Bruce L. McCormack, Orthodox and Modern: Studies in the Theology of Karl Barth (Baker Academic, 2008), 320 pp; £15.00/ $32.00 [Review copy courtesy of Baker Academic]
It is easy to forget just how good a reader of nineteenth-century theology Bruce McCormack really is. Given the stature and boldness of his proposal regarding Jesus Christ as the subject of election (and the many implications that follow from it), the other many facets of his work have, of late, tended to be darkened by its shadow. Interestingly, McCormack’s renown has come about, chiefly, by his identification as the reader primarius of Karl Barth’s theological development, particularly as this development is situated within its surrounding historical context. In fact, without indulging too much in haliolatry, I think it would be safe to say, that if you want to get to grips with Barth, that is, if you want answers to the kinds of questions Barth was preoccupied with, one of the voices you should be listening to is that of Bruce McCormack.
While the entire collection of essays brims over with the kind of meticulous research and able marshalling of the sources one has come to expect from McCormack, it is in the first of the four sections that the reader is given a clear and firm reminder of why reading McCormack so compelling and, indeed, necessary. The motivation for some readers to get to the juicy material (and by juicy, I mean the material found under the title ‘Karl Barth’s Theological Ontology’) is naturally understandable but in so doing one bypasses over 100 pages of important stuff. Because a substantial part of McCormack’s project is devoted to offering an ‘orthodox’ profile of Barth, time has to be given to an analysis of those factors that facilitate such a position. As McCormack explains, ‘…what Barth was doing, in the end, was seeking to understand what it means to be orthodox under the conditions of modernity‘ (17). Continue reading
What is the relationship between the believer’s union with Christ and his or her obedience to Christ’s teaching?
Our answer to that question is incredibly important not only for retaining the gracious character of the Gospel, but our language of salvation and Christian obedience says a great deal as well about our theology of the Christian life.
Toward sparking some discusson about the relationships we form between our theology of salvation and the Christian life, let’s consider the controversial (to some) reinterpretation of Martin Luther by the Finnish scholar Tuomo Mannermaa. As I have read, and reread, Mannermaa’s interpretation of Luther, I can’t figure out how Mannermaa’s theology of union with Christ doesn’t completely obscure the role of the Spirit in the Christian life. Consider the following from Christ Present in Faith: Luther’s View of Justification:
The logic of [Luther's] thinking is as follows: In faith, human beings are really united with Christ. Christ, in turn, is both the forgiveness of sins and the effective producer of everything that is good in them. Therefore “sanctification” – is, in fact, only another name for the same phenomenon of which Luther speaks when discussing the communication of attributes, the happy exchange, and the union between the person of Christ and that of the believer. Christ is the true subject and agent of good works in the believer, as illustrated for example, by the following passage: Continue reading
Describing the crucifixion, “God on the Cross”, Nietzsche reminds us of its perennial ability to disturb: “Till now there was never and nowhere such an audacity in reversal, something so fearful, questioning and questionable as this formula.” And in our day we continue questioning, probing, reformulating, and grappling with the possible – and impossible – implications of it. A live example is the current discussion on the link between violence and the atonement. Is the cross an instance of divine and human violence, or is it an instance only of human violence – of evil plotting alone?
Having recently reviewed a book on nonviolent atonement theory, Stricken by God?, I was left with a question to which I only hinted in the review and would like to explore further here. Why is the doctrine of providence and its relationship to atonement rarely, if ever, discussed? Related to this, why do I think this is noteworthy or even just curious?
Atonement and Providence
To invoke the doctrine of providence is to bring two issues to the fore – both of which have direct significance for doctrines of atonement: (1) the character of the actors in the drama of redemption (God and creatures) and (2) the relationship between divine and human action.
With that in mind, I have two suggestions. First, if it does concern itself with those realities then the doctrine of providence, though not mentioned in the present discussions about the relationship between atonement and violence, has determinative significance for one’s doctrine of atonement. Second, by allowing the doctrine of providence to function more “transparently” we gain a sense for how doctrines of the atonement assume certain models of providence and, just so, become more informed to judge whether they can be sustained, given their implications for providence.
Part of my concern is pastoral and the other doctrinal. Continue reading
When describing the nature of salvation and the Christian life, the conceptual options are many. As of late, one of the more popular has been “participation” (due, in part, to renewed interest among Protestants in Patristic voices such as Irenaeus, St. Athanasius, Gregory Nazianzen, Maximus the Confessor, and Gregory Palamas).
Consider, for example, how Paul Fiddes describes the participation of human persons in God:
We dwell and dance in triune spaces. The room that God makes for us within God’s own self is not a widening of the gap between individual subjects, but the opening up of intervals within the interweaving movements of giving and receiving (p. 54).
The comprehensiveness of Christ as incarnate wisdom consists therefore in his relationship as Son to Father. This relationship in which Christ participates within the communion of God’s life comprehends the infinite aspects of all relations of giving and receiving in God. The filial relationship of this particular human son [Christ] to God exactly corresponds to the movement of relationship within God which is like that between a son and a father; thus, in Christ, human sonship is the same as divine sonship not only in function but in being, since relations in God are more being-full than anything else. Continue reading