Category Archives: Theology Of The Cross

On a Crucifixional ‘Certainty’ of Faith as Knowledge of God: With Reference to Herbert McCabe

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Herbert McCabe on the certainty of the Christian reality (contra wishful thinking, so on and so forth):

Now there are some people who will admit even this. They will admit that Christianity is reasonable even in this sense, that it is not merely logically coherent, but also a pretty reasonable hypothesis. They will admit that there is a lot of evidence of one kind and another to suggest that Christian beliefs are true, just as there is a lot of evidence of one kind and another to suggest that telepathy is quite common or that Queen Elizabeth I was in love with Essex. What they find so unreasonable in Christians is that, instead of saying that Christianity is highly probable, they claim to be completely certain. When you do establish something by this kind of probable and convergent argument, you have every right to hold it as your opinion, but you have no right to claim absolute certainty and to be sure that you will never meet a genuine refutation of it. This is what finally seems unreasonable about faith to the openminded liberal sceptic. And here I can agree with him. In this sense I am prepared to admit that you might call faith unreasonable.

It is not unreasonable in the sense that it is absurd or incoherent. Nor is it unreasonable in the sense that there are not good reasons for it. But it is, if you like, unreasonable in that it demands a certainty which is not warranted by the reasons. I am completely certain that I am in Oxford at the moment. I have all the evidence I need for certainty on this point. It is true that I admit the logical possibility that I may be drugged or dreaming or involved in some extraordinarily elaborate deception. But this doesnā€™t really affect my certainty. Yet the evidence which makes it reasonable to hold, for example, that Christ rose from the dead comes nowhere near this kind of evidence. One might say that the evidence is spite of all probability does really seem to point to this fantastic conclusion, but it is certainly not the kind of evidence which makes me quite sure and certain. And yet I am more certain that Christ rose from the dead than I am that I am in Oxford. When it comes to my being there, I am prepared to accept the remote possibility that I am the victim of an enormous practical joke. But I am not prepared to envisage any possibility of deception about the resurrection. Of course I can easily envisage my argument for the resurrection being disposed of. I can envisage myself being confronted by what is seems to me to be unanswerable arguments against it. But this is not the same thing. I am prepared to envisage myself ceasing to believe in it, but I am not prepared to envisage either that there really are unanswerable arguments against it or that I would be justified in ceasing to believe it. All this is because, although reasons may lead me to belief, they are not the basis of my belief. I believe certain things because God has told them to me, and I am able to believe them with certainty and complete assurance only because of the divine life within me. It is a gift of God that I believe, not something I can achieve by human means.[1]

As a Christian, full of the Spirit, doesnā€™t McCabeā€™s thinking resonate with you? It certainly has resonance with the thinking of Barth on faith, and Christā€™s faith for us as we find correspondence with His and from His by the Holy Spirit. It isnā€™t that there is no physical or historical evidence for such things, itā€™s that it goes way beyond such parameters. It isnā€™t that it is some type of existential foray into the mystical; indeed, as that might be generated by an abstract humanā€™s innards. It is that God has made concrete contact with us through the interior life of His life for us, with us, and in us, in Christ. McCabe isnā€™t referring to some sort of epistemic certainty that satisfies our base hopes. Instead, He is referring to the triune Godā€™s unilateral Self-determination to bring us, to elevate us into the very heart of His inner life; to share in the glory that the Son has always already shared with the Father by the Holy Spirit. This type of certainty of relationship comes with an inherent vulnerability to it, of the sort wherein a child is dependent upon their parent. This knowledge of God, of our relationship with Him, comes with a desperateness to it; of the type where the Christian knows that they know that they donā€™t continue to stand without their Father standing for them in the Son, the Savior of the world. It is a primordial situation wherein we just show up in this world, and our Father graciously comes to us, as if a babe tossed into the weeds and dust of the wastelands, picks us up, cleans us up, and brings us into the eternal life spring that is showering forth from the One in the bosom of the Father; indeed, in the Son.

I take what McCabe is referring to as a ā€˜taste and see that God is good,ā€™ or an Anselmian fides quaerens intellectum (ā€˜faith seeking understandingā€™) mode of being. And as I already noted, there is a primordiality to all of this. That is to say, as Barthā€™s theology does, that the Christian has entered into a new creation in the resurrected humanity of Jesus Christ. We are on a new playing field wherein the eyes to see the invisible as the concrete, are the eyes of the faith of Christ that we have come into union with by the grace of adoption into the family and triune life of the eternal and living God. Barth scholar Robert Dale Dawson communicates these truths in the following way, with reference to Barthā€™s theology of the resurrection (Iā€™ve used this quote multiple times because I think it is helpful towards piercing into what Barth is after throughout his theological oeuvre):

A large number of analyses come up short by dwelling upon the historical question, often falsely construing Barthā€™s inversion of the order of the historical enterprise and the resurrection of Jesus as an aspect of his historical skepticism. For Barth the resurrection of Jesus is not aĀ datumĀ of the sort to be analyzed and understood, by other data, by means of historical critical science. While a real event within the nexus of space and time the resurrection is also the event of the creation of new time and space. Such an event can only be described as an act of God; that is an otherwise impossible event. The event of the resurrection of Jesus is that of the creation of the conditions of the possibility for all other events, and as such it cannot be accounted for in terms considered appropriate for all other events. This is not the expression of an historical skeptic, but of one who is convinced of the primordiality of the resurrection as the singular history-making, yet history-delimiting, act of God.[2]

According to Barth, and I think the Gospel implications themselves, we are not thinking of reality in terms of a grace perfecting nature or a revelation perfecting reason (ironically, McCabe is a Thomist, but uniquely so); we are thinking from the new theo-logic that comes from a city not of our own making or machination. As Christians, and I see this in McCabeā€™s thinking, our bases for knowing God come from an otherworldly, that is indeed thisworldly reality. As such, we have a certainty about it in the ways already noted, but also in a way that this world considers both foolish and weak. There is a staurological (crucifixional) ground to this type of thinking that understands that knowledge of God comes first from a putting to death of what we consider ā€œreasonable,ā€ by our inborn lights, and a resurrection unto a new creation wherein what is reasonable is only determined by Godā€™s pre-destination for His consummate and concrete Kingdom to come, and currently coming minute-by-minute. amen

[1] Herbert McCabe, Faith Within Reason (London: Continuum, 2007), 28ā€“9.

[2] Robert Dale Dawson, The Resurrection in Karl BarthĀ (UK: Ashgate Publishing Company, 2007), 13.

Being a Christian as a Theologian: Against the Profession[al] Theologians

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44Ā Then Moses came and spoke all the words of this song in the hearing of the people, he, with Joshua the son of Nun.Ā 45Ā When Moses had finished speaking all these words to all Israel,Ā 46Ā he said to them, ā€œTake to your heart all the words with which I am warning you today, which you shall commandĀ your sons to observeĀ [r]carefully,Ā evenĀ all the words of this law.Ā 47Ā For it is not an idle word for you; indeedĀ it is your life. AndĀ by this word you will prolong your days in the land,Ā which you are about to cross the Jordan toĀ possess.ā€ Deuteronomy 32:44-47

7Ā For not one of usĀ lives for himself, and not one dies for himself;Ā 8Ā for if we live, we live for the Lord, or if we die, we die for the Lord; thereforeĀ whether we live or die, we are the Lordā€™s.Ā 9Ā For to this endĀ Christ died and lived again, that He might beĀ Lord both of the dead and of the living. Romans 14:7-9

31Ā Whether, then, you eat or drink orĀ whatever you do, do all to the glory of God. I Corinthians 10:31

Therefore if you have beenĀ raised up with Christ, keep seeking the things above, where Christ is,Ā seated at the right hand of God.Ā 2Ā Set your mind on the things above, not on the things that are on earth.Ā 3Ā For you haveĀ died and your life is hidden with Christ in God.Ā 4Ā When Christ,Ā who is our life, is revealed,Ā then you also will be revealed with Him in glory. Colossians 3:1-4

Many other passages could be adduced; but these should suffice for our purposes. I simply wanted to reinforce the notion that to be a genuine Christian theologian is really to be a growing and moving disciple of Jesus Christ. I have come across theologians out there who treat being a ā€œtheologianā€ like itā€™s a profession; of the type that you clock in and out of. These are mainly academic theologians, or pastors who look at what they do as a discipline, or again, as a profession that they do, at points of the day, and then donā€™t do at other points of the day. I donā€™t actually take this mode of existence, though, to be an iteration of a genuinely Christian theologian. A genuine Christian theologian is someone who understands the gravitas of what the Christian life or existence entails. That is, the Christian theologian understands that all that they do, and are, is consumed by God, who is a jealous God. They understand that they arenā€™t their own, but have been bought with a price; the price of the blood of Jesus Christ. They recognize they can do nothing apart from the True Vine, and that their lives always have the gift and the burden upon it to represent the Christ, who is their life, to their families, the church, and the world. This type of existence isnā€™t one where you take your theologian hat off, and put your weekend warrior hat on; so on and so forth. To be a Christian theologian is a totalizing way of life; again, consumed by the One Who is our life: Jesus Christ in the triune God. Being a Christian theologian isnā€™t merely a ā€œlifestyle,ā€ but it is indeed to live life, coram Deo. Being a Christian theologian isnā€™t a performance we manufacture for others; but it is instead, an existence wherein we are constantly bearing witness to the hope that is within us, for us, and for the world. Being a Christian theologian involves constant labor, motored by the resurrection power of Jesus Christ; indeed, as that power is breathed into our lives, afresh anew, moment-by-moment, in and through the Holy Spirit. Being a Christian theologian isnā€™t primarily tinctured by being one of the ā€˜schoolmenā€™; instead, being a Christian theologian entails a life of deovtio Christi via participatio Christi. Being a Christian theologian is simply the Christian existence, it is the Christian life before God; from God, in participation with God unto all time and eternity.

I have grown weary of the so-called professional theologians. There is no love or passion of Christ there, for the most part. It is a manual-Christianity wherein the performer walks through the hoops of what being a professional theologian entails. There is a theology of glory underneath the professional theologiansā€™ vector; you know ā€œpublish or perish.ā€ The CV is king, and it is used as the reduction of the personsā€™ life within the professional guild of the theologians. A person, in fact, doesnā€™t even need to be an actual Christian to be a professional ā€œChristianā€ theologian. A professional theologian is considered a better theologian if they are dispassionate, and discursively removed from the panoply of the lowly regular people Christians out there. For the professional theologian there is a premium placed on the intellect, and its force of brute power while it sits in the room at the annual theological conference[s].

Would Jesus, the Apostles, and Christians who have simply lived life before God, in and from His passion (and of course, Jesus is Godā€™s passion for the world), as they inhabitatio Dei, be certifiable within the professional theologiansā€™ guild today? I would say not! If the regular Christians of Godā€™s in Christā€™s declension would not be welcomed at the banqueting table of the professional theologians, what is there to say about the professional theologians? Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.

 

23Ā Thus says theĀ Lord, ā€œLet not a wise man boast of his wisdom, and let not theĀ mighty man boast of his might, let not aĀ rich man boast of his riches;Ā 24Ā but let him who boastsĀ boast of this, that he understands and knows Me, that I am theĀ LordĀ whoĀ exercises lovingkindness, justice and righteousness on earth; for IĀ delight in these things,ā€ declares theĀ Lord. Jeremiah 9:23-24

St. Martin Luther, the Christian Humanist Against the Glory Theologians

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Definitions are important; if for no other reason but to understand what something means. Context provides meaning, and thus definition, for words; whether that is in sentences, paragraphs, chapters, books, so on and so forth. When attempting to understand where a particular theologian lies, as far as classification, within the alternative types of being a theologian, it is important that we get a handle on the definitions used to ascertain that. In the medieval period, generally, a theologian could be classified as a scholastic theologian, or a Christian humanist; or potentially, both, depending on the way someone enters into the reconstruction of said history. There are general markers that broadly characterize a scholastic theologian from a Christian humanist theologian. 1) A scholastic theologian was, methodologically, committed to the dialectical methodology. This methodology entailed a presentation of: a) thesis, b) antithesis, c) synthesis. Beyond its formality, more materially, the scholastic was often an Aristotelian, and later, after Thomas Aquinasā€™ synthesis of Aristotle with Christian dogmatics, a Thomist. 2) A Christian humanist theologian was typified by an attempt to ad fontes (go back to the sources, behind the layers and accretions of beliefs the scholastics had developed), with a focus on understanding the original biblical languages (so getting beyond Latin); and by way of methodology, the Christian humanist didnā€™t necessarily attempt to synthesize ideas. The humanist believed, by reference to their set of literary and linguistic and historical tools, that they could arrive at a scenario, when deciding on the validity and soundness of this or that theological loci, that the theologian should be able to say: Yes or No.

The above is the world that Martin Luther, and the magisterial reformers in general, were birthed into. There is argument on whether or not Luther was more scholastic or more humanist in his approach. For my money, Luther, fit more broadly, within the school of the Christian humanists (we could refer to Lorenzo Valla here to underscore the genesis of the humanist way). Some would argue that to drive too hard of a wedge between the scholastics and the humanists in the late medieval and early reformation period, would be to engage in presenting a false dilemma. These folks would prefer that we understand that these ā€œschoolsā€ were not as nice and tidy as we might make them today; that there was an organic crossover between the schools, materials, and methods of the two camps. Be that as it may, Brian Gerrish, via Charles Parteeā€™s engagement, believes Luther fits the Christian humanist, or even the biblical humanist classification; as both a theologian and reformer of the Latin church.

Brian A. Gerrish raises ā€œthe possibility that perhaps Luther may be, indeed should be, classed with the so-called ā€˜Biblical Humanistsā€ [sic] A sounder basis for excluding Luther, not from humanism in general, but from the notion of Christian philosophy in particular, is the fact that Luther insists that philosophy and theology should be carefully distinguished. Luther sees philosophy as the theology of the heathens. With this understanding Luther is less interested in studying philosophy with appreciative intent than others.[1]

Theologically, we might suggest that Lutherā€™s infamous theologia crucis (ā€˜theology of the crossā€™) fits well with the Christian or Biblical humanist orientation. It rejects the philosophical and speculative measures deployed by the theologians of glory, and instead focuses on the concreto of Godā€™s Self-revelation in Jesus Christ; particularly as the character of God is given full magnification in the Sonā€™s ā€œobedience of death, even unto death on the cross.ā€ The theology of the cross, repudiates speculating about a God up yonder, and entrenches itself within the Light of Light of God that is given for the world in Godā€™s life for the world, in the person of God for the world in Jesus Christ.

This type of orientation, as the one we have just ostensibly observed in Luther, is present in someone like John Calvin; and beyond, into the modern period, we see this mood picked up by folks like Karl Barth and Thomas Torrance, respectively. It is this orientation that has drawn me to such theologians. I am, broadly speaking, a proponent of a form of Chrisitan humanism, as described in this post; and as illustrated by a suggestive proposal with reference to St. Martin Luther. So let it be written, so let it be done.

[1] Charles Partee, Calvin and Classical Philosophy (Leiden, Netherlands: E. J. Brill, 1977), 12-13.

The Lion-Lamb God versus the God of Classical Theism and orthodoxies

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I think part of the problem is that there is a lot of theological insecurity out there, so there is a desire to find stability and safe-haven in a bulwark of theological enterprise that has time and development behind it. The problem with that approach, though, is that time isn’t God. A major aspect of the incarnation of God in Christ is the Revelation that God’s stability is filial and vulnerable. There is a sense of vulnerability and nakedness before God that characterizes God’s relationship with us, and thus ours with Him. Attempting to find repose in the God who isn’t just a Lion, but a Lamb crucified, doesn’t always seem that inviting to those who are pressed here and there by the polemical winds of mass theological confusion out there. So, for some Protestants, Reformed or Lutheran orthodoxy seems inviting, even if the theological proper foundation behind said orthodoxy is philosophically based (Thomist-Aristotelian-Scotist) rather than genuinely biblically based.

But this betrays the supposed formal principle of at least the Reformed iteration of reformational theology: i.e., the Scripture Principle. People can claim that the refuge they’ve found in some form of Protestant orthodoxy is indeed “biblical,” but when in fact the characteristics of said biblicism have been sublimated by an actus purus god, can it really be said any type of sound, biblical stability has been found? It seems to me a sense of history, time, and an ostensible Divine Providence, therein, has become the refuge; more so than the God who has Self-revealed Himself, His character in the cruciform shaped God that He indeed is.

On Christian Dogmatics versus evangelical-Reformed Apologetical Theology

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… dogmatics offers a means of producing a portrait of the economy of grace, and of humankind and its activities in that economy, free from anxieties about foundations and therefore at liberty to devote itself to the descriptive task with Christian alertness, charity and joy.[1]

Christian DogmaticsĀ ā€” the churchā€™s orderly understanding of scripture and articulation of doctrine in the light of Christ and their coherence in him.[2]

If the Church is going to do Church theology, what both Webster and Torrance, respectively, are signaling above, is of the upmost importance to grasp. When Christians do theology, by definition, we arenā€™t first doing apologetics. That is to say, the Christian, as a disciple of the Lord Jesus Christ, is already assured of their Masterā€™s reality; they arenā€™t trying to prove His existence and reality prior to speaking about Him. Indeed, the Christian, as Torrance rightly presses, is doing their theological work in ā€˜light of Christ.ā€™

Too often in evangelical theology (inclusive of Post Reformed orthodox theology) apologetics becomes normative for the rest of the theological task. Following someone like Thomas Aquinas in the Prima Pars of his Summa Theologiae, evangelicals/Reformed get caught in the snare of reassuring their readers that Godā€™s existence is a reality, and that His reality is given credence by the philosophical prolix they offer up through their respective wits and machinations. But as Webster rightly underscores this creates an anxiety, indeed it starts with an anxiety, that ostensibly can only be laid to rest after the respective theologian assuages it with their virtuoso capacity to essentially ā€œspeak Godā€ for God; that is before Deus dixit, ā€˜God has spokenā€™ for Himself in His living Logos for the world, Jesus Christ.

We are to come boldly to the throne of Godā€™s grace in time of need; this is the genuine Christian way of doing theology. One of moment-by-moment dependence on the Word of God. Waiting expectantly for God to speak, afresh anew, through the vibrant and glorified vocal cords of the risen Christ; the Fatherā€™s Son seated next to Him at His Right Hand by the Holy Spirit. The Christian theologian is in a constant dialogue with the living and triune God. They are praying without ceasing, as they encounter the risen and ascended Christ throughout the pages of canonical Scripture. The Christianā€™s existence, in this way, is one where they are ā€œat liberty to devote itself to the descriptive task with Christian alertness, charity and joy.ā€ Most evangelical theology, whether it be of the scholastic or analytic sort is not done within this type of organic frame of con-versation between God and her people in the vicarious humanity of Jesus Christ. As such there is a failure to make genuine contact with the center of Godā€™s life for the world; and thus, it becomes impossible to have a genuine knowledge of the living God as we donā€™t go directly to His exegesis for us in the bosom of the Father (cf. Jn 1.18).

Letā€™s be lively Christians rather than pedantic ones caught up in the web of our own abstract wits. Letā€™s be concrete theologians who do theology from the wood of the crucified and risen and ascended and coming, Jesus Christ. There is wisdom in this way; that is the way of the cross. There is Godā€™s wisdom in this way, even if others consider this way foolish and weak. Be a theologian of the cross where we are nourished by the broken body and shed blood of Jesus Christ, rather than by empty platitudes by those genuflecting on Mt. Olympus to a god of actus purus (ā€˜pure beingā€™).

[1] John Webster, Holy Scripture: A Dogmatic Sketch (Cambridge: Cambridge University press, 2003).

[2] Thomas F. Torrance, Incarnation: The Person and Life of Christ.

The Mythology of the Academicians: They’re Just Regular People

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The following was recently tweeted by Dr. Peter Sloane:

In response to things I see here: academics are no more intelligent than the general population and no more skilled than a plasterer or electrician. We donā€™t do a PhD because we are super bright, or become so because of it, we just happen to love our vocation as others do theirs. I donā€™t enjoy the narrative that universities are filled with exceptionally bright people. They are filled with people highly specialised and with time to devote to the intricacies of a discipline and no more.[1]

Sloane is Senior Lecturer in English Literature at the University of Buckingham in the UK. I could not resonate more with the sentiment he has articulated above. Indeed, as any reader who has followed me for any amount of time knows, I have oft criticized the theology of glory that often attends theological academia (and all of academia in general). As Sloane rightly notes, the academic is not necessarily smarter than anyone else; indeed, they generally arenā€™t. Just as any swath of humanity will demonstrate, there are smart people, mediocre people, and dumb people along said continuum of humanity; this holds true among the academic guilds just the same. As Sloaneā€™s tweet also highlights, and rightly so, is that the academic is a specialist; especially in the 21st century (indeed, to a fault these days). And so, when we apply this principle to theological academia what someone can expect is some level of technical and specialized language as that relates to the artistry of theological communique. Unfortunately, Iā€™m afraid that the specialists in this particular craft, as in any craft, begin to buy into the idea that their specialization, because of its already limiting and liminal language (and the conceptual matter it symbolizes), by definition narrows the discussion to ā€œthem.ā€ That is to say, when the non-specialist Christian attempts to enter this particular fray, what ends up happening is that they might end up sounding unintelligible, maybe even dumb, because they arenā€™t schooled in the linguistics, logics, and lexical aspects that go into the theological academic game. As such, a type of boundary is set up, such that the academics talk among themselves, using their technical parlance, which necessarily, in a certain way, keeps the laity, in the ecclesia outside of the ā€œdeeperā€ discussions that only the specialists can really have (or so the specialists pride themselves into thinking).

As I have described the above scenario, what I havenā€™t engaged with yet is what makes theology unique. Theology, if it is genuinely Christian theology, is not for the so-called specialists alone. The specialists, if there are such a thing in the theological sphere, are really supposed to be ā€œdoctors for the Church.ā€ That is to say, they have a teaching role to play, a role that really reduces to, as its sine qua non, discipleship. And yet because of the strictures that help define academia in general, and then theological academia in particular, the theological specialist starts to live and breathe in an atmosphere that never ā€œcomes downā€ and attempts to be ā€œnon-specialist.ā€ As a result, an ethos of elitism takes hold in the hearts of the specialists, such that they often either retreat back into their ghetto, with ā€œtheir people,ā€ or they attempt to drop into the fray of ā€œregular church peopleā€ only to feel rejected, or so misunderstood that they begin to think that either they are too smart for such people, or that the people they are attempting to engage with in the churches are just too dumb to really understand what they, as the trained specialists, can grasp.

The gap between the academic and the regular church person is reinforced by many variables, a complex that is not easily addressable. Even so, at the end of the day, as Sloane has rightly noted, as far as intelligences go, neither the academic nor the regular church person is necessarily smarter or dumber than the other on a continuum.

Ultimately, it is sin that keeps these seemingly disparate groups from a meeting of the minds and hearts that is supposed to obtain among the fellowship of the people of God. The Lord, ultimately, is not concerned about smarts, but the state of the heart. God wants our whole being (which the heart, in Hebrew and Greek represents in canonical Scripture) to be overcome with the beauty and ways of God in Christ. He loves us as a Father loves His Son. It is this relationship that funds anything following, including intellection. The Father shows no partiality, neither to the smart or dumb person (intellectually). His relationship to, for, with, and in us, in Christ by the Spirit, has nothing to do with what we so often wrongly place priority on. He doesnā€™t look outwardly, but at the heart; He loves the total person. There is no elitism in the Kingdom. If anything, the elect in the Kingdom are the impoverished, the bruised reeds, the so-called ā€œdumbā€ among us. When any air of elitism, no matter how that is given expression, enters into the Church as a bad yeast, God is not there. He is with the broken, downtrodden, and humble.

23Ā Thus says theĀ Lord, ā€œLet not a wise man boast of his wisdom, and let not theĀ mighty man boast of his might, let not aĀ rich man boast of his riches;Ā 24Ā but let him who boastsĀ boast of this, that he understands and knows Me, that I am theĀ LordĀ whoĀ exercises lovingkindness, justice and righteousness on earth; for IĀ delight in these things,ā€ declares theĀ Lord. -Jeremiah 9:23-24

[1] Peter Sloane, Twitter, accessed 05-30-2023.

‘The Father’s Theology’: An evangelical theology versus a philosophical theology

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I am a proponent of an evangelical theology. ā€˜Evangelicalā€™ in the sense that the starting point for theology, I contend, ought to be the Evangel or Gospel Hisself. This is contrary to the philosophical, or hard metaphysical theologies that have characterized much of the Western traditionā€™s theologizing for centuries (i.e., we could think of Thomas Aquinas all the way into Nietzsche et al.) An ā€˜evangelical theologyā€™ is a kerygmatic theology; particularly when we understand that the kerygma is the pronouncement and announcement that Jesus is Lord. It is a theology of the Father who declares, ā€œthis is my dearly beloved Son, hear Him!ā€

Eberhard JĆ¼ngel gets at these matters in the following way:

These two tasks, to learn to think God and thought anew, cannot be separated from one another theologically. It is therefore all the more important from which of the two tasks one approaches the other one. This question, which requires initial clarification, is in actual fact the issue of the self-understanding of theology itself. The first decision to be made will have to do with the difference between philosophical and evangelical theology. A theology which is responsive to the gospel, meaning a theology which is responsive to the crucified man Jesus as the true God, knows that it is fundamentally different from something like philosophical theology in this one thing: single-mindedly and unswervingly, based on its specific task, it attempts to think God from the encounter with God, and thus to think thought anew. For Christian theology, the decision about what thought means is to be made in relation to the possibility of thinking the God who is an event. The possibility of thinking God is, for evangelical theology, not an arbitrary possibility, but rather a possibility already determined by the existence of the biblical texts and claimed already by faith in God. Theology must think God in the concrete context of a history which, beyond the momentary aspect of the ā€œI think,ā€ implies experiences of God which have happened and are promised.

Evangelical theology is distinguished from philosophy in that it does not desire to be lacking in presuppositions, but rather implies certain decisions in its approach to being evangelical theology. A dialogue with philosophical theology, which is really conceivable only as an argument, or a disputation with atheism, must begin accordingly with the exposition of these hermeneutical decisions of evangelical theology. Only in this way does it proceed in a precise and scientific fashion. And above all, this is the only way for it to be honest.

Evangelical theology explicates its basic decisions immediately as decisions of thought, and not solely as decisions of faith. There is a difference whether faith believes or whether thought also understands this. When thinking becomes involved with faith, it will also understand that God cannot be thought without faith. That is the initial point from which evangelical theology proceeds.[1]

Ultimately, as Juengal intones, a genuine evangelical theology is really grounded in the concrete and blood of the cross of Jesus Christ; it is a theology of the cross versus a theology of glory (i.e., philosophical theology). This is the type of theology I am a proponent of. It makes a decision to be grounded in the ā€œhard teachingā€ of Jesus Christ, and to begin its theologizing only after God has spoken, and not in some sort of artifactual antecedents discovered by a profane humanity and history (i.e., philosophical theology). So, it isnā€™t a theology of inherent self-possession, as if postlapsarian humanity has the vestiges of an analogy of God left to them. An evangelical theology understands and takes seriously the reality that humanity, after the fall, lost all capability to think and speak God. It understands that a theology that attempts to think God, prior to encountering God in the face of Jesus Christ, can only conclude in constructing a notion of God that is ultimately a projection of the fallen self; a Superman even. Further, it understands that its theology is one of dispossession and ecstasy, in the sense that it is fully contingent upon God, unilaterally, encountering us, as event, afresh anew, by the Holy Spiritā€™s fresh breath hovering over us with the re-creation power of the resurrection. The only stability in an evangelical theology is grounded in the subject of theology, who is the Christ and the triune God. Evangelical theology has a vulnerability to it that is willing to be considered foolish and weak; that is based in a God willing to be misunderstood as a mere mortal, hidden in the flesh of a man from Nazareth.

I commend to you an evangelical rather than a philosophical theology. The Gospel is the power of God. The Gospel disrupts and reorientates humanityā€™s telos towards the God who has spoken in Jesus Christ. The Gospel is dynamic, organic, and relational. Just be an evangelical theologian already, and leave the philosophy to the philosophers.

[1] Eberhard JĆ¼ngel, God as the Mystery of the World, trans. by Darrell L. Guder (Eugene, Oregon: Wipf&Stock [reprint], 1983), 154.

Christian Theology Done by the Sufferers

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Theology done by people in the depths of suffering looks much different than theology done by people who are relatively comfortable.

When I say “theology” I mean anything anyone thinks or does towards the magnification of Jesus Christ. And this might not even be a conscious effort, especially for those in the thralls of suffering. Indeed, it is in these seasons, when “we have the sentence of death on us so that we will learn to trust the One who raises the dead,” that we are simply living out of the depths of Christ’s life for us (ecstatic existence); i.e., we know He is living for us, or we “wouldn’t make it.”

A Devotional with Martin Luther and his Theology of the Cross

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The following is a repost I originally wrote approximately in and around 2009. I am currently, and once again, being pressed with a really challenging spiritual attack. I’ve walked through many years of these seasons in the past, but that doesn’t necessarily make the heat right now that much cooler. If you could remember me in prayer at this time I would really appreciate it. And with that I’ll leave you with the following word on Martin Luther’s theology of the cross, and some of its devotional implications for our edification and encouragement.

I was first introduced to Martin Lutherā€™sĀ theologia crucis,Ā or ā€œTheology of the Cross,ā€ in seminary, in my Reformation Theology class. Once I heard of it, I was hooked! It is absolutely brilliant, and represents the best of Martin Lutherā€™s theological offering for the church. My previous post was a tribute to Rory Wheeler, who just went home to be with the Lord as a result of the effects of cancer. Death, even for the Christian, presents lingering questions; the primary one being ā€œwhy dear Lord, cannot you just vanquish this curse, right now?ā€ It is obvious to all of those with eyes of faith, that the Lord works in ways that would appear ā€œhidden.ā€ He became man, a babeĀ wrapped in swaddling cloths in a manger. He was born into a poor-manā€™s family from ridiculed Nazareth. The list of Godā€™s hiddeness (Deus absconditus), of course, can be enumerated over and again. Indeed, this is where Lutherā€™s theology of the cross finds its footing; that God works in ways that to the naked eye seem foolish (see I Corinthians 1:17-25, the passage of my Masterā€™s thesis, and motivated by Lutherā€™s theology of the cross). Randall Zachman provides one of the best descriptions of Lutherā€™s theology of the cross that I have ever read. Here is Zachman in full:

In the context ofĀ theologia crucis,Ā faith means believing with certainty that Godā€™s Word is true even when the whole world, the heart of the believer, and even God himself contradict the truth that is revealed in the Word, particularly the Word of promise. Thus, when God begins to show mercy, God does so by first revealing wrath (in law); when God makes alive, God does so by slaying. The same contradictions apply especially to those who have already come to faith. God promises the forgiveness of sins, yet our conscience feels nothing but sin and wrath; God promises life, yet we see nothing but death. Faith, therefore, is the art of believing the Word while experiencing, seeing, and feeling the opposite. We believe that Christ is the Son of God, even though we see and abandoned man on the cross; we believe that God cares for the church, even though we see nothing but a church persecuted by the world and apparently abandoned by God; we believe in eternal life, even though we see and feel nothing but death.

However, the primary locus of the theology of the cross is the experience of trial or tribulation (Anfechtung), when the very heart and conscience of the believer sense that Godā€™s promise of grace and forgiveness is a lie. The believer must regard the promise of forgiveness as true and certain even though the conscience testifies to the contrary.

But under the cross which we experience, eternal life lies hidden. . . . We, too, experience the cross, and death appears to us, if not in fact, yet in our conscience through Satan. Death and sin appear, but I announce life and faith, but in hope. Therefore, if you want to be saved, you must battle against your feelings. Hope means to expect life in the midst of death, and righteousness in the midst of sins.

This is the very meaning of being simultaneously righteous and a sinner (simul iustus et peccator): to believe that we are righteousĀ coram DeoĀ even though we feel like condemned sinners.

Within the context of the theology of the cross, the grace of sanctification and its attestation in the testimony of a good conscience would necessarily be subordinated to the grace of justification and the promise of the forgiveness of sins. This is because the testimony of the good conscience confirms oneā€™s faith in the promise, whereas the theology of the cross emphasizes that testimony of the conscience that contradicts faith in the promise; that is,Ā Anfechtung.Ā Therefore, although Luther continually insisted upon the necessity of sanctification and of the testimony of the good conscience, within the framework ofĀ theologia crucisĀ he could not help but consistently subordinate the grace of sanctification to that of justification.

Lutherā€™s concentration on the theology of the cross also accounts for his refusal to involve the Reformation directly in the external reform of the church. The Word of God does not deal with external, temporal things, but rather with invisible, eternal things; and such invisible things are revealed under an external appearance that contradicts what is being revealed. The theology of glory, in contrastā€”such as Luther found in the papacyā€”emphasizes externals to the point of neglecting the invisible truths revealed by the Word: indeed, to the point of calling Godā€™s Word a lie. Thus, those in the Reformation who would introduce concern for externalsā€”such as Karlstadt with his rejection of idols and the papal massā€”misunderstanding the whole nature of the Word of the cross, and divert the attention of believers from the invisible, eternal things of Godā€™s promises to the visible, temporal things of human reason and senses. Yet it is precisely reason and the senses that must be mortified if we are to believe that the Word of the cross is true.

Lutherā€™sĀ theologia crucisĀ also explains his suspicion of those, such as the Anabaptists, who emphasized the external holiness and moral behavior of the church. If the Word of the cross reveals the truth of God under a contrary appearance, then one would expect the true church not to look like the church at all, but rather to look like God-forsaken sinners. The ā€œsynagogue of Satan,ā€ on the other hand, with its theology glory, would look like the true church of God and would demonstrate a superior holiness externallyā€”as in the monks and friarsā€”but inwardly it would be rejected by God. The theology of the cross would therefore lead one not to stress the conformity of the appearance of the church with its faith, but rather stress the ways in which the appearance of the church denies its claim to be the people of God. The church looks like a gathering of sinners rejected by God and the world, whereas it is in truth the beloved people of God. The church cannot be judged by its appearance, but only by whether it has the Word of Christ crucified. Hence the primary task of the church is to preach the Word of God, while letting externals take their course.[1]

How can that not bless you?! There is a lot in this, too much to talk about in toto; as far as the implications and applications, let me grab just a couple. But first I should also notice something else for us. You see Zachman refer to Lutherā€™ ā€œtheology of glory,ā€ this was in contrast to the theology of the cross; and it refers to (oversimplified) focusing on doing things for the praise and glory of men, instead of God (just do a word study or theology of glory study in the Gospel of John, youā€™ll see how this plays out) [Luther attacked the scholastic theology of his day as based upon the ā€œtheology of gloryā€ instead of the ā€œcrossā€]. Now to my applications.

1) It seems like a loving God would vanquish death so that humanity would no longer have to endure the torment of it. Indeed, he has, but it is only with eyes of faith that we understand the significance of the cross and resurrection and ascension. To the world if God is all powerful, and loving (David Hume) why doesnā€™t he do something about it now? The wisdom of God is displayed in hiddeness, in the unexpected; God is the God whose ways are not our ways, but the way of the cross, the unexpected! Why did the holocaust happen? Why do little kids die from cancer, or starvation? We have to interpret these kinds of questions through the hidden ways of God, through the cruciformity and cross-shaped work of Godā€™s life. Thatā€™s the answer to Lutherā€™s theology of the cross; the wisdom and knowledge of God is only penetrated by those who are wedded to him, in Christ, by the Spirit. And it is when we are pressed up against the most dastardly things of this lifeā€”tribulationsā€”that we quit depending on ourselves, and throw ourselves on Godā€™s mercy that we enter into the kind of life that God gives himself in his inner-life of mutual and interpenetrating love, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It is when we are pushed beyond ourselves that Godā€™s glory in the face of Jesus Christ is just waiting to smile on is in the midst of ourĀ thlipsis, tribulation! Here is the wisdom of God, to take what is intended to destroy, and bring resurrection life out of it!

2) The second application here is a quicker observation. This one has to do with Lutherā€™s/Zachmanā€™s point about how the church should look vis-Ć”-vis the theology of the cross. Frankly, it shouldnā€™t look like what Western, and in particular, American, upward mobile churches strive to look like. It shouldnā€™t look like people who have it all together. It should look like people who are broken, needy, and beggarly. When did Jesus do his greatest work of atonement? What was the crescendo of his work? When he went to the cross. When he was most broken. It was here that he brought life to all of humanity, through his death; by rupturing the bonds of self love (homo incurvatus in se), with the unbreakable bond that he shares consubstantially with the Father and Holy Spirit. That is, a life is given shape, by self-giveness; between the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It is through this kind of brokeness, in the mirror image of the cruci-shaped Son, that we can be the church for the world. That we have something to offer them; only when we are broken, and realize that we receive life as gift from the Father, in Christ, by the Holy Spirit.

Much more to say, but this has run long enough. I think I will talk more about theĀ theologia gloriaeĀ ā€œtheology of glory,ā€ in the near future.

 

[1] Randall C. Zachman,Ā The Assurance of Faith,Ā 9-10.

 

Reflecting on Advanced Theology Degrees and a Theology of Glory

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I know some tire of me opining on what has been called a ‘theology of glory’ (which is a negative thing), but for me it is seemingly something the Lord always has convicted me on ever since I started radically walking with him. This was of course a theme for Martin Luther who is known for hisĀ theology of the crossĀ versus what he identifies as aĀ theology of gloryĀ (that of the schoolmen). I believe, ultimately, the Apostle Paul is really the greatest advocate for living a life in the theology of the cross (which of course includes resurrection and ascension). In light of this theme let me repost something I wrote nine years ago for a now defunct blog of mine. You’ll see that I was responding to something a contact of mine, named Brian, was discussing at his own blog at the time. The sentiment in this still holds true for me.

I have had this same kind of tension in my own life for quite a few years now. Different from Brian though, I donā€™t have the resources to pursue PhD studies right now (even though I have been accepted to a program in South Africa), and even if I did, Iā€™m am not sure at this point that this has ever really been the path for me (even though I read academic Christian theology all the time, and have the gift of teaching and evangelism, and love Godā€™s people); at least it is not apparently the path the Lord has taken me down.

That said, I am not even sure that academics, and the way it is structured is even aĀ viableĀ and fruitful line to take, at least spiritually. Academia, even for Christians, means that you join a guild, and you really must publish or perish constantly to be building up your CV (your name and pedigree). So there is some gamesmanship to the whole affair; and inherent to this process is akin to something like what Martin Luther identified as a theology of glory, which is akin to what Jesus chided the religious leadership of his day of in say John 5. Inherent to the academic game is constructing novel ideas that nobody has noticed before, and seeking to persuade others of this novel idea, with your name tied to it, which provides you status and posture among your peers. I am not attempting to suggest that this is what motivates all Christian academics, but it is inherently hard to not fall into this over the years, no matter how good someoneā€™s intentions are.

Anyway, ultimately, the Lord has worked through the channels of Christian academia through the centuries; but it would be a mistake (of natural theology) to presume and read directly off of this, that God endorses theological guilds (or any guilds, even pastorā€™s guilds) in a way that would make said guilds the gatekeepers to Godā€™s treasures. Last time I checked Jesus Christ is the gatekeeper and mediator between God and humanity.

Obviously this is just a reflection of mine, and represents a personal struggle I have. Maybe if I was a guilded academic my perspective would be different, although I doubt it; I know one prominent one in my life, who has gotten out of the guild, and has only confirmed my suspicions as more valid (unfortunately) than not. And I have had my own experience, which is obviously what I am speaking from.

Even as I will be awarded a PhD in Systematic and Historical Theology, in the very near future (like maybe days), all of the above holds true. Maybe the way things have come about for me, as far as the “pedigree” of the school, relative to higher more prestigious ones, is by design from the Lord. Somehow, because He is God, He found a way to allow me to achieve a goal (to get a PhD in theology), but in a way that fits within the ambit of a theology of the cross rather than of glory. That is to say, most in the theological guilds, and those aspiring to be in them, will literally mock the PhD I am being awarded. Even though it is fully credible, backed up by guys who have accredited PhDs, there will always be a stigma attached to the PhD I get from this small newish school whose origins are indeed in the realm of the least of these. This seems to me to be the wisdom of God, the wisdom of the cross. How fitting, since I wrote my Master’s thesis on I Corinthians 1:17-25. If what it means to be a doctor for the church requires that you earn a PhD from a secular University with a divinity department, or maybe just a humanities’ department, then maybe I will never be a doctor for the church. But if what it means to be a doctor for the church comes from some type of “institutional” recognition given by people actually doing the work of the ministry in the poorest parts of the world, then maybe after all, I will be a doctor for the church; that is, in that “recognized” sense. Ultimately degrees should be a means to an end. Yes, any particular person who has earned them has presumably put in hard work to earn them, but of course: “what do we have from ourselves, what we have is from the Lord; so where is the boasting?” I am not suggesting that having a PhD in theology from a prestigious (“accredited”) school makes someone automatically a “theologian of glory.” But when in fact that becomes the standard for what it means to be a doctor for the churchā€”that is to be measured by your accolades, your publications, “your work” etc.ā€”then I am suggesting that something has gone seriously awry, and that once again perspective needs to be regained by taking said accolades to the foot of cross, and burying them there. It is at that time we need to re-learn to boast not in ourselves, even if done with great self-deprecation and objectivity, but to boast in the cross of Jesus Christ; as if the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world.