Evangelism And Ecumenism

Frequently, there has been a deep division between those who are committed to 'evangelical' concerns and those who are committed to 'ecumenical' concerns. This is a sad situation especially when we look at this particular tension in modern theology in the light of the Gospel. In John 17:2, we read of Jesus' prayer for the Church - "that they may all be one ... so that the world may believe that Thou hast sent Me." In the light of Jesus' prayer, we must acknowledge honestly that the division of the Church is a spiritual catastrophe for the watching world. We must not become so accustomed to disunity that we become immune to the words of warning in Jesus' prayer. The contemporary must penitently acknowledge "that the endless division of the Church gives the world cause for joy and derision, a reason for its unbelief" (Berkouwer).

In the face of its mission, the Church must acknowledge guilt for the world's unbelief. We must, however, reject the idea of 'unity at any price.' We must not be gullibly taken in by a 'lowest common denominator' type of ecumenism which pays little attention to truth. We must heed the warning of Hans Kung - "A Church which abandons truth abandons itself." We must have realsim about the ecumenical enterprise. We must, however, be quite clear about this - realism is not fatalism. Realism will keep us from acting in a misguided way, but it will not rob us of a true concern for Christian unity. Realism means recognizing that, if ecumenism is to have any relevance to our world, it must be grounded  in the Gospel. Realism means that we must not be so closed that we are unwilling to move forward with the Gospel into new situations of life. Realism also means that we must not be so open that we lose sight of the Gospel, and then have no Gospel to bring to the world. Evangelism will lead us beyond our own group, our own denomination. Will ecumenism lead us to seek to win men and women for Christ? - This is the question which realism forces to ask. As we reflect on Jesus' prayer "that they may all be one ... so that the world may believe that Thou hast sent Me" (John 17:21), our concern must be for world evangelism, and not simply for the kind of ecumenism which may turn out to be more of a hindrance to world evangelism rather than a compelling impetus to evangelize the world. 

A Critique of J D Bettis, "Is Karl Barth a Universalist?"

The question of universalism in Barth’s theology has been raised directly by J D Bettis in his article, “Is Karl Barth a Universalist?” (Scottish Journal of Theology, Vol. 20, No. 4, December 1967, pp. 423-436). This article requires to be carefully discussed not only for its significance as an interpretation of Barth’s thought but also because it presents a serious misrepresentation of Berkouwer’s criticism of Barth.

Bettis writes, “Modern protestant theology has defined three basic answers to the question of the particularity of election: double predestination, Arminianism and universalism” (p. 423).

By attempting to fit Berkouwer into “this structure of alternatives” (p. 423), he misrepresents completely Berkouwer’s criticism of Barth. According to Bettis, Brunner and Berkouwrer hold that “because Barth fails to accept either Brunner’s Arminianism or Berkouwer's double decree, he must be a universalist” (p. 426). There are two misrepresentations of Berkouwer here.

(a) In Divine Election (DE) (Chapters Six and Seven – “Election and Rejection”, pp. 172-217 and “Election and the Preaching of the gospel”, pp. 218-253), Berkouwer dissociates himself from the idea of the double decree. In The Triumph of Grace in the Theology of Karl Barth (TG), he writes, “I am of the opinion that … one can judge soundly of the scriptural doctrine of election only when one rejects this symmetry (i.e. the ‘equal ultimacy’ of election and reprobation)” which he describes as “an unbiblical distortion of the message of the Divine election” (p. 391, brackets mine).

(b) Berkouwer never states that Barth is a universalist on the basis that he must be a universalist. He acknowledges that Barth dissociates himself from universalism. He does, however, question the effectiveness of Barth’s rejection of universalism. Berkouwer discusses this question in TG, Chapter X, “The Universality of the Triumph”, pp. 262-296. He acknowledges “Barth’s express rejection of the doctrine of the apokatastasis” (p. 266). It is precisely because Barth is, by his own profession, not a universalist that the discussion of his theology is so important. Bettis asks the question, “Is Katl Barth a Universalist?” In terms of Barth’s own words, this question can be answered with a simple “No”. The subsequent question, “Is Karl Barth’s rejection of universalism convincing?” is the central question.

If Bettis had made the latter question more central, he might have followed through his own critical remarks (p. 433) more fully (more about this later) rather than concentrating chiefly on a defence of Barth, which disposes of his critics by means of misrepresentation. Bettis could not have been so uncritical if he had taken Berkouwer’s critique seriously. This would, however, have required genuine dialogue rather than unfair dismissal!

Bettis contends that “For Barth, one can reject both Arminianism and double predestination without having to accept universalism” (p. 423). This statement might have been written of Berkouwer, whom, it may be argued, rejects this structure of alternatives more convincingly than Barth does. It may also be argued that the precise nature of Berkouwer’s criticism of Barth can only be properly understood when his rejection of this structure of alternatives is recognized.

Berkouwer’s rejection of this structure of alternatives is observable in his book, Faith and Justification, where he writes, “Everything is really said in an unobtrusive phrase, in Christ, … faith is not added as a second, independent ingredient which makes its own contribution to justification in Christ … faith does nothing but accept, or come to rest in the sovereignty of His benefit … we are not acceptable to God because of the worthiness of our faith. Grace is exclusively and totally God’s” (p. 43, emphasis original), “a speculative logic can invade a scriptural proclamation of salvation and torture it beyond recognition … When speculation on time and eternity, with eternity swallowing up the significance of time, determines the line of thought, there is no possibility of doing justice … to justification through faith within the temporal reality of our lives” (p. 150), “Barth’s conception of the relation between election and faith … (bears) a similarity to universalism” (pp. 196-197, emphasis mine) by which he is brought “continually to the precipice (emphasis mine) of apokatastasis (italics original) or universalism” (p. 165).

This raises the question whether “Barth really does justice to the depth of earnestness in the scriptural witness” (p. 165).

It is clear, then, from Faith and Justification as well as Divine Election and The Triumph of Grace in the Theology of Karl Barth that Berkouwer rejects the system of alternatives: Arminianism, the double decree, universalism.

It is, therefore, inaccurate to suggest that Berkouwer accepts a system of alternatives rejected by Barth. Both reject this system of alternatives. The crucial question is: Which rejection of this system of alternatives is the more convincing – Berkouwer’s or Barth’s?

Bettis maintains that “Barth consistently rejects universalism as a doctrine” (p. 427, emphasis mine). The problem with this estimation of Barth’s rejection of universalism is that it does not take sufficient account of Barth’s own words: “Even though theological consistency might seem to lead our thoughts and utterances in this direction (universal reconciliation), we must not arrogate to ourselves that which can be given and received only as a free gift” (Church Dogmatics (CD), Vol. IV, 3, first half, p. 477; cited by Bettis, p. 433, emphasis mine). Barth’s rejection of universalism is not motivated by the interests of theological consistency which, he acknowledges, might seem to lead towards universal reconciliation.

Bettis notes that Barth “leaves open the possibility that within God’s freedom all men may be saved” (p. 427). Barth holds that, because of the freedom of divine love, even the believing man can never escape the threat of eternal rejection (CD, Vol. IV, 3, first half, p. 477, cited by Bettis, p. 433). Thus, Barth’s rejection of universalism is rooted in the idea that the future of all men is uncertain.

This notion involves a conception of God’s freedom which might be characterized as a freedom to be ungracious. Barth’s entire theology appears to proclaim the grace of God. This conception of divine freedom seems to suggest, however, that the affirmation of grace requires to be qualified by the possibility that God might not be gracious.

While the chief direction of Barth’s theology is towards assurance grounded in the revelation of divine grace, it seems that such assurance must be qualified by a recognition of the divine freedom to withhold this grace.

Admittedly, Barth’s intention is to stress that grace is a free gift which no man has any right to expect from God. This principle is, in itself, unassailable. When, however, the universal threat of eternal rejection is set over against the divine reconciliation in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, the issue is not one of man’s rights but of the faithfulness of the divine promise of grace to be received through faith in Christ.

The divine reconciliation in Christ strips man of all the rights he supposes himself to have. At the same time, however, this reconciliation provides the believing man with a gracious assurance which is vouched for by God Himself in His divine promise of grace.

This assurance has nothing at all to do with man’s rights and everything to do with the free grace of God which has been pledged to believing man through Christ.

Barth writes, “We should be denying … that evil attempt (the persistent attempt to change the truth into untruth) and our own participation in it, if in relation to ourselves or others or all men, we were to postulate a withdrawal of that threat … No such postulate can be made even though we appeal to the cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ … we must not arrogate to ourselves that which can be given and received only as a free gift” (CD, Vol. IV, 3, first half, p. 477; cited by Bettis, p. 433).

Barth’s intention – to emphasize that grace is God’s free gift – is to be appreciated. It should, however, be asked whether he has not set ‘God in Himself’ over against ‘God for us’.

What are we to make of this suggestion that God might yet withdraw His saving grace from those who believe? It rules out the possibility of the assurance of salvation. It also casts aspersions of doubt on the reliability of the divine promise of grace which is received through faith in Christ.

Christian assurance is not a form of presumption which takes God’s grace for granted. Rather, it is an assurance which is rooted in the reliability of God in His gracious self-revelation in Christ.

If this revelation of grace is to be qualified by a concept of divine freedom which can be isolated from God’s self-revelation in history, it can only be done at the expense of introducing both an element of arbitrariness into the doctrine of God and a basic uncertainty into the believer’s knowledge of God.

It may be that the particular form of Barth’s rejection of universalism arises directly from the universalist structure of his theology.

He conceives of God’s dealings with men in universal terms. God’s dealings are with ‘man’ rather than with the believer and the unbeliever. In criticizing this aspect of Barth’s thought, it is not being denied that there is a “(k)erygmatic universality” (Berkouwer, DE, p. 240). It is, however, to question whether Barth has represented rightly the nature of this universality.

In Barth’s theology, there is no suggestion of a dichotomy between the believer and the unbeliever. The introduction of such a dichotomy into his rejection of universalism would run counter to the whole tenor of his theology. Barth, therefore, insists that universal reconciliation may not be postulated since the threat of eternal rejection hangs over all men because all men are sinners.

Recognizing that Barth’s notion of divine freedom entails the devaluation of the trustworthiness of the salvation of God in Christ, Bettis writes, “Rather than ask whether Barth attributes too much to the work of Christ, the real question is whether Barth attributes enough to Christ’s work. If it is not to remove the threat of permanent rejection for those who believe, what is the purpose of the crucifixion and resurrection?” (p. 433).

Barth’s concept of divine freedom prevents him from giving an adequate answer to this question. For this reason, his rejection of universalism remains quite unconvincing.

Since Barth thinks of the election of grace in universal categories, it follows that his rejection of universalism is presented in universal categories. The ontic structure (I intend to say more on this subject in my next post) of Barth’s thinking concerning the universal election of grace lies behind Barth’s rejection of universalism.

Bettis comments, “Barth does not reject universalism because the future of the pagan is uncertain. He rejects universalism because the future of all men is uncertain” (p. 433).

Since Barth thinks of ‘man’ and his relation to the divine gracious election in universal categories, he cannot, without undermining the whole structure of his theology, posit a withdrawal of grace from some men (i.e. unbelievers) only, for this would be to make man’s faith (or unbelief) decisive in a way that Barth has consistently refused to do (In TG, p.113, Berkouwer describes Barth’s view thus: “The divine decision … can … not be undone by any human decision”).

If the freedom of God is to be used as a basis for rejecting universalism, it must, in Barth’s view, be a freedom to withhold grace not only from some men but from all men.

Barth states that both the idea of universal reconciliation and the idea of the damnation of all men are “formal conclusions without substantial content” (Die Kirchliche Dogmatik, Vol.II, 2, p. 461; cited by Berkouwer in TG, p. 117). It must, however, be pointed out that even the suggestion of the possibility of the damnation of all men has drastic consequences for the understanding of the faithfulness of the God of revelation and the unity of His redemptive work.

A rejection of universalism on this basis does not represent a defence of free grace. It is the introduction of a rather formless freedom which relativizes the divine faithfulness.

If universalism and this type of rejection of universalism are adjudged to be unsatisfactory, there needs to be further reflection concerning the meaning of kerygmatic universality (more about this in the final post in this series).

Bettis insists that “Barth’s rejection of universalism is consistent with his … strong and clear intention of refusing to identify the love of God with a cosmic plan of redemption and with refusing to identify the gospel with information about that plan” (pp. 435-436, accompanied by footnote (n. 1) to CD, Vol. II, 2, pp.76-93).

Before looking more closely at this statement, it should be pointed out that it might have been made of Berkouwer who writes, “it is extremely dangerous to think and talk about ‘the love of God’ and what ‘follows’ from it outside of the gospel” (The Return of Christ (RC), p. 422). He insists that “the tender mercy of God … is not the point of departure for logical conclusions on our part” (RC, p. 423). He resists “the persistent and almost irresistible inclination to go outside the proclamation of the gospel to find a deeper gnosis, whether in the form of certain knowledge or only as a surmise”, insisting that there is “only one ‘necessity’ … ‘Necessity … is laid upon me. Woe to me, if I do not preach the gospel!’ (1 Cor. 9:16)” (RC, p. 423). He stresses that the Gospel’s answer to the question of the number of the saved is found in Jesus’ words: “Strive to enter by the narrow door” (p. 423; I intend to say more about this in another post – though this will be not be part of the present series on Barth).

Bettis rightly points out that Barth’s rejection of universalism is consistent with his clear intention of refusing to identify the Gospel with a cosmic plan of redemption and the Gospel with information about that plan.

He might, however, have raised the more important question of whether either of these motifs is consistent with other aspects of Barth’s thought.

Bettis writes, “Barth rejects universalism because the premise of its argument is that God’s love is good because it saves men” (p. 436).

A universalist might, however, argue, with some justification, that this represents a reversal of the universalist argument. A universalist might contend that the effect (“it saves men”) is grounded in the cause (“God’s love is good”) and is not seen as the factor which determines his view of God’s love. A universalist might even state that Barth has been a formative influence on his doctrine of God!

Bettis contrasts universalism with Barth’s view. Universalism is concerned with an “ontological reorganisation of the universe” concerning which men are to be informed. “Barth knows that men are not justified by knowledge, even knowledge of God’s plan for their lives. Men are justified through faith” (p. 436).

There appears to be a selectivity in Bettis’ analysis which leads to a failure to acknowledge adequately the tension in Barth’s doctrine of salvation.

Barth speaks of the “eternal destruction” of those who do not believe that they are God’s children from eternity” (CD, Vol. I. 2, p. 238). On what basis are those who are God’s children from eternity to be committed to eternal destruction? Is it on the basis of a lack of a “(s)subjective revelation” which, in Barth’s view, is “not the addition of a second revelation to objective revelation” (p. 238)? Is it on the basis of the raising and answering of the question of our destiny at a different point from the Son of God’s assumption of humanity (p. 238)? Barth answers both questions in the negative. Barth holds that “the truth” (p. 238; i.e. the objective truth) is that he is a child of God from eternity (“’in Christ’ … reconciled … elect … called … justified … sanctified”, p. 240) even when he is “not in the truth” (p. 238; i.e. subjectively).

It is questionable whether Barth has understood the relationship between salvation and judgment in a Biblical way. It might also be asked whether Barth’s belief in the reality of eternal destruction might not have led him to think and to speak differently of the relationship between objectivity and subjectivity.
In his article, "Is Karl Barth a Universalist?", Bettis has not shown any awareness of the kind of theological perspective on grace and faith offered to us by Berkouwer. The lack of real understanding of Berkouwer's view is highlighted in Bettis' statement that Brunner and Berkouwer hold that “because Barth fails to accept either Brunner’s Arminianism or Berkouwer's double decree, he must be a universalist.” In view of all that Berkouwer has written in his book, "Divine Election", I wonder where Bettis gets the idea that Berkouwer thinks in terms of a "double decree."
Another point of interest here concerns Bettis' interpretation of Brunner. I'm less familiar with Brunner's work. I do, however, remember that,in his book, "Our Faith", he was critical of the double decree. He did speak of election in a way that was a bit different from Berkouwer. I recall Brunner speaking of people being invited to accept or reject their "election." Berkouwer, on the other hand, emphasizes that it is only out of the experience of divine grace that we can speak of divine election. This is an important distinction. What Berkouwer is saying about election is not the same as saying that you can accept or reject your election.
He insists that a proper understanding of theological language is only attainable within the context of an encounter with the divine object of faith. He holds that a proper understanding of theological language involves the recognition of the inexpressible character of the divine object of faith which the believer encounters in the obedience of faith. The gift of God’s grace in Christ is an “inexpressible gift” (2 Corinthians 9:15, RSV). When the believer seeks to express his gratitude to God for this inexpressible gift, he finds it quite impossible to give adequate expression to this gratitude, which he feels so deeply. He is almost certain to use language which, at best, will contain certain ambiguities and, at worst, misleading impressions if his language is not recognized as a groping after a form of expression that is worthy of a virtually inexpressible Reality.
While I cannot pass any detailed comment on Brunner's critique of Barth, I should point out that Berkouwer never stated that "Barth must be a universalist." He did, however,ask the question, "How convincing is Barth's rejection of universalism?" While Bettis is not entirely uncritical of Barth, I think that Berkouwer's book, "The Triumph of Grace in the Theology of Karl Barth", is a much deeper analysis of Barth's theology. The moment Bettis makes any criticism of Barth, we must ask him, "Where are you taking us?" As I recall, he is neither taking us in the direction of any of the "three basic answers" - double predestination, Arminianism and universalism" nor is he offering any other option which enables us to get beyond the "three basic answers." Bettis has given us an article on Karl Barth. He has unfairly dismissed Berkouwer. we are left wondering, "Where exactly does Bettis himself stand on these matters." I think that, in fairness to Berkouwer, there is much more of a positive statement of his own view of election than we get from Bettis. In Berkouwer's book, "A Half Century of Theology", the chapter on "The Heart of the Church" provides a very helpful discussion of the doctrine of divine election. In my book on Berkouwer, I have commented on this chapter. My comments were set within the context of a discussion of Berkouwer's approach to apologetics. Emphasizing the apologetic value of Berkouwer's doctrine of election, these are the points that I made:
(i) He discerns the harmful effects of a deterministic doctrine of election.
(ii) He acknowledges that the deterministic interpretation of election has, for many, proved to be an obstacle to faith.
(iii) He affirms the primacy of divine revelation over human reason.
(iv) He refuses to be content with "the construction pf defensive syntheses."
(v) He has thought seriously about difficult theological concepts and biblical passages.
(vi) Through honest questioning, he has reached a positive position.
(vii) His position could provide an aid towards faith for the person drawn to nihilism because of disillusionment with the deterministic notion of divine sovereignty.

I will now return to Berkouwer. I will not be returning to the Bettis article. Since, however, I am building on the discussion of the Bettis article, I am including these comments on Berkouwer as the final part of this post on Barth and universalism.

Berkouwer rejects a priori universalism without losing a proper perspective on the divine freedom. From Berkouwer’s perspective, the possibility of universal reconciliation would be related not to the freedom of God to be ungracious but to the freedom of God to be gracious.

Such a conception of divine freedom would be more consistent with the Gospel as a revelation of grace than Barth’s introduction of the idea of the freedom of God as a qualification placed on a theology which bears an inherently universalist structure.

Barth’s notion of divine freedom raises problems regarding his theology of revelation. The suggestion that believing man stands under the threat of eternal rejection tends to relativize the reality of God’s gracious revelation. The faithfulness of the God of revelation is called in question. Thus, it becomes difficult to distinguish between divine freedom and arbitrariness.

In A Half Century of Theology, pp. 45-49, Berkouwer emphasizes Barth’s “strong opposition to theological arbitrariness” (p. 46). Concerned to draw attention to “the free and gracious gift of God” (p. 49, emphasis original), Barth insists that “(t)here is no way leading from us to grace … (since) (t)hat … would be the worst kind of Pharisaism” (p. 49, emphasis and brackets mine; with reference to though not a direct citation of CD, Vol. IV, 1, p. 617). It is against the arbitrariness of “all false boasting” (p. 48) that Barth emphasizes the freedom of God’s grace

The way in which Barth argues for the freedom of God’s grace is questionable. In challenging Barth’s way of speaking of God’s freedom, I would maintain that an appeal to the cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ is precisely the opposite of arrogating to ourselves that which can be given and received only as a free gift. It is a looking away from ourselves to the Saviour. There is no genuine appeal to the cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ where there is any thought that salvation can ever be anything other than a free gift.

Barth’s intention, in CD, Vol. IV, 3, first half, p. 477, may be to warn against false boasting. His manner of speaking does, however, open the door to a conception of divine freedom which goes beyond a protest against false boasting.

In Barth’s conception of divine freedom, there appears to be no essential connection between the historical revelation in which God promises salvation to those who believe and the eschatological possibility that this salvation might yet be withheld from those who believe.

If the freedom of God is not to become a formless freedom which conflicts with the affirmation of the gracious character of revelation, it requires to be understood that “the universality of the New Testament … is nowhere made into an objective state of affairs” (Berkouwer, DE, p. 240).

When objectivity and subjectivity are not set in tension with each other, a priori universalism may be rejected without recourse to either an arbitrary avoidance of theological consistency or an arbitrary conception of divine freedom which suggests that God may, in His eschatological judgment, act in a manner that is unfaithful to the promise of grace given in His historical revelation.

The significance of man’s faith is fully recognized when the reality of the divine faithfulness in God’s promise of grace is upheld. The significance of unbelief is emphasized in the face of the warning of the Gospel. Thus, the significance of man can be affirmed over against the universalist devaluation of the seriousness of unbelief and the threatening of faith’s significance by an a-historical conception of divine freedom.

Thus, without any sacrifice of theological consistency, it can be affirmed unambiguously that “Kerygmatic universality does not preclude but include(s) the call to belief and repentance” (Berkouwer, p. 240).

The question arises most pointedly in view of Barth’s affirmation of the reality of eternal destruction (CD, Vol. I, 2, p. 238) whether it is sufficient for Barth, in his preaching of the gospel, to say, “By grace you have been saved! – this is true, even though we may not believe it, may not accept it as valid for ourselves”, even allowing for his words, “and unfortunately in so doing may forego his benefits” (Deliverance to the Captives, p. 40, emphasis original; I will return to the relationship between grace and faith in a later post).

In the broader context of contemporary theology, Berkouwer and Barth have much in common. Both affirm the reality of divine grace. Both affirm the doctrine of divine election. Both affirm the centrality of Christ in this doctrine. Berkouwer welcomes Barth’s emphasis on both God’s sovereignty and God’s love, his emphasis on both divine election and Jesus Christ: “We ….must listen to his warning not to separate God’s sovereignty from His love, and His election from Jesus Christ, for in view of the many dangers and misunderstandings this warning becomes necessary” (DE, p. 161). There are, however, significant differences between Berkouwer and Barth (for more on Berkouwer’s understanding of divine election, see my post, “Loved with Everlasting Love”). In affirming the reality of divine grace, the doctrine of divine election and the centrality of Christ, they have not spoken with a single voice. The voice of Barth has been more dominant than that of Berkouwer. I hope that, by drawing attention to Berkouwer’s theology, my posts will enable his voice to be heard by more people. The more we become aware of his distinctive contribution, the more he will be appreciated as a theologian whose work is to be highly valued.

Christian Faith in Dialogue with Herbert Marcuse

Marcuse observes the tension between the notion of liberation and its possibilities of historical realization.
He maintains that “On theoretical as well as empirical grounds, the dialectical concept pronounces its own hopelessness” (One-Dimensional Man (ODM), p. 253). Marcuse draws this conclusion on the basis that “The human reality is its history and, in it, contradictions do not explode by themselves” (ODM, p. 253, emphasis mine).

He asks, “Does this mean that the critical theory of society abdicates and leaves the field to an empirical sociology … ? Or do the dialectical concepts once again testify to their truth … ?” (ODM, p. 254).

Marcuse is both critical of and sympathetic to the dialectical analysis of society. He suggests that “‘Liberation of inherent possibilities’ no longer adequately expresses the historical alternative” (ODM, p. 255, emphasis mine), while contending that “the critique of society would still be valid and rational (even if) … incapable of translating its rationality into terms of historical practice” (ODM, pp. 254-255, emphasis and brackets mine).

The tension between Marcuse’s notion of the rationality of the dialectical analysis of society and his recognition of the decreasing likelihood of any historical realization of its ideal does not quench his revolutionary hope: “the chance is that … the historical extremes may meet again: the most advanced consciousness of humanity and its most exploited force. It is nothing but a chance.” (ODM, p. 257).

Acknowledging that the critical theory of society remains negative, holding no hope and showing no promise, Marcuse continues to advocate the absolute refusal to accept the established system despite the political impotence of this refusal (ODM, pp. 255-257).

The New Testament hope for the future is quite different from that of Marcuse.

Marcuse’s hope is directed towards the end of capitalism.

The Christian hope is directed towards the end of sin.

Marcuse speaks of the irrationality of capitalism which is characterized by internal contradiction.

The Christian faith speaks of the irrationality of sin: “There can be no reason for sin in God’s creation and the gifts of God, or in anything that God has wished for man and has given to man” (Berkouwer, Sin, p. 136, emphasis mine).Sin, in Christian theology, speaks of the internal contradiction which is central to man’s being – man, created in the image of God, has rebelled against his Creator.

Marcuse maintains that organized capitalism has a deceptive character which is designed to cover up the social and economic alienation which it has created – “deceptive liberties (are) … made into a powerful instrument of domination” which “sustain(s) alienation” (One-Dimensional Man (ODM), pp. 7-8).

This, according to Marcuse, is “one of the most vexing aspects of advanced industrial civilization: the rational character of its irrationality” (ODM, p. 9).

According to the Bible, sinful man has a deceptive character which is designed to cover up his self-alienation from God – “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately corrupt; who can understand it?” (Jeremiah 17:9); “All have turned aside, together they have gone wrong; no one does good, not even one. Their throat is an open grave, they use their tongues to deceive” (Romans 3:12-13).

Marcuse holds that the complete overthrow of the capitalist system is highly unlikely.

Observing that the critical theory of society defined “the actual contradictions in nineteenth century European society”, Marcus insists that “Confronted with the total character of the achievements of advanced industrial society, critical theory is left without the rationale for transcending this society” (ODM, p. xiv, emphasis mine).

He analyzes advanced industrial society thus: “advanced industrial society is capable of containing qualitative changes for the foreseeable future … forces and tendencies exist which may break this containment and explode the society … The first tendency is dominant, and whatever preconditions for a reversal may exist are being used to prevent it” (ODM, p. xv).

* The Christian faith maintains that a radical reversal of man’s sinful nature is humanly impossible. The contrast between the “highly unlikely” and “humanly impossible” emphasizes that, from the standpoint of man’s radical alienation from God, the Marxist concept of alienation is not radical enough since man does not have the power within himself to overcome this alienation which lies at the centre of his life” (S H Travis, I Believe in the Second Coming of Jesus (SCJ, p. 232).

* Christian ‘this-worldly’ hope is quite different from the idea of a secularized eschaton inferred from history itself. Bertrand Russell, whose hostility to religion was uncompromising as Marx’s and who was “one of the intellectual leaders of the left in politics” during the twentieth-century, discounted, discounted the predictive element in Marx’s thought as “unscientific, in the sense that there is no reason whatsoever to suppose (it) true” with this scathing comment – “Marx professed himself an atheist, but retained a cosmic optimism which only theism could justify” (History of Western Philosophy, p. 816, cited in C Brown, Philosophy and the Christian Faith, p. 137).

* Christian ‘this-worldly’ hope is not based on any anthropocentric attempt to logically infer the nature of society’s future from a particular interpretation of its past history. A penetrating critique of the anthropocentric attempt to logically infer the nature of society’s future from a particular interpretation of its past is found in K R Popper, The Poverty of Historicism.

* Christian ‘this-worldy’ hope is entirely bound up with faith in Jesus Christ as the Liberator. Christian ‘this-worldy’ hope is set in the context of Christ’s redemption which “consists in being redeemed from and redeemed unto” (Berkouwer, Faith and Sanctification, p. 181, emphasis original).

* Christian ‘this-worldly’ hope sets about changing the world, believing that Christ’s redeeming power is already operative in this present world. Christian ‘this-worldly’ hope, believing that Christ’s redemptive purpose awaits its final consummation beyond this present world, may never identify itself with the kind of optimistic Utopianism which tends towards a premature anticipation of the fullness of that redemption.

S H Travis emphasizes that “We do not have to choose between this world and the world to come, because the purpose of God embraces both” (SCJ, p.250). Critical of the Marxist future expectation, Travis writes, “any quest for a perfect society which has no possibility of a life beyond death is illusory. It offers nothing to those who are sacrificed in the present time for the sake of those who are expected to enjoy the promised utopia. And even for those who experience the future perfect society, their enjoyment of it will be short-lived” (p. 233). He draws a contrast between this “illusory and short-lived” hope and “a real hope of eternal life with God (which) sets us free from anxiety about death, and frees us to work for the transformation of this world” (p. 250).

Berkouwer insists that our thinking and living should not be controlled by the ‘this-worldly’ – ‘other-worldly’ dilemma: “On the route of faith and action, along with hope, we see that the gospel we believe is far removed from the picture of a future without bearing on the present, a heavenly hope without concern for the neighbour and his world” (A Half Century of Theology, p. 214).

Understanding Christian hope thus, Christian theology can receive the Marxist critique if religion appreciatively without surrendering the religious foundation upon which its social ethic is built. The Marxist critique is to be received with a humble confession of sin and a greater commitment to demonstrating, through deeds as well as words, the love of God for the whole man.

Marx’s Call for a World-Changing Philosophy: Herbert Marcuse, Liberation and Jesus Christ

Marcuse emphasizes that liberation is grounded in the truth.
He sees, in Marx’s thought, an “absolutism of truth (which) … once for all separates dialectical theory from the subsequent forms of positivism and relativism” (Reason and Revolution (RR), p. 322, emphasis mine).
Marcuse describes this absolutism of truth thus: “According to Marx, the correct theory is the consciousness of a practice that aims at changing the world. Marx’s concept of truth, however, is far from relativism. There is only one truth and one practice capable of realizing it. Theory accompanies the practice at every moment, analysing the changing situation and formulating its concepts accordingly. The concrete conditions for realizing the truth may vary, but the truth remains the same and the theory remains its ultimate guardian. Theory will preserve the truth even if revolutionary practice deviates from its proper path. Practice follows the truth not vice versa” (RR, pp. 321-322, emphasis mine).
Marx’s call for a world-changing philosophy is, in Marcuse’s opinion, directly related to the liberation of the individual since, for Marx, the transition from capitalism to socialism is necessary “in the sense that the full development of the individual is necessary” (RR, p. 317).
It is this goal of individual freedom which must be maintained where revolutionary practice has resulted in the replacement of one repressive system with another.
The New Testament conception of truth is quite different from that of Marcuse.
The New Testament proclaims that Jesus Christ is the Truth (John 14:6) and that freedom comes through truth - “you will know the truth and the truth will set you free” (John 8:32).
When truth is defined christologically, Jesus Christ is recognized as the Liberator. The practice of liberation is, then, rooted in the confession of faith in Him as the Liberator.
When liberation theology is properly rooted in such faith in the Liberator, it does not become social activism which is independent of personal faith.
Discussing the connection between Christology and “political theology”, Berkouwer writes, “Helmut Thielicke … criticizes ‘political theology’ on the grounds of its christology, not on the grounds of its concern for the affairs of this world. In this christology, Thielicke thinks, Jesus is viewed as a model of human activity in such a way that the issue of his divinity evaporates. He sees this as a natural upshot of a christology that has concern only with man and his world. Jesus becomes a substitute for an absent God. Naturally, in the mind of ‘political theologians’ Thielicke’s fears are misplaced. For, they say, what they want is not to replace the gospel, but to trace its bearing on worldly affairs” (A Half Century of Theology, pp. 208-209, emphasis original).
According to Berkouwer, “the problem for Christian theology lies in the manner in which the work of man is integrated into the work of God” (p. 209, emphasis original).
Man’s liberating activity must be rooted in rather than arbitrarily separated from the liberating activity of God in Christ.
The New Testament proclamation concerning the work of Jesus Christ the Liberator emphasizes the uniqueness of His redemption through which man, by faith, receives God’s gracious gift of justification (Romans 3:24-25).
In view of this teaching concerning the uniqueness of the work of Jesus Christ the Liberator, salvation is described thus: “this is not your own doing, it is the gift of God” (Ephesians 2:8).
The call to Christian obedience is issued on the basis of divine mercy (Romans 12:1; Ephesians 2:10).
A Christian theology of liberation may be regarded as an attempt to understand the Gospel and follow its practical implications in the contemporary world without implying an unbelieving replacement of the Gospel of divine redemption with an ethic of social action.

Revelation and Reconciliation

'Serious reservations ... must be voiced against the dominant position of the idea of revelation in theology, with its corollary that man's essential predicament is his lack of knowledge ... if the ignorance of man stands at the center, then the fact of revelation relieves that plight; but if man's guilt is the problem, then not revelation but reconciliation must become the theological centrum' (C E Braaten, History and Hermeneutics, p.14).
Building on Braaten's comment, we emphasize two important points:
(i) Man's basic need lies in his sinfulness rather than his finitude;
(ii) That need is met by reconciliation to God rather than mere knowledge about God.
In his treatment of the doctrine of Scripture, Berkouwer places the doctrine of reconciliation at the centre. Divine revelation is not merely an antidote for human ignorance. Scripture must be understood with respect to its specific intention (Holy Scripture, p.125), which is 'most closely related to salvation' (p. 142). An adequate doctrine of Scripture demands a proper understanding of the function as a pointer to Christ, through whom believing man receives eternal life (p.125). The revelation that comes to us through the Scriptures is precisely '(t)he powerful operation of the Spirit' which 'centres in the salvation that has appeared in Christ' (p.49). This work of the Spirit, pointing to a salvation that calls for the response of faith, is central to Berkouwer's understanding of the doctrine of Scripture:
'Believing Scripture does not mean staring at a holy and mysterious book, but hearing the witness concerning Christ. The respect for the concrete words is related precisely to this, and the 'is' of the confession (Scripture is the Word of God) points to the mystery of the Spirit, who wants to bind men to Christ through these words, through this witness' (p.166).
'It is possible to live with Scripture only when the message of Scripture is understood and is not considered 'a metaphysical document', but a living instrument serving God for the proclamation of salvation' (p. 333).
The relation of God's Spirit to Scripture is essentially connected with the concepts of guilt and reconciliation rather than the 'revelation' of a knowledge which is primarily cognitive. Assurance concerning the authority of Scripture is directly related to Christian experience. Such assurance is the expression of the faith which trusts Christ and finds Him trustworthy (p.241).
The assurance that God's Spirit continues to speak through Scripture concerning Christ is quite different from the kind of rationalism which turns the 'is' of the confession - Scripture is the Word of God - into 'a rationally developed infallibility of Scripture that was supposed to preclude all doubts' (p.32). (Note: It should not be supposed that Berkouwer has no doctrine of the infallibility of Scripture. His criticism is directed not aginst the notion of Biblical infallibility as such but against a particular conception of infallibility - 'a rationally developed infallibility').
Berkouwer's criticism of 'a rationally developed infallibilty of Scripture that was supposed to preclude all doubts' is directed against an approach to Scripture which operates primarily on a cognitive level with its concern for infallible and inerrant information. He suggests that this formalized notion of infallible and inerrant truth threatens to undermine the true meaning of faith.
Faith is not simply an addendum to cognitive knowledge concerning infallible and inerrant truth. It is misleading to place cognitive assent to a certain theory of the infallibility and inerrancy of Scripture prior to believing trust in Jesus Christ. When ' rationally developed infallibility of Scripture that was designed to preclude all doubts' is made the prerequisite of reliable knowledge of Jesus Christ, this suggests that one believes the Bible with a different 'faith' from the faith which trusts Christ. Such a notion involves concepts of faith, truth and knowledge that are primarily intellectual in nature. The suggestion is that faith is to be thought of as assent to an external authority.
Critical of this rather static understanding of truth, Berkouwer directs our attention to the dynamic aspect of truth suggested by Bible passages which describe faith's relation to truth in terms of doing the truth (John 3:21), walking in the truth (2 John 4; 3 John 4), being set free by the truth (John 8:32) and being sanctiifed by the truth (John 17:19).
In making this criticism of 'a rationally developed infallibility of Scripture designed to preclude all doubts', Berkouwer is encouraging us to take care to avoid building our doctrine of Scripture on a concept of knowledge that is so generalized that it fails to appreciate the truly religious nature of our knowledge of God: 'For the purpose of the God-breathed Scripture is not at all to provide a scientific gnosis in order to convey and increase human knowledge and wisdom, but to witness of the salvation of God unto faith'. Clarifying his meaning, he comments, ' This approach does not mean to separate faith and knowledge. But the knowledge that is the unmistakable aim of Scripture is the knowledge of faith' (p.180).
Berkouwer's perspective is not concerned with infallible information secured by inspiration. Holding that 'the nature of the God-breathed character of Scripture cannot be deduced by means of various analogies to the inspiration', Berkouwer contends that 'Scripture is the Word of God because the Holy Spirit witnesses in it of Christ' (p.162).
By speaking of the Holy Spirit's witness to Jesus Christ, Berkouwer does not intend to draw our attention away from the human witness to Jesus Christ. Rather, he seeks to direct our attention to the 'deep dimension of the human witness'. Concerning this 'deep dimension', he writes, 'This witness does not well up from the human heart but from the witness of God, in which it finds its foundation and empowering as a human witness' (p.165). With this conception of Scripture as 'human witness empowered by the Spirit', Berkouwer maintains that 'the Word of God does not draw us away from the human but involves us with the human' (p.167).
Berkouwer's appreciation of the human aspect of Scripture, his insight into the relation between the Spirit and Scripture, and his distinction between the nature of the knowledge of God and other types of knowledge each constitute important elements in an adequate doctrine of Scripture.
Berkouwer is in basic agreement with Braaten's remark that the concept of reconciliation, as an antidote to man's guilt, should be more central in our theological thinking than the concept of revelation as an antidote to man's ignorance. It should not, however, be assumed that he is ready to dispense with the idea of revelation and replace it directly with the idea of reconciliation.
Berkouwer's understanding of the relation of revelation and reconciliation can be explored further by turning our attention to a book which contains the word, 'revelation', in its title - General Revelation.
Here, Berkouwer emphasizes both the reality of God's revelation in creation and sinful man's inability to understand this revelation. He maintains that there is 'an objective revelation of God in His works which man ... can no longer read because of the darkening of his understanding'. Taking account of human sin without denying the divine revelation in creation, Berkouwer affirms that 'the spectacles of special revelation ... are needed in order to read the revelation in creation' (p.30).
Expanding on this point, he emphasizes that general revelation can only be understood through grace. He insists that the one who has come to experience the grace of God in salvation is alone able to understand the revelation of God in creation. Writing on 'The Nature Psalms', he states this succinctly: 'nature is not seen isolated from the salvation of the God of Israel ... man in and by the salvation of God is delivered from the tenacity of the egocentric and commences to sing of the glory of God. It is this salvation that opens doors and windows towards God's handiwork ... This understanding, and seeing, and hearing, is possible only in the communion with him, in the enlightenment of the eyes by the salvation of God' (pp.128, 131).
Berkouwer affirms that while there is an objective revelation of God in creation, we can only understand that revelation properly when we experience reconciliation to God through Jesus Christ. While the idea of reconciliation is central to Berkouwer's theology, it should not be assumed that that God's act of reconciliation in Jesus Christ constitutes the entirety of God's revelation. God revealed Himself first in creation prior to man's sin and, therefore, prior to the need for reconciliation. Since man has sinned, he is no longer able to rightly understand this revelation. Man's sin, therefore, occasioned the need for 'the revelation of reconciliation' (p.26).
The redemptive revelation should not be seen as replacing the creational revelation. God has revealed Himself redemptively because of the failure of sinful man, and not because of any failure in His creational revelation. The purpose of creational revelation was not redemptive, for, prior to his sin, man did not require to be redeemed. Redemptive revelation has a restorative character. Man's original relationship with God, spoiled by his sin, is restored through the revelation of reconciliation.
The full process of the revelation of reconciliation includes five elements:
(a) The creational revelation through which God gave Himself to man in a relationship not yet marred by sin. That revelation remains revelation after man's sin, though it is not properly understood until man's sinful blindness is removed through God's redemption.
(b) The incarnation in which God Himself became man with the purpose of delivering man from sin and death (The Work of Christ, p.28).
(c) The Scriptures which serve as 'a living instrument serving God for the proclamation of the message of salvation' (Holy Scripture, p.333).
(d) Proclamation which calls for the Church to be joyful and faithful servants of the Redeemer and His mesasage of redemption. Through the Church's very human witness, Christ speaks His divine Word to the world. (Proclamation is used here in a broad sense. It is not to be identified exclusively with 'preaching' or 'pulpit ministry').
(e) The Spirit of God whose activity is indispensable if there is to be reconciliation. Without the Spirit's presence, Christ's incarnation would remain a matter of past history, the Scriptures would be no more than a record of Jewish religion and the proclamation of the Church would be empty religious tradition. Whatever there may be of past and present tradition, there would be no reconciliation, for it is the Spirit who enables the message of Christ in the Scriptures and the proclamation of the Church to be a message of reconciliation which actually brings us into a new living relationship with God.
As we reflect on the importance of each of these five elements, we must emphasize the integral unity of the whole process of revelation through which God comes to us as our Creator and our Redeemer. No part can be ignored without affecting the whole.
(i) The loss of the perspective of creational revelation results in the loss of an adequate perspective on man's sin, for man's sin 'is unmasked in its guilty character precisely because there is and remains revelation' (General Revelation, p.31).
(ii) Without Christ, there can be no Christian faith, for without Christ, we have no Saviour.
(iii) Without the Scriptures, we would not have the message of Christ available to us (Holy Scripture, p.57 - Here, Berkouwer cites favourably 'Calvin's rejection of a spiritualism that makes great display of the superiority of the Spirit, but rejects all reading of Scripture itself').
(iv) Without the Church's proclamation of the message of reconciliation, that message would remain in the Bible without reaching those for whom it is intended (The Return of Christ, p.132 - Here, Berkouwer comments on our call to be a missionary Church. He insists that there can be 'no distinction in this area between the "being" and the "well-being" of the church. It is a matter of the church's very being to turn towards the world').
(v) To lose the perspective of the Spirit is to open the door to the kind of barren rationalism which kills rather than giving life (2 Corinthians 3:6).
We need the presence and power of the Spirit if our knowledge of God is to be heart-knowledge of the kind which enables us to say, with Paul, 'we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being changed into His likeness from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit' (2 Corinthians 3:18).

Who is God?

Philosophical theology is chiefly concerned with the abstract question of the existence of God. Berkouwer, however, insists that the question of God should be asked religiously: “‘Who is a God like thee, pardoning iniquity, and passing over transgression … ‘ (Micah 7:18)” (A Half Century of Theology, p. 77).

To ask the question of God religiously is to see this question as “the one theme that really lies at the bottom of everything else” (p. 76). It is to call in question the detached objectivity of philosophical theology. It is to open oneself to the “different atmosphere” of “Micah’s question”, the atmosphere of “a latent doxology, a ‘rapturous hymn’ (A. Weiser), that leaves all doubt behind as it revels in admiration of Israel’s God” (p. 77).

While Berkouwer is critical of philosophical theology, contending that “Many of the questions of our time arise not in doxology but in doubt” (A Half Century of Theology, p.77), he does not opt out of the apologetic task of presenting a reasonable faith to a sceptical and unbelieving world.

His main criticism appears to be directed against the kind of philosophical approach which seems to be preoccupied with the God of natural theology.

To discuss the traditional arguments for the existence of God is, for Berkouwer, a far cry from asking the question of the loving God (pp. 76-77).

The God of the old natural theology can be discussed abstractly while the living God can never be removed to such a comfortable distance.

The contrast between the living God and the God of the proofs is, to a certain extent, a matter of emphasis rather than an absolut contrast.

Handled sensitively within the context of the Anselmic dictum, “I believe that I may understand”, philosophical arguments can perform a positive function in Christian theology. Their function would not, then, be that of ‘proofs’. Rather, they might function as an aid to Christian theological reflection concerning the meaning of faith in God.

This positive function within Christian theology rests on the recognition that arguments for God’s existence are not viewed as incontrovertible proofs and that the God of Christian theology is the God of revelation whose nature may not be simply read off from such arguments.

Removed from this context of faith in the God of revelation, the God of the proofs remains a pale reflection of the God of the Christian faith. The God of the proofs remains at the periphery of human existence. When the god of the proofs is identified with the God of the Christian faith, agnostic and atheistic philosophers are provided with the ideal excuse for their scepticism and unbelief. Man can justly be indifferent to a ‘God’ who has been indifferent to him. Such a ‘God’ hardly merits man’s attention.

If philosophical theology is to be taken seriously by the God of the Christian faith, then it must take seriously the God of the Christian faith - the God who has taken mankind seriously.

Berkouwer insists that the question, “Does God exist?” implies the further question, “Who is God?” (A Half Century of Theology, p. 77).

This latter question is to be understood as “a most existential and relevant question … not a theoretical question about God’s existence as a ‘thing’” (p. 77).

The question of God is, then, a deep question which is raised by the question of meaning and purpose in man’s entire experience of life.

The thoroughly existential character of this question involves man in asking further questions about this God: “What do we mean by his presence in the world? Where does he reveal himself here and now?” (p. 77).

Thus, when the enquirer asks the question, “Does God exist?” in an attitude of openness, he soon finds himself faced with the question of revelation as a present phenomenon impinging on his life.

An openness to God and his revelation allows the possibility of asking the question of God doxologically.

* Doxology is the only appropriate alternative to doubt. Doxology does not depend on the foundation of a faith that is built on a natural theology. On the basis of God’s salvation (and not that of natural theology’s attempt to prove God’s existence), the believer is deeply moved to worship God (General Revelation, p. 134).

* Doxology does not assert itself, claiming blind faith (Holy Scripture, pp. 351-352) and blind obedience (A Half Century of Theology, pp. 157ff).

* Doxology offers humble and grateful obedience to the God whose revelation brings meaning and purpose to man’s life. Christian faith involves “acceptance … with joy and willingness” and an obedience to “Christ whereby he is never out of view” (Holy Scripture, p. 350).

* Doxology does not hanker after the perfect system (Faith and Justification, pp. 21-22).

* Doxology acknowledges that the revelation of God is richer than any man-made system of thought (Divine Election, pp. 276-277).

* Doxology does not involve a retreat into sheer mysticism with its scant attention to the words of Scripture (Holy Scripture, pp. 289-290).

Berkouwer’s approach to the question of God and his revelation accentuates several important points:

(a) The way of authoritarianism is excluded, because of the limitation of man’s knowledge, since God, in his revelation, remains hidden.

Berkouwer writes, “we must not speculate beyond the boundaries which God in His wisdom has set us” (Divine Election, p. 15). He emphasizes the faith - character of theological statements (pp. 25-26). When theological affirmation is understood as a confession of faith which is relative to divine revelation, it is preserved from the kind of authoritarian assertiveness which fails to recognize sufficiently the limitation of theological understanding.

In his discussion, “Election and the Hiddenness of God” (Divine Election, (Chapter Four, pp. 102-131), Berkouwer emphasizes that God’s hiddenness is not to be set over against his salvation. He rejects a concept of God’s hiddenness which “separates the God of revelation from our lives and mitigates the absoluite trustworthiness of that revelation” (p. 125).

Even in confessing God’s salvation, faith acknowledges that it does not know everything about God (pp. 120-121, especially the citation of Isaiah 45:15 - “Truly you are a God who hides himself, O God and Saviour of Israel”).

Although our knowledge of God in Christ is confessed to be true and reliable (p. 124, especially the citation of John 14:9 - “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father”) , we must not presume upon complete knowledge . The attempt to attain to complete knowledge is admonished for its spiritual pride when Christ speaks of these things which are hidden from “the wise and understanding” yet revealed “unto babes” (p. 123, citing Matthew 11:25).

It is with these words of Christ that Berkouwer ends his study of divine election (p. 330). He emphasizes that the knowledge of God is not to be sought apart from a simple faith which looks to Christ as Saviour.

(b) The way of rationalism is excluded because man’s thoughts cannot be compared with those of God, whose revelation remains the mystery of revelation.

A rationalism which purports to reduce the mystery of revelation to the level of human reason is quite illegitimate because faith recognizes that God’s thoughts are higher than our thoughts (p. 81, citing Isaiah 55:9).

Even in the knowledge of God through his revelation, the believer acknowledges his inability to comprehend God fully.

An excellent discussion of the fundamental importance of “God’s Incomprehensibility” for theological reflection is found in H. Bavinck, The Doctrine of God, (The Banner of Truth Trust, 1977), Chapter I, pp. 13-37.

(c) The way of mysticism is excluded because God’s revelation, though not comprehensive, is clear.

A mystical experience which cannot be communicated in words is far removed from the Christian experience of salvation for which the words of Scripture have a “decisive importance” (Holy Scripture, p. 289).The way indicated by Berkouwer is a way that combines positive commitment and openness. Both these characteristics of his thought are clearly observable in the ‘Foreword’ to A Half Century of Theology, pp. 7-9.

This way promises to be helpful in overcoming the problem of polarization. It does this by addressing
(a) the rationalistic impasse between “mindless fideism and faithless rationalism” (B. Demarest’s discussion of Berkouwer’s view of the relation between faith and reason, review of A Half Century of Theology in Themelios, Vol. 4, No. 1 (New Series), September 1978, p. 41);
(b) the authoritarian impasse between those who accept and those who reject;
(c) the scholastic impasse between those who subscribe to the system and those who do not;
(d) the mystical impasse between those who have the experience and those who do not (Berkouwer’s theology is experiential, but it is not experience-based in the sense that nothing can be said to those who have not had the experience except, “You’ll understand once you’ve had the experience).

Assessing Pannenberg's Critique of Barth's Theology

Pannenberg is very bold in his criticism of Barth's theology. He calls it "the farthest extreme of subjectivism made into a theological position ... the irrational subjectivity of a venture of faith with no justification outside itself" (Theology and the Philosophy of Science, p.273).

In his strong reaction against Barth's theology, Pannenberg suggests that, if we do not follow him in his 'from below' approach, we must go the way of irrational authoritarianism. I think we should take care not to make too much of the 'from above - from below' contrast. When we are called upon to make confession of our faith in 'the Jesus Christ of the Bible', we are not being forced to choose between 'the Jesus of history' and 'the Christ of faith'. 

The 'Jesus' we are left with once he has been subjected to our particular understanding of the so-called 'assured results' of historical criticism is not the same as the Jesus of the Gospels. While Pannenberg's 'Jesus' may differ significantly from Bultmann's 'Jesus', it must e pointed out that the 'Jesus of the Gospels' does not emerge from Pannenberg's historical criticism entirely unscathed. Pannenberg is dismissive of the virgin birth and the pre-Easter Messianic consciousness. Why are they regarded as negotiable while the resurrection is presented as non-negotiable? I think it is because Pannenberg regards them as conflicting with the idea of historical contingency. Are the virgin birth and the pre-Easter  Messianic consciousness inconsistent with the idea that, in his resurrection, Jesus was declared to be the Son of God?

In view of Pannenberg's statement, "Viewed from the confirmation of Jesus' claim by his resurrection, the inner logic of the situation dictates that Jesus was always one with God ... even before his earthly birth" (Jesus: God and Man, p. 153), we might ask whether he might not have taken the virgin birth and the pre-Easter Messianic consciousness more seriously that he has done. If God raised Jesus from the dead, why should we be so hesitant to believe the simple, uncomplicated statement of Scripture - "This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about ... Before they came together she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit." Concerning the pre-Easter Messianic consciousness, we might well ask, Is it more reasonable to believe, as Pannenberg does, that the resurrection declared Jesus to be what he had not claimed to be than to believe that the resurrection declared him to be what he had claimed to be.

Another question concerning Pannenberg's use of the concept of the retroactive effect of Jesus' resurrection centres on Jesus' view of Scripture and his use of Scripture - "It is written." Pannenberg speaks of the retroactive effect of Jesus' resurrection: "That God is revealed in Jesus can only be asserted on the basis of his resurrection from the dead ... If Jesus as a person is 'the Son of God', as becomes clear retroactively from his resurrection, then he has always been the Son of God" (Jesus: God and Man, p. 141).  We might ask whether, as well as retroactively validating Jesus as the Son of God, the resurrection might also be a retroactive validation of Jesus' approach to Scripture  - when we say, 'Scripture says', we are saying, 'God says'. In his book, A Half Century of Theology, G. C. Berkouwer has written a chapter on "The Voice of Karl Barth". Raising the question, "What would Barth have said to Pannenberg?", he suggests that Barth would have asked Pannenberg "for more exegesis, more understanding of the Word" (p.71).  I think the question must be raised concerning Pannenberg's approach to Scripture - "Has he been rather selective in using those parts of Scripture which he adjudges to be most useful to his apologetic while disregarding those passages of Scripture which he considers to be less useful? 

By raising these questions, I am calling in question Pannenberg's radical contrast between the 'from above' and 'from below' approaches. When we read the Gospel story concerning events which happened on earth (below), we are gripped by the mighty miracle of his resurrection. We become aware of Christ as the one who came from heaven (above). We look back to other events such as the virgin birth and the pre-Easter Messianic consciousness, and we see them in a new light. They are no longer seen as events about which we should remain sceptical. Our faith in the virgin birth and the pre-Easter Messianic consciousness are not the result of blind faith, something that is arbitrarily imposed on us 'from above'.  They are part of our response response to the Gospel story concerning the great event which has taken place on earth (below) - the resurrection of Christ. Reading and receiving with faith what the Scripture declare to us concerning his resurrection, we do not find it so difficult to believe what the Scriptures say to us concerning these earlier Gospel events.

What are we to make of Pannenberg's theology?

Berkouwer describes Pannenberg's theological anthropology (his 'from below' approach) as "a dynamic apologetic theology" (A Half Century of Theology,p. 167). He does, however, raise questions about how much we can expect from Pannenberg's apologetic approach. How seriously can we take Pannenberg's bold criticism of   theological positivism as an "intellectually non-obligatory, merely subjectively accepted supernaturalistic standpoint" (Basic Questions in Theology,  Volume II, p. 69, cited by Berkouwer, A Half Century of Theology, p. 169)?  Emphasizing that every apologetic (Pannenberg's included) is person-relative in the sense that it depends for its value on a willingness to the accept the gospel's presuppositions, Berkouwer raises the question, whether Pannenberg's apologetic "would actually be effective in dialogue withe modern atheism’. He wonders "to what extent his analysis of the human condition is convincing, and ... whether it would in fact open the listener to the meaningfulness of the Christian religion and the perspectives of the Christian future" (A Half Century of Theology, p. 176). In our declaration of the gospel of Christ, we need both courage and humility. We need courage - "Always be prepared to give the reason for the hope that you have". We need humility - "Do this ("Give the reason ... ") with gentleness and respect" (1 Pete 3:15-16).  

Pannenberg maintains that there is "no essential contradiction in basing a sue trust on an event which we can know historically only with probability" (Theology as History, p. 273). Others are less confident that Pannenberg's theology can deliver as much as he promises. A. D. Galloway suggests that Pannenberg "tries to make history do too much for him" (Wolfhart Pannenberg, p.136). W. Hamilton makes this point even more strongly. While acknowledging Pannenberg's "attack on Bultmann" to be "one of the most useful and needed attacks in our day", he maintains that "it remains to e seen how effective and decisive has been Pannenberg's attempt to separate himself from the persuasive Bultmannian position". Hamilton explains himself thus: "Pannenberg, with his special understanding of historical method, is doing much the same thing as Bultmann is doing with his distinction between  Geschichte and Historie ... He is looking for a way to translate statements concerning past events into statements about the present life of faith. Pannenberg's subjectivism is not that of experience but of historical methodology. But his way seems fully as escapist as does Bultmann's" ("The  Character of Pannenberg's Theology", in Theology as History, edited by J. M. Robinson and J. B. Cobb Jr., pp.177, 192-193). Pannenerg  accepts Kirn's definition of the historical method - "a historical conclusion can be regarded as certain when ... despite the fact that it is not removed from all possible attacks, it is nevertheless in agreement with all the known facts" (Basic Questions in Theology, Volume l, p. 54). We may welcome Pannenberg's emphasis on the resurrection as a much more biblical theology than Bultmann's demythologizing of the gospel. We must, however, ask whether Pannenberg's way of leading us to faith in the risen Christ, by way of the historical method, does not leave us at the mercy of scholarly opinion. Some theologians speak of the historical reliability of the New Testament. Others are sceptical of every reference to the miraculous, arguing that it all has to be demythologized. Pannenberg stands between these two positions, affirming the historicity of the resurrection while remaining unconvinced about the historical value of other parts of the Gospel story. In the face of the shifting sands of scholarly opinion, I think we have to say that historical research can take us so far along the road to faith, laying the evidence before us and inviting us to make up our mind.It cannot take us all the way to faith. Once we have weighed up the  evidence, we must choose which way we will go - the way of faith or the way of unbelief.

Recognizing the limitations of historical research does not mean that we must retreat into a blind faith that has no intellectual integrity. It does mean that, once historical research has taken us as far as it can, we still have to take a step of faith. It's not a leap in the dark. It's a step into the light which shines into our lives when we turn our eyes upon Jesus, the light of the world. When we look at all that the Scripture tell us about  Jesus, we will see that he willingly submitted himself to the Scriptures. We must learn from Christ's attitude to Scripture. We must follow him. Here, we will learn from Barth: "God himself says what the text says. The work of God is done through the text ... If God speaks to man, he really peaks the language of this concrete word of man ... There is ... the hearing of the word of God only in the concrete form of the  biblical word", "We must study it (the Bible), for it is here or nowhere that we shall find its divinity". "The inspiration of the Bile cannot e reduced to our faith in it". "Scripture is recognized as the word of God by the fact that it is the word of God" (Church Dogmatics, I, 2, pp. 532, 463, 534, 537). 

The Spirit, the Scriptures and salvation

In his post, The perspicuity of Scripture, Ben Myers quotes from Berkouwer's "fine book", Holy Scripture (Grand Rapids, Eerdmans, 1975), p. 275.

He begins his post, "Reformation theologians spoke of the "clarity" or "perspicuity of Scripture ... According to Reformation theology, the message of salvation shines out clearly from Scripture through the power of the Holy Spirit."

He emphasizes that "the confession of perspicuity meant that through the witness of the Spirit the message of the gospel becomes clear and compelling here and now as the Bible is read and (especially) preached."

He, then, quotes Berkouwer, " ...  According to the Reformers, the force behind this connection of message and words was the power of the Spirit ... "