’s life in Christ; it is greater than the written word, but not lesser. As such it can be written for the Church’s edification; indeed, grounded in the experience of Christ’s lived life, His vicarious humanity for us. So, a narratival theology as the expression of a dialogical theology is a highly personalist and experiential theology. But it isn’t a rationalist or romanticist theology insofar that the experience of God isn’t grounded in each one of us abstractly, but in God the Son’s experience for us in His archetypal and greater Adamic humanity for us.

As a narratival thelogian you simply pray, you worship, you participate in the triune life and the communio sanctorum (communion of the saints), and then write and speak upon it for others; for purposes of edification of the body of Christ writ large.

” . . . the illusion of an abstract monotheism”

There is no God, but the One God; and we know this One God by the Son of God made flesh in the humanity of Jesus Christ. This One God is not known any other way. He is not known by the philosophers nor made known by the philosopher-theologians. He is only and ever centrally known as He has freely made Himself Self-known in the face of Jesus Christ by the Holy Spirit; indeed, He would have no face for us without the Holy Spirit. The genuinely Christian God is One (de Deo uno) in Three (de Deo trino), Three in One in eternal koinonia from His a se existence. It is by the humility of this God, as exemplified by the free obedience of the Son in the Father by the Holy Spirit, whereby this God becomes known. The theological Philistines have attempted to reason their way to this God, but only because they first became aware of this God by this God’s Self-revelation; even as inchoate in His mediated presence through the Hebrews. In other words, it was only ever because of this triune God’s gracious stooping to the sons of men that the notion of One God was contrived in the first place. And the mesmerizing thing about this God is that He has always already been vulnerable enough in His inner and triune life to make this impossible a possibility; that is, to be willing to be made known, even with the possibility of being mistaken for some type of mechanistic simple Monad of the brutish thinkers. Even so, this God has contradicted such triteness; even by Him becoming obedient to the point of death, even the death of the Roman cross. There is no space for the monadic on the scandalous cross; this God is altogether too complex to be imagined, even in the greatest of the philosophical imaginaries among us. This God, the triune and eternal God, who is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, in perichoretic bondedness, has taken on human blood in His own humanity as the Son of Man, Jesus Christ.

Someone else gets at the aforementioned much more eloquently thusly:

As we look at Jesus Christ we cannot avoid the astounding conclusion of a divine obedience. Therefore we have to draw the no less astounding deduction that in equal Godhead the one God is, in fact, the One and also the Another, that He is indeed a First and a Second, One who rules and commands in majesty and One who obeys in humility. The one God is both the one and the other. And, we continue, he is the one and the other without any cleft or differentiation but in perfect unity and equality because in the same perfect unity and equality he is also a Third, the One who affirms the one and equal Godhead through and by and in the two modes of being, the One who makes possible and maintains His fellowship with Himself as the one and the other. In virtue of this third mode of being He is in the other two without division or contradiction, the whole God in each. But again in virtue of this third mode of being He is in neither for itself and apart from the other, but in each in its relationship to the other, and therefore, in fact, in the totality, the connexion, the interplay, the history of these relationships. And because all division and contradiction is excluded, there is also excluded any striving to identify the two modes of being, or any possibility of the one being absorbed by the other, or both in their common deity. God is God in these two modes of being which cannot be separated, which cannot be autonomous, but which cannot cease to be different. He is God in their concrete relationships the one to the other, in the history which takes place between them. He is God only in these relationships of its modes of being, which is neutral towards them. This neutral Godhead, this pure and empty Godhead, and its claim to be true divinity, is the illusion of an abstract “monotheism” which usually fools men most successfully at the high-water mark of the development of heathen religions and mythologies and philosophies. The true and living God is the One whose Godhead consists in this history, who is in these three modes of being the One God, the Eternal, the Almighty, the Holy, the Merciful, the One who loves in His freedom and is free in His love.[1]

Well said, Uncle; well said.

Please notice maybe an almost unnoticed profundity when Barth refers to the history that obtains between and in and among the fellowship of the triune persons. It is within this space, this Father-Son-by-the-Holy Spirit relationship wherein all of human history and being takes place; indeed, as the electing God, the elected Man, the eternal Logos, the Son of God, graciously and freely chose to become us that we, by that act and actualism of Grace, might become human before God. It is His history, within His own Self-predestined and inner-triune life, whereby the creation obtains; wherein the redemption, the recreation, the elevation of humanity occurs. Just as the Son, before the foundation of the world, is freely Logos incarnandus (‘the Word to be incarnate’), it is within this freedom of God’s life by which the whole created order finds its determination. This, in the Eschaton, in the final and consummate reality actualized, and finally realized, is how it is that humanity becomes and is sustained as humanity simpliciter. That is by God’s freedom, by the obedience and humility intrinsic to the life of God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, within the mysterium Trinitatis, by which anything, not least of which, humanity, exists at all; as worshippers and witnesses of their very life before God, by God, in God by the Spirit anointed humanity of the free God, the Son of Man, the Man from Nazareth, the Son in the bosom of the Father, Jesus Christ.

[1] Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics IV/1 §59 [203] The Doctrine of Reconciliation: Study Edition (London: T&T Clark, 2010), 196.

You Have a Hermeneutic, Did You Know That? Probably Not.

The online and non-online Christian world is occupied by interminable and ongoing debates with reference to both theological and exegetical conclusions vis-à-vis an a priori, yet typically, uncritically received hermeneutical framework. And even if this or that person claims this or that theological framework, say a Calvinism or Arminianism, a Hellenism or Hegelianism, an asserted literal biblical hermeneutic or allegorical/spiritual, so on and so forth, there is almost zero discourse having to do with the ideas that stand behind said frameworks. That is, there is little to no awareness about the informing ideas and intellectual histories that have given rise to the array of hermeneutical expressions that we live with today. Indeed, there is this type of uncritical non-self-reflective reception of whatever hermeneutic said person receives and deploys in their respective engagement with the text of Holy Scripture, and its reality in Jesus Christ (I just snuck some of my hermeneutic in right here).

What I am primarily referring to, particularly on the theological side, is a prolegomenon. A prolegomenon, especially when the student flips open a systematic theology book, is often the first section of said book. It is explaining the theologian’s theological methodology and the various theological-intellectual priors they are utilizing to arrive at their respective theological conclusions vis-à-vis the array of theological loci that typically populates a systematic theology. But even among the theologians who present a prolegomenon for their systematic theologies, respectively, they often simply reveal that they too have uncritically received a particular style of a so-called ‘classical-theistic’ commitment. That is to say, this or that theologian often will give the company lines as their prolegomenon; and as far as that goes, that can be helpful for the reader, in terms of knowing what to expect. But even at this level if the theologian is just repeating what has been handed down for the centuries, within their respective theological “group,” all they end up doing, ironically, is modeling a way to uncritically receive, rinse, and repeat a theological methodology that has been cleanly packaged for them by their prior giants. This model for doing theology is not helpful in my view, and only ends up contributing to the perpetuation of what I was referring to in my above paragraph for this article.

So, it might seem like I’m griping just to gripe. But I want to suggest something. I want to suggest that all theologians and biblical exegetes need to spend the time criticizing their own received interpretive traditions, their hermeneutics, respectively, and consider their source and synthesis. In other words, be sure, as a theology or Bible reader and doer, that you, the theologian, spend the time looking at what is informing your theological and exegetical conclusions. Make sure, in other words, that you understand the theological ontology and subsequent epistemology that stands behind and informs the way you think theologically in general. Ask the question: does my theological methodology (hermeneutic) have a ground in the heavenlies, in the ascended Christ, or does it only have an earthly and abstract fount of knowledge? In other words, consider whether or not your theological methodology has a genuinely Christian ground, and one that works from the interior theo-logic presented by the implications of the incarnation of God in Christ, or if it only reflects a prior logic deduced from the abstract and speculative ratiocinations of a naked humanity; one that relies on philosophical witticism rather than Christian revelation.

Without this type of self-criticism and deep self-engagement, as far as understanding what stands behind and within our theological and exegetical conclusions, theological discourse will only continue to go by the bye. Now, I am not so naïve to think my exhortation here will fall on ripe ears, per se; at least not in general. But what I am hoping is that by at least highlighting this matter it might have the effect of waking some folks up. Maybe they have never even stopped to consider that they have a hermeneutic; that they have prior theological and philosophical commitments informing their respective conclusions. I think this issue plagues most of the Church; not just among the laity, but the “specialists” alike. And until people recognize this fact, they will continue to frustratingly bang their heads against their interlocutor’s walls.

The Tomb of Christian Revelation Juxtaposed with the Vapors of Metaphysics

There is no abstract conceptual apparatus by which we can know the Christian God. Knowledge of God is absolutely contingent on God’s free Self-revelation in Jesus Christ. This is the only way as Christians that we know God; as the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He has descended to us in the real garb of a flesh and blood human; as a Jew from Nazareth. And His reception in Mary’s womb was made fertile by the millennia of preparation for His first coming as the Holy Spirit hovered over the Hebrews.

None of the above requires augmentation by way of appeal to and appropriation of foreign and abstract metaphysics. The Christ child came in the wood of the manger; died on the wood of the cross; and rose again from the rock of the tomb. These are all concrete and particular materials that have no correspondence with the ethereal of the philosophers, per se.

‘The Faith of Christ’ in Contradiction to the gods of the Metaphysicians

What hath Jerusalem to do with Athens? A question from the days of Tertullian, and now down through the centuries. I would vociferously argue that Jerusalem must condition Athens in such a way that Athens becomes nothing more than a pretext to be used by the textuality of God’s life Self-revealed for the church and world in Jesus Christ. This question of “faith and reason” has been given many iterations and treatments throughout the halls of history, whether that be from someone as boisterous as Martin Luther, or someone as methodologically skeptical as Rene Descartes. Indeed, the reformational scholastics themselves, and their progeny, even into the repristinate of today, ostensibly maintain that the metaphysics of the classical Greek philosophers is in fact univocal towards thinking and speaking the Christian God.

I protest, and so does Eberhard Jüngel:

The faith which interposes such questions is a disturbance. But should not faith be seen as a disturber of the metaphysical thought of God, as even its greatest menace? Was it not necessary that a study of religion within the boundaries of pure reason would have to come to the aid of the metaphysical concept of God in order to reduce the all too human discourse about a God who reveals himself in history to a rational level? Did not faith have to be subordinated to that morality which was established without faith, if it were not to become irrational in and of itself and thus be dead?

But then faith will reply with the question whether it really is such a rational capacity that a theoretical or practical use of reason, separate from the event of faith, can prescribe reason’s function. What becomes of God when an abstract “I think” or an abstract “thou shalt” sets the context from the outset within which one then may and must decide what merits being called God? Although the intention to maintain the strictest possible distinction between God and man cannot be supported too strongly by theology, does not this approach lead to a result which is totally opposed to that intention? And finally, if God has been established as the securing factor for man, has not then the decision been already made that from now on the securing must become the god of man? Is not ultimately the categorical imperative the grand attempt to establish the morally understood security of the human race as its highest good? If “nothing can possibly be conceived in the world, or even out of it, which can be called good without qualification, except a good will,” then does not the good will which secures the welfare of the human race become the god of man?[1]

Prior to the above passage Juengal has been discussing how certainty and non-certainty might work within a theological and philosophical frame vis-à-vis God. Without getting into the details, for our purposes, the questions Juengal puts to the God constructed from classical and modern metaphysical premises are sufficient. Sufficient, for drawing attention to the fact that faith itself, if indeed it has to do with a genuine knowledge of the genuine and triune God of the Christians, has its starting point insofar as God starts with us first; that is, rather than us starting with God first. Is Christian faith intended to provide a provision of self-security in a seemingly insecure world for its own sake (something like a ‘god-of-the-gaps’)? Or is Christian faith purely focused upon knowledge of God that is focused on God as God, as God is in Himself as the reality who indeed is to be worshipped simply because He is, as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit? Well of course, the Christian should want to say the latter rather than the former. But methodologically so much of Christian theology, one way or the other, no matter how much piety and piousness is on display, has given way to thinking God only after God has first been thought by the profane mind. Indeed, the mind that is ultimately seeking a huge scratch for the itch of uncertainties, for the chaos that this world presents each and everyone of us with upon our respective arrivals on planet earth.

I think the moral here is that God’s Self-revelation is categorically distinct, in a sui generis type of way, from the metaphysics. That is, knowledge of God for the Christian entails a vulnerability. But the vulnerability isn’t about assuaging our own anxieties about the ostensible disorder of the world, and our place in it. The vulnerability is that we don’t have the capacity to disentangle ourselves from the chaos of this world order; no matter what type of metaphysical structures we might build in that very attempt. The genuine vulnerability we have is that without being rightly positioned within the order that God has set about, we indeed will seek to create our own veritable towers of Babel; reaching up to a certainty of reality that ultimately has to do with ensuring a salvation for ourselves rather than being reliant upon the One who can actually provide us with a true and rightly ordered salvation, as that obtains in Godself for us in Jesus Christ. And it is this, this faith of Christ, that confronts the metaphysically construed gods, who seek a faith built upon its own internal premises, rather than the alien premises of faith provided for, truly, by the living God for us in Jesus Christ.

[1] Eberhard Jüngel, God as the Mystery of the World, trans. by Darrell L. Guder (Eugene, Oregon: Wipf&Stock [reprint], 1983), 195–96.

‘To the Sewer with Them!’: On Christian Vocation

The Christian place of vocation has been given its famous Protestant explication by Martin Luther. But not to be outdone, Karl Barth, has his own offering on the subject. Here he is writing on, in a small print excursus, what ultimately matters as the Christian lives coram Deo (before God).

As an instructive example, we may cite the verdict of August Bebel (Die Frau und der Sozialismus, ed. 1913, 1,409 f.): “Strictly speaking, the worker who drains sewers to protect humanity from unhealthy miasmas is a very useful member of society, whereas the professor who teaches falsified history in the interests of the ruling class, or the theologian who seeks to befog the brain with supernatural, transcendental doctrines, is an extremely harmful individual.” We must be careful not to be guilty of what is here stated to be the activity of theologians, and if we cannot do better than this we should make all haste to become good drainers of sewers. Similarly, if the professor of history cannot do better than teach history which is falsified in the interests of a class, to the sewers with him also![1]

With reference to the theologians, per Barth, to the sewer with them if all they have to offer the church, the people of God, is speculative metaphysical non-sense that has no contact with the concrete reality of God for us in the Man from Nazareth, Jesus Christ.

Part of my aim through my ongoing writings is to bring truly theological theology to the people of God. To let them know that to be a theologian is to be a worshipper of the triune God, as God has Self-revealed and explained Himself to us in Jesus Christ. That when we see Christ, we see the Father. And that it is from this filial kerygmatic point of contact that the Christian can genuinely know and speak God; indeed, from the heart of God for us, in Jesus Christ. If the Christian desires to know God ever deeper, and if they attempt to read the theologians in this pursuit, and all they find is a notion of Godness that is indeed constructed on a speculative, discursive model of human and philosophical reasoning, then to the sewer with such theologians; they have indeed failed their calling to edify the body of Christ.

As far as vocation goes, in general, the Christian has ultimate purpose in all they say and do, insofar that they bear witness to their Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ and the triune God. And this holds true whether someone is a plumber, or the head of the theology department at the most prestigious divinity school in the land.

[1] Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics III/4 §55 [534] The Doctrine of Creation: Study Edition (London: T&T Clark, 2010), 202.

‘Always Reforming’

All Christian theology, 𝑑𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑟𝑒, is eschatological. This is what makes space for 𝑒𝑐𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑎, 𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑢𝑚 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑏𝑖 𝑑𝑒𝑖 (“reformed and always being reformed according to the Word of God”). Selah

Grok’s Synopsis On How Barth Influences the Development of My Own Theological Project

I asked Grok to characterize and summarize Barth’s influence on my own theology. I rather like its response:

Bobby Grow, a theologian and blogger, has developed a distinctive approach to Evangelical Calvinism that draws heavily from Karl Barth’s theological framework. This influence manifests in Grow’s emphasis on a Christ-centered critique of classical Reformed theology, prioritizing God’s self-revelation in Jesus Christ over speculative metaphysics or natural theology. Grow’s work, including his 2022 ThD dissertation on assurance and knowledge of God in Calvinist thought, reflects Barth’s impact by reorienting Calvinist themes through a relational, dialogical lens inspired by Barth’s Church Dogmatics and his rejection of abstract philosophical constructs of God.

At the core of Barth’s influence on Grow is the concept of “dialogical theology,” which Grow describes as a “talking-theology” rather than a “thinking-theology.” This approach starts from God’s immediate address to humanity in Christ, bypassing foundationalist philosophies that Grow sees as dominating neo-classical theism. Grow contrasts this with speculative methods, arguing that true theology emerges from encounter with the living God, echoing Barth’s insistence on God’s freedom and primacy in revelation. For instance, Grow highlights Barth’s ethics built on the Great Commandment, emphasizing freedom for God and others as determined by Christ’s Word, which aligns with Grow’s own evangelical impulses.

Grow frequently engages Barth’s critiques of natural theology and metaphysical “gods,” applying them to contemporary issues like New Age ideologies or Protestant scholasticism. In one post, Grow discusses Barth’s interaction with Mary Baker Eddy and Christian Science, using it to warn against inward-curved self-salvation narratives, which he ties to Barth’s emphasis on God’s “militant Grace” breaking in from outside (extra nos). This reflects Grow’s adoption of Barth’s Kantian and Feuerbachian influences to dismantle anthropocentric theologies, favoring instead a theology of the cross inspired by Barth and Martin Luther.

Barth’s reshaping of doctrines like election and predestination also permeates Grow’s thought. Grow references Pierre Maury’s impact on Barth, noting how it led to a Christological revision of election that avoids traces of natural theology or philosophical abstraction. This informs Grow’s broader critique of Reformed traditions, where he argues Barth offers a more evangelical resource than Protestant orthodoxy, resonating with figures like Thomas F. Torrance. Grow contends that evangelicals retrieving scholasticism overlook Barth’s alignment with biblical immediacy and relationality.

Overall, Barth’s theology provides Grow with tools to advocate for an “Athanasian Reformed” perspective, emphasizing Christ’s vicarious humanity and the Trinity’s onto-relational life. Grow’s prolific blogging and posts often defend Barth against caricatures, positioning him as a modern Athanasius who prioritizes the concreteness of God’s revelation in Christ over rationalist or pietist alternatives.

This influence has shaped Grow’s identity as a theologian committed to evangelical fidelity while challenging inherited orthodoxies.

Reading Romans 1 Against Natural Theology

18 For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men who suppress the truth in unrighteousness, 19 because that which is known about God is evident within them; for God made it evident to them. 20 For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse. 21 For even though they knew God, they did not honor Him as God or give thanks, but they became futile in their speculations, and their foolish heart was darkened. 22 Professing to be wise, they became fools, 23 and exchanged the glory of the incorruptible God for an image in the form of corruptible man and of birds and four-footed animals and crawling creatures. –Romans 1.18–22

The above pericope has been used as the locus classicus for those who want to argue for a ‘natural theology,’ in regard to a theological methodology. That is, for anyone interested in promoting the idea that the triune Christian God can be liminally known simply by reflecting on the effects of nature; indeed, as those are reasoned back to their first cause (in a chain-of-being knowledge and casual schemata), in the cause of all causes, who just is God. But New Testament exegete, Jason Staples, argues something much more biblical,

In contrast to the standard Jewish polemical argument that Israel has been set apart from the theologically ignorant pagans by the reception of the Torah, the account of Rom I: I8–32 “offers a completely distinct explanation.” In Paul’s account, Kathy Gaca explains, the idolaters are “not theologically blind outsiders but something far more reprehensible in biblical terms. They are knowledgeable about God . . . yet have become rebels.” This is not a minor change. Right from the start, the alert reader familiar with traditional Jewish polemics will be startled by the assertion that “what is knowable about God is revealed among them, for God has revealed it to them” (I:19). Since when has the knowledge of God been revealed among the pagans? Is not the knowledge of God granted through the Torah the very thing that has set Israel apart?

Unlike Wisdom’s ignorant idolaters who failed to realize the knowledge of God through extrapolating from creation to creator, Paul tells a narrative in which the explicit revelation from creator to creation is realized but rejected. As such, like Adam, the subjects of Romans are “without excuse” or “indefensible” . . . precisely because they knew better and rebelled against the revelation of God. Not only did they have access to divine revelation, the “understood” . . . the “unseen things.” . . . Rom I:18–32 does not speak “of people who should have known God’s attributes through the creation around them” but rather of people who did know God’s attributes through the revelation God gave them. By implication, the knowledge of God and divine revelation is not in fact a safeguard against impiety and sin as Wisdom suggests (I5:2) but rather is the very reason the revels of Rom I stand without excuse for impiety and injustice. In Johnathan Linbaugh’s words, “Wisdom’s polemics targets idiots; Paul aims at apostates.”[1]

Staples’ argument is much more involved than the passage I just shared from him. But it serves our purposes precisely at the point that it signals an alternative, and more biblical way, to exegete Romans 1. It isn’t and thus shouldn’t be used as THE prooftext for giving natural theology the biblical ground it so desires; that it so needs, to be hip to the “catholic” groove. On this occasion Paul is making a particular argument vis-à-vis the relationship between the Jews and the Church (as given further development and climax in chptrs. 9—11). The underlying point of Romans 1, in Staples exegesis, is that it isn’t a naked creation that holds the vestiges by which the Christian God can be known; even if only discursively. Instead, as Staples shows latterly, Romans 1, as apiece with the following context in chapters 2—3, is written in order to reinforce the judgement that the Jew (which in itself is a complicated designation in the Pauline theology), and that the world, mediated by the ones who should have known through God’s Self-revelation as attested to in Holy Scripture, in the Torah, in particular, should have come to know and submitted to.

Staples’ argument resonates deeply with my own sense on this passage, relative to the notion that God has only ever really been known personally, and even generally (because how else would a personal God be known?), through God’s intentional and personal revelation first presented to the Jews in the Torah. To the Jew first, then the Greek.

[1] Jason A. Staples, Paul and the Resurrection of Israel: Jews, Former Gentiles, Israelites (United Kingdom: Cambridge University Press, 2024), 118–19.