The Distinction Between Law and Gospel as the Basis and Boundary of Theological Reflection (Dogmatik in Der Moderne) 9783161545498, 9783161595523, 3161545494

Citation preview

Dogmatik in der Moderne Edited by Christian Danz, Jörg Dierken, Hans-Peter Großhans und Friederike Nüssel

16

John D. Koch, Jr.

The Distinction Between Law and Gospel as the Basis and Boundary of Theological Reflection

Mohr Siebeck

John D. Koch, Jr., born 1977; 2000 graduated from Washington & Lee University; 2007 MDiv from Trinity School for Ministry; 2014 Dr. theol. in Systematic Theology at the University of Humboldt in Berlin, Germany; 2012 called to St. Francis in the Fields in Louisville, KY; since 2014 fourth Rector of St. Francis.

ISBN 978-3-16-154549-8 / eISBN 978-3-16-159552-3 ISSN 1869-3962 (Dogmatik in der Moderne) The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliographie; detailed bibliographic data are available on the Internet at http:// dnb.dnb.de. © 2016 Mohr Siebeck, Tübingen, Germany. www.mohr.de This book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, in any form (beyond that permitted by copyright law) without the publisher’s written permission. This applies particularly to reproductions, translations, microfilms and storage and processing in electronic systems. The book was printed by Laupp & Göbel in Gomaringen on non-aging paper and bound by Buchbinderei Nädele in Nehren. Printed in Germany.

This book is dedicated to Liza, Tucker, and John. “Did we in our strength confide, our striving would be losing; were not the right man on our side, the man of God’s own choosing: dost ask who that may be? Christ Jesus, it is he; Lord Sabbaoth, his Name, from age to age the same, and he must win the battle.”

Hymnal 1982: according to the use of the Episcopal Church #687 Words: Martin Luther (1483–1546); tr. Frederic Henry Hedge (1805–1890); based on Psalm 46 Music: Ein feste Burg, melody Martin Luther (1483–1546); harm. Hans Leo Hassler (1564–1612), alt.

Preface and Acknowledgements This book is the fruit of many years of research and reflection on the relationship of the distinction between law and gospel to the doctrine of justification by faith alone. It was written under the supervision of Professor Dr. Notger Slenczka at Humboldt Universität zu Berlin, and subsequently improved by incorporating not only his helpful comments, but also those of my second reader, The Rev. Dr. Steven Paulson and the editors at Mohr Siebeck. This is a sustained look at the history, development, challenges, and defense of seeing the distinction between law and gospel not as merely one theological locus among others, but inherent to the very subjectum theologiae – the subject matter of theology – itself, which is the relationship between the sinful human being and the justifying god. Although it was initially conceived as a way of integrating theological voices from across the Atlantic, particularly in the work of the German Lutheran Oswald Bayer and American Lutheran Gerhard O. Forde, through its development it became clear that this question of the role of the law is a topic of discussion across multiple disciplines and confessions. What resulted from this research is the conviction that in any given theological system, the determining factor for its conceptualization, articulation, and implementation is how the law is understood theologically. Consequently, this work expanded to touch on questions of ecumenical relationships, modern exegetical conversations, ethical and dogmatic concerns, and, finally, and of primary importance, pastoral practice. Although there have been countless people who have helped me over these past 7 years, there are some without whom I would not have been ablet to persevere. I am deeply indebted to my Doktorvater, Professor Dr. Slenczka, the Rev. Dr. Paul F. M. Zahl, the Rev. Dr. Steven Paulson, and the Rev. Dr. J. Ashley Null for their support and guidance over the years, and to David Svihel for his help with formatting and editing. Finally, and most importantly, I am thankful for the unfailing support of my family, and in particular my wife, Liza, without whom none of this would have been possible. Louisville, April 2016

John D. Koch, Jr.

Table of Contents Preface and Acknowledgements ................................................................. vii Table of Contents ......................................................................................... ix

Chapter 1: The 21st Century Ecumenical Consensus on Justification ............................................................................... 1 A. Introduction .............................................................................................. 1 B. Oratio, Meditatio, Tentatio ....................................................................... 6 C. The Claim on Luther and the Claim to Justification ................................. 9 D. The Relationship between Justification .................................................. 11 E. Structure and Methodology .................................................................... 19

Chapter 2: The Evolution of a Rejection .................................. 26 A. Robert Jenson: A Case in Point .............................................................. 26 B. Jenson, Ebeling, and Eschatology .......................................................... 30 C. The Materia Legis .................................................................................. 34 D. The Influence of Ebeling on Forde ......................................................... 39 E. Conclusion .............................................................................................. 43

Chapter 3: Towards a Positive Construal ................................. 44 A. Law and Gospel and the subjectum theologiae ....................................... 44 B. “The Ground and Limit of Theology” .................................................... 46 C. Proclamation and Reality ....................................................................... 49 D. Conclusion ............................................................................................. 51

X

Table of Contents

Chapter 4: The 20th Century Developments ............................. 54 A. ‘Anfechtung’ Over Law and Gospel ........................................................ 54 B. David Yeago and the “Twin Temptations” ............................................. 55 C. Karl Holl and the Gospel of the Law ...................................................... 61 D. Karl Barth and “Gospel and Law” ........................................................ 72 E. From Barth to Jenson ............................................................................. 82 F. Conclusion .............................................................................................. 90

Chapter 5: Luther, Paul, and the Law ...................................... 94 A. Abusus Non Tollit Usum ......................................................................... 94 B. The Psychology of the “Lutheran Paul” ................................................. 96 I. The New Perspective on “Introspective Conscience” ...................... 97 II. Pannenberg and “Eucharistic Spirituality” ................................... 108 III. Rudolf Bultmann: A Man More Sinned Against than Sinning .............................................................................................. 111 IV. Simul Iustus Et Peccator ............................................................. 115 C. The “German Luther(an)” Discussion ................................................. 117 I. Faith, Ontology, and the Trinity .................................................... 117 II. Maledicta Sit Caritas .................................................................... 127 III. Martin Luther “Along the Lines of Ebeling”............................... 130 D. Conclusion ........................................................................................... 139

Chapter 6: An Ontology of the “Word of God” ......................142 A. Ex-Centric Being .................................................................................. 142 B. Saving Faith Alone ............................................................................... 146 C. Creation as Address ............................................................................. 153 D. Verbum Externum ................................................................................. 159 E. Reading the Voice of God ..................................................................... 168 F. The Empty Theater ................................................................................ 177 G. Fake Theology ...................................................................................... 185 H. Conclusion: The Resonance of Faith .................................................... 191

Table of Contents

XI

Appendix 1 Theses for Disputation ........................................................... 195 Bibliography ............................................................................................. 207 Name Index ............................................................................................... 221 Subject Index ............................................................................................ 225 Index of Biblical References ..................................................................... 227

Chapter 1

The 21st Century Ecumenical Consensus on Justification A. Introduction At the turn of the 20th century, during a lecture to the Versammlung der Freunde der Christlichen Welt, Karl Holl observed that, for many 19th century exegetes and theologians, elevating the doctrine of justification to that of the articulus stantis et cadentis ecclesiae was no longer either warranted or tenable.1 Almost a century later, at the end of his massive and seminal work on the history and development of the doctrine of justification, Iustitia Dei, Alistair McGrath observed that very little has changed, and that the latter half of the 20th century observed a “marginalization of the concept within both biblical studies and Christian dogmatics;”2 however, between these two accounts the intervening years witnessed theological developments that were, writes David Ford, “unprecedented not only in quality, but also in variety,”3 which have contributed mightily to an increased appreciation for the ecumenical, if not dogmatic, possibilities of this doctrine. According to Ford, the 20th century saw the meteoric rise of both “Particularizing Theologies” (these which were “often highly specific in their orientation or local in context” 4) as well as an historically unique enlivening of the ecumenical movement, which has “led many religious bodies from 1

Karl Holl, Die Rechtfertigungslehre im Licht der Geschichte des Protestantismus (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1906), 1–3. For similar account of 19th century developments, see Eberhard Jüngel, Justification: The Heart of the Christian Faith: A Theological Study with an Ecumenical Purpose (London: T&T Clark, 2006). 2 Alistair McGrath, Iustitia Dei: A History of the Christian Doctrine of Justification (Cambridge: CUP, 1993), 420. 3 David Ford, The Future of Christian Theology (Oxford: Wiley–Blackwell, 2011), 9– 10. 4 Ibid., 10. His examples: “black theology of liberation; Latin American liberation theology; African, South Asian, and East Asian theologies; and postcolonial biblical interpretation. The list could have gone on almost indefinitely, and new types are constantly arising. Indeed, one safe prediction for the coming century is that such particularizing theologies will multiply as more and more 'niches' in the complex religious, cultural, and environmental ecosystem of our world discover the desirability of theological wisdom.”

2

The 21st Century Ecumenical Consensus on Justification

situations of confrontation and even conflict to conversation and collaboration with each other.” 5 Both the growth of these “Particularizing Theologies” and the emergence of a worldwide ecumenical dialogue resulted in a critical reevaluation of “classic” historic theologies. This brought into question the universal legitimacy of certain long-held theological frameworks that were understood to be either narrowly enculturated, anachronistic, or both. “Just as feminist critiques made us aware how masculine much theology is,” explains Ford, “so classic German and other European and American theologies now seem far more a part of their own time, place, and tradition.” 6 During the 20th century, of the representations and aspects of these “classic theologies” that seem “more a part of their own time, place, and tradition,” few, if any, were as widely discussed and debated as Martin Luther’s theology and the “Lutheran” formulation of the doctrine of justification by faith.7 As a result of all of this renewed interest at the beginning of the 21st century, justification by faith is emerging not as the definitive mark of church division, but rather as one of the most promising and fruitful avenues of ecumenical discussion.8 Indeed, such was the convergence of thought concerning this doctrine that on October 31, 1999 representatives of the Lutheran World Federation and the Roman Catholic Church met in Augsburg to sign the “Official Common Statement” on the “Joint Declaration of Justification,” which, under section 3 entitled “The Common Understanding of Justification,” states: The Lutheran churches and the Roman Catholic Church have together listened to the good news proclaimed in Holy Scripture. This common listening, together with the theological conversations of recent years, has led to a shared understanding of justification. This

5

Ibid., 9. Ibid., 10. 7 For an exhaustive survey of literature devoted to 20th century Luther studies see Egil Grislis, “Luther in Review: Approaches in Major Studies: A Bibliographical Perspective,” Word and World 3, no. 4 (1983). 8 To this point, see Michael Root, “Continuing the Conversation: Deeper Agreement on Justification as Criterion and on the Christians as iustus et peccator,” in Wayne Stumme, The Gospel of Justification in Christ: Where Does the Church Stand Today? (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2006), 43, where he writes, “In this contribution, I will look too briefly at two issues often mentioned as requiring further discussion: the doctrine of justification as criterion of Christian speech and practice, and the Christian as justified and a sinner at the same time, simul iustus et peccator. In each case, my argument will be the same. I do not believe that major substantive differences stand between Lutherans and Catholics (or, more broadly, between Protestants and Catholics) in relation to either topic. [emphasis added].” 6

Introduction

3

encompasses a consensus in the basic truths; the differing explications in particular statements are compatible with it.9

On the basis of this consensus, in the “Official Common Statement,” the Lutheran World Federation and the Catholic Church declared together that: The teaching of the Lutheran Churches presented in the Declaration does not fall under the condemnations from the Council of Trent. The condemnations in the Lutheran Confessions do not apply to the teaching of the Roman Catholic Church presented in this Declaration (JD 41).10

They concluded by stating, “By this act of signing The Catholic Church and The Lutheran World Federation confirm the Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification in its entirety.”11 Despite significant objections to this – including 243 German university theology teachers and professors12 – and various Lutheran church bodies,13 many churches and theologians welcomed the developments as a step toward the visible unity that has eluded the Christian church for centuries.14 For example, in 2003 Carl E. Braaten and Robert W. Jenson wrote an open letter “to the Churches of North America, Judicatories, Ecumenical Agencies, Ecumenical Officers, Laity and Clergy,” which prefaced a document entitled In One Body Through the Cross: The Princeton Proposal for Christian Unity, explaining that, “the signing of the Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification by the Roman Catholic Church and the Lutheran World Federation

9

Lutheran World Federation “Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification,” http://www.lutheranworld.org/LWF_Documents/EN/JDDJ_99–jd97e.pdf3#14 (accessed December 10, 2010). 10 Lutheran World Federation “Official Common Statement,” http://www.lutheran world.org/LWF_Documents/EN/JDDJ_99–gof99e.pdf (accessed December 10, 2010). 11 Ibid., 1. 12 See “Erklärung evangelischer Theologinnen und Theologen,” in Rechtfertigung kontrovers: Die gemeinsame Erklärung zur Rechtfertigungslehre im Gespräch der Konfessionen, ed. Constance Kraft (Berlin: WDL–Verl., 2000), 41. For a list of signatories, as well as a translation in English, see Mark Menacher “German Professors Protest JDDJ” http://wordalone.org/docs/wa–german–professors.shtml (accessed May 10, 2013). 13 Richard Schenk, “The Unsettled German Discussions of Justification: Abiding Differences and Ecumenical Blessings,” Dialog 44, no. 2 (2005): 152–163; Samuel H. Nafzger, “Joint Declaration on Justification: A Missouri Synod Perspective,” Concordia Journal 27, no. 3 (2001): 178–195; John A Maxfield, ed. A Justification Odyssey (St. Louis: The Luther Academy, 2002). 14 See Armand J. Boehme, “Tributaries Into the River JDDJ: Karl Holl and Luther's Doctrine of Justification,” LOGIA (2009): 1–16, for an example of how ecumenically minded theologians are utilizing the consensus as a basis for dialogue. As an example of the wide–reaching, inter–disciplinary effects of this concordat see David E. Aune, Rereading Paul Together: Protestant and Catholic Perspectives on Justification (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2006).

4

The 21st Century Ecumenical Consensus on Justification

‘consigned to oblivion’ the mutual condemnations of the Reformation era.”15 Despite such pronouncements, however, the debate is very much unsettled. In response to these ecumenical developments, Hans J. Hillerbrand, in his article “Was there a Reformation in the Sixteenth Century?” argues that, “Protestant church historians (and theologians) have been forced to rise to the challenge of discerning the implications of the challenge to the ‘newness’ of the Reformation.”16 In other words, those who wish to defend the claim that the Reformation was not a case of innovation, but rather a return to a message more faithful to the historic witness, have to readdress this fundamental conviction. For Lutheran theologian Gerhard Forde – one of the major subjects of this study – the lack of theological clarity among the parties involved (those announcing that the end of the “mutual condemnations” are “consigned to oblivion”) makes those very underlying theological questions even more acute. Commenting on the JDDJ, he asks, “What does the ‘solemn and binding’ agreement that the condemnations of the Reformation era no longer strike today’s ecumenical partners imply?” He continues, “Why ‘no longer’? Did they strike somebody before? If so, who ducked?”17 These questions echo the criticisms levied by the aforementioned 243 signatories of the “Erklärung evangelischer Theologinnen und Theologen,” who argued that despite the areas of agreement, the central points of dispute that lie at the heart of the enduring division between the churches remain. These points of dispute include the “meaning of word and faith for justification,” the “certainty of salvation,” the “critical function of the doctrine of justification,” and of particular interest to this study, “the unresolved consensus over the relationship between law and gospel.”18 Despite Forde’s unanswered questions and the unresolved tensions pointed out by the signatories of the Erklärung, for an increasing number of people – both within the theological academy and with15

Carl E. Braaten and Robert W. Jenson, One Body Through the Cross: The Prince ton Proposal for Christian Unity (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2003), 6–7. 16 Hans J. Hillerbrand, “Was There a Reformation in the Sixteenth Century?” Church History 72, no. 3 (2003): 550. To the issue at hand, on page 531 he writes, “If the turn to history marked the foremost characteristic of the past generation of Reformation studies, there were several other notable characteristics. One was the breaking down of barriers that had traditionally separated various strands of Reformation scholarship. This breakdown means that Reformation scholarship ceased to be the more or less exclusive province of German and Scandinavian scholars of Lutheran persuasions (and their compatriots), with their concomitant value judgments. Reformation scholarship became both ecumenical and more comprehensive. Catholic Reformation scholarship began to make major contributions to our understanding of the sixteenth century course of events. It entered into the conversation with Reformation scholarship at large.” 17 Gerhard O. Forde, “The Apocalyptic No and the Eschatological Yes,” A More Radical Gospel: Essays on Eschatology, Authority, Atonement, and Ecumenism, eds. Mark C. Mattes and Steven D. Paulson (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2004), 31. 18 Kraft, Rechtfertigung kontrovers, 41.

Introduction

5

out – these no longer warrant continued division; consequently, many scholars are beginning to ask, “Is the Reformation Over?”19 Underlying this question is an ever-growing tension between societal evolution and the Christian faith – between the “church” and the “world” – that is becoming increasingly acute. This is the underlying tension, as recognized by Reinhard Hütter – a former Lutheran theologian, now Roman Catholic – who writes: The dynamic of advanced modernity seems to be pushing the Protestant churches in two directions: either towards an incessantly increasing intensification of the understanding of “religion” and “faith” as essentially private gnosis or experience made “relevant” through various subject-centered activities; or toward objectified, increasingly reified forms of faith designed to counter the subversive dynamic of modernity itself, as is certainly the case in biblical fundamentalism. These two Protestant reactions to modernity do share one common feature: in their wake the church as a genuine “public” is lost.20

Here, Hütter hints at a core problem that underlies not only this entire work, but also the current state of theology today, namely, how is the Christian church to respond to the pressures of an ever-changing culture? Does the Church submit her preaching to the criticisms and presuppositions of the culture, or does she challenge them? Here, we have a debate over relevance and plausibility that is undertaken by default by anyone attempting to articulate the Christian faith.21 While the sociological aspects of this conflict are beyond the scope of this present study, the effects that they are having on the nature of theological discussion are not. If, as Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote, “The Church is always on the battlefield . . . struggling to prevent the world from becoming the Church and the Church from becoming the world,”22 there are an increasing number of theologians arguing that an insistence on a doctrine of justification by faith alone and the distinction between law and gospel have effectively disarmed the modern church against her foes. This is the contention against which this entire work is directed, because in the doctrine of justification by faith alone and the distinction between law and gospel we have been given the most effective tools to prevent what Bonhoeffer feared. This distinction between the church and the world – this battle, as Bonhoeffer 19 See Geoffrey Wainwright, Is the Reformation Over? (Milwaukee: Marquette University Press, 2000); and Mark A. Noll and Carolyn Nystrom, Is the Reformation Over? An Evangelical Assessment of Contemporary Roman Catholicism (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2005). 20 Reinhard Hütter, Suffering Divine Things: Theology As Church Practice (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2000), 3. 21 To this entire question, see the seminal work by George Lindbeck, The Nature of Doctrine: Religion and Theology in a Postliberal Age (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1984); and Charles Taylor, A Secular Age (Cambridge: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2007). 22 Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship (New York: Macmillan, 1959), 252.

6

The 21st Century Ecumenical Consensus on Justification

called it – is most clearly diagnosed, articulated, and subsequently addressed in the outworking of the doctrine of justification by faith by the distinguishing of law and gospel; through it we learn the true nature of the relationship between human beings and God.23 When this right relationship – protected as it is by these doctrines – is maintined, then the power of the church is directed rightly and the content of her proclamation is constrained appropriately. This limitng function prohibits the church and her preachers from losing touch with the realities of human existence under the “curse of the law” (Gal. 3:10). It was a deep awareness of the pervasiveness of this curse that drove Luther to find its cure in the preaching of the Gospel and it will be instructive to observe how this developed in Luther’s thought before proceeding. As will be shown, Luther’s appreciation of the plight of human existence found its descriptive appellation in what would become an essential and foundational theological concept: Anfechtung.24

B. Oratio, Meditatio, Tentatio In Martin Luther’s preface to the Wittenberg edition of his writings, using Psalm 119 as his interpretive matrix, he articulates what he calls the “correct way of studying theology”: If you keep to it, you will become so learned that you yourself could (if it were necessary) write books just as good as those of the fathers and councils, even as I (in God) dare to presume and boast, without arrogance and lying, that in the matter of writing books I do not stand much behind some of the fathers. Of my life I can by no means make the same boast. This is the way taught by holy King David (and doubtlessly used also by all the

23 See Gerhard Ebeling, “Das rechte Unterscheiden: Luthers Anleitung zu theologischer Urteilskraft,” Neue Zeitschrift für systematische Theologie und Religionsphilosophie 85 (1988): 220, where he describes the distinction between law and gospel as a “battle for existence” (Lebenskampf). Of this battle, he continues, “Deshalb erledigt sich hier gar nichts, vielmehr wird ein Kampfgeschehen in Gang gesetzt, das bis zum Tode währt. Das Unterscheiden, das Luther meint, bedeutet offenbar einen ganz tiefen Eingriff in das Leben und hat mit dessen widersinniger Verworrenheit zu tun” (223). 24 To the concept in Luther, the enduring significance, and the profundity of his insight with respect to it as a theological concept, see Athina Lexutt, “In Praise of Anfechtung.” Lutheran Quarterly 27, no. 1 (Wint 2013): 439–442, where she writes, “Anfechtung fit into the sixteenth century as little as it does in ours. It belonged on the list of endangered words because no one wanted anything to do with Anfechtung. Anfechtung has nothing to do with lively culture and creative politics. It would probably not occur to anyone today to write in praise of Anfechtung. As something negative, it should simply be overcome and forgotten. As a weakness, defeated. As a failure, hidden under the cloak of silence” (439).

Oratio, Meditatio, Tentatio

7

patriarchs and prophets) in the one hundred nineteenth Psalm. There you will find three rules, amply presented throughout the whole Psalm. They are Oratio, Meditatio, Tentatio.25

With these three “rules,” Luther has introduced a word, tentatio, or Anfechtung in German, one that he explains is, “the touchstone which teaches you not only to know and understand, but also to experience how right, how true, how sweet, how lovely, how mighty, how comforting God’s Word is, wisdom beyond all wisdom.”26 Anfechtung, it will be seen, is the concept within Luther’s thought that fundamentally determines his theological program and, as such, is essential to a right appreciation of the doctrine of justification by faith alone and the distinction between law and gospel. Even though Anfechtung is variously translated in the American Edition of Luther’s Works as “temptation,” “trial,” “affliction,” and “tribulation,” David Scaer argues that it is better left untranslated because it is “better understood not as one vocable in Luther’s vocabulary, but as a one-word theological concept.”27 This concept, for Luther, represents what he considers to be a universal battle for meaning and reality in a world that is often devoid of selfevident answers. In essence, this is the word that describes a life lived in a world devoid of answers to the simple question, “why?” This is why he can consider both the Christian and the non-Christian to be “theologians,” i.e., people who contemplate the existence or non-existence of god in light of lived human reality. In the Myth of Sisyphus, Albert Camus argues that this question begged by life, this “why?” is the one that arises after the “stage-set” of life collapses and is the point at which “everything begins in that weariness tinged with amazement.”28 Oswald Bayer argues that the question “why?” is synonymous to the question of “who are you?” and thereby “considers every human being to be a theologian, and every believing person to be a Christian theologian.”29 What he means by this is that even a negative judgment on the existence of God constitutes a reflection on the nature of God, a reflection that is simultaneously a reflection on what it means to be human, because it still answers the question “who am I?” This concept, that everyone is a theologian, is crucial to an understanding of the importance of the subject matter under discussion, because it will be argued that the demands of the law, theo25 Martin Luther, Luther’s Works. vol. 34, eds. Jaroslav Pelikan and Helmut T. Lehmann (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1955–86), 285. 26 LW 34:286–287. 27 D. P. Scaer, “The Concept of Anfechtung in Luther's Thought,” Concordia Theological Quarterly 47, no. 1 (1983): 15. 28 A. Camus, “The Myth of Sisyphus,” in The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays, trans. Justin O’Brien (New York: Vintage Books, 1983 (1955)), 12. To this question of the “why?” as a universal theological question, see Roger Scruton, The Face of God (London: Continuum, 2012). 29 Oswald Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology: A Contemporary Interpreation, trans. Thomas H. Trapp (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2008) 16.

8

The 21st Century Ecumenical Consensus on Justification

logically understood, are not limited to those of moral command or concerns, but are more universally conceived of as those demands which force an answer to this question that confronts each and every human being.30 Closely tied to this concept of Anfechtung for Christian theological reflection, as we will see, is Luther’s appreciation for what Oswald Bayer calls his, “apocalyptic view about time, . . . that rupture in the ages between the new and the old aeon that took place once for all on the cross of Jesus Christ.”31 For Luther, it is this “rupture” within which the Christian is situated that makes the life of a theologian one marked by Anfechtung. As P.T Bühler explains, it is precisely the mark of Christian faith, i.e., the one that believes in a gracious and loving God, that makes the Anfechtung that much more acute. Christians are the ones who have come to believe in the Gospel and yet, “the hard, concrete experiences of life contradict what he had learned by faith.”32 How seriously one appreciates the severity of this apocalyptic “rupture” in his or her theological reflection – the one that is characterized by Anfechtung – is a crucially important factor in the outworking of his or her theological program. Indeed, in his essay entitled “Theological Reflections on the Law,” Gerhard Ebeling writes: It is a fundamentally different way of studying theology whether our thinking is carried on from the standpoint where God and the law obviously form a unity, or from one where that unity can be asserted only in the face of torment [Anfechtung]. Then of course the concept of law is very differently defined in the one case and in the other.33

With this observation, we have come to the central contention of this study, namely, that the doctrine of justification by faith and the distinction between law and gospel protect both the Church’s proclamation and an awareness of the person to whom that proclamation is directed, namely, sinners in the midst of lives marked by Anfechtung. In doing so, we take up the charge set forth by Mark Mattes and Jeffrey Silcock in their introduction to Theology the Lutheran Way, when they write: The most important task of academic theology is to continue to scrutinize the doctrine and worship of the church and to enter into vigorous debate with any unbiblical teaching, idea, or ideology that threatens to subvert the promise of the gospel, which we can only keep pure if we are vigilant in properly distinguishing between law and gospel.34

30

See the section entitled Verbum Externum below. Bayer, Martin Luther's Theology: A Contemporary Interpretation, 10. 32 P. T. Bühler, Die Anfechtung bei Martin Luther, p 7, quoted in Scaer, “The Concept of Anfechtung in Luther's Thought,” 15–16. 33 Gerhard Ebeling, “Reflections,” Word and Faith, trans. J. W. Leitch (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1963), 270. 34 Oswald Bayer, Theology the Lutheran Way, trans. Mark C. Mattes and Jeffrey G. Silcock (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2007), xvi. 31

The Claim on Luther and the Claim to Justification

9

In what follows, we will see how the importance of this distinction between law and gospel, while classically a primary concern of “Lutherans” and only secondarily – at best – that of other Evangelical35 traditions, has once again become a source of heated debate among theologians across the world.

C. The Claim on Luther and the Claim to Justification That there is significant interest in Martin Luther’s theology is a reflection of his importance to not just Lutheran theologians, but to all theologians who consider themselves heirs of the “Protestant Reformation,” because, as R. Scott Clark observes, “whoever controls the ‘Luther story’ has gained a powerful advantage in claiming to represent authentic Protestant teaching.”36 Accordingly therefore, anyone who wants to define the nature and significance of the doctrine of justification by faith attempts to incorporate the “real” Luther into his or her construal so as to buttress their claims. While this has, historically, resulted in emphasizing the uniqueness of Luther’s theological contribution over and against both Roman Catholics and other Protestant churches, the fact that there is no agreed upon “definitive Luther” has allowed more ecumenically minded theologians to harness the power of his association in defense of their programs. Indeed, just as Heinrich Boehmer observed, “there are as many Luthers as there are books about Luther,”37 so we will see 35

Although this word has many and varied connotations, with respect to non– Lutheran “Evangelical” churches we consider the Anglican Church, broadly understood, as having come out of this position. To this point, see Diarmaid MacCulloch in his essay, “Putting the English Reformation on the Map: the Prothero Lecture,” Transactions of the Royal Historical Society 15, no. 1 (2005): 81, where he writes, “There was then yet another English Reformation: the programme sought and put into effect as far as they dared by the group of politicians and senior clergy who had been rallied by Queen Anne Boleyn, Thomas Cromwell and Thomas Cranmer. I have labeled them evangelicals in previous writings, and I will not labor the point as to why I think this a better word than Protestant in the conditions of early Tudor England. Thanks to Boleyn, Cromwell and Cranmer, there was something of an evangelical establishment in Church and royal court, with constant if precarious access to power from 1531 right up to the old king’s death. This group started close to the beliefs of Martin Luther, because to begin with, as news of the Reformation filtered into England in the early 1520s, Luther seemed to be the only act in town.” 36 R. Scott Clark, “Iustitia Imputata Christi: Alien or Proper to Luther's Doctrine of Justification?” Concordia Theological Quarterly 70 (2006): 271. He continues, “. . . for this reason there have been many Luthers: for pietists, Luther became the man of the Turmerlebnis; for modernists, the anti–authoritarian hero; and for some contemporary interpreters of Luther, he has become the theologian of theotic union with Christ.” We will address this directly in what follows. 37 Heinrich Boehmer, Luther im Lichte der neueren Forschung (Leipzig: B. G. Teubner, 1918), 5.

10

The 21st Century Ecumenical Consensus on Justification

that the debate over justification is as much a debate over competing claims to what is or is not authentically “Lutheran.” Among all of this renewed interest, however, as Theodor Dieter observes in his essay in The Global Luther is the reality that: Often the actual significance of the doctrine of justification remains unclear. The many discussions of the topic circulate repetitive formulas about the doctrine of justification without really dealing seriously with its subject matter. The doctrine’s motto as “the article by which the church stands or falls” is taken as an unquestioned and unexamined authority in many Lutheran circles. But what is the doctrine of justification, and why does it matter to us today?38

This question, or rather the general lack of consensus as to why justification by faith should remain so central a dividing line between churches has, paradoxically, allowed this once divisive doctrine to be one of the few areas that has brought together churches divided since the 16th century; as its actual theological significance wanes, it loses the polemical edge that has historically cut across denominational and church lines. Of all of the discussions surrounding this renewed interest in justification, one particularly interesting aspect is how many Lutheran theologians have begun to join the chorus of those advocating a rejection of the primacy of both justification by faith and the distinction between law and gospel. As we will see, some of these theologians, particularly those within the “Finnish Lutheran school,” are working within the boundaries of confessional Lutheranism and often appeal to Luther himself in defense of their emendation of traditional Lutheran teaching; however, for those outside of Lutheranism, this emerging interpretation of his theology has allowed Luther himself, when rid of these divisive assertions, to become a vehicle for ecumenical hopes. Nevertheless, and what is important for our purposes here, whether it is within Lutheranism39 or without,40 this increased attention on the doctrine of justification by faith has precipitated a renewed focus on the role and understanding of the law, theologically understood, in discussions around the world.

38

Theodore Dieter, “Why does Luther's Doctrine of Justification Matter Today?” in The Global Luther: A Theologian for Modern Times, trans. Christine Helmer (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2009), 190. 39 See Niels Gregersen, “Ten Theses on the Future of Lutheran Theology Charisms, Contexts, and Challenges,” Dialog 41, no. 4 (2002): 264–272 40 Greg L. Bahnsen, Five Views on Law and Gospel (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1996), 1.

The Relationship between Justification

11

D. The Relationship between Justification and the Distinction between Law and Gospel Within just one century, the doctrine of justification went from that which defined the division between Christian churches, to that which is no longer an impediment, but is actually the basis for an ever-growing unity.41 The speed with which this consensus changed is due, in no small part, to the work of 20th century theologians across the theological spectrum who were seeking to address a growing concern – one articulated by Avery Cardinal Dulles, S.J., in “Wisdom as the Source of Unity in Theology,” – that “Over the past fifty years we have all heard the repeated complaint, amounting sometimes to a lamentation, that theology has lost its unity.”42 During those 50 years, at41

Cf., the 1998 publication of the group called “Evangelicals and Catholics Together” called The Gift of Salvation. www.firstthings.com/article/2008/09/001–the–gift–of– salvation–28 (accessed May 10, 2011) 42 Avery Cardinal Dulles, S.J., “Wisdom as the Source of Unity in Theology,” eds., Michael Dauphinais and Matthew Levering, Wisdom and Holiness, Science and Scholarship: Essays in Honor of Matthew L. Lamb (Naples: Sapientia Press, 2007), 59–71, at 59f., quoted in Reinhard Hütter, “Theological Faith Enlightening Sacred Theology: Renewing Theology by Recovering Its Unity As Sacra Doctrinia,” The Thomist 74 (2010): 370. Hütter’s essay, written in 2010, is all the more pertinent in that it comes from a formerly Lutheran, now Roman Catholic, theologian and is an example of the fecund ecumenical results of the “consensus” on justification has had on theological discourse as a whole. In this essay, Hütter's examination of Walter Kasper's Die Methoden der Dogmatik – Einheit und Vielheit, he argues that the “the source for the renewal of contemporary Catholic theology” (372) is the conception of faith contrary to that “peculiar Lutheran, existential–hermeneutical understanding of faith dominant in the Germany of the 1950s and 1960s (Fuchs, Bultmann, Ebeling . . .” (383). As we will see, this and similar complaints against “German Lutherans” are routinely made by theologians across the theological spectrum. For example, Hütter references Pope Benedict's 2007 encyclical SPE SALVI which plainly states, “To Luther, who was not particularly fond of the Letter to the Hebrews, the concept of ‘substance,’ in the context of his view of faith, meant nothing. For this reason he understood the term hypostasis/substance not in the objective sense (of a reality present within us), but in the subjective sense, as an expression of an interior attitude, and so, naturally, he also had to understand the term argumentum as a disposition of the subject. In the twentieth century this interpretation became prevalent – at least in Germany – in Catholic exegesis too, so that the ecumenical translation into German of the New Testament, approved by the Bishops, reads as follows: Glaube aber ist: Feststehen in dem, was man erhofft, Überzeugtsein von dem, was man nicht sieht (faith is: standing firm in what one hopes, being convinced of what one does not see). This in itself is not incorrect, but it is not the meaning of the text, because the Greek term used (elenchtos) does not have the subjective sense of “conviction” but the objective sense of “proof.” Rightly, therefore, recent Protestant exegesis has arrived at a different interpretation: “Yet there can be no question but that this classical Protestant understanding is untenable.” Faith is not merely a personal reaching out towards things to come that are still totally absent: it gives us something. It gives us even now something of the reality we are waiting for, and

12

The 21st Century Ecumenical Consensus on Justification

tempts to regain a sense of theological unity among the disciplines brought the questions surrounding justification by faith and its theological significance out of the narrow confines of Lutheran (and particularly German Lutheran) and Reformed dogmatics and made it an issue for the entire Christian world. Not incidentally, concomitant with the increased attention to the doctrine of justification has come a renewed scrutiny over the relationship between law and gospel. Whether it is among exegetical discussions surrounding interest into second temple Judaism and the concept of the law in New Testament exegesis,43 or theological disagreements over the role of the law this present reality constitutes for us a “proof” of the things that are still unseen. Faith draws the future into the present, so that it is no longer simply a “not yet.” The fact that this future exists changes the present; the present is touched by the future reality, and thus the things of the future spill over into those of the present and those of the present into those of the future.” For the entire statement, see http://w2.vatican.va/content/benedictxvi/en/encyclicals/documents/hf_ben-xvi_enc_20071130_spe-salvi.html This disagreement over a supposed antithesis between faith understood as “conviction” and faith in an “objective sense of ‘proof’” is the point at which the objections of Hütter and Benedict's objections – objections shared by many, as we will see – to the “existentialized” Luther, indicate a fundamental misunderstanding in the way in which “ontology” is understood with respect to the doctrine of justification by Faith. Clarifying and addressing this misunderstanding is the major concern of this work. 43 In particular, disagreement concerning the meaning of πληρόω – translated as “fulfillment” in Matthew 5:17 (πληρῶσαι) and the question of what is meant by the term, “works of the law,” – ἔργων νόµου – in Paul (Romans 3:20). For a comprehensive treatment of this particular question and the dialogue between two differing viewpoints cf., James D. G. Dunn, The New Perspective on Paul, Rev. ed. (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2007). For a response, see Simon Gathercole, Where Is Boasting?: Early Jewish Soteriology and Paul's Response in Romans 1–5 (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2002). Similarly, see the exchange/debate between N. T. Wright and John Piper in N. T. Wright’s Justification: God's Plan and Paul's Vision (London: SPCK, 2009). See also, John Piper, Counted Righteous in Christ: Should We Abandon the Imputation of Christ's Righteousness? (Wheaton: Crossway Books, 2002). For one of the most recent and compendious treatments of the entire issue, see also Douglas A. Campbell, The Deliverance of God: An Apocalyptic Rereading of Justification in Paul. (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2009). Campbell’s book can be understood as representing a new, “new perspective.” From the outset he argues, “It is the conventional ‘Lutheran’ construal of the arguments of these distinctive texts, leading to an individualist, conditional, and contractual account of the whole notion of salvation, that arguably lies behind some of the most intractable interpretative conundrums in modern Pauline scholarship” (6). Throughout the book, I found his characterization of those who favored what he called “Justification theory” to be wildly incommensurate with the best of “Lutheran” scholarship on the issue until the conclusion, where he states, “It is very important to appreciate that this analysis is consequently not an attack on the gospel but an attack on a version of the gospel, and one that I maintain Paul himself would view as false. It is therefore a thoroughly evangelical discussion in both method and purpose. Moreover, the solution that I am aiming toward is deeply Protestant if not Lutheran” (934) [emphasis added]. While

The Relationship between Justification

13

(or lack thereof) in the “existential questions” confronting contemporary people,44 or complex discussions over the relationship between justification and “sanctification,”45 people from churches and confessions for whom this conceptual language was heretofore mostly foreign46 nevertheless find themthe veracity of his rereading of Romans is beyond both the scope and purpose of this study, it is worth noting that despite some serious reservations about some of his results, from a theological perspective I share many of his critiques of what he terms “Justification theory.” 44 As will be shown below, the argument among many is that the questions that Luther was asking, i.e., “How can I find a gracious God?” have less resonance with those questions of modern humans. cf., a document entitled “Justification Today” from the Assembly of the Lutheran World Federation from 1965 which states that, “The Reformation witness to justification by faith alone as the answer to the existential questions: ‘How Do I find a gracious God?,’ almost no one asks this question in the world in which we live today,” Proceedings of the Fourth Assembly of the Lutheran World Federation, Helsinki, July 30 – August 11 (Berlin: Lutherisches Verlagshaus, 1965), 478. In other words, there has been an (arguable) change in the conception of the law, because it no longer drives people towards a need to find a gracious God. Also, while not using the specific language, the statement of the Church of England Doctrinal Commission entitled The Mystery of Salvation: The Story of God's Gift, opens with a similar argument, one that indicates that questions of a changing idea of the law from which one is saved lies at the heart of contemporary theological reflection: “If we are to speak of salvation in a Christian sense we have also to seek more clarity about the peril in which the world is believed to stand. To know the danger is to be more than half way to understanding what is required to deal with it. If God is said to be acting towards the world in order to save it, from what is it being saved?” (London: Church House Pub., 1995), 2–3. As will be shown below, this question concerns the nature, content, form and power of the law. 45 To this particular question see Donald Alexander and Sinclair B. Ferguson, Christian Spirituality: Five Views of Sanctification (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1988). 46 Cf., Michael Bünker, Gesetz und Evangelium: eine Studie, auch im Blick auf die Entscheidungsfindung in ethischen Fragen: Ergebnis eines Studienprozesses der Gemeinschaft Evangelischer Kirchen in Europa (GEKE) (Frankfurt a. M: Lembeck, 2007) 207–208, where Bishop Bünker writes, “The fact that the theme of 'law and gospel' does not have the central significance for the Anglicans that it does for the signatory churches of the Leuenberg Agreement brings with it some uncertainty for theological dialogue. The doctrine of justification is not among the constitutive elements that the Lambeth Quadrilateral regards as indispensable for the unity of the church. In the sixteenth/seventeenth century 'law and gospel' was a theme for Anglicans with a Puritan stamp like John Goodwin, but high–church theology continued to be governed by humanism and an interest in natural theology. Even today, law and gospel is not a central theme of Anglican theology.” Whereas Bünker is certainly correct as far as the current situation goes, his further assessment that “the question of justification does not play the role in the history of the origin of the Anglican church that it was afforded in the continental Reformation,” while maybe in accord with the common perception of Anglicanism, does not necessarily communicate the depth to which the doctrine of justification was a motivating factor for both Archbishop Thomas Cranmer and the

14

The 21st Century Ecumenical Consensus on Justification

selves engaging in substantive debates concerning the role, function, nature, and content of the law and its relationship to the gospel, theologically considered. Once again, the theological and ecclesiological world has been consumed by discussions surrounding justification by faith and this corresponding distinction, the one that, by Luther’s own admission, was the key to his reformation breakthrough.47 Theologically considered, this renewed interest is no surprise, because, as 20th century Roman Catholic theologian Gerhard Söhngren observes: To consider the relationship (Verhältnis) between law and gospel is to go to the core of Christianity and enquire into its very essence (nach dem Wesen des christentums fragen). subsequent development of the Church of England. Compare Bünker’s statement to that made by Diarmiad MacCulloch in Thomas Cranmer: A Life (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1996), 617, where he writes, “Standing as he did in the developing Reformed tradition of Europe in the 1550s, Cranmer's conception of a ‘middle way’ or via media in religion was quite different from that of later Anglicanism. In the nineteenth century, when the word ‘Anglicanism’ first came into common use, John Henry Newman said of the middle way (before his departure for the Church of Rome) that ‘a number of distinct notions are included in the notion of Protestantism; and as to all these our church has taken a Via Media between it and Popery.’ Cranmer would have violently rejected such a notion . . . the middle ground which he sought was the same as Bucer's: an agreement between Wittenberg and Zürich which would provide a united vision of Christian doctrine against the counterfeit being refurbished at the Council of Trent . . . To define Cranmer as a reformed Catholic is to define all the great Continental reformers in the same way: for they too sought to build up the Catholic Church anew on the same foundations of the Bible, creeds and the great councils of the early Church.” Also, see J. Ashley Null’s Thomas Cranmer's Doctrine of Repentance: Renewing the Power to Love (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), 245, who writes of Cranmer's mature 1552 Book of Common Prayer liturgy, “Cranmer intended his Eucharistic liturgy both to inspire loving repentance in the hearts of the English and to make this new affection possible through Word and Sacrament properly presented. In the words of Dom Gregory Dix, Cranmer's 1552 Book of Common Prayer stands as 'the only effective attempt ever made to give liturgical expression to the doctrine of ‘justification by faith alone.’” [emphasis added]. 47 This was, in fact, Luther’s own reaction to this distinction, cf., LW 54:442–443 where he writes, “For a long time I went astray [in the monastery] and didn’t know what I was about. To be sure, I knew something, but I didn’t know what it was until I came to the text in Romans 1 [:17], ‘He who through faith is righteous shall live.’ That text helped me. There I saw what righteousness Paul was talking about.” Here Luther once again gives an account of his “tower experience” in a somewhat different context. “Earlier in the text I read ‘righteousness.’ I related the abstract [‘righteousness’] with the concrete [‘the righteous One’] and became sure of my cause. I learned to distinguish between the righteousness of the law and the righteousness of the gospel. I lacked nothing before this except that I made no distinction between the law and the gospel. I regarded both as the same thing and held that there was no difference between Christ and Moses except the times in which they lived and their degrees of perfection. But when I discovered the proper distinction – namely, that the law is one thing and the gospel is another – I made myself free.”

The Relationship between Justification

15

Is the religion of the gospel a religion of the law along the lines of Judaism, albeit at a higher evolution? Is the gospel law, certainly a new law, but a law nevertheless, like that articulated by Thomas Aquinas as the Lex Evangelii, “from the law of the gospel as the new law” (S.theol.1 II 106)? 48 Or is the gospel the “end of the law” (Rom. 10:4) in the sense of the evacuatio legis, the emptying of the law?49

In other words, this question concerning the relationship between law and gospel lies at the heart of all attempts to articulate the Christian faith in every generation because it concerns its very essence.50 And, for heirs of the Reformation, this question is of even more importance, because, as Gerhard Ebeling 51 observed: 48

Cf., Notger Slenczka, “Thomas von Aquin und die Synthese zwischen dem biblischen und dem griechisch–römischen Gesetzesbegriff,” ed. Okko Behrends, Der biblische Gesetzesbegriff: auf den Spuren seiner Säkularisierung (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 2006), 110, where he argues that for Thomas, “die lex nova bzw. die lex evangelica eigentlich keine externe Norm darstellt, sondern sie ist das, in Herz geschribene Gesets (I–II q 106 a 1resp), einen innere Ausrichtung auf Gott, die die Gnade des Heiligen Geistes beistellt (q 106 a 2resp.).” To this important theological relationship between the external and internal law see the section Verbum Externum below. 49 Gottlieb Söhngren, Gesetz und Evangelium – ihre analoge Einheit theologisch philosophisch staatsbürgerlich (Freiburg: K. Alber, 1957), 1. I am indebted to Gerhard Ebeling for this reference and for alerting me to the ways in which Söhngren's admission that there had been a lack of thorough treatment of the complexity and importance of the distinction between law and gospel could, argues Ebeling, “be applied mutatis mutandis also to evangelical theology,” in Ebeling, “Reflections,” 253 n.1. 50 To the question among the early church fathers, see Thomas C. Oden, The Justification Reader (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2002). 51 For a recently published dissertation on Ebeling's direct involvement with the Joint Declaration as well as a good look at his theological method with respect to ecumenical concerns, see Scott A. Celsor, Word and Faith in the Formation of Christian Existence: A Study in Gerhard Ebeling's Rejection of the Joint Declaration (Marquette E–Publication, 2011). His assessment of the strengths and weaknesses of Ebeling's contribution to ecumenical discussion and the worldwide theological discussion surrounding justification is particularly helpful, because there are too few English speaking, at least, sympathetic treatments of the complexity of his thought in this area. So Celsor, “the task of ecumenism for Ebeling is not to create church unity through doctrinal systematization and institutional organization, but to identify that which unites the various churches by becoming clear on that which really separates the churches” (62). And, “ . . . it is not enough just to understand how the word of God creates faith and the unfolding of the life of Christ in the believer. It must also proceed into an investigation into the historical nature of human existence, as an effect of the word, since the understanding of the word of God in ever– changing human situations is one of the primary features of Ebeling’s hermeneutical theology. Moreover . . . the importance of language for Ebeling suggests that language itself might play a significant role in the unfolding of the life of Christ in the believer, not to mention the other facets of human existence that it may well shape, any of which could also impact how the life of Christ is unfolded in the believer. Thus, if this study is to be complete, it must not only study Ebeling’s understanding of the doctrine of justification, it

16

The 21st Century Ecumenical Consensus on Justification

Where the concept of law is a theological category of undisputed positive significance, reflection upon it can take a back seat. It is only in the law-to-Gospel relationship that the concept of law becomes a problem or theology and the doctrine of the law therefore also acquires that total theological relevance which we have in view in our approach to the question.52

Indeed, it is because of this distinction – the fact that these two concepts are mutually interdependent by relation – that this theological determination of exactly what constitutes the law is so important.53 As will be shown, the relationship between law and gospel operates at the level of revealing soteriological and, thus, Christological commitments; consequently, when understood theologically, there can be no theology that operates without a conception of this relationship implicitly if not explicitly. Furthermore, throughout the following discussion we will do well to observe, along with Forde, that “in a good systematic theology, soteriology is more or less presupposed in everything that is said and done,”54 because what is fundamentally at stake in the discussion surrounding the relationship between law and gospel is – to borrow the nomenclature of the “New Perspective” – the question of what (if any) “plight” the human being is in to which Jesus is the “solution.”55 Thus, must also investigate his anthropology and how language itself makes possible one’s justification before God” (67). 52 Ebeling, “Reflections,” 254 [emphasis added]. 53 See LW 47:112–113 where this idea can be seen in Luther's Antinomian disputation where he writes, “Dear God, should it be unbearable that the holy church confesses itself a sinner, believes in the forgiveness of sins, and asks for remission of sin in the Lord’s Prayer? How can one know what sin is without the law and conscience? And how will we learn what Christ is, what he did for us, if we do not know what the law is that he fulfilled for us and what sin is, for which he made satisfaction? And even if we did not require the law for ourselves, or if we could tear it out of our hearts (which is impossible), we would have to preach it for Christ’s sake, as is done and as has to be done, so that we might know what he did and what he suffered for us. For who could know what and why Christ suffered for us without knowing what sin or law is?” 54 Gerhard O. Forde, “Robert Jenson's Soteriology,” in Robert W. Jenson and Colin E. Gunton, Trinity, Time, and Church: A Response to the Theology of Robert W. Jenson (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2000), 126. This statement will be confirmed, albeit indirectly, by the discussion of Pannenberg's critique see section below entitled, “Pannenberg and Eucharistic Spirtuality.” 55 Not incidentally, it was 1st century confusion over this very soteriological relationship that necessitated the “restraint in the use of σωτήρ” as an appellation for Jesus in primitive Christianity, because where there is confusion over what constitutes the law, then there is confusion over from what one is being saved. For instance, see the entry for “σωτήρ” in the Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, eds. Gerhard Kittell, Geoffrey William Bromiley, and Gerhard Friedrich (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1964), 1020–1021, which explains that, “. . . one can only say that there is a restraint in the use of σωτήρ which is to be explained by the fact that in the Jewish sphere σωτήρ could easily be linked with the expectation of a liberator from national bondage, while in the

The Relationship between Justification

17

the argument of this work follows that of the Apostle Paul in Romans 7:7 when he states, “If it had not been for the law, I would not have known sin.” This means that if the law reveals sin and, again following Paul in 1 Timothy 1:15, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners (ἁµαρτωλοὺς σῶσαι), then articulation of the law, that which reveals sin, determines soteriology, or the problem for which Jesus is the savior. In other words, stated along lines more in keeping with the focus of this work: how one conceives the distinction between law and gospel is determinative for soteriology and is then, following Forde, the presupposition of his or her systematic theology. It is to this concern, the relationship between law and gospel as understood in its theological significance to the doctrine of justification by faith, that this study is devoted, because as the doctrine of justification has been brought back into a worldwide discussion, so the question as to the relationship between law and gospel, as can be clearly seen, naturally follows. Throughout this entire exchange, the role and work(s) of the law have been routinely cited as reasons for the reappraisal of this doctrine, because it is evident that any change in the conception of the law necessitates a change not only in the understanding of justification, but in the entire concept of how humans and God are related. If, as Christoph Schwöbel argues, “the Christian understanding of Grace . . . is that which functions as the ‘diacritical principle,’ distinguishing Christianity from other religions and defining the identity of what it means to be Christian, the modification [which occurred during the Reformation] concerns the heart of Christian identity,”56 and if, as David Novak observes, the role of the law in both Judaism and Christianity is a subset of the fundamental question, namely, “What is the most correct way to be in faith with the Lord God of Israel?,”57 then these two concepts – justification by grace through faith and the role of law and gospel – are not independent questions but, rather, irreducibly related concepts. As Luther explained, “unless the Gospel is clearly distinguished from the Law, Christian doctrine can-

pagan world it suggested the idea of an earthly benefactor, especially in the figure of the emperor, hence the word might kindle hopes and ideas which the gospel could not promise to fulfill. Naturally this might also happen with σῴζω and σωτηρία, but here the total complex of statements could more easily ward off wrong ideas than in the case of the title σωτήρ. The chief title for Jesus in primitive Christianity is thus κύριος rather than σωτήρ” [emphasis added]. As will be argued, only where there is a lack of clarity about the relationship between justification by faith and the distinction between law and gospel exists will the word “savior” be misunderstood. 56 Christoph Schwöbel, “A Quest for an Adequate Theology of Grace and the Future of Lutheran Theology: A Response to Robert Jenson,” Dialog: A Journal of Theology 42, no. 1 (2003): 24. 57 David Novak, “Law and Eschatology: A Jewish–Christian Intersection,” in The Last Things: Biblical and Theological Perspectives on Eschatology, eds. Carl E. Braaten and Robert W. Jenson (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2002), 90.

18

The 21st Century Ecumenical Consensus on Justification

not be kept sound. But when this distinction is recognized, the true meaning of justification is recognized.”58 Consequently, it is the contention of this study that the discussions and the debates surrounding the doctrine of justification are, fundamentally, disagreements over the way in which the law is theologically understood. The changes and emendations over the past century to the doctrine of justification that have been so ecumenically fruitful have their root not in a new understanding of the Gospel,59 but in a new appreciation of its relationship to the law.60 Indeed, Luther himself, in his Galatians Lectures of 1535 writes: The knowledge of this topic, the distinction between the Law and the Gospel, is necessary to the highest degree; for it contains a summary of all Christian doctrine. Therefore let everyone learn diligently how to distinguish the Law from the Gospel, not only in words but in feeling and in experience; that is, let him distinguish well between these two in his heart and in his conscience. For, so far as the words are concerned, the distinction is easy. But when it comes to experience, you will find the Gospel a rare guest but the Law a constant guest in your conscience, which is habituated to the Law and the sense of sin; reason, too, supports this sense.61

For him, this distinction encapsulated the very essence of not only his dispute with the Roman church,62 but the very nature of the gospel itself. Viewed in this way, within the discipline of Systematic Theology, the distinction between law and gospel operates along the lines of a comment made by Bruce McCormack at the 2011 Kantzer lectures where he described the discipline as, “that which consists in the attempt to think across doctrines; to ask, ‘how is the decision I will have to make in this doctrine, affected by decisions I have already made in relation to other doctrines, and vice versa?”63 The following is, in this respect, an attempt to think along systematic 58

LW 26:313. To this point, see Mark Seifrid, “The Gift of Salvation: Its Failure to Address the Crux of Justification,” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 42, no.4 (December, 1999): 680. He writes, “As is well known, the gratuity of salvation has never been a matter of debate between Roman Catholics and Protestants. Both have always affirmed that salvation is a gift. The question has been how grace operates in justification.” 60 Ebeling, “Reflections,” 254, writes, “The concept of the law is a theological category of undisputed positive significance,“ writes Gerhard Ebeling. Since the Reformers distinguished the law from the gospel, “it is only in the law–to–gospel relationship that the law becomes a problem for theology and the doctrine of the law therefore also acquires that total theological relevance which we have in view in our approach to the question.” 61 LW 26:117. 62 Despite the protestations of many to the contrary, this assertion is affirmed by the former Pope, Benedict XVI (then Cardinal Ratzinger) as the source of the enduring dispute. See the section below entitled, Maledicta sit Caritas. 63 Bruce McCormack, “Lecture 1: Is the Reformation Over? Reflections on the Place of the Doctrine of God in Evangelical Theology Today,” Lecture, Kanzer Lectures Trinity Evangelical Divinity School (Deerfield, IL, September 27–October 4, 2011): 16:00-17:00. 59

Structure and Methodology

19

theological lines about how the distinction between law and gospel operates in the theology of justification by faith alone, and how rejection or acceptance of it as the primary theological hermeneutic necessarily affects subsequent determinations.

E. Structure and Methodology In her book Christian Contradictions: The Structures of Lutheran and Catholic Thought, Daphne Hampson argues that in dealing with the “paradigm shift” of Luther’s Reformation “disruption,” until it is understood that this shift necessitates an entirely new way of thinking about the Christian life, then “those who continued to belong to the previous paradigm (in this case Catholicism) have failed to appreciate what is at stake. The new system tends to be interpreted in light of the old.”64 This results in, she argues, a situation where both sides are talking past each other, because they do not appreciate the radical epistemological divide between the two divergent systems. “It is not possible,” she states, “to think that the gap between Lutheran and Catholic faith is simply a philosophical divide, however significant this may be. It consists rather in a different structuring of Christian faith.”65 With this argument, Hampson has touched on a distinction that applies not only to the relationship between Roman Catholicism and Lutheran thought, but one that goes even deeper because it revolves around competing conceptions of the very nature of human existence, conceptions that go to the heart of how one conceives the nature of theological reflection itself. It is the contention of this work that the relationship between law and gospel determines the structure of one’s theological framework; it reveals “the epistemological divide between divergent systems.” Based upon the further conviction that disagreements about justification revolve around competing conceptions of how the law is understood theologically, it is the intention of this study to clarify this divide in order to help further the dialogue by examining the arguments surrounding the role of the distinction between law and gospel with respect to the doctrine of justification by faith as they have developed in the 20th century. To do that, three theologians have been chosen as representative of those for whom the distinction is not merely one aspect of his or her theological enterprise but is, rather, a meta-hermeneutic within which all of theology is

64 Margaret Daphne Hampson, Christian Contradictions: The Structures of Lutheran and Catholic Thought (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 1. 65 Ibid., [emphasis added] 2.

20

The 21st Century Ecumenical Consensus on Justification

situated: Gerhard Ebeling66, Gerhard Forde67 and Oswald Bayer. 68 The question of whether theology is conceived of as operating in light of a unity between God and the law or as a confession of that unity by faith in the face of Anfechtung, has been decisively answered in the latter case and is the hallmark of each of their respective theological programs. It will be shown that the consistency with which they interpret life through the distinction between law and gospel allows for a clearer sense about where the conflict surrounding justification really lies. What is particularly instructive about these three for contemporary theology is that even though they all are writing at different times and within different cultures, they nevertheless illustrate how a commitment to the priority of the distinction between law and gospel can regulate theological development so as to be essentially compatible, despite the differences in time, culture, and language. What will be shown is that these three different theological systems operate sympathetically with respect to a theological understanding of the law and gospel in dialogue with contemporary arguments against said distinction. And, although there exist areas of disagreement between the three, the point of this study is to show how, despite their differences, they can easily be read together in light of their greater agreement. This is not intended to be a criti66

Although he has been widely translated into English, Ebeling as a subject has very few English monographs devoted to him, but his influence among German theologians is enormous. Helpful examinations of Ebeling in English are Mark Menacher, “Gerhard Ebeling in Retrospect,” Lutheran Quarterly 21, no. 2 (2007): 163–196; Mark Menacher, “Gerhard Ebeling's Lifelong Kirchenkampf as Theological Method,” Lutheran Quarterly 18, no. 1 (2004): 1–27; John B. Ackley, The Church of the Word: A Comparative Study of Word, Church and Office in the Thought of Karl Rahner and Gerhard Ebeling (New York: Peter Lang, 1993); Celsor, Word and Faith in the Formation of Christian Existence. 67 There are not many major works devoted to Forde, but his influence in certain parts of the American Lutheran context can be seen in the fact that the journal Lutheran Quarterly considers its “inaugural essay” that of Forde’s entitled “Radical Lutheranism: Lutheran Identity in America,” in Forde, A More Radical Gospel, 3–16. In 2009, there was a thesis written by Jack Kilcrease, entitled, “The Self-donation of God: Gerhard Forde and the Question of Atonement in the Lutheran Tradition,“((Ph.D.) – 2009, Marquette University), that rather heavily critiques Forde’s doctrine of the atonement. While Kilcrease’s critiques will not be directly addressed in this work, there is a discussion of his main point below, see p.86 n.121 below. For a more positive assessment, see By Faith Alone: Essays on Justification in Honor of Gerhard O. Forde, eds. Gerhard O. Forde, Joseph Burgess, and Marc Kolden (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2004). 68 The literature on Oswald Bayer is vast, but for our purposes the most helpful collections or books that dealt with his thought were Hans Schaeffer Createdness and Ethics: The Doctrine of Creation and Theological Ethics in the Theology of Colin E. Gunton and Oswald Bayer (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2006); Denkraum Katechismus: Festgabe für Oswald Bayer zum 70. Geburtstag, eds. Johannes von Lüpke and Edgar Thaidigsmann (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009); and Mark C. Mattes, The Role of Justification in Contemporary Theology (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2004).

Structure and Methodology

21

cal exposition of the entire theological programs of these three men; rather, it is a look at how, specifically, the distinction between law and gospel operates within their respective programs. In chapter two, entitled “The Evolution of a Rejection,” by way of setting up the subsequent chapters on the historical and theological evolution of this distinction between law and gospel in the 20th century, the theological development of Robert Jenson – a Lutheran theologian of world renown – is introduced as an ongoing heuristic device. His well-documented evolution on this very question concerning the importance of the distinction between law and gospel – having moved away from an appreciation of its central role in theology – is a living illustration of how theological thought has evolved over the past century and in particular how it has evolved with respect to his appreciation of Gerhard Ebeling. Examining how his thought has developed over the past 50 years and the relationship between these two theologians is illustrative for the entire work. Since the argument is that Ebeling’s appreciation of the distinction between law and gospel protects the significance of the doctrine of justification by faith, then Jenson’s rejection of Ebeling contains the arguments that will be under consideration throughout the book. What is particularly instructive about Jenson’s evolution is not merely its intellectual trajectory, but his argumentation, because he has rejected the distinction between law and gospel on the grounds that it has contributed to what he perceives to be an “antinomian” streak in modern Protestantism. Therefore, Jenson is introduced at the outset of this work, because he is a theologian who has publically wrestled with a development in his thought that has moved him from one who was sympathetic to Gerhard Ebeling’s appreciation for the distinction between law and gospel – and by extension, Oswald Bayer and Gerhard Forde – to one that is expressly dismissive. Furthermore, Jenson, as a Lutheran theologian, shows how it is not merely Roman Catholics who find this “dialectical” way of conceiving theology no longer tenable. Although Jenson is introduced in this chapter, his theological trajectory serves as a bookend to the “evolution,” so our final appraisal of his work can be found in chapter 4 under the heading “From Barth to Jenson.” After introducing the theological dialogue between Jenson and Ebeling, we turn to the introduction of our counter-point to Jenson and the direction of the Joint Declaration by examining the central aspects of Ebeling, Bayer, and Forde’s appreciation of the work, role, and function of the law by addressing criticisms implied by Jenson and made explicit by others, namely, that theological programs firecly beholden to the distinction between law and gospel are overly influenced by philosophical existentialism.69 This leads to a specif69 Although outside the bounds of this current study, the basis for this charge of “existentialism,” lies partly in an historical debate over the role Nominalism plays in the proper interpretation of Luther. In Graham White, Luther as nominalist: A study of the

22

The 21st Century Ecumenical Consensus on Justification

ic discussion of Ebeling’s break with his teacher, Bultmann, over the materia legis and the necessity—in theology concerned with the proper distinction of law and gospel—of the historical resurrection of Jesus. Following this discussion, and in order to clarify proper avenues of development, we return to examine the theological influence Ebeling had on Forde in order to clarify that relationship. Since the argument is that Gerhard Forde and Gerhard Ebeling can be read sympathetically, it is necessary to work through some objections to that claim and show that despite some differences, they share a fundamental appreciation for the importance of the distinction between law and gospel, theologically understood. Most importantly, the argument is that Forde apprecaites Ebeling’s emphasis on viewing the law from a functional perspective rather than as a static moral concept alone; this understanding will have profound ramifications for both Forde and Bayer’s theological systems. In chapter 3, entitled “Towards a Positive Construal,” we introduce theological concepts that are to be central in our discussion of the criticisms levied against Ebeling, Bayer, and Forde in what follows. Of paramount importance to this work is a concept here that remains a central argument, namely that the importance of the distinction between law and gospel for these theologians – following Luther – lies in the fact that it inheres within logical methods used in Martin Luther's disputations in the light of their medieval background. (Helsinki, Finland: Luther–Agricola–Society, 1984), he argues explicitly that Ebeling, in his desire to distance Luther from the Medieval scholastic tradition result in “he makes [errors] because he imposes his own philosophical background on the thought of Luther’s time” (71–72), thus “psychologizing” his interpretation of Luther’s critique of scholasticism. We will examine the charge of “existentialitsm” in detail below in the examination that follows, but as for the ongoing debate over this question, see: Mark Mattes “Luther's use of philosophy” in Lutherjahrbuch 80 (2013): 110–141, where he concludes, “The distinction between law and gospel governs Luther’s approach to philosophy. Nominalism and Realism are no longer alternatives for him because their conclusions must each be evaluated in light of the law/gospel distinction. Luther charts a new path beyond that philosophical debate. In Christ men and women are new creations, have new beings, and are not merely the set of all who claim Christ as their own but instead share in the form of Christ and so instantiate Christ himself in their service, similar to, but not the same as Realism. Even so, his overall positioning of philosophy in relation to theology has a Nominalist contour. Philosophy is limited by the fact that it knows nothing of the incarnation and is not able to accommodate its truth; nor does philosophy have a sense of God’s grace. But it does have its place when restricted to this-worldly matters. Even so, Luther values syllogistic reasoning and uses it in theology when it is accountable to theological grammar” (140) [edited in an email correspondence October 13, 2015]. Also, see Joshua Holmann’s “Our hiding place: nominalism’s undermining of the certainty given in holy baptism,” Logia 22 no. 4 (Reformation 2013): 21–24 for an examinination of how Luther’s relationship to nominalism influenced both his appreciation of the Deus absconditus as well as undergirded his evangelical appreciation of the nature of holy baptism.

Structure and Methodology

23

the very subject of theology—the subjectum theologiae— itself, namely, the distinction between the sinful human being and the justifying God. For these theologians, the proper distinction between law and gospel is none other than the proper distinction between humans and God. Having introduced the contemporary state of the question and our three theologians, chapters four and five are dedicated to examining both the development of the doctrine in the 20th century as well as criticisms against it. Throughout each chapter, there is a return to the theologies of Ebeling, Forde, and Bayer in response to each given criticism. In short, the overarching argument here is that, although the particular critics’ awareness of the problems may be accurate, they are only so to the extent that they have either misunderstood or mischaracterized a correct articulation of the distinction between law and gospel. Put differently, the problems expressed by Robert Jenson and other detractors about contemporary theology can be attributed to an abuse of the distinction between law and gospel, but that isn’t necessarily the case. As with many of the most profound theological concepts of the Christian faith, i.e., the Trinity, the Incarnation, and the Resurrection, slight alterations or a change in emphasis can prove powerfully destructive; however, that danger does not then necessitate the abandonment of these doctrines, but requires all the more caution and precision when discussing them in the hopes of avoiding the accordant errors. Chapter four’s first section, entitled “Anfechtung over Law and Gospel,” is a closer look at the objections to an emphasis on the distinction between law and gospel by addressing the common thread of discontent that runs through all of the criticisms of theology so conceived. Central to this chapter will be an emphasis on the role of Anfechtung as it relates to the distinction between law and gospel. What will be shown is that the standing objections to a prioritizing of the distinction along the lines of Ebeling, Forde, and Bayer, rely on charges that it is too dependent on philosophical existentialism and that it inexorably leads to Gnosticism and antinomianism. These are the base objections, the foundational pillars upon which all subsequent doctrinal revision stands; consequently, we will look at the development of the disagreement as it evolved over the 20th century, beginning with a critique by contemporary Lutheran theologian, David Yeago, that will clearly illuminate the areas of contention. After establishing these two contemporary criticisms, we turn back to the development of the distinction from the turn of the 20th century. Beginning with Karl Holl’s wrestling with the relationship between “wrath” and “love” amid the “Luther Renaissance,” we jump to Karl Barth’s treatment of the distinction in his seminal essay “Gospel and Law.” From here, we pick back up with Jenson, because his theological development – along with much of late 20th century theology – can be traced from his initial disagreement with Barth in his 1969 dissertation to his present treatment in his two volume Systematic Theology. Jenson, thus, serves as a living illustration of the cur-

24

The 21st Century Ecumenical Consensus on Justification

rent disillusionment and antagonism among some Lutherans concerning the central role of the distinction between law and gospel. Having explained the trajectory of the growing dissent with an emphasis on the distinction between law and gospel, we can now turn to examine the four major streams of theological thought that have developed in modern theology to fill the vacancy left by the removal of the distinction between law and gospel from its central role, and work out the ramifications of each constructive proposal in light of Ebeling, Forde, and Bayer. The first section of chapter five entitled, “The Psychology of the ‘Lutheran Paul,’” introduces the critiques of the so-called “New Perspective on Paul,” that lays the misreading of Paul at Luther’s own personal struggle with guilt and sin. In particular, the argument centers on the way in which a misunderstanding of Anfechtung in Luther’s reading of Romans 7, led Krister Stendhal and Wolfhart Pannenberg to reject the centrality of the distinction between law and gospel. This misreading rests, in part, on mischaracterization of the theology of Rudolph Bultmann with respect to faith, but also in an oversimplification of what Luther meant by the term simul iustus et peccator. Section two, entitled “the ‘German Luther(an)’ Discussion,” takes up another challenge that has been levied by both Finnish Luther scholars as well as Roman Catholics against what they argue is a particularly “German” reading of Luther that has been overly influenced by philosophical existentialism. This section includes criticisms by both Finnish Lutherans and Pope Benedict XVI, which help further clarify the radical nature of Luther’s reorientation of human existence around the distinction between law and gospel. Having so far established both the history and criticisms of theology centered on the distinction between law and gospel, we turn to a reading of Ebeling’s Luther that serves as the conceptual framework for understanding Luther in light of an appreciation of the distinction and concludes our critical section. The final chapter is a theology “along the lines of Ebeling” entitled “An Ontology of the ‘Word,’” which is a positive, systematic construction of a theological program that incorperates the aforementioned criticisms, in particular the great two which underly them all: Gnosticism and antinomianism. The first half of the chapter addresses the question of whether or not a theology grounded in the distinction between law and gospel can defend itself against taking a Gnostic turn. Beginning with a discussion of what an “ontology” shorn of classical metaphysics that nevertheless remains deeply concerned with the nature of being, it moves on to the question of the role, function, and use of the law. Following this discussion are treatments concering the relationship between creation and the gospel, and the nature and importance of the sacraments. Section F, entitled “Reading the Voice of God,” serves as a bridge between the two sections of this chapter in that, as a discussion of the nature of biblical authority in light of the distinction between law and gospel, both concerns are addressed. The final two sections leading

Structure and Methodology

25

up to the conclusion address the second enduring fear: antinomianism. In the final analysis, it is argued, this fear is not merely addressed by the distinction between law and gospel, but by its proper application, and furthermore true to life under the law, antimomianism is ultimately an impossiblity. All this is in service of the central conviction of this book, namely that when the distinction between law and gospel is rightly understood and applied, the doctrine of justification by faith alone be proclaimed as articulus stantis et cadentis ecclesiae – the article by which the church stands or falls.

Chapter 2

The Evolution of a Rejection A. Robert Jenson: A Case in Point In a 2007 paper given in Helsinki entitled “The American Luther,” Professor Christine Helmer of Northwestern University comments on the current state of German/American Luther studies: Luther was most likely not aware of America, but America has been aware of him. Whether this awareness explicitly pays its respects to the history of German Protestant theology or not, it is one that has undeniably shaped the American Luther. If Luther scholarship in America is to appropriate Luther as an important dialogue partner for today, then it must move beyond the German Luther. 1

In the American theological academy, perhaps no other theologian has contributed to this “move beyond the German Luther” more than Robert Jenson. Despite his early work and affinity for this type of Lutheranism, Robert Jenson’s career displays a growing dissatisfaction with a Protestantism – broadly understood – that has failed to articulate a united and comprehensive response to the social and philosophical, not to mention theological, pressures of postmodernity.2 One of the main problems among Lutherans, he argues, is that: Luther’s actual view of the law has in any case been much obscured by the tendency of German Luther scholars to make something like an ontological principle of his law-gospel distinction, thus establishing an unacknowledged antinomianism at the heart of their interpretations.3

1 Christine Helmer, “The American Luther,” Dialog: A Journal of Theology 47, no. 2 (2008): 114. 2 See Merold Westphal, Overcoming Onto–Theology: Toward a Postmodern Christian Faith (NewYork: Fordham Univ. Press, 2001). 3 Robert W. Jenson, “The ‘sorry’ State of Lutherans,” Dialog: A Journal of Theology 22, no. 4 (1983): 232 n.47. The full flowering of this line of thought can be seen in Joel D. Biermann’s A Case for Character: Towards a Lutheran Virtue Ethics (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2014).

Robert Jenson: A Case in Point

27

This is an assertion fundamental to his entire conception of the contemporary theological situation that has precipitated his rejection of a theological program he once supported.4 In an interview from May 2007, in response to a question about how the field of theology has changed since the mid-20th century, he replies: One great change: I went to Germany to study for the doctorate because that was still where the action was . . . Just imagine: my rigorosum – the sudden-death oral exam was conducted by Gerhard von Rad, Günther Bornkamm, Hans von Campenhausen, Peter Brunner and Edmund Schlink. Now the United States is the center.5

In the same interview, in an illuminating response to a question concerning the challenges facing American Christianity, he responds: At least theologically, there are two effective divisions between American Christians. One is between those for whom the gospel is itself the norm of all truth and the person of Christ therefore the founding metaphysical fact, and those for whom some other agenda or “theory” is the overriding norm. The other is between those who use “justification by faith” – or in the especially aggravated case of Lutherans, the “law and gospel” distinction – to fund their antinomianism, and those appalled by this. The language in which I have described the alternatives will doubtless betray on which side of each division I find myself.6

Here, Jenson has articulated what will be shown as the central objection to those for whom, as he says, “use the ‘law and gospel’ distinction, to fund their antinomianism,” because he equates an emphasis on justification by faith and the distinction between law and gospel with the perceived antinomianism of the modern church. And, lest we are unaware of who he considers to be representative of the negative direction of modern law and gospel funded “antinomianism,” he concludes this section with, “As for myself, through much of my life I tried to figure out Luther on the assumption that Luther interpretation on the lines of Gerhard Ebeling was veridical. I am glad to be delivered from that Sisyphean task.”7 For Robert Jenson, theology “along the lines of Ebeling,” is the root cause of the ills he perceives besetting the modern church, most notably that of “antinomianism.” These ills, he argues, ex4

For an example of his early writing that corroborates this point, cf. Eric Gritsch and Robert W. Jenson, Lutheranism: The Theological Movement and Its Confessional Writings (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1976). 5 Robert W. Jenson, “God's Time, Our Time – An Interview with Robert W. Jenson,” The Christian Century, 123, no. 9 (2006): 31–35. 6 Ibid. [emphasis added]. 7 Ibid. This statement will become more puzzling below as it becomes clear that Jenson shares Ebeling's insistence that the distinction between law and gospel is not a theory related to certain objects, i.e. ways of preaching, but rather a hermeneutical metatheory. It will be shown that Jenson wants to maintain the evangelical nature of Ebeling’s theology while, at the same time, removing the constitutive distinction that lies at its heart.

28

The Evolution of a Rejection

tend beyond merely the distinction between law and gospel and have caused serious damage among western churches. Regarding the current state of justification, Jenson states, “Supposed dissensus about ‘justification’ has been disastrously divisive in the West, and alleviation of the controversy has been in the center of ecumenical dialogue.”8 Aiming to expose this “supposed dissensus,” Jenson’s argument centers around two enduring questions concerning the doctrine of justification. He states, “Here the one question about ‘justification’ can arise. It was the Reformers’ distinctive and specifically reforming question: How is the church’s discourse, audible or visible, to be logically and rhetorically shaped so as not to betray its content?”9 In other words, how does one proclaim the Gospel so as to effectively communicate not only its character, but its content as well? The second question, argues Jenson, which has consumed both Catholics in the tradition of Augustine, and Protestants with their insistence on the ordo salutis, has been: “How does it work, that persons living in this context truly become righteous?” He continues: [. . . ] if, on the other hand, my own faith, virtues, or merits – that is to say, I myself in my religious and moral life – have no grip on this gift of righteousness, how is it mine? One must grant Protestantism’s typical insistence that the language of ‘justification’ in Scripture is juridical language, so that the righteousness of which is speaks is righteousness established by God’s judicial action. But Protestant doctrines of ‘forensic’ justification, by God’s decree that graciously reckons Christ’s merits to my case, seem always on the verge of making this righteousness fictional.10

For Jenson, this emphasis on forensic justification – a central tenet of theology centred on the distinction between law and gospel – lies at the heart of contemporary theological problems and is where he sees the great shift in modern theological thinking. That Jenson mentioned Gerhard Ebeling specifically in his interview concerning the errors besetting contemporary Protestantism is not incidental, because among contemporary critics of an emphasis on law and gospel, Gerhard Ebeling – with whom Jenson has extensively engaged11 – has come to 8

Jenson, Systematic Theology, Vol. 1 the Triune God (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997), 290. 9 Ibid., 291. 10 Ibid., 291–294. 11 In the same interview he writes, “When I went to Heidelberg for the doctorate, I planned to write on Bultmann. I continue to honor him and have gained much also from his followers Gerhard Ebeling and Ernst Fuchs. On the famous occasion when Martin Heidegger came out of hiding in the Black Forest to lead a day-long seminar of the theologians among his old students, Günther Bornkamm had me in tow; I listened awe– struck, if also Anglo–Saxon skeptical. I still have my mimeographed copy of Heidegger’s paper. So there is all that in me.” And, for his full, earlier treatment of Ebeling, see Jenson, “A Theological Autobiography, to Date,” Dialog: A Journal of Theology 46, no. 1 (2007):

Robert Jenson: A Case in Point

29

represent a type of theological pariah at whose feet these two particular ills have been laid.12 For Jenson and his 21st century critics, Ebeling represents the high-water mark of an individualistic, existentialized, anti-Catholic theology that “has played itself out.”13 However, as we will see, even though Jenson does not reject Ebeling’s functional view of the doctrine of justification as operating along the lines of a hermeneutical metatheory, by rejecting the distinction between law and gospel along with the assertion that justification is forensic rather than effective he has given up on a Protestantism that he once so vigorously defended. It is precisely because of his transition from advocate to critic, that his is a particularly instructive case for those interested in observing the development of the approaches to this particular doctrine that have materialized during the late 20th and early 21st centuries. His is also notable because his – despite deep disagreements at points – is a theological program with which the current work is in great sympathy on many counts. His critique of contemporary religious and secular culture is thorough and relentlessly theological,14 and his defense of the uniqueness of the Christian 46–54. Although Jenson has changed, I share his appreciation for Ebeling in this book and his critiques to this day because he recognized that, for Ebeling, the coram-relationship of being constituted by something (or someone) extrinsic to oneself is the key anthropological insight into the nature of human existence under the law. Jenson writes, “The conscience does not, I think ‘call’ at all; it is – just as Ebeling began by saying – ‘the occurrence of being called’ [my italics] . . . But the questioner is always someone other than I. The address in hearing and responding to which my identity as a human being occurs, is always the voice of someone else – in the simplest and most literal sense. We should interpret the conscience as the possibility of being spoken to, which is given with our spoken–to humanity,” (178). As we will see, the lack of appreciation that Ebeling has for the constitutive, ontologically significant nature of language will be something that Bayer, in a particular, criticizes him for; however, the general emphasis remains consistent. 12 Although many of the substantial critiques will be dealt with below, as an example of how Ebeling is used in “popular” theological discourse, take this blog post from the flagship “Evangelical Catholic” journal, First Things, where on October 7, 2010, R. R. Reno wrote in a post entitled, “The Antinomian Gospel,” in which he states, “The error . . .is characteristic of modern Protestant theology. It involves a move toward conceptual formalism. In 1950, Gerhard Ebeling wrote an influential essay about the doctrine of justification, arguing that it’s essential meaning is ‘critique.’ The doctrine of justification smashes every worldly reality upon which we might rely, forcing us to rely on God alone. End result: the historical reality of Christianity must be relativized (which ‘critique’ does) so that the ‘truth’ of Christianity can be finally realized,” First Things: A Monthly Journal of Religion and Public Life (New York: Institute on Religion and Public Life, 1990). http://www.firstthings.com/blogs/firstthoughts/2010/10/07/the–antinomian–gospel 13 Dennis D. Bielfeldt et al., The Substance of the Faith: Luther's Doctrinal Theology for Today (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2008), 7–8. To this point, the authors of the book are explicit, saying, “Our effort may be read as the endeavor to overturn this program [Ebeling’s theology] for theology in the tradition of Luther point by point.“ (4 n3). 14 See Robert W. Jenson, Systematic Theology 2, the Works of God; Essays in Theology of Culture (New York: Oxford Univ. Pr., 1999); and Carl E. Braaten and Robert W.

30

The Evolution of a Rejection

proclamation is admirable and courageous15; however, despite his immense value as a theologian, his program lacks what Gerhard Forde characterized as “something of the pathos that comes from a perception of faith’s struggle with temptation, with the wrath of God, suffering and death.”16 The lack of this pathos, however, is something that has come as a result of Jenson’s mature theological development, because his early work was based, like Ebeling’s, on an intense appreciation for the struggle – the Anfechtung – that is fundamental to a human life lived by faith under the law. In order to fully appreciate Jenson’s development, it is first necessary to understand where and how his sympathies for “theology along the lines of Ebeling” were established, because at this aforementioned point of Anfechtung, the distinction between law and gospel, or lack thereof, is most clearly seen. To that end, what follows will establish this connection with Ebeling at the point of an eschatological read on a life lived between the two ages of unbelief and faith; the description of a life lived in light of the distinction between law and gospel. This eschatological appreciation of the life of faith and unbelief, when lost by abandoning the distinction between law and gospel, results in the loss of what a life of Anfechtung looks like. From here, we will addres the concerns that move into how the distinction between law and gospel not only protects the pastoral importance of proclamation, but also is actually a constitutive part of Christian theological reflection on God. After illuminating its central role within theology, we can turn to a full discussion of the importance of the distinction between law and gospel as it operates in the theologies of Ebeling, Bayer, and Forde. By doing so, not only will the importance of this distinction to them become clear, but also the subsequent objections and criticisms dealt with in the following chapters will be better understood. This will require a sustained look at one particular objection to “theology along the lines of Ebeling,” that is, his perceived “theological existentialism,” before turning to his relationship with Forde.

B. Jenson, Ebeling, and Eschatology In the preface to The Last Things: Biblical & Theological Perspectives on Eschatology, Robert Jenson provides the following statement, “The twentieth Jenson, Either/Or: The Gospel or Neopaganism (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1995). In both of these works, in particular, Jenson is interacting directly with ethical questions that are of particular concern to western liberal democracies. 15 See Robert W. Jenson, Story and Promise; A Brief Theology of the Gospel About Jesus (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1973). 16 Gerhard O. Forde, “Robert Jenson's Soteriology,” in Trinity, Time, and Church: A Response to the Theology of Robert W. Jenson, eds. Robert W. Jenson and Colin E. Gunton (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2000), 137.

Jenson, Ebeling, and Eschatology

31

century will be remembered in the history of theology for its rediscovery of the centrality of eschatology in the message of Jesus and early Christianity.”17 Indeed, he writes in his response to George Hunsinger’s extremely critical review of his Systematic Theology,18 “It is true that one – and only one – of my revisionary concerns is the attempt to take the eschatological character of scripture’s witness to God with unwonted systematic seriousness.”19 With this statement, Jenson is unflinching in his continued commitment to a theological program centered on eschatology that has been a hallmark of his work from his dissertation on Barth to his present work. However, his appreciation for the way in which this eschatological emphasis operates within his theological program has changed dramatically on account of his developed rejection of the centrality of the distinction between law and gospel. As we will see, given the importance of eschatology for Jenson’s theological program it is instructive to see how its rediscovery operates with respect to the distinction between law and gospel, particularly because it is also so central to the thought and work of Gerhard Ebeling, the one from whose theology Jenson is happy to have been delivered. Eschatology, like all other Christian doctrines, is fundamentally affected by one’s appreciation of the theological role of the law. Robert Jenson’s early appreciation for this dialectic can be seen in his 1967 book, The Knowledge of Things Hoped For. In this book, having traced an outline of Bultmann’s theology, first quoting Bultmann, “In that we ask a text about God we do somehow understand ‘God,’” he continues: I wish here to state my general agreement with this development so far. But there is a conclusion that seems inevitable but that Bultmann never draws – for reasons that will appear later. The prior understanding behind, and the question put by, theological interoperation of a text is, we see, the same as that of existential interpretation in general. Must it not follow that all existential – that is, truly historical – use of history is, if pursued to the end, questioning about God? If only as a deepening of the God-question?. . . To question a text theologically is to question it about my final future, about what is to come of my life. And this is also the question about myself, about that final decision in which I am myself – for there must be a conclusion to my story if the occurrences of my life are to be a story at all, are to cohere as a life. Therefore the question about God is the presupposition of all historical questioning; and all historical questioning is implicitly the God-question.20

17 Carl E. Braaten and Robert W. Jenson, The Last Things: Biblical and Theological Perspectives on Eschatology (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2002), vii. 18 George Hunsinger, “Robert Jenson's Systematic Theology: A Review Essay,” Scottish Journal of Theology 55, no. 2 (2002): 161–200. 19 Robert W. Jenson, “Response to Watson and Hunsinger,” Scottish Journal of Theology 55, no. 02 (2002): 232. 20 Robert W. Jenson, The Knowledge of Things Hoped For; The Sense of Theological Discourse (New York: Oxford University Press, 1969), 165. That this has been

32

The Evolution of a Rejection

In other words, Jenson affirms the fundamental point of Bultmann’s existential hermeneutic in the sense that the historicity of a human being, the “Geworfenheit” to borrow from Heidegger,21 infuses all subsequent rumination over the meaning of life with an implicit or explicit question of God.22 This theological construal, resting as it does on a distinction between faith and unbelief as the determining factor of human existence, is a central component of the theology of Ebeling, Bayer, and Forde because it appreciates that the law operates by calling forth the question of human existence in light of mortality and finitude. We will return to a fuller discussion of the way this operates in the theology of Ebeling below. Although this study is not primarily a defense of Ebeling, and while broadly sympathetic to many aspects of Jenson’s theological program, it will be argued that Jenson’s mature objections to “theology along the lines of Ebeling” fail to appreciate the importance of the distinction between law and gospel as something that cannot be relinquished even in the face of misinterpretation or abuse23 at precisely the point at which his initial appreciation of corroborated by psychoanalytic theory, cf., Ernst Becker, The Denial of Death (New York: Free Press, 1973). 21 Martin Heidegger, Sein und Zeit (Tübingen: M. Niemeyer, 1967), 35–38. 22 Not incidentally, this type of rationale mirrors that of Werner Elert in his chapter three of Die Lehre des Luthertums im Abriss (München: Beck, 1924), entitled “Spannung und Kampf zwischen Gott und der Seele,” 9–11. Insofar as this is an accurate phenomenological diagnosis of human existence, Jenson is in agreement; however, he levies an objection to Bultmann that would be echoed by both Ebeling and many who followed, namely, by asking “how the eschatological proclamation can be understood, if it is supposed to be talk about history which, however, narrates no history“ – Jenson, The Knowledge,175. Here, as well as in his Systematic Theology 30 years later, he remarks that “This is the point of controversy in the long settling of accounts by Ebeling with Bultmann,“168n25. This settling, he argues, is the content of Ebeling’s Theologie und Verkündigung (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1963). 23 See LW 26:305–306, where in Luther's commentary on Galatians 3:19 he argues that despite all of the ways in which people were abusing the proclamation of a law–free gospel, he had to continue because the pastoral implications of allowing those troubled consciences who needed to hear the comforting words was worth the abuse. “What, then, are we to do? This evil troubles us severely, but we cannot stop it. When Christ preached, He had to hear that He was a blasphemer and a rebel; that is, that His teaching was seducing men and making them seditious against Caesar. The same thing happened to Paul and to all the apostles. No wonder the world accuses us in a similar way today. All right, let it slander and persecute us! Still we must not keep silence on account of their troubled consciences; but we must speak right out, in order to rescue them from the snares of the devil. Nor should we pay attention to how our doctrine is abused by the vicious and wicked rabble, who cannot be cured whether they have the law or not. On the contrary, we should pay attention to how suffering consciences are to be counseled, lest they perish with the wicked rabble. If we were to keep silent, the consciences that are so inextricably captured and ensnared in laws and human traditions would have no comfort at all.”

Jenson, Ebeling, and Eschatology

33

Ebeling lies: his eschatological appreciation for life lived between the two ages of belief and unbelief. This loss has necessary pastoral ramifications, because the distinction between law and gospel exposes the tragic nature of human life lived “entangled in the battle between the one Lord and the many lords;”24 therefore, it relentlessly pushes theology towards proclamation. We will return to Jenson’s mature theological development in the chapter on Karl Barth. This chapter will provide the general areas of disagreement and illuminate some of the seminal discussions that have taken place over the past century that have contributed to the current negative judgment on theology built upon the distinction between law and gospel. In what follows, we will continue to observe how and why theological conceptions of the law have such profound ramifications for entire theological systems, because a change in the understanding of the law necessitates a change in the gospel, which, in turn, affects how one appreciates the entire nature of theology itself. To speak of God “along the lines of Ebeling” is necessarily to bring up the distinction between law and gospel, because it is only by this relationship that we can understand both the tragedy of the human condition and the actual good news inherent to Christian proclamation. We will return to these arguments below; however, it is necessary first to address the criticisms that arise when theology is so conceived by Bayer, Forde and Ebeling – namely, that the existence of the homo peccator and the self-awareness of the sinner as such is constitutive of its very nature – that one has been overly influenced by philosophical existentialism. It will be shown that when the distinction between law and gospel is so conceived, then Jenson’s aforementioned complaint that this distinction is responsible for “funding antinomianism” is an error. Furthermore, in the conclusion to this work, it will be shown that on account of the theocentric emphasis inherent in a theology centered on the homo peccator et deus iustificans, “antinomianism” will be shown to be, ultimately, impossible; it is what Forde calls a “fake theology.” In fact, as will be shown, the modern correctives that reject the distinction between law and gospel, ironically, according to Forde, “produce what can be called a disguised antinomianism – an antinomianism carried out under the disguise of redefining the law so as to make it virtually synonymous with gospel.”25 In addition, it will be shown that the epithet “existentialism” that has been used to dismiss Ebeling, Bayer and Forde’s readings, while certainly apropos at points, does not sufficiently appreciate the attempt by these theologians to deal with the fact that Luther’s theology – not to mention the Apostle Paul’s – is not existential in the modern philo-

24

Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology, 36; also, Oswald Bayer, Theologie (Gütersloh: Gütersloher, 1994), 96–105. 25 Gerhard O. Forde, The Law-Gospel Debate (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1969), 228.

34

The Evolution of a Rejection

sophical sense, but does in fact remain highly experiential even so.26 Nevertheless, the criticism remains, that this is a too “existentialized” conception of faith. It is to that criticism that we now turn.

C. The Materia Legis In Dennis Bielfeldt’s review of Bayer’s Martin Luther’s Theology: A Contemporary Introduction, he gives the prevailing (among some) criticism that: Bayer’s very adept treatment of Luther presupposes a nexus of ideas we might associate with the so-called ‘existential Luther.’ Such a reading of Luther thematizes the situation of the believer confronted both by Law and Gospel, the believer justified by faith and living the freedom of the promissio. From this center it moves outward to interpret the other theological loci.27

For Bielfeldt, this approach to theology does not hold, and Gerhard Ebeling is one at whose feet he lays a considerable amount of blame for this “existentialized” Luther. In his chapter in The Substance of the Faith: Luther’s Doctrinal Theology for Today, he argues that although Ebeling’s – and by association, Bayer and Forde’s – construction can be phenomenologically accurate as far as a description of “theological language for the believer,” but, “it fails to take seriously the salvific relevance of the propositional understanding of such language within the believers’ structure of significances constituting her world.”28 For Bielfeldt, Ebeling is attempting to create a theology of language that “fails to deal with the truth conditions necessary for empowerment, that is, that Christ really did die for human sins so that all who believe might live with God eternally.”29 Is this critique valid? Do these theologians, and

26

See Martin Luther’s Table Talk, where he writes, “A doctor of the Scriptures ought to have a good knowledge of the Scriptures and ought to have grasped how the prophets run into one another. It isn’t enough to know only one part – as a man might know Isaiah, for example – or to know only one topic of the law or of the gospel. Now, however, doctors are springing up who scarcely have a right comprehension of one topic. Teachers of law can humble their students when the students try to put on airs about their learning, because they have a court and get practical experience. On the other hand, we can’t humble our students because we have no practical exercises. Yet experience alone makes the theologian” [emphasis added]. LW 54:7. 27 Dennis Bielfeldt, “Martin Luther’s Theology: A Contemporary Interpretation, a Review,” Journal of Lutheran Ethics 11, no. 7 (2011). http://www.elca.org/What–We– Believe/Social–Issues/Journal–of–Lutheran–Ethics/Issues/November–2011/Bielfeldt–on– Bayer.aspx (accessed May 22, 2012). 28 Bielfeldt, The Substance of the Faith, 91. 29 Ibid., 92.

The Materia Legis

35

Ebeling in particular, occupy a Heidegerrian “house of being”30 that exists only in the mind of the hearer, or is there a truth condition as his foundation? In order to address this critique, we need to examine Ebeling’s statements on the issue, particularly as they relate to his mentor and teacher, Ruldolph Bultmann. As will be shown, it is in Ebeling’s theological wrestling with the concept of the law that leads him towards an appreciation for the “truth conditions” of the faith, most notably on the question of the relationship between the “Jesus of History” and the “Christ of Faith.” Here we have come to a central component of Ebeling’s theological program, which has caused much misunderstanding. For Ebeling, the law is not primarily a legal codex, a set of rules or even a general moral force; rather, for him, the law is anything that reveals to the human the fundamental relation that lies at the foundation of reality, namely, that he or she is a sinner in the hands of a justifying God. Here he is following Luther, who argues that the law must be reinterpreted anew, indeed, that we should “write new decalogues” for the times.31 In this same way, the content of the law – the materia legis – is not inconsequential for Ebeling; rather, it cannot be assumed as static, but must be constantly adapting to that which is, i.e., the homo peccator. For example, at the end of his essay “Reflections on the Doctrine of the Law” Ebeling writes: For the sake of the Gospel the law must come to expression, if the Gospel itself is not to be misunderstood as law. The Gospel would lose its meaning if it did not have any eye to the law. For the sake of the intelligibility of the preaching of the Gospel, and that means at the same time, for the sake of the concreteness of the Gospel – the law belongs in the preaching of the Gospel. For the homo peccator belongs in the preaching of the Gospel. The peccator, however, according to Luther is the materia legis. Hence, it can be stated as a valid basic rule for our subject: Si vis disputare de lege, materiam legis accipe, que est peccator. [If you wish to dispute about the law, then you must take up the matter of the law, which is the sinner] The question as to what this is today in concrete terms, and thus as to how the law really affects contemporary man, would now be the most burning question of the theological doctrine of the law [emphasis added].32

In other words, for Ebeling, the materia legis is not limited to the Mosaic Law, but is every word that leads human beings to self-awareness as sinners, as the claim of God on those who are not God. For Ebeling, it is not the lex aeterna that is the “truth condition” from which the law derives its power, but 30 Martin Heidegger, Pathmarks, trans. William McNeill (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), 254. 31 See LW 34:112–113 where in The Theses for the Doctoral Examination of Hieronymus Weller and Nikolaus Medler September 11, 1535, he writes, “#53. Indeed, we would make new decalogues, as Paul does in all the epistles, and Peter, but above all Christ in the gospel. #54. And these decalogues are clearer than the decalogue of Moses, just as the countenance of Christ is brighter than the countenance of Moses [II Cor. 3:7–11].” 32 Ebeling, “Faith and Unbelief in Conflict about Reality,” in Word and Faith, 382.

36

The Evolution of a Rejection

the homo peccator. This means that far from being secondary, the very task of theological reflection is to enquire into what exactly is the content of the law by which humans are currently being accused. Here we can see how Bielfeldt’s aforementioned critique, that Ebeling’s construal “fails to take seriously the salvific relevance of the propositional understanding of such language within the believers’ structure of significances constituting her world,” suffers from a lack of appreciation for how language functions with respect to the gospel in Ebeling’s thought, because rather than saying that language creates a world devoid of external referent, it is more appropriate to say that language destroys the fantasy world necessarily created by sinful humans in an attempt to alleviate the demands of the law. We will examine this relationship below in the final chapter; however, it is sufficient to say at this point that Ebeling was not unaware of the dangers in disconnecting the materia legis from what Bielfeldt terms the “structure of significances constituting her world;” quite the contrary. For Ebeling, these very structures can be at any time ways through which God works law and gospel on the hearer by either faith or unbelief. In short, the law is anything that reveals the true relationship between God and humanity, i.e., deus iustificans et homo peccator. To that end, because the materia legis does not concern timeless, eternal truths but, rather is each and every point where the conflict between unbelieving humans and the claims of God are manifest. In this respect, the historicity of the resurrection of Jesus becomes a primary locus for both law and gospel, because it is at one and the same time a point of confession or rejection, of belief or unbelief, of gospel or law. As outlined in his Theologie und Verkündigung, this is a crucial component to Ebeling’s wrestling with and ultimate correction of his teacher, Bultmann. For Ebeling, as important and necessary as the emphasis on the present tense act of proclamation is, it cannot rest predominately on the present acceptance of the power of the gospel preached – the kerygma – to evoke faith but, rather, must have a material connection to the actual historical events themselves. Because the experience of the law is necessarily historically situated within the lives of mortal humans, the witness of Jesus’s fulfilment of the law as having lived the life of unfailing faith in God up to the point of death, “even death on a cross,”33 statements about what he has done and what has become of him, precisely because they speak of his human life, are intrinsically connected to any proclamation of him. In other words, with respect to

33

See Philippians 3. Additionally, for an extended treatment of the concept of kenosis as taken from this section of Philippians, see Matthew L. Becker, The Self–giving God and Salvation History: The Trinitarian Theology of Johannes Von Hofmann (New York: T & T Clark International, 2004).

The Materia Legis

37

the question of the distinction between the (so-called) “Jesus of History and Christ of Faith,”34 Ebeling writes: The [kerygmatic] Statement such as ‘Jesus is Christ’ or ‘Jesus is risen’ cannot be fully interpreted merely by examining their predicates. Even if one interprets all that is predicated of Jesus with reference to the eschatological event as the lowest common denominator it still remains unclear what this means, if we leave out of account the fact that they are intended as statements about Jesus. Only by reference to him can the meaning of the predicates themselves become clear.35

If there is to be any lasting truth to the enduring claim of the law, theologically understood, as that which exposes sinful humans as such, then there must be a historical referent in Jesus himself as the one “born of a woman, born under law.”36 This incarnate “Jesus of History,” precisely as the one-and-thesame “Christ of Faith,” has fulfilled this law, not in some abstract moral sense, but in that by his own historical death under the law and the reality of his resurrection, he has revealed the relationship between sin, the law and faith. And it is this very relationship between sin, death and faith that is so crucial for Ebeling’s theological program. For Ebeling, the enduring and historically conditioned reality of the existence of the law is marked by deep uncertainty in the inner being of every human because they are, unavoidably, marked for death. “It is the one future event about which there is no doubt,” he writes, “but which can nevertheless in no way be said to make a man certain about the future.”37 Here is the double bind of sin: the human being is inexorably consigned to a fate about which he or she is wholly insecure. This double bind is intrinsic to “the very nature of sin, which is, in Paul’s’ words, the sting of death.”38 Accordingly, this deep insecurity and uncertainty is constitutive of the aforementioned subjectum theologiae, because just as it is intrinsic to the power of the law, which brings death, also to bring uncertainty, so it is to the power of the Gospel to bring certainty. He explains: Certainty (Gewißheit) confronts a man, when that which concerns him ultimately becomes that which he willingly affirms; it confronts him when his predicament becomes full of promise, when his inability to control his own destiny becomes the gift of his freedom, when his death becomes the arrival of life, his time the place of eternity. An integral part of the event, of such certainty is the conjunction of compulsion and freedom, law and grace. Now of course human life is continually full to the brim with both. As such, any time is an occasion for certainty, and any uncertainty is sin. Yet one comes to know certainty only as 34 Cf., Paul F.M. Zahl, The First Christian: Universal Truth in the Teachings of Jesus (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2003). 35 Ebeling, Theology and Proclamation: Dialogue with Bultmann, trans. John Riches (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1966), 51–52. 36 Galatians 4:4. 37 Ebeling, Theology and Proclamation, 86. 38 Ibid., 87.

38

The Evolution of a Rejection

one comes to know the distinction which man in his uncertainty cannot make: namely between tempus legis and tempus gratiae, between homo peccator and deus iustificans.39

In other words, for Ebeling, it is not that the historical reality of Jesus’ death and resurrection is unimportant, but that it is important because of its enduring, universal, timelessness as that judgment and vindication of God that brings into question any attempt of human beings to stand before God as anything but sinners. The history of God’s intervention in the world on the Cross is that definitive event that silences the insecurity that hangs over the questions brought on by death. The silencing of this insecurity, this certainty, as we will see, is a synonym for faith. By being yoked with the question of death, the law takes on a functional role that transcends mere codification of rules and becomes a tool by which the confession of Faith – the confession of the God who justifies – is elicited. Ebeling’s appreciation of this role of the relationship between uncertainty and faith has implications and ramifications for his appreciation of the law, understood theologically, because the dynamic is similar. Jesus is important as an historical figure because of what he did, not simply that he was; correspondingly, the law is an enduring obstacle to human beings because of what it does, i.e., reveals what is lacking by bringing the “knowledge of sin” (διὰ γὰρ νόµου ἐπίγνωσις ἁµαρτίας Rm.3:20). Therefore, the historical person and work of Jesus is as important as the historic realities of the materia legis insofar as reality, as such, is predicated upon either both of them being “myths” or not. He explains: If we did not encounter in Jesus both the law and the Gospel alongside each other, if we did not encounter him as the Word which brings a double certainty, then as best we could see the Christological kerygma as a mythological description of a gift which leads us into the realms of fantasy; we could scarcely see it as a hymn of faith to the God who seeks us out in this our reality, who lets himself be found in this reality, and who thus offers us his salvation from the cross in the world of life in repentance.40

In other words, if the uncertainty that confronts every human is brought about by the acute realization of his or her own finitude, then appeals to the gospel as bringing certainty to that question without reference to its actual, historical character fail to address the question on its own terms. A mythological Christ of Faith cannot save an all-too-real, historically situated, human on the way to death. This is why, for Ebeling contra Bultmann, the double bind of sin and death must be (and has been!) concretely addressed by the gospel. While Ebeling’s theology certainly shares many points of contact with Bultmann, his commitment to the unity of the historic witness alongside the present day dogmatic proclamation should allow him a more favorable read than many of his critics, as we shall see, give. Notwithstanding his express 39 40

Ibid., 93. Ibid., 80.

The Influence of Ebeling on Forde

39

writings to the contrary, the aspersions on Ebeling’s theology – that his is simply a baptized existentialism – among contemporary writers proceeds unabated, and those associated with him meet a similar fate, as can be shown with the example of Gerald Forde.

D. The Influence of Ebeling on Forde As for Forde, because he is often dismissed in a way similar to that of Ebeling,41 his friend and colleague Jim Nestingen addresses the issue directly in an essay entitled “Examining Sources: Influences on Gerhard Forde’s Theology.” Under the heading “Ebeling and Forde?” he writes: The attempt to identify Forde with Ebeling is a good example of what unfortunately appears to be the most common use of the argument for influence in the academic community. Ebeling is lumped with Bultmann’s existential interpretation, which is criticized for its ahistorical individualism, and Forde is then attached to Ebeling as a reflexive link in the chain. Such associations are the academic worlds’ equivalent of village gossip, and the pretentiousness with which they are passed along only makes them the more vicious.42

Despite Nestingen’s protestations, it is part of the contention of this work that the real tragedy here is the total and uncritical linking of Ebeling with Bultmann without taking into account the former’s significant emendations of the latter while ignoring the associations he has with either Forde or Bayer.43 What Forde learned, or at least in some part developed by interaction with Ebeling, by his own admission, is an aspect of his theological program that is 41

Cf., R. Scott Murray, Law, Life, and the Living God: The Third Use of Law in Modern American Lutheranism (St. Louis: Concordia Pub. House, 2002), 128–130; cf., also Kurt E. Marquart, “Luther and Theosis,” Concordia Theological Quarterly 64:3 (2000) 101n36. His comments typify the tenor of the objections to “Luther along the lines of Ebeling,” in that he finds Forde’s appreciation of Ebeling’s idea of faith as trust in God’s eschatological Word of Promise, “too bare.” “Faith is ‘relational,’” he concedes, “but without express reference to God's concrete, historical act of righteousness in the cross and resurrection of His Son, the language is open to Barthian or Bultmannian interpretations.” For more criticisms of Forde along these lines, cf., Robert Baker's “Natural Law, Human Sexuality, and Forde’s ‘Acid Test,’” in Natural Law: A Lutheran Reappraisal, eds. Robert C. Baker and Roland Cap Ehlke (St. Louis: Concordia Pub. House, 2011), 135–156. 42 James A. Nestingen, “Examining Sources: Influences on Gerhard Forde’s Theology,” in By Faith Alone: Essays on Justification in Honor of Gerhard O. Forde Forde, eds. Gerhard O. Forde et al. (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2004), 20–21. 43 This is not to say that there are no helpful associations that they share with Bultmann. To this entire question, see Tim Labron, Bultmann Unlocked (London: T. & T. Clark, 2011). Also, see section 5.2.3 below on Bultmann for a sympathetic – yet ultimately critical – treatment of his reading of Romans 7.

40

The Evolution of a Rejection

not ancillary but, rather, an essential part of the central emphasis of his theological appreciation of the role of law and gospel, namely, its eschatological function. His entire judgment on the way the distinction between law and gospel has been understood from the time of the reformation echoes an appreciation of Ebeling’s eschatological interpretation. In “Absolution: Systematic Considerations” he writes: All the problems with and fears about unconditional absolution are rooted in the fact that after the Reformation the prevalent tendency was to work with the wrong anthropological paradigm . . . The problem was and still is that we work with the wrong paradigm, the wrong theological anthropology. The sinner is not changed. Rather, the sinner must die to be made new. The paradigm is death and resurrection, not just changing the qualities of a continuously existing subject.44

Whatever else one may say about the theology of Gerhard Ebeling, it is clear that Gerhard Forde developed, in part, his own appreciation of the eschatological function of the law and gospel with respect to preaching from engagement with Ebeling’s work. This is an appreciation that began early in Forde’s career, as two examples (among many) from The Law Gospel Debate will illustrate. Once at the end of his chapter “The Reply to Barth” and, again, at the beginning of the chapter entitled “Eschatology and Law,” Forde cites Ebeling approvingly as identifying the central issue with respect to properly understanding the relationship between law and gospel. Given the significance of the concept of “death and life” combined with the active working of the law in Forde’s later works – too numerous to mention here, but cf. Forde, The Preached God: Proclamation in Word and Sacrament – this reference to Ebeling seems to be selfevidently formative for his future work. So Forde writes: The relation of Luther research to the systematic debate, however, means that this research can best be understood in terms of its contribution to the solution of the problem of law and the act character of revelation. Quite clearly, affirming the eschatological character of the relationship between law and gospel is an attempt to deal with this problem. This is especially evident in the work of a man like Gerhard Ebeling. The act character of revelation is maintained through the idea that the gospel is the eschatological event which brings men freedom from the law in the present. Law is a general term which describes man’s bondage in the old age and which lead to “death.” Gospel is the eschatological event of freedom and life.45

44 Gerhard O. Forde, “Absolution: Systematic Considerations,” in The Preached God: Proclamation in Word and Sacrament, eds. Mark C. Mattes, and Steven D. Paulson (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2007), 161. 45 Gerhard O. Forde, Justification by Faith: A Matter of Death and Life, (St. Louis: Fortress Press, 1982), 199. Cf. Ebeling, “Reflections,” 278–280.

The Influence of Ebeling on Forde

41

That Forde would augment his theology with a robust appreciation of the sacraments and creation will be shown;46 however, none of these go against this fundamental eschatological orientation of law and gospel that he evidently learned, in part, from Ebeling. For our purposes, it is the way he appreciates the relationship between what he calls the apocalyptic and eschatological along law and gospel lines, respectively, that highlights the similarities with Ebeling’s theological project. In his essay “The Apocalyptic ‘No’ and the Eschatological ‘Yes’,” he writes: To get to the root of our problems with apocalyptic and eschatology, we have to go back almost to the beginning. To clarify matters, we need to make a distinction between apocalyptic and eschatology. Apocalyptic . . . for our purposes here, is the story of the beginning, the catastrophic misadventure, and coming cataclysmic end of this present age . . . Eschatology, on the other hand, is more the story not so much of how we shall fare in the future cataclysmic end, but how the future will come to us in Jesus.47

For Forde, following Ebeling, the law and gospel operate along eschatological lines by understanding the eschatological event as the present, historically conditioned redemption of the individual from law by the gospel, the message of pardon having been secured by Jesus for the sinner, whereas the apocalyptic is the great cosmic catastrophe promised by the very existence of a God who will come “to judge the living and the dead.” In his critique of “existential” interpretations of the law and gospel, Nestingen iterates a common theme, namely that the content of the law becomes detached from its function; thus, he writes: The Law is no longer a divine requirement but a category of existential analysis. Likewise, faith is detached from Christ and becomes a form of authentic existence. This difficulty is also evident in current preaching. Christ gets treated as a concept, grace as a disposition or policy, and the Gospel as idea. The extra nos is lost, the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth, born of the Virgin Mary, being rendered theoretical.48

While this is a concern that both Forde and Bayer address in their work, as we have seen, with respect to Ebeling’s appreciation of the materia legis, it is not necessarily the case that his theology leads to these errors. What’s more, the argument that this “existentialism” is conflated with a subjective experience of “grace” is similarly confusing, because Ebeling’s law-gospel program was decidedly theocentric even as it was an attempt to map out the phenomenology of the theological anthropology of the homo peccator. As Forde notes, Ebeling is the one who posed the question regard46

See Forde, “The Normative Character of Scripture for Matters of Faith and Life: Human Sexuality in Light of Romans 1:16–32,” Word & World 14, no. 3 (1994): 305–314; and, “Preaching the Sacraments,” in The Preached God, 89–115. 47 Forde, “A More Radical Gospel,” 21. 48 James A. Nestingen, “Distinguishing Law and Gospel: A Functional View,” Concordia Journal 22 (January, 1996): 32.

42

The Evolution of a Rejection

ing the usus legis – the “uses of the law” – asking, “For what does usus legis really mean? Who is the subject of this uti?” and answering that “[it] usus cannot be man.”49 We will see below how this relates to his disagreement with Barth, but for now, he continues with a discussion concerning the way in which the “preacher becomes the subject of the uti lege in recte secare verbum dei [properly distinguishing the Word of God] – not, however, in the matter of different usus legis, but in the concrete distinction and interrelation of law and gospel.”50 In this respect, Nestingen and Ebeling can be read sympathetically in their shared emphasis that a functional view of the law and gospel is essential to its proper handling as well as the importance of understanding this function eschatologically. For instance, compare this statement by Nestingen, “The description of what Law and Gospel are is not considered complete until they have also been defined in terms of what they do,”51 with Ebeling’s, “The question primarily appropriate to the law is the question of what it can do. Luther went so far as even to define the law on that basis.”52 Taken together, they both indicate a strong desire to go beyond a standardized system of determining what is and is not “law” based upon some prior theological determination and, rather, rest on the conviction that, as Nestingen writes, “it is the Spirit who wields Law and Gospel in the hearts of our hearers.”53 This trinitarian, theocentric emphasis on the functional role of law and gospel, the idea that the homo peccator is the object upon which the deus iustificans is at work through preaching, allows for a very sympathetic reading of these theologians together, irrespective of wherever else their theological programs may diverge.54 For these three, the law is defined as that which brings people to a confession of sinfulness before God. And this confession, when understood in light of the concrete, historical reality of death, forces any appreciation of the gospel – by contrast – towards a more intense valuation of the historical, contingent realities of everyday human life.

49

Ebeling, “Signifigance,” Word and Faith, 75. Ibid., 78. 51 Nestingen, “Distinguishing”, 31. 52 Ebeling, “Reflections,“279. 53 Nestingen, “Distinguishing,” 34. 54 This is not to argue, however, that Nestingen does not have significant disagreements with Ebeling. For instance, Ebeling prioritizes the functional over the material content of the law in a way that Nestingen does not seem to do. Cf. Nestingen, “Distinguishing,” 276–280, with Ebeling, “Reflections,” 278–280; however, given the relative scarcity of people arguing from their shared viewpoint that the law is defined by function, these differences can be reconciled. 50

Conclusion

43

E. Conclusion This type of theology, one that takes seriously this tragic condition – the actual situation of the human being under the law coram Deo – inevitably invites criticisms of being overly subjective and prone to abstraction,55 because there is a necessary recognition of a sort of anthropological subjectivity surrounding the nature of faith itself. This is not, however, to be construed to mean that it emanates from within the hearer as a sort of quality, and although some have constructed Luther’s insistence on faith as an emanation from within the subject, that is in direct contrast to his intended purpose. “Luther goes on the attack against those who ‘dream that [Christian] faith is a quality that is latent in the soul,’” writes Oswald Bayer. “To seek to verify [the truth of the Gospel] on one’s own would be atheism.”56 In contrast, Christian faith, i.e., trust in the Gospel, is established by its ability to withstand Anfechtung in the face of trial precisely on account of its being extrinsic to the believer. And this Anfechtung is constitutive of the Christian life as the conflict between faith and unbelief; into this conflict, the gospel must be proclaimed and distinguished from the law if the confidence in the gospel extra nos is to be established in the midst of the ambiguities and uncertainties of life. In what follows, we will first look at how law and gospel constitute the very subject matter of theology for our three theologians, a consideration that is so important to the three of them that it can be understood as the “ground and limit of theology.” This discussion will lead to a description of just why this is such a pressing and all-consuming issue in the theology of Ebeling, Bayer, and Forde, because, it will be shown, they consider all of reality to be encapsulated in the interplay between law and gospel before God. This conviction leads to their emphasis on preaching and proclamation.

55 See Gerhard O. Forde, “Karl Barth on the Consequences of Lutheran Christology,” in The Preached God, 77, where he rhetorically asks how dogmatic Christianity can protect itself from these errors, he answers, “It cannot – at least not in and of itself. Because dogmatics is abstraction and abstraction is always the subject's activity – or even its way of salvation if one is not careful! My thesis is that only proclamation, the actual doing of the divine deed in the living present through preaching and the sacraments, can do that. What theology has to do is to recognize the dogmatic significance of the move to proclamation and to foster it. It must recognize that the concrete deed of proclamation is itself the solution to it problems.” 56 Bayer, Martin Luther's Theology, 55.

Chapter 3

Towards a Positive Construal A. Law and Gospel and the subjectum theologiae At the heart of theological reflection lies what Oswald Bayer calls Luther’s “intolerably narrow” definition of the very subjectum theologiae (subject of theology): homo peccator et deus iustificans – the sinner and the God who justifies that sinner. In these verbal adjectives – sinful and justifying – we find the distinction between law and gospel woven into the very fabric of theological reflection on the nature of reality. As will be shown below, the placement of these two words is not accidental because, for Luther, the heart of theological reflection concerns the right confession of relation between human beings and God. Without the proper distinction between the law and the gospel, there is no clear way of differentiating the work of God – the opus Dei – and the work of humanity – the opus hominum – 1 and, therefore, we lose the heart of the gospel message pro nobis – for us.2 In other words, it actually protects our speech from confusing the two words from God. As Paul Althaus rightly explains, for Luther, “Theology is concerned with the knowledge of God and of man. It is therefore both theology in the narrower sense – the doctrine of God – and anthropology. These two are inseparably joined together.”3 The distinction between law and gospel insures that when we speak about the subject of theology, we are speaking properly about God and humans. Consequently, when so conceived, theology has as much to say about what it means to be human as it does about reflection on the nature of God.4 Therefore, these adjectives are not, argues Bayer, “accidental and 1

To this point see Bayer, ibid., 26, who writes, “Luther's general criticism of the medieval doctrines of grace and of the way in which the question of grace is dealt with in the practice of the church is that the distinction between God's work and human work has become blurred and that therefore their relationship cannot be adequately perceived.” 2 This emphasis on the “for us” – the pro nobis – is an aspect of an interpretation of Luther's theology, in particular, that is being called a “theological novelty” by detractors. Cf., Christine Helmer, The Trinity and Martin Luther: A Study on the Relationship Between Genre, Language and the Trinity in Luther's Works (1523–1546) (Mainz: von Zabern, 1999), 25. Her concerns will be treated below. 3 Paul Althaus, The Theology of Martin Luther, trans. Robert C. Schultz (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1966), 9. 4 See section 6.3 below.

Law and Gospel and the subjectum theologiae

45

incidental, but rather as essential and determinative of the essence of the matter . . . when considered strictly from a theological point of view, [because the human] is essentially the one accused and acquitted by God.”5 Therefore, the very subject of theology is a soteriological construction in which the plight of the human is as constitutive as the justifying God. In Bayer’s Theologie, his chapter on Calvin is particularly instructive in that he articulates how fundamental to one’s entire theological program this “intolerably narrow” definition can be. He writes: This emphasis [Zuspitzung] is absent in Calvin. He does not in any way conceive all of theology as an exposition of Justification. Whereas Luther speaks of homo peccator und deus iustificans, from the outset of his Institutes, Calvin begins with the Almighty God and the powerlessness of humans . . . the killing law and the comforting gospel [tötende Gesetz und das tröstende Evangelium] are not in the center of Calvin’s thought in the way that is the case for Luther and Melanchthon. 6

Although the disagreements between Luther and Calvin are beyond the scope of this study, the importance of this difference in their epistemological starting points as it affects the role of the law in each respective soteriology cannot be overstated, because even though Calvin’s theology can be understood as the relation of cognitio Dei and cognitio suiipsius – if you recognize God, then you will recognize yourself as a sinner, as Calvin writes in the 1st Chapter of his Institutio – there is, however, no explicit limit or definition of the role of the law inherent to the definition of theology itself. What this means is that the law, theologically understood, is not limited to its killing function and can have other, more positive functions under certain conditions.7 Resting on this distinction of the killing law and justifying God as inherent to the very nature of theology, Bayer argues that the fundamental experience 5

Bayer, Martin Luther's Theology, 38. Bayer, Theologie, 163–164 where he compares the two statements concerning the subjectum theologiae: Luther: “. . Et, ita cognition dei et hominis, ut referatur tandem ad deum iustificantem et hominem pecca–torem, ut proprie sit subiectum Theologiae homo reus et perditus et deus iustificans vel salvator,” WA 40 II 327f. And Calvin: “Tota fere sapientiae nostrae summa, quae vera demum ac solida sapientia censeri debeat, duabus partibus constat, Dei cognitione et nostri.” Inst. I, 1, 1. 7 Historically, this argument over the uses of the law (usus Legis) has been a major area of contention within Lutheranism and between Lutheran and Reformed theologians. To the entire question, see: Murray, Law, Life, and the Living God; Elert, Law and Gospel, trans. Edward H. Schroeder (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1976); Larry Vogel, “A Third Use of the Law: Is the Phrase Necessary?” Concordia Theological Quarterly 69 no. 3–4: (2005), 191–220; Carl Beckwith, “Looking Into the Heart of Missouri: Justification, Sanctification, and the Third Use of the Law,” Concordia Theological Quarterly 69 (2005): 293–307; Larwence R. Rast, “The Third Use of the Law: Keeping Up to Date with An Old Issue,” Concordia Theological Quarterly 69:3–4 (2005): 187–190; and Mark C. Mattes, “Beyond the Impasse: Re–examining the Third Use of the Law,” Concordia Theological Quarterly 69 , no. 3–4 (2005): 271–291. 6

46

Towards a Positive Construal

of the homo peccator is illustrated by the account in Genesis 32 of Jacob’s struggle with God at the Jabbok. He argues that this account: Shows most clearly what happens when the God who justifies meets a sinful person. In this verbal exchange, which is a life-and-death struggle for mutual recognition, faith makes God (facit deum). Faith is the creator of the Deity (fides est creatrix divinitatis). 8 Unbelief, however, makes itself an idolater. It is in this verbal exchange between the sinful human and the God who justifies, thus between God and faith . . . that Jesus Christ is present as truly God and truly human. It is Christ’s office and work to put an end to the conflict between the naked God (deus nudus) and sinful humans.9

That human beings are essentially those who are accused and acquitted by God means that the distinction between law and gospel not only protects the clear proclamation of the gospel, but also drives it, because the accused will remain uncertain of pardon when these two words are not clearly distinguished. Bayer explains, “Clarity that produces certainty is visible only when a clear distinction is made between the gospel as promissio, as a categorical gift – ’Take and eat!’ – and the law, which makes demands and convicts one of sin.”10 Thus, the power of the law and gospel rightly distinguished lies in its sole ability to vanquish the idols of unbelief and create faith in Christ, to “drive Christ home.”11

B. “The Ground and Limit of Theology” In anticipation of our conclusion, it will be argued that this distinction between law and gospel is, as Gerhard Ebeling writes, “the decisive Pauline standpoint,” the one from which all theological reflection must begin, and what Bayer calls the “ground and limit of theology” [Grund und Grenze der

8

To this question in Luther, see Notger Slenczka, “Fides creatrix divinitatis. Zu einer These Luthers und zugleich zum Verhältnis von Theologie und Glaube,” in Denkraum Katechismus Festgabe für Oswald Bayer zum 70. Geburtstag, eds. Johannes von Lüpke and Oswald Bayer (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009), 71–196. 9 Oswald Bayer, Theology the Lutheran Way, trans. Jeffrey G. Silcock and Mark C. Mattes (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2007), 49. 10 Oswald Bayer et al., Denkraum Katechismus: Festgabe für Oswald Bayer zum 70. Geburtstag (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009), 58. 11 This phrase, “to drive Christ home,” is the most fitting translation for Luther’s phrase “was Christum treibet,” one variously translated as “bringing Christ home” and “manifest Christ,” among others, but Thomas Trapp's translation of Bayer in Theology the Lutheran Way of “driving Christ home” is the most in keeping with the role that scripture plays in the life of a believer, because when Christ is “brought home,” as it were, people of faith are created.

“The Ground and Limit of Theology”

47

Theologie.]12 Consequently, it is only in light of this emphasis that one can fully grasp how the doctrine of justification and the distinction between law and gospel are both intrinsically related and how Luther, in particular, could put such great emphasis on both. Ebeling explains: Luther does in fact lay great weight upon the doctrine of justification, but his purpose is not to give preference to one Christian doctrine amongst many others, but to make possible a thorough approach to all Christian doctrines, or, to use more radical language, to make possible a proper treatment of all conceivable doctrine. The proper function of the doctrine of justification is that of giving a true significance to all other doctrines. But it can only be understood as Luther says it if it is identical with what is implied by the distinction between the law and the gospel as the basis guiding principle of theological thought, and therefore as the decisive standard of theological judgment. Although this distinction between the law and the gospel seems at first sight to be narrow and doctrinaire, we must be prepared to be drawn by it into a realm of thought of immense scope, and yet unusually close to reality.13

This means that the distinction between law and gospel is not one doctrine among many or even one that can be subjected to others; rather, it is the main scope, the meta-hermeneutical horizon within which all other doctrines are thought out and developed. When so conceived, all doctrines are shaped by the distinction between law and gospel, because this distinction is fundamentally about what happens to human beings encountering the living God. Here, at this place “unusually close to reality,” we have come to the decisive point for Ebeling’s theological contribution, because he argues that beneath the question as to the validity of the distinction between law and gospel lies a more fundamental question, namely how Christian preaching can concern human beings at all. His answer is that on account of the reality of the homo peccator, preaching that concerns the law and gospel is never very far away from ordinary people; it is by the law and by distinguishing law from gospel that theology is close to reality. This reality concerns not only the distinction between God and humanity, as important as that is, but the structure and very nature of human existence before God – coram Deo – namely, is there a unity to God’s address that is misused or used by a wayward people, or are people the subjects of two words of God being used in the form of law and gospel? Anticipating many of the objections that were to become so prevalent through the exposition of proponents of the “New Perspective,” Ebeling calls the idea that Paul’s doctrine of the law sprang primarily out of a concern for Gentile inclusion “not only superficial but false” arguing instead that:

12

Oswald Bayer, Leibliches Wort: Reformation und Neuzeit im Konflikt (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1992), 9–34. 13 Gerhard Ebeling, Luther: An Introduction to His Thought (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1970), 113.

48

Towards a Positive Construal

The Gentile mission which is free of the law was only the immediate consequence of the fact that Christ means for sinners the end of the law. So the Pauline doctrine of the law thus had the closest connection from the start with the question of the Gentile mission, but was valid in principle independently of it.14

It is at this point where Ebeling’s understanding of significance of Christ being the telos – the end – of the law becomes particularly instructive for understanding his entire theological program and necessitates a closer, more extended look. To understand Christ as the “end of the law” is “not a case of a change in the law, whether in the sense of a partial abrogation or of a re-interpretation,” because it is not the content of the law that has come to an end, but its existence as law – as something demanding an unmet need – that is extinguished. He explains: For Paul the law is not a mere code, but a force. Looked at from the proper angle the interesting thing is not the mere ideas the law contains but the execution of it – not the content it has but so to speak the content it does not have: the fulfillment which is still outstanding. For that reason the law, when it is really fulfilled, is no longer law in the proper sense. To be sure it continues to exist, but it has ceased to be an unfulfilled law and as such a power of destruction . . . Be it noted: it is not the law itself that is dead, but man is dead to the law; and for that very reason the law has nothing more to do, because the task for which it exists is done . . . if a change occurs in man’s relation to the law, then precisely therewith a change occurs also in the nature of the law.15

In other words, when the law operates as law, it is more than simply communicating information about what should or should not be done. When the law impinges upon sinful human beings as the command of God, it is by its very existence acting as an impingement on human autonomy and, therefore, met with (ultimately futile) resistance leading to death. However, when faith is present, then this fundamental confession of God as God is realized by a change in relation from autonomous human agent once futilely existing independently of God to that aforementioned sinner – the homo peccator – who is forever in relation, as sinner, to the God who justifies. As we showed above in the debate between Ebeling and Bultmann, this change in relation is not merely an “existential” confession, because this change is the result of faith in the God who acted definitively in Jesus on behalf of the world in concrete historical acts. Accordingly, the entirety of one’s life – a life which is a collection of similarlily concrete, historical actions – is transformed from one shaped by unbelief to belief; it is transformed from one whose life was undetermined by God to one whose very existence is wrapped up in God and his word that is secured, not in the abstract, but in the concrete event of the cross and resurrection. In this respect, the law, which was given to reveal unbelief 14 15

Ebeling, “Reflections,” 271. Ibid., 271–272.

Proclamation and Reality

49

at this very point, the point of human awareness of sin, has ceased to be a law because it no longer reveals what is lacking, i.e., unbelief. Therefore, in keeping with a functional view of the law, when there is nothing for the law to do, then there is, in effect, no more law.16 The importance of this statement not only for Ebeling’s overall theological program, but that of Bayer and Forde, cannot be overstated.

C. Proclamation and Reality This appreciation of the relationship between reality and the distinction between law and gospel ensures that there is no sense in which proclamation can cease to be effective in the lives of human beings at any place or time. “The distinction between law and gospel,” writes Gerhard Forde, is the attempt to recover the present tense, the creative address character of the word, the proper usus. The word is to be used not merely to convey information but to do something to us.”17 Here again we see the refrain: the law hits home, even today. It is by the law that Christian preaching is not constantly speaking in sentimental abstractions, about something about which nobody is concerned. Here we are gaining an insight into the crucial aspect of the distinction between law and gospel that still divides, and although there are significant differences in how this is understood theologically, there is an agreed upon fundamental soteriological function to the law. The law, by way of accusation and demand, works on human beings in a way that can only be silenced by faith in its end, i.e., the gospel; the law reveals its theological roots as law on account of its diagnostic anthropological function. As we have argued, the existence of the law in the world and its ceaseless accusation is the constant that ensures the power of the Gospel proclaimed, and this also has ramifications for what takes place in the actual event of proclamation. This is, argues Forde: The crucial issue in all discussions about the Reformation doctrine of justification, and the one most poorly understood and usually overlooked. The question is whether the theology in question is so constructed or disposes as to foster a proclamation as present, unconditional address which actually delivers the new reality and does not undermine its

16

An analogy to this point could be the idea of having a sign over a spring in the desert that commanded people to drink. The sign, because the desire is already present, is unnecessary. 17 Gerhard O. Forde, “Forensic Justification and Law in Lutheran Theology,” in Justification by Faith: Lutherans and Catholics in Dialogue, eds. George T. Anderson, Austin Murphy, and Joseph A. Burgess. (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1985), 294.

50

Towards a Positive Construal

own cause by merely talking, however correctly, about it . . . the question is not merely one of what the words say but what they actually do to the hearers.18

This concept, far from peripheral to Bayer, constitutes the major thrust of his understanding of Luther’s Reformation breakthrough. Drawing from the insights of J.L Austin’s How to Do Things With Words, he writes: Luther’s great hermeneutical insight, his Reformation discovery in the strict sense, was that the verbal sign (signum) is itself the reality (res). This new insight turned the ancient understanding of language on its head. He first came to it, as we have already noted, in reflecting on the sacrament of penance. He realized that the sign means what it says. With reference to absolution, the sentence “I absolve you of your sins!” is not a judgment that merely states what is true already. It does not assume that an inner, divine, proper absolution or justification has already taken place. Rather, the absolution is seen as a speech act that first constitutes, brings about, a state of affairs, by creating a relationship between the one in whose name it is spoken and the one to whom it is spoken and who believes the promise. Such a speech act establishes communication, liberates and gives certainty. Luther calls it “verbum efficax,” an active and effective word. In Austin’s terminology, it is a performative speech act.19

For Bayer, the soteriological aspect of the law consists in the belief that, as human beings, we are called into being by God and “are addressed in such a way that one purely and simply cannot undo; we are such creatures with whom God will speak, eternally and immortally . . . whether it is in wrath or whether it is in mercy.’’20 This is where the soteriological importance of the law rests, because outside of faith in the promise to me – pro me – the world will be experienced as an oppressive, nameless force, one “which says: you must squeeze some sense of this chaos, this fearful natural realm in all its uncertainty.”21 This is theology centered on the distinction between law and gospel, one that takes seriously the Anfechtung arising from the conflict between faith and unbelief; this is theology “along the lines of Ebeling.” When the law is understood in a functional sense, then it does not diminish its moral connotation in any way, but, rather, increases it. When the law is understood to be the sum total of God’s external demand on human beings – a demand to be, to become, to answer – then the content can be understood to be much more fluid than a legal codex or set of rules, but certainly not less. For the new parent, the law can be the terrors that come with a responsibility thrust upon them, perhaps unexpectedly, just as easily as it can be a set of commandments. The freedom this theological conviction gives the preacher is enormous, because he or she can rest in the conviction that the law has, is, and will continue to do its work on the hearts and minds of sinful people; therefore, the role of the preacher is to assume that the message of the gospel 18 19 20 21

Ibid. Bayer, Theology the Lutheran Way, 129–130. Ibid., 328. Ibid., 102.

Conclusion

51

is as current and “close to reality” as it ever has been, because the fundamental structure of theology, i.e., the sinful human and justifying God, has not changed. Why some people respond to some preachers remains a mystery; however, why all people who hear preachers are not brought into contact with the law, i.e., with that which is making an ultimate claim on their lives independent of their choosing, is the fault of those who have lost the ability to distinguish between what is the gospel and what is law.

D. Conclusion Towards the end of the Bondage of the Will, Luther writes of three lights – the light of nature, the light of grace, and the light of glory – by which the world is illuminated. He writes: By the light of nature it is an insoluble problem how it can be just that a good man should suffer and a bad man prosper; but this problem is solved by the light of grace. By the light of grace it is an insoluble problem how God can damn one who is unable by any power of his own to do anything but sin and be guilty. Here both the light of nature and the light of grace tell us that it is not the fault of the unhappy man, but of an unjust God; for they cannot judge otherwise of a God who crowns one ungodly man freely and apart from merits, yet damns another who may well be less, or at least not more, ungodly. But the light of glory tells us differently, and it will show us hereafter that the God whose judgment here is one of incomprehensible righteousness is a God of most perfect and manifest righteousness. In the meantime, we can only believe this, being admonished and confirmed by the example of the light of grace, which performs a similar miracle in relation to the light of nature.22

Law and gospel in the theology of Gerhard Ebeling, Oswald Bayer and Gerhard Forde, inextricably intertwined with the doctrine of justification by faith alone, can be seen in their deep appreciation for theology and life lived “in the meantime.” It is a theology that posits that the eschaton – meaning the end judgment – has already taken place outside of Jerusalem around the year 33 A.D, and one which appropriates Jesus’ own eschatological cry τετέλεσται – it is finished – by faith. This eschatological appreciation of justification by faith is an attempt to address what Gerhard Forde calls the “Systematic Problem” that is inherent in all theologies that attempt to place the human person in a terminus ad quo to a terminus ad quem, in a transition from vice to virtue.23 In place of this, the eschatological perspective maintains that the operative metaphor for the Christian life is more appropriately one of “from death to life”; the human is not healed by grace but, rather, raised from the dead to life by faith. In this way, the aforementioned critique of Robert Jenson’s sote22 23

LW 33:292–294. See Forde, “Forensic Justification and Law in Lutheran Theology,” 280–281.

52

Towards a Positive Construal

riology levied by Gerhard Forde, that it does not take seriously enough the life lived under the law, can be applied mutatis mutandis to the critiques levied at those for whom law and gospel remain the first order structuring theological principle. For the latter, the struggle, Anfechtung, and its relationship to the deus absconditus and deus revelatus – God outside of or in Christ – is what necessitates the upholding of the distinction between law and gospel, because without it we lose an appreciation for the distinction between what can be said and what can only be confessed by faith; by protecting this distinction, we are asserting that “justification by faith” is constitutive for all of life.24 As we have shown, the distinction between law and gospel as operative in the theologies of Ebeling, Bayer and Forde, while necessarily experiential, is not merely so. It is experiential because God deals with human beings and their lives here and now, but since God uses the concrete and historic through which to work, the experience is rooted in the lived lives of historically situated people. Furthermore, since the argument rests on the conviction that God is the one using the law, all human experience can be understood as in relation to God’s law revealed, thus grounding it further in external revelation.25 Finally, because it rests on a conception of theology that places a distinction between the God who justifies and the sinful human at its very center, the theological enterprise is not one primarily geared towards reflection on various ways of eliciting moral progression, or based on philosophical speculation but, rather, constant reflection on the relationship between the accusing law and the life-giving gospel.26 The importance of this last point has profound ramifications in the life of the church, because, observes James Nestingen, “When Law and Gospel are improperly distinguished, both are undermined.” He continues: 24

To this point, see Oswald Bayer's provocative thesis where he writes: “Justification is not a separate topic apart from which still other topics could be discussed. Justification is the starting point for all theology, and it affects every other topic. Not only concerned with me individually and my own life story, it is also concerned with world history and natural history. Justification is concerned with everything.” Bayer, “Justification as the Basis and Boundary of Theology,” trans. Christine Helmer, Lutheran Quarterly 15, no. 3 (2001): 68– 69. 25 This point will be further expounded below in Verbum Externum, and Reading the Voice of God. 26 See Luther’s January 1st, 1532 Sermon “The Distinction between Law and Gospel,” trans. Willard L. Burce, Concordia Journal 18 (April 1992): 153, where, commenting on Galatians 3:23-24, he states, “What St. Paul has in mind is this: That throughout Christendom preachers and hearers alike should teach and should maintain a clear distinction between the Law and the Gospel, between works and faith. He so instructed Timothy, admonishing him (2 Tim. 2:15) ‘to divide rightly the word of truth.’ Distinguishing between the Law and the Gospel is the highest art in Christendom, one that every person who values the name Christian ought to recognize, know, and possess.”

Conclusion

53

Separated from the Law, the Gospel gets absorbed into an ideology of tolerance in which indiscriminateness is equated with grace. Separated from the Gospel the Law becomes an insatiable demand hammering away at the conscience until it destroys a person.”27

In other words, the law and Gospel, if they are to function properly, and for the life of the church, must be properly distinguished. In what follows, we will examine many of the ways people have both knowingly and unwittingly failed properly to distinguish these two, and observe how this failure negatively affects the coherence and transmission of Christian proclamation to the world.

27

Nestingen, “Distinguishing,” 12.

Chapter 4

The 20th Century Developments A. ‘Anfechtung’ Over Law and Gospel Our previous discussion of “existentialism” leads directly into an examination of another fundamental objection to maintaining an emphasis on law and gospel, already alluded to by Jenson, that it cannont avoid “funding antinomianism,” and leads to a Gnostic detatchment from creation to prevail over historic Christian teaching. In what follows, the specific claims of David Yeago to that effect will be examined, because he has been a vocal proponent of this objection and one whose concerns must be addressed from the outset, as they are the root objections from which all others grow. For Yeago, the answer to rampant Gnosticism and antinomianism is a return to a neoAristotelian theology along the lines of Thomas Aquinas, whose prevailing metaphor is that of “grace perfecting nature,” rather than, “death to life.” In order to fully appreciate the strengths and weaknesses of Yeago’s critique, it is necessary to turn from an explication of his argument back to the turn of the 20th century where we will examine the theology of Karl Holl, the inaugurator of the “Luther Renaissance.” As will be shown, despite the strengths of Karl Holl’s appreciation of the interplay between God’s wrath and Love, the inability to synthesize the two – despite his best effort – set the stage for both the positive and negative 20th century theological developments with respect to the distinction between law and gospel. Even though, as we will see, Holl’s program was definitive in many ways for the rediscovery of the importance of Anfechtung in Luther’s theological development, his positing of a synthetic rather than analytic – effective rather than forensic – justification by faith allowed for some conceptual and theological inconsistencies that precipitated, most notably, Karl Barth’s rejection of the very distinction between law and gospel in favor of seeing them as the unified address of “love.” It is this synthesis of the two that lies at the theological foundation of Jenson and all of those objecting to theology “along the lines of Ebeling.” In conclusion, we return to the mature theology of Robert Jenson as he is, once again, illustrative of one who has explicitly agreed with many of the criticisms levied and illustrates a dramatic shift on this issue. Throughout this section, what will be observed is that when the eschatological importance of the functional view of law and gospel is lost, then there is

David Yeago and the “Twin Temptations”

55

no need for maintaining a distinction between law and gospel with the urgency that Luther displayed, because there is no real disagreement about the end goal of the Christian life, i.e. the law, and the gospel becomes the agreed upon means to that end, however conceived. Each of the various critical iterations will be seen as an implicit rejection of the theological conviction that all of life is, in the words of Oswald Bayer, “nomological,” meaning one shaped by interaction with the law; there is no escape from this reality. This is the conviction which is echoed in Forde’s argument that antinomianism is a “fake theology,” – ultimately impossible– and Ebeling’s construal that human existence, on account of the fall, is fundamentally a nomological existence, an existence – ὑπὸ νόµον – under law.1

B. David Yeago and the “Twin Temptations” – Antinomianism and Gnosticism In his seminal essay “Gnosticism, Antinomianism and Reformation Theology,” theologian David Yeago presents the case against prioritizing the distinction between law and gospel as it is being interpreted and propagated by some within contemporary Protestantism. He writes: The fundamental misconstrual of the coherence of Christian faith implicit in standard modern accounts of Luther’s theology can be described quite simply: it is the assumption that a radical antagonism of law and gospel is the ultimate structuring horizon of Christian belief.2

As an example, he quotes Werner Elert’s3 influential Structure of Lutheranism, which argues that “only sinners belong in the Lutheran Church: not willful sinners, to be sure, but penitent sinners – yet always only sinners, who in 1 To this point, see Oswald Bayer, Living by Faith: Justification and Sanctification, trans. Geoffrey W. Bromiley (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2003), 3–4, where he writes, “Am I what others say about me? Am I what I know about myself? Am I balanced between these different evaluations? Questions such as these relate to my inner being, not just to something external. They affect the core, not the shell. It is not true that judgment is an addition to being. What I am, I am in my judgment about myself, intertwined with the judgment made of me by others. Person is a ‘forensic term.’” 2 David Yeago, “Gnosticism, Antinomianism, and Reformation Theology: Reflections on the Costs of a Construal,” Pro Ecclesia 2, no. 1 (1993): 38. 3 For an appreciative look at the legacy of Elert see Matthew Becker, “Werner Elert in Retrospect,” Lutheran Quarterly 20 (Autumn, 2006): 249–302. For a more comprehensive examination of the events surrounding Elert's conception of law and gospel, see Edward H. Schroeder, “Relationship Between Dogmatics and Ethics in the Thought of Elert, Barth, and Troeltsch,” Concordia Theological Monthly 36, no. 11 (1965): 744–771; and John T. Pless, “The Use and Misuse of Luther in Contemporary Debates on Homosexuality: A Look at Two Theologians,” Lutheran Forum 39, no. 2 (2005): 50–57.

56

The 20th Century Developments

this life can never be anything else . . . What its members do or do not do, miss or do not neglect in an ethical respect, belongs in the domain of sociology and has nothing at all to do with the nature of the church.”4 To this, Yeago responds: Are not contemporary mainline denominations absolutely faithful to this teaching of the great conservative confessionalist? We do not even have to recall the sinister role played by this sort of ecclesiology in the German church-struggle to see the connections. Is this not what we are constantly told in the Protestant churches today: that what members of the church do or do not do in an ethical respect belongs in the domain of sociology and has nothing at all to do with the nature of the church? . . . Moreover, consider how in this passage the notion of repentance has been stripped of all public consequences. Elert’s sinners are supposedly penitent, but this apparently makes no necessary difference to their moral behavior . . . it is hard to see what ‘penitent sinners’ could mean in this context besides ‘people who feel bad.”5

Yeago speaks for many when he diagnoses the ills of modern Protestantism as resting on the distinction between law and gospel, stating that, “The law/gospel principle leaves church and theology helpless before the twin temptations of Gnosticism and antinomianism.”6 He explains: If the saving gift of God through the gospel is deliverance from form, liberation from order and the call for order, then the God of the gospel cannot himself be a God who has “taken form” concretely in history. When the law/gospel distinction is absolutized, it becomes at least plausible to regard the triune God, the God who is conclusively self-bestowed and self-identified in the particular history of Jesus, as the oppressive, hidden God of the law, the God who enslaves and torments the human spirit.7

Indeed, drawing from Robert Jenson’s 1990 “A Call to Faithfulness,” Yeago quotes with approval Jenson’s dystopic vision of the end result of this type of emphasis on law and gospel: Surely, it is said, God . . . cannot be Jewish, or male, or a figure from a long-past century, or an apocalyptic seer, or hung up on legal commandments, or . . . Whatever may be true of the human-individual Jesus, it is said, surely the “Christ” of Christianity must be a “Christprinciple” or a “Logos-in-itself” or something similarly metaphysical and malleable, that is not Jewish, or male, or crucified, or blessed with a mother, or hung up on righteousness, or etc.8

4

Werner Elert, The Structure of Lutheranism, trans. Walter A. Hansen (Saint Louis: Concordia, 1962), 363. 5 David Yeago, “Gnosticism,” 42. 6 Ibid., 44 7 Ibid. 8 Robert W. Jenson, “A Call to Faithfulness,” Dialog 30 (Spring, 1991), 93 quoted in Yeago, “Gnosticism,” 44.

David Yeago and the “Twin Temptations”

57

Yeago’s solution to the problem can be seen to follow an oft-repeated formula9 neatly contained in his 1998 essay “Martin Luther on Grace, Law, and Moral Life: Prolegomena to an Ecumenical Discussion of Veritas Splendor,” in which he narrates the following ways in which modern Protestantism has gotten Luther and, subsequently, the Reformation, all wrong: 1. He begins by quoting from Anglican theologian Oliver O’Donovan’s “Resurrection and Moral Order: An Outline for Evangelical Ethics” to establish the problem that “most” Lutheran theologians have where “grace is grace precisely because it in no way seeks to put the life of the sinner ‘in order’ – if it did so, it would be law, not grace.”10 He continues, “The Lutheran tradition, which of all theological traditions has most strongly cherished the Pauline dialectic of law and gospel, has usually found it difficult to accept that an ordered moral demand can be, in and of itself, evangelical. The antithesis between Moses and Christ has been widened to encompass a total opposition between order and transcendence. The liberating activity of God is marked by its insusceptibility to characterization in terms of order, while order, even the order of creation, has been classed with law rather than gospel, and so assigned a purely provisional and transitory significance.” 11 2. He then argues that this is a reading of Luther wrongly based in the “problem of the troubled conscience” that is indicative of the “tendency of Lutherans to take a particular existential situation, the situation of the penitent seeking absolution, as the exclusive interpretative context within which notions such as grace and commandment, law and gospel, are to be understood . . . The penitent comes overtaxed by the demands of moral order, conscious of failure, anxious and self-condemning. What the penitent seeks is precisely to be absolved, that is, ‘cut loose’ from the unmanageable burden imposed by the law.”12 3. In answer to this misreading, he proposes to show how Luther’s theology of grace was not grounded in the existence of the “troubled conscience” but, rather, that was one part of 9 As will be shown, this is the basic structure not only for Lutherans who are in disagreement with an emphasis on this distinction, but for other Protestants as well. What follows is deeply indebted to Mark C. Mattes's exhaustive treatment in Jenson and others in The Role of Justification in Contemporary Theology (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2004). 10 Mark C. Mattes, “The Thomistic Turn in Evangelical Catholic Ethics,” Lutheran Quarterly 16, no. 1 (2002): 1. 11 Oliver O'Donovan, Resurrection and Moral Order: An Outline for Evangelical Ethics (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1986), 153; Quoted in Yeago, “Martin Luther on Grace, Law, and Moral Life: Prolegomena to An Ecumenical Discussion of Veritatis Splendor,” The Thomist (Washington: Thomist Press, 1998), 163–191, http://www. thomist.org/journal/1998/982ayeag.htm. (accessed October 13, 2011). A version of this can be understood as the “Lutheran cliché” as defined by Uwe Siemon–Netto, in The Fabricated Luther: The Rise and Fall of the Shirer Myth. St Louis: Concordia, 1995), 8. This myth, he argues, is the one that the eminent sociologist Peter L. Berger argues “separates politics from the constraints of Christian morality and, therefore, opens the way for every sort of evil, culminating in the evil of the Third Reich.” 12 Yeago, “Martin Luther,” 2.

58

The 20th Century Developments

a “broader framework.” Luther’s understanding, he argues, “is not, therefore, exhausted by the simple conflict between the two in the experience of the penitent; that experience is itself part of a large narrative, a complex story of divine purpose and its realization, and it is to this narrative context that we must look to understand his account of divine law and its place in the work of the gracious God.”13

At the beginning of section three, entitled “Law in the Context of Nature and Grace,” Yeago uses the Genesis account of Adam and Eve to frame the discussion concerning the role of the law as a particularly instructive case that “raises fundamental questions about the very idea of law, especially for a theology in which the accusing law that exposes sin plays such a large role.”14 Antinomian interpretations of this event, he argues, cannot square the notion of a law that can only accuse, burden and condemn as having any relationship to Adam and Eve, before the Fall; therefore, “since a gracious God would never impose commandments on us in the first place, the notion of sin finally falls altogether by the wayside.”15 In his following discussion, he argues that Luther saw the law given to Adam and Eve before the existence of sin as that by which they could order themselves properly to God in an “historically embodied focal point.” He continues: The importance of this cannot be overstated, particularly in view of conventional Lutheran assumptions: here Luther is describing a function of divine law, divine commandment, which is neither correlative with sin nor antithetical to grace; indeed, it presupposes the presence of grace and not sin. This function of the divine commandment is, moreover, its original and proper function. The fundamental significance of the law is thus neither to enable human beings to attain righteousness nor to accuse their sin but to give concrete, historical form to the ‘divine life’ of the human creature deified by grace.16

The answer to this misreading, he argues, is to understand that, for Luther, it is not the case that “the relationship to Christ established by faith is essentially forensic, a relationship in which I merely gain legal title to the merit of Christ promised me in the gospel . . . for Luther, the forensic relationship is secondary to a relationship of union, the union of the believer to the person of Christ as a living member of Christ’s body, the church.”17 From here, it is not a huge leap for Yeago to make the connection between his reading of Luther and the Papal encyclical Veritas Splendor, because both “relocate the notion of divine law within the context of the perfection of nature by grace.”18 With this positive affirmation of the role of the law as the “perfection of nature by grace,” Yeago has forfeited the central insight of the Reformation with respect to justification by faith alone, because he has located the saving 13 14 15 16 17 18

Ibid. Ibid., 7. Ibid. Ibid., 8. Ibid., 11. Ibid., 14.

David Yeago and the “Twin Temptations”

59

hope of the Christian in the perfection that is to come when we are, in his words, “‘deified by grace’ (as the Fathers teach us) through our conformation” to Christ in his likeness. It is clear that Yeago wants to rehabilitate a Protestant appreciation for a concept of “natural law” by which a positive use for creation and its ordering can be incorporated into the life of faith, thus addressing what he sees as an unavoidable Gnosticism at the heart of theologies not grounded in a traditional scholastic substance metaphysic. We can and will affirm his desire in this respect; however, by rejecting the concept of forensic justification and its corresponding strict distinction between law and gospel, he has undermined the teaching of salvation by faith alone by reintroducing the law – in this respect, explicitly – as the gospel. For Yeago, the gospel, the good news, is that we can be conformed to Christ by grace through faith. At this point, Yeago’s thesis is still up for debate; however, his argumentation reveals a deeper dissatisfaction with traditional Lutheran theology that is instructive for our current project. He responds to the existence of Gnosticism and antinomianism in contemporary Protestantism not with a more robust or vigorous defense of the doctrine of justification by faith, but, rather, a modified Thomism that emphasizes conformitas Christi – being conformed to Christ – as the grounds for our hope. For Yeago, the prioritizing of the distinction between law and gospel has resulted in a minimization of the importance of the historic creeds and confessions, a flaunting of the conception of Christian holiness and sanctification and, ultimately, a rejection of the incarnation, of the “scandal of particularity” – the story of Jesus of Nazareth recounted as the story of God’s ‘taking form’ concretely pro nobis in the midst of the world.”19 His diagnosis is not under contention here, as Forde and Bayer both share many of his criticisms; what is under dispute, however, is his solution. He believes that the only way to address these legitimate problems is by reintroducing a concept of the law, theologically understood. Mark Mattes describes this move as the “Thomistic Turn.” He explains: What is the Thomistic Turn? In a word, it is the attempt to link freedom and order by means of a telos, God as the highest good, particularly as expressed in the Thomistic tradition. If Christians are to avoid the pervasive Antinomianism and Gnosticism prevalent in our culture, then they must seek to order their lives on the basis of the Ten Commandments and unique practices of the catholic tradition as an embodiment or outgrowth of our participation in God as our telos, via grace.20

At this point, we have observed that Yeago views the fundamental problem with certain construals of Luther – by which he means the Reformation as a 19

Yeago, “Gnosticism,” 47. Taken as a diagnostic of the contemporary state of much of Protestant theology, I agree, in large part, with his criticisms. 20 Mark C. Mattes, “The Thomistic Turn in Evangelical Catholic Ethics,” Lutheran Quarterly 16, no. 1 (2002): 67. I am deeply indebted to his analysis in what follows.

60

The 20th Century Developments

whole – as based upon a conception of justification that is forensic in nature and, consequently, imputed to the believer by faith alone. For Yeago, the Reformation as a schism was more a product of sociological forces and political missteps than anything substantively theological.21 Indeed, as he argues, “the Reformation ‘turn’ in Luther’s theology, if one even wants to speak in such a way, is described quite wrongly if we take it as a ‘Reformation turn’ away from the catholic tradition. On the contrary, I would argue that this was a turn toward the very heart of the Catholic tradition.” In defense of this assertion, he explains: It is between the fall of 1517 and the fall of 1518, in the midst of the great controversy in which Luther soon found himself embroiled, that most scholars now locate a crucial turn in his thinking. By the end of 1518, the theme of humble endurance of God’s crucifying grace has receded into the background, not repudiated but no longer the focal point. The new center of Luther’s theology of grace became the heart’s confident assurance of the promised mercy of God in Christ, what he will later describe simply as “the faith which grasps Christ, “ fides apprehensiva Christi . . . 22

In this instance, Yeago has taken an insight that has long been associated with Luther – a reliance on the promissio of God, as Bayer has argued – but utilized it in defense of a neo-Aristotelian-Thomistic imatitio piety that views the Christian life as that of “grace perfecting nature.” However, the fact that R. Scott Clark can use the exact terminology for Luther’s “breakthrough”23 points to a deeper, more fundamental disagreement over the nature of forensic and effective justification, between the concepts of synthetic and analytic judgments, and over competing and contradictory theological definitions of law. This debate – while certainly a topic during the 16th century – began afresh at the turn of the 20th century and remains the area that most clearly illuminates the lines of dispute surrounding justification. And, although the

21 David Yeago, “The Catholic Luther,” First Things (1996): 37–41. He writes, “This reading of Luther's development suggests that the Western schism, far from being the appropriate historical outcome of principled theological disagreement, was instead a tragic chapter of accidents. There are no historical grounds for believing that the schism was the necessary outcome of Luther's theology of grace.” 22 Ibid. 23 Cf., Clark, “Iustitia Imputata Christi,” 300, where he writes, “Faith has no virtue of itself (i.e., being formed by love), but its only power is that it lays hold of Christ. The source of faith is not Spirit–wrought sanctity or even union with Christ, but ‘ex auditu Christi.’ In the preached gospel, the sinner hears the voice of Christ. The word comes from outside and faith itself comes from outside; it reciprocally reaches outside of the sinner, even after infusion, in order to justify the sinner. This is why sola fides (as opposed to fides formata caritate) justifies without works. For it is impossible to say, ‘I made Christ or the righteousness of Christ.’ It is impossible because it is not Christ formed in me whereby I am justified (contra theotic union and the medieval definition). It was Christ, as it were, formed for me. Faith is the only adequate instrument to apprehend Christ.”

Karl Holl and the Gospel of the Law

61

discussions concerning these issues have been exhaustive,24 for our purposes it is the differences in the theological role of the law that is of interest, and discussion of these differences began apace with Karl Holl and the “Luther Renaissance.”

C. Karl Holl and the Gospel of the Law Although the seeds of disagreement over the way the law and gospel are related to the doctrine of justification were sown during Luther’s own lifetime,25 and despite the vigorous debate over this relationship in Germany during the 19th century,26 the roots of the current worldwide debate lie in the (so-called) “Luther Renaissance” which was inaugurated by Karl Holl’s groundbreaking 1917 lecture entitled “What did Luther Understand by Religion?”27 Indeed, as Carter Linberg observes: Contemporary Lutheran theological reflections on justification and sanctification stem from the renaissance in Luther studies spearheaded by Karl Holl in the 1920s. The

24

For just a few of the many compendious works, see Alister E. McGrath, Iustitia Dei (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005); D. A. Carson et al., Justification and Variegated Nomism Vol. 2, the Paradoxes of Paul, (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004); D. A. Carson et al., Justification and Variegated Nomism. Volume I, the Complexities of Second Temple Judaism. (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001) 25 See Clark, “Iustitia Imputata.” See also Timothy J. Wengert, Law and Gospel: Philip Melanchthon's Debate with John Agricola of Eisleben Over Poenitentia, (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1997), 18, where he writes: “This distinction between law and gospel and its connection to true poenitentia – however straightforward they may seem to Luther scholars or Lutheran theologians today – were not nearly as clear to Luther's students and readers. Questions over the nature of poenitentia and its relation to the law and to the sacrament of penance formed the basis of the first public controversy among Luther's students and profoundly shaped the nature of later Lutheranism by making the distinction between law and gospel one of its ‘Distinguishing’ characteristics. It is this controversy that the present study will investigate.” 26 See Robert Schultz, Gesetz und Evangelium in der lutherischen Theologie des 19. Jahrhunderts (Berlin: Lutherisches Verlagshaus, 1958) for a very helpful treatment of the intellectual history. 27 In the editor’s introduction to to the English version, Walter F. Bense explains that in this lecture (and beyond), Holl inaugurates a renewal of Luther research that was marked by three characteristics: 1) An unprecedented use of newly available resources for the study of Luther. 2) Emphasis on Luther's personal views, their origin and development, rather than on the Lutheran confessional writings and the theology – Lutheran Orthodoxy – based on these confessions. 3) Limited treatment of particular aspects of Luther's thought and work, rather than comprehensive studies of his theology as a whole. See Karl Holl What did Luther Understand by Religion? trans. James Luther Adams and Walter Bense (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1977), 2–3.

62

The 20th Century Developments

recovery of a theocentric orientation, and the consciousness of human sin, divine wrath, and the theology of the cross led to a renewed emphasis on the doctrine of justification.28

Despite an enduring disagreement over his view of justification as either synthetic or analytic,29 for our purposes what is significant about Holl was his emphasis on Luther’s as a “religion of conscience” (Gewissensreligion), because it emphasized that the existence of both God’s wrath and love could neither be synthesized or explained away but, rather, must be endured by faith. He writes, “Over against the idea of the holy, unrelenting, demanding God is set the other, that God is full of marvelous goodness. The one is to be maintained as sharply and completely as the other, without attempting an internal compromise. But this paradox is nothing other than the essence of the Christian faith.”30 As we will see, there are deficiencies in Holl’s conception of law and gospel that ultimately undermine this assertion of his that will be addressed below; however, in both his refusal to abandon the dialectic between wrath and love, and his appreciation for the way wrath operates in the lives of both Christians and non-Christians with respect to faith, he signifi28 Carter Lindberg, “Do Lutherans Shout Justification but Whisper Sanctification?” Lutheran Quarterly 13 (1999): 11. For a helpful analysis of the cultural situation from which Holl emerged, see Karl Kupisch, “The 'Luther Renaissance,” Journal of Contemporary History 2, no. 4 (1967): 39–49. 29 See Wilfred Härle, “Analytische und synthetische Urteile in der Rechtfertigungslehre,” Neue Zeitschrift für Systematicsche Theologie und Religionsphilosophie 16, no. 1 (1974): 19– 20. He gets to the point of contention with Holl on this point when he writes, “Wo ist in dieser Hollschen Konzeption Platz für die Lehre von der Rechfertigung des Sünders? Holl betont immer wieder nachdrücklich, der Mensch, den Gott rechtfertigt, sei 'Sünder und nur Sünder'. Und dies gilt nicht nur aus der Sicht des Menschen, sondern gerade 'von Gott aus angesehen erscheint die Rechtfertigung als freie Setzung eines Verhältnisses zwischen sich und dem Sünder' Die Spannung zwischen dieser Aussage und den obigen Ausführungen ist evident. Lief dort alles auf den Satz hinaus: 'Gott rechtfertigt den Geredeten', so heißt es nun: 'Gott rechtfertigt den Sünder'.Wie läßt sich beides miteinander vereinbaren?” [emphasis in the original]; Carl Braaten has described his impact and subsequent confusion as dealing with just this point, too. He writes, “Holl’s widespread impact on Lutheranism is seen in the difficulty of defining justification at the Helsinki meeting of the Lutheran World Federation in 1963 . . . One of the chief contributing factors to the modern quandary over the meaning of justification was Karl Holl’s conclusion that Luther taught an ‘analytic’ justification“rather than a synthetic or forensic one. At Helsinki two theological views struggled for ascendency, ‘those of Karl Holl’ and those of Theodosius Harnack. Little did the majority of delegates realize that the contending parties were following theological signals given behind the scenes,” quoted in Armand J. Boehme et al., “Tributaries Into the River JDDJ: Karl Holl and Luther's Doctrine of Justification,” trans. Jacob Corzine, LOGIA (Holy Trinity, 2009): 13–14. Boehme has, although independently of my own research, drawn similar conclusions as to the shape of what follows. 30 Karl Holl, Gesammelte Aufsätze zur Kirchengeschichte. 3, Der Westen (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 19655), 66, quoted in Forde, The Law Gospel Debate, 128.

Karl Holl and the Gospel of the Law

63

cantly reoriented the discussion surrounding justification by faith in ways that, as we will see, are still being debated.31 For Holl, like Kant before him,32 the existence of the law’s external demand that comes into conflict with autonomous desire is an argument for the existence of God; universal religion consists in the initial experience of God in the human conscience as understood outside of the specific revelation of the positive law of Sinai and, instead, as the – sollen – or moral demand.33 However, observes Forde, when religion “is reduced to the dimensions of law and its rewards,” the question becomes how that can be understood as the “freedom of the Gospel.” This is where Kant, he argues, makes the fateful move by, “fall[ing] back on the idea of the moral law within. Man hears within himself the voice of the moral law demanding that he do the good for the sake of the good. And since the moral law comes from within, it is at the same time the guarantee of freedom.”34 With this move, Kant is able to assert that the call and demand of the law is actually that which protects our free31

Of particular importance, which will become clear, is Holl's appreciation of the role of the conscience as “self judgment” in light of the demand of the law. See Ulrich Barth, Die Christologie Emanuel Hirschs: eine systematische und problemgeschichtliche Darstellung ihrer geschichtsmetodologischen, erkenntniskritischen und subjektivitätstheoretischen Grundlagen (Berlin: W. de Gruyter, 1992), 29, where he explains, “Im Selbstgericht des Gewissens ist nach Holl zwangsläufig auch eine neue Sich des Gottesverhältnisses enthalten. Der Mensch kann nich darin fortfahren, Gott und sich selbst in der Weise einander zuzuordnen, ‘wie er selbst sich das Verhaeltnis zurecht gemacht hat’ (Holl 1907, 8). Die Notwendigkeit enier solchen Selbstrelativierung des Menschen hinsichtlich der Fähigkeit zur Ausdeutung des Gottesverhältnisses wird einsehbar, wenn man sich klarmacht, woraus die Radikalität jenes Selbstgerichts resultiert.” 32 We will see that this relationship to Kant's “categorical imperative” has invalidated his theology in the eyes of many detractors; however, particularly in his response to similar criticisms levied by Frederick Gogarten, Holl argues that a recognition of the form of the “categorical imperative” which was so instructive for Kant's development of his “Religion within the Limits of Reason Alone” does not necessarily endorse the content of said construction. Holl observes, “Kant's undeniable historical merit is to have again defined submission to something unconditional as the true meaning of morality. But Kant indicates that the reason we submit to that unconditional something is our regard for our own ‘dignity,’ that is, our self–respect. Because of this latter element I have always unmistakably rejected Kantian ethics.” Holl, What Did Luther Understand by Religion? 112. Critics of his have been too quick to overlook this type of qualification in Holl. 33 Holl argues that, for Luther, this awareness “issues from a particular kind of conscientious experience – namely, his unique experience of the conflict between a keen sense of responsibility and the unconditional, absolute validity of the divine will – and reaches the conviction that in the sense of obligation (sollen), which impresses it demands so irresistibility of the human will, divinity reveals itself most clearly; and the more profoundly a person is touched by the obligation and the more sharply it contrast with one's ‘natural’ desires, the more lucid and unambiguous is the revelation.” Holl, What Did Luther Understand by Religion? 48. 34 Forde, “Eschatology: The Last Word First,” in A More Radical Gospel, 36.

64

The 20th Century Developments

dom, an assertion that Forde argues, is “surely is the high-water mark, in modern times, of the positive appreciation of law.”35` However, it was just the severity and stringency of Kant’s proposal – one that “did not escape the lex semper accusat [the law always accuses], [but] succeeded only in making it more absolute”36 – that laid the groundwork for its wholesale rejection. “Indeed,” writes Forde, “one could say that from one point of view, the very problem posed for the nineteenth century was that of escaping from the rigors of Kant’s view of the law.”37 Although some attempted to escape,38 Holl, on the contrary, fully embraced the powerful demand – the sollen – of Kant while rejecting his ultimate philosophical move. Because although he very much appreciated the conflict between the external sollen and the human will, he also saw that when this conflict is coupled with a system of merit in which self-sacrifice, however painful, is ultimately rewarded – a eudemonistic system – then God ceases to be the focus of true worship and is replaced, however subtly, by self-interest and self-serving. As a result of this “idea of merit,” he writes, “even Christianity, then, is overcome by the temptation that besets all religion, the desire somehow to coerce the sublime power that it venerates.”39 For Luther, this was the point of contention with Erasmus and his great insight into the bondage of the will that became fundamental for Holl’s reconstruction. What Holl inaugurated was nothing less than a movement to refound the hermeneutical key to Luther’s theology40 In contrast to much of 19th century Lutheran thought, Holl argued that “religious experience” was not constituted by a general conception of freedom, one which looked to Luther’s tract on The Freedom of a Christian and his confession at the Diet of Worms as the grounding hermeneutic but, rather, looked to the experience of Anfechtung (Anfechtungserfahrung) and the bound will as the key. This insight is, according to Notger Slenczka, Holl’s “hermeneutical key to the theology of Luther, or, in other words, the meaning of the Reformation.”41 This is a significant 35

Ibid. Ibid., 37. 37 Ibid., 37. 38 See Otto Wolff, Die Haupttypen der neueren Lutherdeutung (Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1938); and Robert C. Schultz, Gesetz und Evangelium in der lutherischen Theologie des 19. Jahrhunderts (Berlin: Lutherisches Verlagshaus, 1958), for more on this debate in the 19th century. 39 Holl, What Did Luther Understand by Religion? 19. 40 See Heinrich Assel, Der andere Aufbruch: die Lutherrenaissance – Ursprünge, Aporien und Wege: Karl Holl, Emanuel Hirsch, Rudolf Hermann (1910–1935) (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1994). 41 Notger Slenczka et al., Luthers Erben. Studien zur Rezeptionsgeschichte der reformatorischen Theologie: Festschrift für Jörg Baur zum 75. Geburtstag (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005), 210. 36

Karl Holl and the Gospel of the Law

65

move, because central to Holl’s reconstruction of Luther was an appreciation for “the unity in which the three concepts of judgment, moral demand, and faith in the goodness of God are bound together [which] constitutes the power of the Christian religion and an inexhaustible challenge to its theology.”42 What sets Holl’s interpretation apart, and what will become significant for the rest of the discussion concerning law and gospel, is that he sees the unity of these three, the “inexhaustible challenge,” as only achieved (or believed, as it were) through the experience of faith in the midst of Anfechtung. Drawing from Luther’s statement to Erasmus about the “room for the exercise of faith,”43 Holl argues that the power of faith is revealed by the ability – not the demand – to confess “God against God”; in other words, to confess that God is “gracious toward him even though his conscience testifies clearly and distinctly – and as he is forced to admit, rightly – that he stands under God’s wrath.”44 As Luther wrote, “God so orders this corporal world in its external affairs that if you respect and follow the judgment of human reason, you are bound to say either that there is no God or that God is unjust.”45 So Holl appreciates that a world confronted by the sollen of God, however conceived,46 is unable independently to believe that God is the “most merciful Father”; yet this is exactly what constitutes the life of faith.47 As we have seen, in answer to the “inexhaustible challenge” presented by the Christian faith, Holl has described the awareness of the divine sollen – the moral demand – as bringing to the fore God’s wrath and judgment on sin. In order to avoid the eudemonistic trap of conceiving a way out of this judgment by recourse to selfabasement or self-sacrifice, Holl adds the final piece of his triad – faith – which, must be explained with respect to the judgment and demand. Holl writes:

42

Holl, What Did Luther Understand by Religion? 17. See LW 33: 62–63, “Thus God hides his eternal goodness and mercy under eternal wrath, his righteousness under iniquity. This is the highest degree of faith, to believe him merciful when he saves so few and damns so many, and to believe him righteous when by his own will he makes us necessarily damnable, so that he seems, according to Erasmus, to delight in the torments of the wretched and to be worthy of hatred rather than of love. If, then, I could by any means comprehend how this God can be merciful and just who displays so much wrath and iniquity, there would be no need of faith.” 44 Holl, What Did Luther Understand by Religion? 114. 45 LW 33: 291 46 That this sollen manifests in both spiritual and creaturly mundane concerns will be the great insight that Forde and Bayer will offer below. 47 He explains, “No doubt Luther was right in saying that the fulfillment of this would be a masterpiece of faith. If trust is confidence in the good intent of another even when that person's actions seems to prove the opposite, and if the placing of such trust in another is truly to honor him, then surely life under the cross provides the opportunity to give God the highest honor.” Holl, What Did Luther Understand by Religion? 93. 43

66

The 20th Century Developments

Corresponding to all this was a change in the concept of sin. If faith in the sense indicated is our basic duty, then unbelief, in whatever form, is the worst of all sins, whether it takes the form of despair and hatred of God, of murmuring against God and his law, or above all of pride. Already at this point Luther takes pride more seriously than the sins designated as mortal by the church. More precisely, pride emerges from the list of seven deadly sins with a new meaning that goes even beyond Augustine. As the refusal unconditionally to accept God’s offer of forgiveness, it is the fundamental sin against God.48

This is why, for Holl, the cross and resurrection – forgiveness and the assurance of forgiveness – have become the theological locus of “central concern.” As Walter Bense explains in his preface to Holl’s What did Luther Understand by Religion?, “To conceive of God as the One who can and wants to forgive was, for Holl, to understand the most wonderful and profound truth about him. Its recognition, which secured one’s relationship to God, was more important than everything else.”49 For Holl, it is the seemingly paradoxical experience of total judgment in light of the cross that evokes faith in the goodness of God that can even, he argues, see anfechtung itself as a gift,50 because it had its roots in the just judgment of God that had, nevertheless, been forgiven on the cross. He explains: Against the background of this direct experience of judgment, the full meaning of forgiveness stands out in bold relief. Now it is seen as the establishment of a divine-human relationship on an entirely new basis. It really is the establishment of a relationship and not merely the repair or improvement of an existing one.51

Because the right relationship to God can only be established by this acceptance of forgiveness, Holl, following Luther, limits speculation of God in ipse – in himself – to only where he has been revealed in Christ, because it is only in him that the corresponding Anfechtung is addressed by the words of forgiveness and mercy. He explains: Luther often enough enunciated the principle that one must not begin by ‘speculating’ about the ‘majesty’ of God . . . For the God of majesty is not some ‘God in his essence” [Gott ‘an sich’] or some God conjured up by speculation (as we use the term) but the God of moral majesty, the God who states this demand and judges us accordingly. This God could crush us . . . If, therefore, one desires to ‘find’ God, that is, if one wants to be united with him, one must confine oneself to the God who has revealed himself in Christ as the love that seeks us, as pardoning mercy.52 48

Ibid., 47. Ibid., 43. 50 See Ibid., 81.n51, where he writes “To spell this out further – God can put away his wrath as soon as he has brought us to the point where we can see ourselves as we are and are fully aware of the conflict between God's will and our natural self–assertiveness. See WA 5 p. 206, 11. 18ff . . . From the human side, justification would be the moment when we attain the courage to regard Anfechtung itself as a gift from God.” 51 Ibid., 45. 52 Ibid., 51n28. 49

Karl Holl and the Gospel of the Law

67

Thus, for Holl, the confession of sins becomes synonymous with the confession of Christ and the fulfillment of the first commandment by faith. This insight into the interplay between judgment, demand, and faith as revolving around the theological loci of the law, cross, and the forgiveness of sins is an aspect of his program that is significant to our concerns here. As Walter von Lowenich in the 4th edition of his Luther’s Theology of the Cross observes, even though the theologia crucis – the theology of the cross – is not specifically treated in Holl’s magisterial exposition of Luther, his theology “shows clearly, if only in broad outline, the inner connection of cross, trial, faith, and view of God (hidden God, God against God).”53 This interplay will come to be an area of deep dissatisfaction for contemporary critics of the “renaissance” that he inaugurated because of this reliance on the epistemological elevation of the distinction between law and gospel by an emphasis on the connection between the cross and faith – in short, his emphasis on what is understood as the theologia crucis: the theology of the cross.54 Christine Helmer articulates a commonly held critical narration of Holl’s legacy: Since Holl’s study of religious conscience and von Harnack’s polemic against the Greek conception of Christian dogma’s birth, Luther scholars have tended to link Luther’s determination of justification to the subjective element, the experience of faith. Althaus, for example, opposed Luther’s “salvific faith,” as the trust in the divine benefits, with “dogmatic faith,” as a cognitive assent to objective dogma. What justifies is the former; the latter, being theoretical and without existential relevance, does not.55

In other words, according to Helmer and subsequent critics, because Holl reintroduces the concept of Anfechtung as a locus of central concern around which the questions of justification revolves, there has been an overemphasis on the “subjective” reception of faith over any “objective” dogmatic theological statement. When combined with Holl’s anti-metaphysical stance towards traditional scholastic ontology, this opens him up to the critique of those who 53 Walther von Loewenich, Luther's Theology of the Cross, trans. Herbert J. A. Bouman (Minneapolis: Augsburg Pub. House, 1976), 172 n2. In this book, von Loewenich gives a very helpful and concise summary of 19th and early 20th century treatments of Luther's “theology of the cross.” 54 See Helmer, The Trinity and Martin Luther, 16, where she explains: “Two moments can be seen to constitute what Luther scholars have termed the ‘theologia crucis.’ The first moment points to the divine hiddenness of the cross; hidden underneath the blood-sacrifice is the divine mercy. The effects of this work or event determine the second moment of the correlation. The concept of justification includes its subjective reception in faith, a concept discussed by scholars in various ways. Elert, for example attributes transcendental status to the I who is justifed by faith. Ebeling conceives justification as the existential reception in faith of the word from the cross. Christ on the cross, rendered present to the believer through the word, becomes the existential content of faith in the divine mercy.” This critique will be incorporated into Jenson's mature Trinitarian theology. Jenson, Systematic Theology, p. 179. 55 Helmer, The Trinity and Martin Luther, 9–10.

68

The 20th Century Developments

see him and his followers as hopelessly influenced by Kant towards a noumenal/phenomenal split that tends irreducibly towards philosophical existentialism. So Carl Braaten and Robert Jenson can state with conviction that the results of current scholarship are: . . . revising a century of Luther interpretation dominated by German Protestant theologians, who notoriously read Luther under the spell of neo-Kantian presuppositions . . . On this basis one should ignore all ontology found in Luther; faith is purely an act of the will with no ontological implication. Faith as volitional obedience rather than as ontological participation is all that a neo-Kantianized Luther could allow.56

Within contemporary scholarship, any rejection of traditional substance metaphysics with its concomitant emphasis on the subjective element of faith earns the label “neo-Kantian.”57 Holl, it is argued, is Kantian on account of the fact that since he sees the two purposes of the law as (1) to expose the eudemonism inherent in all human striving to God, (2) thus preparing for the believer’s ultimate conformity to that same law by faith, he is, therefore, ultimately concerned only with the uniting of the human will with the moral will of God. In this, he rejects any ontological significance to Christ’s indwelling by the Spirit and, rather, conceives of him as God’s Werkzeug58 [tool] towards the end of moral conformity.59 Consequently, this Kantian rejection of substance metaphysics severs him from the traditional “means of grace” and leaves him, it is argued, squarely in line with a form of philosoph56

Carl E. Braaten and Robert W. Jenson, “Introduction,” in Union with Christ: The New Finnish Interpretation of Luther (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1998), viii. 57 Cf., Westphal, Merold. Christian Philosophers and the Copernican Revolution,” in Overcoming Onto-Theology: Toward a Postmodern Christian Faith (New York: Fordham Univ. Press, 2001), 89–105. 58 This is the substance of Risto Saarinen’s critique in Gottes Wirken auf uns: die Transzendentale Deutung des Gegenwart–Christi–Motivs in der Lutherforschung (Stuttgart: Steiner Verlag Wiesbaden, 1989), 179. “Nach Holl is Christus für Luther Gottes ‘Werkzeug,’ mit dessen Hilfe Gott seine Macht am Menschen ausübt.” 59 See Steven D. Paulson, Lutheran Theology (London; New York: T. & T. Clark International, 2011), 198. Paulson writes, “The typical approach is to think of the Spirit as perfecting our free will so that Spirit becomes a union of human and divine wills. We can take the case of the notable Luther scholar Karl Holl (1866–1926), who propagated the ‘Luther renaissance’ of the late nineteenth century that sought to unify Kant and Luther . . . Holl thought Luther simply equated the ‘warm inner feeling for God’ with the Holy Spirit and so likewise with the indwelling of Jesus Christ.” To this critique, cf., Prenter, Regin. Spiritus Creator, trans. John M. Jensen (Philadelphia: Muhlenberg Press, 1953), 173–183. Notably, Prenter locates Holl's error in a confusion between the persons and work of Christ and the Holy Spirit, saying “If Christ and the Spirit are not separated, it becomes impossible to distinguish between Christ of the law and Christ of the gospel, between Christ as an idea and Christ as a redeeming reality . . .Where, as in Holl, the Spirit and Christ in us are easily permitted to appear as synonymous it is an indication that only Christ of the law is considered, the idea of Christ.”

Karl Holl and the Gospel of the Law

69

ical existentialism that devalues both any objective conceptions of God60 and any sacramental means by which that God could sustain the Christian life.61 What is overlooked in these critiques, however, is that a rejection of substance-metaphysics is not an arbitrary move based upon a philosophical predetermination but, rather, a result of two interrelated theological determinations: (1) a belief in the epistemic limit imposed by human finitude and (2) an appreciation for the nature of faith as constituting its own unique ontological significance.62 These theological determinations were not, for Holl, the result of the privileging a philosophy over theology but, rather, a result of his research into Luther’s concept of Anfechtung, which resulted from the very lack of ontological transformation along traditional scholastic lines. Because Holl’s Luther “believed, as directed by the doctrine of the church, that a new power of grace had been poured into him which could continually raise him above himself … he was crushed when he found that he was basically the same man as before.”63 So Holl can reject a concept of “union” along the lines of Medieval Scholasticism as “a mysteriously infused power accompanying the forgiveness of sins. [Rather] the forgiveness of sins itself, that is, the consciousness of being accepted by God, immediately directs the will toward God as soon as it is understood and appreciated.”64 In other words, Luther’s breakthrough appreciation for the power of faith alone to overcome Anfechtung came precisely at the point of the anguish caused by the failure of an ontologically infused righteousness to effect change.65 60 Cf., Paul Hinlicky, “Luther's New Language of the Spirit,” in The Substance of the Faith, 174, where he writes, “Luther has no interest in theoria penetrating the ineffable mystery of God, and such inquiry is no part of the theological task of critical dogmatics, this much the existentialists have right in rebellion against Hegel. Granted. But Hegel was even more right, for his part, to maintain that those who abandon the claim to knowledge of god no longer have the right to call themselves theologians – a critique that also strikes today's constructivists, who, for all luxuriant god-talk, never claim to know God. Because existentialists construe Luther's proscription of theoria in Kantian fashion as a stricture on the reach of reason, they miss what matters most to Luther: the knowledge of God given by God in god's self-objectification in the world as the crucified Son, which for Luther is the axial proposition of Christian theology and the test of the spirits. Ergo in Christo crucifixio est vera theologia et cognitia dei.” Although Hinlicky and Bielfeldt lump all “neo– Kantians” into this criticism, it is hard to see how, for Holl, there is no necessity for the “objective” reality of Christ on the cross in the overcoming of Anfechtung. Their critiques, as will be argued, are directed at the wrong people. 61 See Prenter, Spiritus Creator, 183–184 62 See Westphal, “Overcoming Onto-Theology,” in Overcoming Onto-Theology: Toward a Postmodern Christian Faith, 1–28. Also, to this point, see Timothy Stanley Protestant Metaphysics After Karl Barth and Martin Heidegger (London: Scm, 2010). 63 Holl, What did Luther Understand by Religion? 39. 64 Ibid., 85. 65 This is an aspect of Holl's program that remains problematic and to which the theologies of Bayer and Forde can be seen as a corrective, because when the center of one's

70

The 20th Century Developments

For Holl, Luther’s theology was one of “conscience,” precisely on account of the interplay between the dual experience of God’s justice and forgiveness worked out in the lives of Christians, and was a significant step in recapturing the pastoral and theological significance of the doctrine of justification for teaching and preaching, because by it he took the experience of human beings under the wrath of God as a major concern for Christian theology. However, as significant as Holl’s articulation of the phenomenology of Luther’s religion centered on Anfechtung was for subsequent theological development, so would his answer be to the question to which all of this analysis was directed, namely, “the paradoxical relationship between God’s wrath and love in Luther’s theology.”66 Important though the Anfechtung under the just wrath of God is for Holl’s construction, he nevertheless posits a distinction between two kinds of wrath: “a severe and destructive wrath that is designed only to punish [and] ‘wrath of mercy’ that purges and liberates.”67 According to Holl, the life of faith can come to a point where: . . . in and through wrath, a love is revealed which desires the ultimate for people and which works tirelessly to this end . . . Behind the annihilation, Luther sees a coming-to-be; behind the destruction a creation, the emergence of something eternal into the perishing of the finite.68

In other words, there is a sense in which, for Holl, the believer, by faith, is brought to a place where the experienced wrath is seen through and confessed to be the work of love. Although Holl places more emphasis on the enduring effects of the law in the life of the believer, and highlights the experience of what Bayer will call the “oscillation between faith and unfaith” as the locus for Anfechtung, he succumbs to the temptation to explain the existence of these experiences as being for the purpose of a higher call of “love.” This explained God, writes Forde, “ is not the God who seeks the lost, but the God whom the lost (even if with the aid of grace) must seek and attempt to appease, the just rewarder of pious effort, the God of law who always turns against us.”69 While this would seem to be exactly what Holl wanted to avoid, theology revolves around a subjective experience of the unmet, absolute moral demand and is also severed from any objective means of mediated absolution, i.e., sacraments, then the only recourse a person has to overcome said subjective feeling is in the hope for conformity to the law. cf., John A. Maxfield, ed. A Justification Odyssey: Papers Presented at the Congress on the Lutheran Confessions, Bloomingdale, Illinois, April 19– 21, 2001 (St. Louis: Luther Academy, 2002), 122–124. 66 David W. Lotz, Ritschl & Luther; A Fresh Perspective on Albrecht Ritschl's Theology in the Light of His Luther Study (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1974), 154. 67 Holl, What Did Luther Understand by Religion? 54. 68 Ibid., 55. 69 Gerhard O. Forde, Theology Is for Proclamation (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1990), 31. To this point, see also, Klaus Schwarzwäller “The Bondage of the Free Human,”

Karl Holl and the Gospel of the Law

71

he did not fully appreciate the eschatological tension as it exists in the present life of the believer under Anfechtung and, therefore, had no way of conceiving the Christian life other than as a progression – albeit a more realistically difficult one than many had offered before – from a state of vice to virtue by means of participation in God. He states: In justification, Luther regards it as essential that the one with whom God – out of free grace – has entered into relationship will also actually become righteous in this relationship; otherwise God’s judgment of justification would amount to a lie. To be sure, it is not a case of forming a good intention to ‘mend one’s ways’ after one has been justified; rather, God himself transforms the person within the new relationship.70

Holl’s view of the believer being conformed to the law through this “relationship” to Christ, however gracious, is nevertheless still seen as a guide to God. What this move results in, argues Forde, is an “ontologizing of Jesus,” which, because it relies on a description of the future, ignores the “hermeneutical turn” that understands the preached word as the medium by which the law and gospel put to death the hearer and raise him or her to new life by faith. This is the eschatological dimension of the law and gospel that appreciates the believer as simul iustus et peccator – simultaneously justified and sinful – as one who, by faith, exists as one in constant need of being resurrected out of death, i.e., unbelief, by faith. This is the eschatological “rupture” that is missing in Holl’s description of the believer and, as such, allows his interpretation, despite, perhaps, his intentions, to be turned into a way of conceiving the Christian life as that of “grace perfecting nature.” However, when this eschatological dimension is properly appreciated, as it is along the lines of Bayer’s interpretation, then: The rupture between the old and new world, one that occurs in what happened on the cross of Christ and which marks each one biographically in baptism . . . [then it] . . . ruptures metaphysical concepts of an overall unity as well as historical-theological thinking that one can achieve perfection . . . 71

In other words, the confession that one is justified by faith in Christ alone remains the only ultimate security for the believer, because other inward assurances are unprepared to withstand God’s wrath, however conceived. This is why, furthermore, the proper eschatological nature of this “rupture” must be located at the cross, because when it is moved to either the “eternal decree of God,”72 as is the case with Karl Barth, or the future consummation

in Gerhard O. Forde et al., By Faith Alone: Essays on Justification in Honor of Gerhard O. Forde (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2004), 46–67. 70 Holl, What Did Luther Understand by Religion? 117. 71 Bayer, Theology the Lutheran Way, 9. 72 Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics. II.2 (London: T. & T. Clark, 2004), 94.

72

The 20th Century Developments

of the spirit,73 as is the case with Jenson, then all real appreciation for the life lived by faith in the present, in this “rupture” is, ultimately, lost. When this is lost, as has been argued, then the point of connection to the universal experience under the demands of the law – that of lived human existence as it relates to both Christians and non-Christians alike – is lost, and when that is lost, then the inteligibillty and consistency of the entire Christian faith is brought into question. We will pick up this critique in more detail below, but now turn, briefly, to the second most significant event in the development of the distinction between law and gospel, and the place where this essential rupture is most clearly minimized, i.e., to the publication of Karl Barth’s 1935 “Gospel and Law.”

D. Karl Barth and “Gospel and Law” In this essay, “Gospel and Law,” Barth opens with the statement: If I chose the title, “Law and Gospel,” I would have to speak in terms of the formula which has come to be taken almost for granted among us. But I should like immediately to call attention to the fact that I shall not speak about “Law and Gospel” but about “Gospel and Law.74

73 See Jenson’s chapter “Pneumatological Soteriology,” in Braaten et al., Christian Dogmatics (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1984). 74 Karl Barth, “Gospel and Law,” in Community, State and Church: Three Essays, trans. David Haddroff (Garden City: Doubleday, 1960), 70. What follows from Barth is, in part, an attempt to redress what he saw as an unholy capitulation of the German Volkskirche, under the auspices of the “distinction between law and gospel,” to the whims of an increasingly totalitarian German state. For an analysis of the continuing religious and political discussion that this specific essay inaugurated, albeit one that takes up Barth's critique against Luther, see Bayer, Theology the Lutheran Way. The broader issue raised here, although based in the distinction between law and gospel, is that of Luther's contentious doctrine of the “two kingdoms.” Much has been written on this subject. See John Couenhoven, “Law and Gospel, or the Law of the Gospel? Karl Barth’s Political Theology Compared with Luther and Calvin,” Journal of Religious Ethics 30, no. 2 (2002):181–205; also, see Notger Slenczka, “Gott und das Böse: Die Lehre von der Obrigkeit und von den zwei Reichen bei Luther.” Luther 79, no. 2 (2008): 75–94, for an examination of how Luther's own work concerning the relationship between the “two kingdoms” developed not as a systematic concern, but rather in response to external events, i.e., the Bauernkrieg and, as such, relies more on a foundational distinction between law and gospel rather than being an independent theological concern. Despite objections, many theologians followed Barth's judgment, recorded in a letter written December 1939, that the German people “[are] suffering from the heritage of the greatest Christian German, to wit, from Martin Luther's error concerning their relationship between law and gospel and between secular and spiritual order and power, an error whose effect was not to limit and restrict his natural paganism (Heidentum), but – on the contrary – to

Karl Barth and “Gospel and Law”

73

What follows marks a decisive shift in the way the entire concept was understood theologically from the time of the Reformation and reemphasized by the “Luther Renaissance.” So fundamental was the shift resulting from Barth’s critique, that after this essay those advocating the traditional ordering of the distinction would not only have to defend their preference, but would find themselves increasingly in the minority.75 In Barth, we can observe how integral one’s appreciation of the relationship between law and gospel is to subsequent theological formulations. Unlike theological loci within which one can develop, there is no room for movement in this particular instance. Either, with Werner Elert, the law and gospel exist in a realdialektischen Gegensatz – an objective, actual dialectical opposition – however conceived, or else they exist in some sort of synthetic unity; these are the only two alternatives.76 This importance is not lost on Barth and, observes Forde, is not “one of those instances in which Barth has altered his position with time. In a later volume of the Church Dogmatics Barth reasserts his original position on gospel and law and insists that this belongs to the bedrock (eisernen Bestand) of his dogmatic.”77 Whereas Holl acknowledged that the distinction between law and gospel correlated to the distinction between wrath and love, Karl Barth would make a move that would prove decisive for all subsequent reflection on law and gospel. Contrary to Elert and those who maintained a distinction between law and gospel, Karl Barth would argue that this dialectical relationship between law and gospel should be supplanted altogether by

accord it ideological glorification, sustenance and encouragement.” Karl Barth, Eine Schweizer Stimme (Zürich, 1945), 113, quoted in John R. Stephenson, “The Two Governments and the Two Kingdoms in Luther’s Thought,” Scottish Journal of Theology, Vol. 34 (1981): 335. 75 One of the most persistent and articulate opponents of Barth's formulation was Werner Elert in his essay “Gesetz und Evangelium,” in Werner Elert, Zwischen Gnade und Ungnade: Abwandlungen des Themas Gesetz und Evangelium (München: Evangelischer Presseverband für Bayern, 1948), as but one example, albeit with particular interest to the study at hand. Barth was not alone in his attempt to synthesize the law and gospel while retaining an emphasis on historic Protestant formulations. For example, Paul Althaus attempts to forge a third way beyond the impasse between law and gospel by contrasting the ideas of law vs. command as the latter being the law as understood by faith. His argument is more amenable to our purposes here in that he is not advocating a complete rejection of the distinction, however, his position with respect to the “third use of the law” indicates his lack of appreciation for the eschatological dialectic within which we are operating here. Much has been written about this issue of the “third use of the law.” See also: Paul Althaus, Divine Command: A New Perspective on Law and Gospel trans. Franklin Sherman (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1966) 76 Werner Elert, Law and Gospel, trans. Edward H. Schroeder (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1976), 1. 77 Forde, The Law Gospel Debate, 167.

74

The 20th Century Developments

seeing them as a unified address of God’s love linked in Christ as “Form” and “Content.” We will return to look at Barth’s argument in more detail below, but with this publication of “Gospel and Law” a theological voice was given to the then as yet unformed but nevertheless growing sentiment that any substantial weight given to the traditional “Lutheran” distinction between law and gospel was not only a theological error, but a decidedly pernicious one, in that it seemingly allowed for moral laxity and a devaluing of the appreciation for the positive use of natural law in the life of a Christian.78 Sociologically, the theological debates surrounding the aftermath of WWII brought the topic out of the confines of German-speaking theology and onto the worldwide theological stage, because Barth had initiated a renewed discussion not merely about the distinction between law and gospel, but about a more fundamental disagreement over the role and function of the law itself. While the substance of the debate would remain largely confined to Lutherans, this is only due to the fact that it is among Lutherans that the terms are, historically, placed in a dialectical relationship. For most theological traditions, Barth’s postulation of an ultimate unity, however understood, between law and gospel simply cohered in many ways with the existing predominant theological programs. As will be evident in the following study, theology after the war appropriated Barth’s critique, and in light of all that had transpired in Germany, it gained immediate and sustained traction due to the fact that, despite some significant differences, his concerns resonated with those of many other theologians and exegetes across the theological spectrum working during the second half of the 20th century.79 As we will see, these theologians came from all corners of the academic world to ask how and if “Lutheran theology,” and in particular the emphasis on justification by faith alone, played any part in who saw the distinction between law and gospel as a threat to the moral au78 This distinction, as the argument began to form, when coupled with the doctrine of justification by faith alone, was the soil in which the seeds of the Enligthenment were sown, the indirect (or even direct) cause of the silence of the German church failure during WWII, and the reason for the general decline of the Christian church vulnerable to the anthropomorphic charge levied by Feuerbach and agreed to by Barth. There has been much written on this relationship, but for a discussion and refutation of many of the myths surrounding the relationship between Luther and the rise of National Socialism, see Siemon–Netto, The Fabricated Luther: The Rise and Fall of the Shirer Myth, 174–178. 79 To this critique, other than those mentioned in this study, i.e., Christine Helmer, David Yeago, Robert Jenson, Reinhard Hütter, see also N. T. Wright, What St Paul Really Said (Oxford: Lion, 1997); James D. G. Dunn, The Theology of Paul the Apostle (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1980); and, Campbell, The Deliverance of God. What these theologians all have in common is that they have been major voices in the late 20th century theological world who have, despite many differences, nevertheless agree that any return to a pre–war understanding of “Lutheran theology” as understood as resting on the distinction between law and gospel, is an error.

Karl Barth and “Gospel and Law”

75

thority of the church’s proclamation. What this means is that in the second half of the 20th century, in the aftermath of WWII and its resultant shrinking of the theological and political worlds, the distinction between law and gospel as it related to the doctrine of justification by faith emerged as a worldwide and inter-confessional theological concern in a way similar to the time of the Reformation; however, largely on account of the wide reach of Barth’s theology which had so unified the two words of God – law and gospel – into one unified voice of love, the discussion was largely devoid of any appreciation of the distinction. Consequently, churches and theologians from the Roman Catholics to the Lutherans and in between could and would readdress the historically church-dividing doctrine of justification by faith in a new way and with renewed vigor, which would result in the aforementioned signing of the Joint Declaration in 1999. This convergence, while not wholly attributable to Barth, can be linked to a sharing of his fundamental concern that the distinction between law and gospel had, in some way, provided a theological defense for the moral laxity and political quietism of the German church during the events of the Second World War. While addressing the veracity of this latter critique is beyond the scope of this study, it remains a common refrain throughout the development of subsequent critiques of the “Lutheran” conception of justification, and it is my contention that the dissatisfaction expressed in the former resonated across theological divides and contributed to the almost wholesale rejection of not only the centrality but even the existence of a theological distinction between law and gospel. And the revolution in Barth’s thought with respect to Luther was nothing short of complete. Indeed, as Oswald Bayer notes, “The difference between Barth and Luther, stated dogmatically [thetisch gefaßt], lies in that one insists on making a distinction precisely where the other insists on a unity.”80 In light of this complete reversal, it will be instructive to turn to a brief discussion of Barth’s proposed reordering in order to understand how the postulation of seeing law and gospel either as a unified address or two distinct words changes the entire nature of theological reflection. The following is not intended to be an exhaustive study of Barth’s theological program but, rather, a look at exactly what is at stake in the debate when the distinction between law and gospel is removed.81 Although the sociological reasons for this reversal are many and varied, for our purposes what is interesting is not necessarily Barth’s particular issues with the traditional Reformation ordering but, rather, his overarching critique that the distinction between law and gospel postulates an unwarranted duality in the ways in which God addresses humanity. For Barth, while the distinc80

Bayer, Theologie, 380. See Forde’s chapters, “Karl Barth,” and “Response to Barth,” in The Law Gospel Debate for a closer examination. 81

76

The 20th Century Developments

tion between the two is necessary,82 the unity of the Word of God is “greater than their duality and their struggle.”83 This perceived unity, according to Barth, exposes Luther’s insistence on a distinction as an error,84 because, for Barth: The Law is in the Gospel as the tablets from Sinai were in the ark of the covenant, in such a way that the Gospel is always in the Law as that which is manifest, proclaimed, as that which concerns man in the crib and in swaddling clothes of the commands, of the command and order of God.85

For Barth therefore, the aforementioned distinction between “wraths” in Holl is simply erased because “wrath” is always in the service of love. This theological assertion of God’s unified address in love would become the central unifying theme of Barth’s theological program. When this move is made, 82

See Barth, “Gospel and Law,” 72, where he explains, “The Gospel is not Law, just as the law is not gospel; but becasue the law is in the gospel, from the gospel, and points to the gospel, we must first of all know about the gospel in order to know about the law, and not vice versa.” 83 Ibid., 72. He continues: “The Word of God, when it is addressed to us and when we are allowed to hear it, demonstrates its unity in that it is always grace; i.e., it is free, non– obligatory, undeserved divine goodness, mercy, and condescension. A gospel or a law which we speak to ourselves, by virtue of our own ability and trusting in our own authority and credibility, would, as such, not be God's word; it would not be his gospel and it would not be his law. The very fact that God speaks to us, that, under all circumstances, is, in itself, grace” [italics original]. 84 In George Hunsinger’s “What Karl Barth Learned From Martin Luther,” Lutheran Quarterly 13, no. 2 (1999): 125–155, he shows that Barth's disagreement with Luther did not stem from either antipathy or unfamiliarity; indeed, as Hunsinger has persuasively argued, Barth was deeply indebted to Luther on many theological fronts. However, Hunsinger briefly describes his disagreement over this issue as “a way that was foreign to Luther, [which] integrated the hidden God with the revealed God, making them two different aspects of the one God taken as a whole.” (147) Although one appreciates this work as an attempt to correct “a widespread impression currently exists, mistaken in my opinion, that Barth s assessment of Luther was mostly negative.” (125) Nevertheless, as helpful as this will be to offset unnecessary polemics between proponents of both, given that he cites Luther's influence on Barth as having inspired his “christocentrism” (128), yet he fails to point out Barth's vehement criticism of Luther's Christological formulations, and fails to communicate how central to Barth's theology was his rejection of Lutheran christology, in particular the concepts of the genus maiestaticum and the communicatio idiomatum. For further reading germane to this study, see Manfred H. Vogel, in “The Barth–Feuerbach Confrontation,” The Harvard Theological Review 59, no. 1 (1966): 27– 52, who argues that Barth's antagonism towards Luther and his christology developed throughout his career, so that he eventually laid the blame for Feuerbach's critique that “theology is anthropology” at Luther's feet. See Ludwig Feuerbach. Essence of Christianity. (New York: Prometheus Books, 1989) 30. For a direct discussion of this particular issue, see Gerhard O. Forde, “Karl Barth,” 69–88. 85 Barth, Community, 80 [italics original].

Karl Barth and “Gospel and Law”

77

then there is a sense in which discussions of genuine wrath, much less evil and darkness are necessarily muted. Indeed, as Bayer notes: Since the time of Schleiermacher, and then most especially under the influence of Karl Barth, many have advocated the view that darkness and evil have been rendered impotent ever since Jesus’ death on the cross on Golgotha. In the final analysis, whatever confronts us today as evil is nothing, is mere appearance, since the world has been reconciled to God ontologically already – with particular recourse to 2 Corinthians 5:17-21.86

Similarly, for Barth, any judgment that comes from the law, or any Anfechtung resulting from its accusations, is a result of sinful humans misunderstanding or misusing the law, not something that is intrinsic to the law itself. Of this “misunderstood” law, he writes, “It is the Law, dishonored and emptied by sin’s deception, which, with the power of the wrath of God, nevertheless is and remains his Law. If we serve this Law, then there is no escape from God’s judgment, and in the temptation in which this judgment is manifest, there is no counsel, no comfort, no help.”87 This judgment of God on the sinful misuse of the law, says Barth, does bring about Anfechtung, because “God will not be mocked even in his dishonored and empty Law.”88 So, Barth wants to say that the law is the form of the gospel and the gospel is the content of the law, thereby making them two parts of a unified “Word of God,” while at the same time maintaining that whatever negative effects the law has on human beings are a result not of God’s intention for it, but of their sinful misuse. But what are the ramifications of this line of argumentation? Ebeling’s criticism of Barth on this point will be especially instructive here. Despite his stated objections to the formulation of Barth’s use of “form” and “content,” 89 Ebeling rightly observes that the real question that lies at the heart of whether one views the law and gospel as a unified address or in distinction is to what extent the “law” can be said to be “used” by human beings at all. In his essay entitled “Doctrine of the Triplex Usus Legis,” he writes, “For what does usus legis really mean? Who is the subject of this uti? God as the author of the law? Or man, to whom the law applies? Or the man who preaches the law?”90 In other words, there is in the entire discussion surrounding the law the unspoken question as to who is in fact using the law. In Barth, this question is answered definitively and clearly, namely, that “the 86 Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology, 208. To this point he notes, “Plato had alread argued in a similar fashion, in order to hold fast to language about the unity and goodness of God” (p.208 n41). To the question of Bayer’s appreciation of evil, theologically understood, see Oswald Bayer, “Does Evil Persist?” trans. Christine Helmer Lutheran Quarterly 11, no. 2 (1997): 143–150. 87 Barth, “Gospel and Law,“ 94. 88 Ibid., 92. 89 To this specific point, see Ebeling, “Reflections,” p. 267 n1, where he states, “the formula is, quite apart from its theological intention, unclear from the standpoint of logic.” 90 Ebeling, “Signifigance,” 75.

78

The 20th Century Developments

Gospel as well as the Law – or, in our previous terms, the content and form of the Gospel – have been put into our hands, into the hands of sinners.”91 But given Ebeling’s commitment to a functional view of the law, one that is not defined primarily by its content, but understood, rather, as a “category which sums up the theological interpretation of man’s being as it in fact is,”92 he rejects any sense in which the law is used by anyone other than God for God’s own purposes. There is only “one legitimus usus legis,” he argues, “namely, as paedagogus in Christum. The subject of this usus legis cannot be man.”93 We will further explicate the ramifications of this line of reasoning in Ebeling below, but what this means for the matter at hand is that Barth introduces a new distinction, namely the law “rightly” or “wrongly,” used into his concept of the Word of God that threatens the clarity of the Gospel proclamation. This clarity is threatened, argues Ebeling, because “it is not a matter of replacing a false law by the true, revealed one, but of men’s consciences being freed from the law by the Gospel.”94 This freedom from law as accusation is not experienced in a renewed and right understanding of how it is properly used, but in having the accusation – and its corresponding judgment – silenced by the gospel. This is why even though Ebeling can agree that one comes to a full understanding of the law by reflecting “in light of the Gospel,” it is not the same movement as we see in Barth.95 Where Barth wants to say that the Gospel reveals that the law was gracious all the time,96 Ebeling says that the Gospel reveals just how demanding and accusatory the law has always been. The law can only be rightly understood theologically when it is revealed as that which necessitated Christ’s satisfaction. When it was revealed that Christ was the “end of the law for faith,” only then, argues Ebeling, “the law had presented itself in a way that made it seem impossible to reconcile God and law.”97 In other words, “law” as a theological category is only rightly recognized as the “law of God,” when it is so confessed to have met its end in Christ. Otherwise, “law” as a theological term, argues 91

Barth, “Gospel and Law,” 84. Ebeling, “Signifigance,” 75. 93 Ibid., 75. 94 Ibid., 270. 95 Ibid., 268 n1. He writes, “I am well aware that it is definitely not in the light of a formal concept of the Word of God that Barth seeks to define the unity of gospel and law, but in the light of the gospel – on which point I fully agree with him. I see the difference in the manner in which the statement of the unity of law and gospel is reached in the light of the gospel, and in the sense in which they are one.” 96 See Barth, “Gospel and Law,” 72, where he writes, “Because the law is in the gospel, from the gospel, and points to the gospel, we must first of all know about the gospel in order to know about the law, and not vice versa.” 97 Ebeling, “Reflections,” 270. 92

Karl Barth and “Gospel and Law”

79

Ebeling, is “only that which touches and binds the conscience.”98 However, once the gospel is heard, i.e., once freedom from this bondage has taken place, then the confession of having been rightly judged by the law yet no longer condemned becomes a confession of faith. This is why, argues Forde, that a reversal of the order of law and gospel is not only unadvisable, but finally impossible, because a confession of faith does not say that one has misused the law, but that the law has been right all the time, and yet has come to an end by faith in Christ. Therefore, he explains that the transition is not from misused to rightly used law, but, rather: The transition is from law to gospel by faith, through which one learns the proper use of the law. The law, which man as sinner has in common with all mankind, is not to be rejected or dismissed but remains in use, as that which orders life and is a threat to man as sinner if he ‘loses faith.’ 99

There will be more said about Ebeling and Forde’s treatment of these issues in the concluding chapter, but suffice it to say there exists a great divide between theology along the lines of Barth, one that posits a unity of law and gospel, and a theology that is situated at precisely the point where we have argued the distinction between law and gospel is most acutely in touch with reality, namely, at the place of Anfechtung and the bound conscience. The power of the gospel is not something that must be agreed with, but something that through the act of freeing and loosing from bondage establishes its own authority as that true word of God which silences the law. This discussion of reality brings us back to a final ramification of Barth’s revolution, namely, that when this unity between law and gospel is asserted, then the entire nature of justification changes and, what’s more, the aforementioned relationship between Anfechtung and faith loses its central focus, because however Anfechtung is experienced can be “seen through” by means of theological word play so as to be explained as “love.”100 When Barth makes the statement “that the Law is nothing else than the necessary form of the Gospel, whose content is grace,”101 it has been rightly observed as meaning that, for him, “the law no longer has an accusing function.”102 But to lose this accusing function is to lose touch with just the very point of contact that the law has on the lives of sinful, faithless human beings. As we have argued in our previous chapter on Ebeling, it is the fact that the law exposes and accuses people of just that very thing that they need, i.e., right faith in God, 98

Ibid., 276. Forde, The Law–Gospel Debate, 173. 100 This is the substance of the critique by Elert. See his “Gesetz und Evangelium,” in Zwischen Gnade und Ungnade, 132–169. 101 Barth, “Gospel and Law,” 80. 102 John Hesselink, “Law and Gospel or Gospel and Law? Karl Barth, Martin Luther and John Calvin,” Reformation and Revival Journal 14, no.1 (2005): 142. 99

80

The 20th Century Developments

that necessitates a clear distinction between the two. What’s more, when this move by Barth is made, not only does this render the law impotent with respect to its diagnostic, accusatory function, but it further consigns it to an abstraction, because the state of the world and the persistence of evil render much talk about the reconciliation of God in Christ to the world seemingly out of touch with reality. In Karl Holl we observed that no matter how central Anfechtung is to one’s theological program, it can never be endured as a means to an end; it can never be explained to be in service of an ultimate conception of God’s love, because that would invalidate its true reality as genuine Anfechtung. Additionally, observes Forde, it revives old Docetic tendencies about the nature of Jesus’ own Anfechtung on the cross.103 This is an aspect of Luther’s thought that is central to the proper distinction between law and gospel. As Bayer explains: [It] distinguishes him sharply from the inoffensive view of modern theologians of love, who take the foundational Christian confession that God is love and make love into an epistemological and organizational principle for a dogmatic system that they consider internally consistent and complete. They can accomplish this only by minimizing the enemies that fight against those who pray the Psalms, turning them into paper tigers and making them disappear, as they press their theory to its limits. By contrast, Luther’s life and work is marked through and through agonizing struggle [Anfechtung] with this enemy and by the battle against it.104

Certainly, Holl’s intention was to avoid the pitfalls of the “modern theologians of love”; nevertheless, he ran into a problem when trying to explain the genuine Anfechtung one experiences under the law while maintaining the Christian hope that God is love. Gerhard Forde explains that Holl’s difficulty could have been avoided by simply maintaining the distinction that he himself attempted to make by not seeking God in his “majesty” by means of postulating an ultimate reason for God’s working outside of Christ. Our inability to distinguish between the two types of wrath in God should keep us focused solely on where that wrath – however conceived – is addressed, namely, on the cross. Forde explains, “Leaving open the possibility of a ‘stringent wrath’ better protects Holl’s own assertion that the unity of wrath and love can be held only in faith.”105 However, it is just this relationship to the unity of wrath and love that Barth, by theological tour de force eliminates altogether, but not without dramatic consequences, namely, the aforementioned situation Bayer observes theologians having to assert that, “in the final 103

To this point, see Forde, The Law–Gospel Debate, 195–200. Bayer, Martin Luther's Theology, 4. 105 Forde, The Law–Gospel Debate, 198. This book of Forde's is a detailed examination of Barth's argument and his critics. Not only here, but throughout this entire study, I rely on Forde's qualified appreciation and critique of Barth's theological program. 104

Karl Barth and “Gospel and Law”

81

analysis, whateve confronts us as evil is nothing, is mere appearance, since the world has been reconciled to God ontologically already.”106 While it is true that ultimate Christian hope is that Jesus’ death on the cross on Golgotha signaled the ultimate victory of God over “evil and darkness,” as we have said, to posit that as a matter of theological reflection, or to confess it as an article of faith in the face of Anfechtung are two dramatically different ways of conceiving theology. Here we have come to a point where it is helpful to reintroduce Robert Jenson’s mature theological program, because his is a theology that at one time rejected Barth’s program on these very grounds. For example, in a section of his “Pneumatological Soteriology,” he writes: “If we thus abandon the attempt to know how God’s will is one, how indeed God is one God, faith becomes what it is in Reformation discourse – a desperate conflict within an encompassing hope.”107 And yet, his mature position, as we will see, lacks a similar explicit statement of the conflict nature of faith. As has been noted, for Jenson, as for Barth before him, “Christianity that is not entirely and altogether eschatology has entirely and altogether nothing to do with Christ.”108 What will be shown, however, is that how one appreciates the distinction between law and gospel will determine where one locates the “rupture” of the eschatological divide. If there is an ultimate unity of law and gospel, then the only question is whether that unity happens in eternity past, as in the case of Barth, or in the future, as in the case of Jenson. In other words, the substance of the message as constituting the asserted unity of God’s love is always held in the abstract past or future and, consequently, never allowed to touch the sinner qua sinner in the present as one who is actively being confronted by the law; what is lost, therefore, in these constructions is the notion of an eschatology that brings the end to the person not by assent to a proposition about either what did happened or what will, but by a confession of who that person is, a self-judgement as a sinner in need of justification, in the present. As we will see, Jenson’s career can be understood as ultimately positioning the eschatological hope of the gospel in participation or identification with the “story of Jesus,” and thus observing how a shift from what Holl considered to be the “inexhaustible challenge to theology” – namely, the confessed unity of the law and God in the face of Anfechtung – to a place of secondary importance allowed for the subtle but fundamental shift away from the understanding that the right preaching of law and gospel is the means by 106

Bayer, Martin Luther's Theology, 208. Robert W. Jenson, “Pneumatological Soteriology,” in Bratten et al, Christian Dogmatics, 139. 108 Karl Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, trans. Edwyn Clement Hoskyns. (London: Oxford University Press, 1933), 314. 107

82

The 20th Century Developments

which people are brought to life by faith from death, i.e., soteriology, to an emphasis on some appeal to ecclesiology – broadly understood – which is a major concern of late 20th century theology.109

E. From Barth to Jenson The reworked and published edition of Jenson’s Heidelberg dissertation, entitled Alpha & Omega: A Study in the theology of Karl Barth, can be read as an appreciative yet ultimately critical appraisal of Barth along law and gospel lines in its argument that Barth has transgressed the epistemic limit of what can be said versus what must be confessed. In this book, the lines are clearly drawn for what would become “the battle between time and eternity . . . the hallmark of Jenson’s theology.”110 In this vein, Jenson is entering into notoriously difficult and speculative waters, as his own wrestling with Barth attests,111 the fruit of which, nevertheless, has become the central work of his career. In the final chapter he writes: Can one, as does Karl Barth, depict the long history of God with man as a history comprehended in one great decision of God? Can one, as does Karl Barth, depict the crises and conflicts and victories, the great antinomies of judgment and grace, of wrath and love, of hiddenness and revelation which this history unrolls, as comprehended within a solution given in advance, in pre temporal eternity? The will of God is one and eternal; but is this unity that of a master’s plan where each step is taken “in order” to accomplish the next? Have we given the mystery of God’s rule of human history, in which so much of evil and of God’s wrath appears, its full weight when we say that it is all done “in order” to show mercy? Can we do this without also saying something else, something less satisfactory to our desire to have everything in place? I doubt it.”112

109

Cf., Gerhard O. Forde, “Whatever Happened to God Not preached?” in The Preached God, 34. 110 Gerhard O. Forde, “Robert Jenson's Soteriology,” in Trinity, Time, and Church: A Response to the Theology of Robert W. Jenson, eds. Robert W. Jenson and Colin E Gunton (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2000), 126. Of the many outstanding essays in this book, the (appreciative) critique of Jenson along the lines of Douglas Knight in his essay from the same book “Jenson on Time,” gets closest to the concerns of this present study in that he wants to “go beyond Jenson,” by not completely dissolving the distinction between God as impassable and, in a modified Ptolemaic sense, therefore “in place – his own place – in a more solid sense than we are,” (79). 111 The three questions Jenson proposes to Barth clearly evince this unsettled question concerning his opening (self–described) cliche: “Christianity is an historical religion.” To the questions that this “platitude” raises he writes, “It is the conviction behind this book that the most profound attempt yet proposed to deal with these problems may be derived from the theology of Karl Barth,” in Robert W. Jenson, Alpha and Omega; A Study in the Theology of Karl Barth (New York: Nelson, 1963), 17. 112 Ibid., 151.

From Barth to Jenson

83

Here Jenson is clearly appreciative of Barth but remains, nevertheless, afraid that he is saying more than theology will allow about the ultimate purposes of God. He acknowledges that “Barth’s description of the will of God in Christ is in itself a major event in the history of theology”; nevertheless, he continues, “the relation between this will and God’s rule in the rest of history is rather more complicated and paradoxical than Barth will allow it to be.”113 Indeed, for Jenson, with echoes of Karl Holl, “The confession, ‘this world is the world of the Father of grace,’ is by no means obvious.”114 Human experience is too capricious and history too fraught with evil for the assertion that “the God of this world is the God of love” to be understood outside of the Cross. All of these grand theological assertions about God and his infinite goodness and love, “[stand] under the sign of the ‘nevertheless’ of the Cross. Only there it is true. Otherwise, it is not only unknowable but still untrue.”115 And finally, lest there be any confusion about Jenson’s disagreement, he writes: “The unity of God’s one eternal will is an event which occurred in time at the cross. It is this one drastic sentence which separates us from Barth. Where he puts an ‘in order that,’ there should stand the Cross.”116 What is important at this point is that Jenson has allowed for an epistemic limit to be established at the cross through which no theological speculation will be allowed to pass. This is not to say, as he takes pains to articulate in his wrestling with Bultmann, that the resurrection has no concrete status in his theology, but that appreciating the reality of the human being in the midst of Anfechtung resulting from the lack of clarity about God’s ultimate intentions for the world necessitates a preaching of the gospel that is centered around proclamation. In The Knowledge of Things Hoped For, he echoes this conviction with obvious debts to Bultmann, Ebeling, and Fuchs (the subjects of the book) with respect to this relationship between theology and proclamation. He concludes: 113

Ibid., 152. Ibid., 154. 115 Ibid., 155. 116 Ibid., 165. The echoes of “early Jenson” with Forde on this point are clear. See Gerhard O. Forde, On Being a Theologian of the Cross: Reflections on Luther's Heidelberg Disputation, 1518 (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1997), 49–50, when he writes that “we must listen to Kierkegaard, who insists that the cross – as well as sin, albeit differently – is not universally intelligible. What is universally intelligible is the urge to justify oneself by works or deeds. The denial of that, however, is a ‘stumbling–block’ and an ‘offense’: ‘scandal’ (I Cor. 1:23; Gal. 5:11; Rom. 9:32). But when he makes a principle of the inability to derive or explain it and assigns it to the category of paradox, Kierkegaard misrepresents the fact and the process of believing in the Word of the Cross. Even Barth's attempt in the Church Dogmatics to understand the Word of the Cross as a self– corresponding of God (Selbstentsprechung) – and hence through the notion of analogy – takes the sting from the offense that the cross of Jesus continually gives, even to those who perceive it as both judgment and grace.” 114

84

The 20th Century Developments

Finally, if all historical reality is interpreted, bespoken reality, and if the word in question of Law and Gospel, so that interpretation is interpretation-as-Law or interpretation-asGospel, then historical reality is irreducibly ambiguous and at odds with itself. History is the history of damnation and the history of salvation at once; it its very essence is selfcontradiction. The reconciliation is eschatological; it is always the final judgment of God, who will finally decree what history has meant and been. This judgment of God which will reconcile Law and Gospel, death and life, is now beyond our ability to capture in a formula; it is beyond our imitating other than by the act of repentance,117 by the act of flight from the Law to the Gospel. Yet we may live by that decision, we may repent and flee to the Gospel, for the eschatological decision has already been enacted for us as the unity of death and resurrection in the life of the man Jesus.118

Here, Jenson has located the eschatological point of contact at the moment of proclamation when the preacher “does” the word. “Let us speak the Law as executioners and the Gospel as friends at the cell of the condemned,” he argues.119 His critique of preaching is that it does not take the “word event” seriously enough to actually speak for God, “For God is real for us only as the word-event in which we then and there, as speakers and hearers, are condemned and rescued.”120 Jenson’s theology at this point is clearly “along the lines of Ebeling” in his emphasis on the nature of the “word-event” to faith and how the proper distinction between law and gospel brings judgment and forgiveness through the preacher. How his theology has changed will be instructive for all of the discussion that follows, because where Jenson once emphasized the role of proclamation to kill and make alive, to “condemn and rescue,” he now sees the work of the preacher in a much different light; he, like Barth before him, emphasizes eschatology but moves the locus from the cross to the resurrection, from the son, to the Spirit.121 This is in direct contrast to Forde and Bayer, for whom the cross is the locus of the eschaton of both law and gospel, because it is there that the old life under the law comes to an end and the new life of faith is born by hearing the proclamation of the Gospel;122 for Jenson, it is the resurrection that secures the promise, and the church is the locus for its realization 117 To this in “early Jenson,” see Robert W. Jenson, “Wilhelm Dilthey and a Background Problem of Theology,” Lutheran Quarterly 15, no. 3 (1963): 212–222. 118 Robert W. Jenson, The Knowledge of Things Hoped For; The Sense of Theological Discourse (New York: Oxford University Press, 1969), 233. 119 Ibid., 239. 120 Ibid. 121 See Jenson's chapter “Pneumatological Soteriology,” in Braaten et al., Christian Dogmatics. 122 See Gerhard O. Forde, “Forensic Justification and the Christian Life: Triumph or Tragedy?” in A More Radical Gospel, 134, when he explains, “for Luther, the sinner must die and be made new; the law is not changed. There can be no accommodations or alterations until the law is fulfilled. The sinner as totus peccator is thus attacked by law unto death until the new being arises who actually loves that law, that will of God. Luther

From Barth to Jenson

85

We can observe this transition some 30 years later, in Volume I of his Systematic Theology. In his chapter entitled “Crucifixion,” he writes, “There is, of course, a plain sense in which Jesus’ life does end with his death . . . the project of this present work does, however, remove the Crucifixion from a kind of centrality it has sometimes occupied in theology.”123 In contrast to the attempts of “atonement theorists,” Jenson writes that, “Since we posit no prior logic of reconciliation behind or beyond the historical events in Jerusalem and on Golgotha, we will be unable to demonstrate abstractly that God had to do it this way,” while at the same time he argues that the fact that “the events in Jerusalem and on Golgotha are themselves inner-triune events puts forward a claim to know God that is in fact more daring than Anselm’s, not less.”124 Whereas once Jenson could appreciate this knowledge of the triune

thus knows of only two possibilities vis–a–vis law as an expression of the will of God. It is either an 'enemy' or a friend but never a more or less 'neutral' guide.” 123 Jenson, Systematic Theology Vol. 1, 179. 124 Ibid., 190–191. To this point, he continues: “Why did Jesus have to die?” he asks. “Most directly stated: the Crucifixion is what it cost the Father to be in fact – and not just in somebody's projected theology or ideology – the loving and merciful Father of the human person that in fact exists. It is all very well to say that God is omnipotent Love, but here we sit in sluggish mutiny, stirring only to seize swords and staves.” Jenson, Systematic Theology Vol. 1 the Triune God, 191. Of this concept, in a footnote to this section, Jenson credits Forde by stating that this view of the atonement “is Forde's chief insistence and great insight. The present work is deeply indebted to him at this point” (191n79). Jenson is refering to Forde’s section on the atonement in Bratten et al, Christian Dogmatics. For a positive review of the Dogmatics with particular emphasis on Forde's contribution, see Klaus Schwarzwäller, “The Braaten–Jenson Dogmatics,” Lutheran Quarterly 3, no. 1 (1989): 1–48; for a very critical (albeit appreciative) of Forde and, one assumes, Jenson, by extension, on this very point with respect to the role of the law, see Jack Kilcrease, “The Self–donation of God,” 196, where, with respect to the atonement, this is exactly where he takes issue with Forde. In this work, his fundamental opposition to Forde is in his rejection of vicarious substitution. According to Kilcrease, in Forde's view of the atonement, law and gospel operate thusly: “Christ's activity works law and gospel because in simply forgiving us, he showed us that as old beings we are unbelieving and cannot accept God's graciousness. In killing him, we recognize this and die. By his continued assertion of this word of forgiveness in the resurrection, we are re–created as beings of faith. In the same way, the preacher's word of absolution functions as both law and promise in that it both kills and resurrects. Since the word of absolution presupposes that one is a sinner, it accuses as law while it forgives as gospel. As we have noted, this all comes from Forde's insistence that God's act in Jesus is wholly disruptive love and self– donation, and that is totally discontinuous with what has come before . . . Forde has thus defined his position on law and gospel as one perilously close to that of the early Lutheran heretic Johann Agricola.” For Kilcrease’s critique to obtain, Forde's conception of the law must be necessarily an “existential abstraction” that is suspiciously docetic; however, it will be shown that the value of Forde's non–moralistic conception of the law is that it allows for an even deeper appreciation for the tragic plight of human beings “dead

86

The 20th Century Developments

God as the anchor for faith as “a desperate conflict within an encompassing hope,”125 and the “word-event” as that experience of being “condemned and rescued” by the preacher, he now sees said “word event” as a “rehears[ing of] the canonical story in the context of Scripture’s encompassing narrative . . . The Gospel’s passion narrative is the authentic and entire account of God’s reconciling action and our reconciliation, as events in his life and ours.”126 As is evident in Jenson’s development, when the cross is removed from its centrality and the emphasis is put on the resurrection, then what emerges is a theology that must, necessarily, be primarily concerned with describing and articulating who and what Jesus is rather than preaching what he has done. “This results again in a strong pull away from history,” writes Forde, “as well as the tendency to express the soteriological significance of Jesus in terms of participation in his being rather than in what he does to and for us.127 So it is only consequent that Jenson spends much of his remaining theological effort developing and expounding the doctrine of the Trinity.” As we will see, the doctrine of the Trinity is only one way in which contemporary theologians have attempted to recenter the locus of Christian proclamation away from the cross; however, Jenson’s remains particularly instructive because he is so versed in the tradition that has historically placed great emphasis on Luther’s dictum from his Commentary on the Psalms, namely – crux sola est notstra theologia [The cross alone is our theology]. “There is indeed a cosmic dimension to the rule of the crucified and resurrected One,” writes Forde, “But for the time being that is hidden – the seed growing secretly. It will be manifest

[νεκροὺς] in trespasses and sins” (Eph. 2:1). This is an otherwise very helpful examination of this important theme in Forde's work. 125 Braaten et al., Christian Dogmatics, 139. He continues: “Short of the end, we cannot conceive how Auschwitz can fit into the will of Jesus' Father, but we can conceive – in hope against hope – that triune structure of God's reality by which this unimaginable transformation will be accomplished. An isolated ‘God the Father’ would have no such structure; of this God's goodness, Auschwitz is conclusive refutation.” 126 Jenson, Systematic Theology, 189. 127 Jenson, Systematic Theology, 131. This is not to say that for Forde and Bayer the resurrection has no place. Forde writes as a footnote on the word “cross”: “The word ‘cross’ here and in the entire treatise that follows is, of course, shorthand for the entire narrative of the crucified and risen Jesus. As such it includes the OT preparation (many of the foundational passages for the theology of the cross come from the OT!), the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus, and his exaltation. It is important to include resurrection and exaltation because there is considerable confusion about about their place in a theology of the cross. It is often claimed, for instance, that a theology of glory is a theology of resurrection while a theology of the cross is ‘only’ concerned with crucifixion. Nothing could be further from the truth. As a matter of fact, a theology of the cross is impossible without resurrection. It is impossible to plumb the depths of the crucifixion without the resurrection.” Forde, On Being a Theologian of the Cross, (1n1).

From Barth to Jenson

87

in the end-times, in the eschaton. Now Christ is ‘ruling from the tree.’”128 For Forde and Bayer the cross is the locus of the eschaton of both law and gospel, because it is there that the old life under the law comes to an end and the new life of faith is born by hearing the proclamation of the gospel;129 for Jenson, it is the resurrection that secures the promise, and the church is the locus for its realization.130 Over the past half century, there have been a number of theological and exegetical developments that have contributed to Robert Jenson’s shift from an appreciation of Luther both as an expositor of Paul and “along the lines of Ebeling.” Chief among these is his disillusionment with the seeming vacuity of a proclamation of the law and gospel to create the church, a variation of the same critique levied by Karl Barth before him. As he wrote in his oft quoted essay “How the World Lost its Story:” Throughout modernity, the church has presumed that its mission was directed to persons who already understood themselves as inhabitants of a narratable world. Moreover, since the God of a narratable world is the God of Scripture, the church was also able to presume that the narrative sense people had antecedently tried to make of their lives had somehow to cohere with the particular story, “the gospel,” that the church had to communicate . . . In effect, the church could say to her hearers: “You know that story you think you must be 128

Forde, On Being a Theologian of the Cross, 93. See Bayer, Living by Faith. “The need that lies deeply within each of us to prove our right to exist – not simply to be there, but to gain recognition by what we can afford and accomplish – is put to death. This will to achieve and thus to secure recognition by being active and productive has become part of our nature, our second and evil nature. This nature ‘is very unwilling to die and to suffer, and it is a bitter holy day for nature to cease from its own work and be dead. The reverse side of this death of the old Adam is a supreme springing to life. This is no paradox. When I am nailed down to what I have done and do, and let myself be nailed down by others, I am then profoundly not free. But when I am freed from this lack of freedom, then distance and sense of proportion come with the freedom I am granted, and thus comes the room that is needed for action. Luther can thus extol the supreme vitality that faith brings, the work of God within that slays the old Adam: ‘What a vital, busy, active, and mighty thing is faith, the faith that makes it impossible not to be always doing good works. It never asks whether good works are to be done, but before one asks it has done and still does them.’ The righteousness of faith that God effects and we can only suffer is a supremely active thing, precisely because of the suffering experience of the divine work” (21–22); and Forde, in “Forensic Justification and the Christian Life: Triumph or Tragedy?”A More Radical Gospel, 134, who writes, “For Luther, the sinner must die and be made new; the law is not changed. There can be no accommodations or alterations until the law is fulfilled. The sinner as totus peccator is thus attacked by law unto death until the new being arises who actually loves that law, that will of God. Luther thus knows of only two possibilities vis–a–vis law as an expression of the will of God. It is either an 'enemy' or a friend but never a more or less 'neutral' guide.” 130 To this point, see Mark C. Mattes, “Robert Jenson: Justification in the Theology of the Perfected Church,” in The Role of Justificaiton in Contemporary Theology (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2004), 117–144. 129

88

The 20th Century Developments

living out in the real world? We are here to tell you about its turning point and outcome.” But this is precisely what the postmodern church cannot presume. What then? The obvious answer is that if the church does not find her hearers antecedently inhabiting a narratable world, then the church must herself be that world.131

Although we stand in substantial agreement with this central thesis of Jenson, there exists a dramatically different conception of how the church is constituted and brought forth by preaching. For Jenson, the role of the church has fundamentally switched from proclamation to the world of the word that kills and makes alive to an invitation to the world to participate in the word. Jenson, consequently – borrowing the term Anima Ecclesiastica from then Cardinal Ratzinger – can make the claim that: The anima christiana, the Christian soul, is ‘the anima ecclesiastica, that is, a personal self through whom the integral community of the church expresses itself.’ Therefore discussion of specifically Christian life belongs to the doctrine of the church, not in a separate department of its own.132

In other words, the church has become the arena within which the Christian life must be discussed and understood. Indeed, Jenson can argue that the anthropology he has attempted to erect throughout his two-volume work was nothing more than description and analysis of this anima ecclesiastica.133 Luther, he argues (rightly) emended the traditional metaphysical analogy of becoming what one sees to becoming what one hears; therefore, it follows that “I become ontically righteous as I hear the gospel – which is in itself true for me independently of my righteousness – and in hearing am formed by the righteousness that its narrative displays, that is, God’s own righteousness of love.”134 For Jenson, finally, the doctrine of justification “is the underived event of communal faithfulness in God, as this is set free by the Spirit and is actual in the reality of the incarnate Son. That we are justified means that this history is not only God’s but is made to be ours also.”135 As we have seen, for Jenson the distinction between law and gospel was once descriptive of a reality of human existence lived in the uncertainties of historical existence that had to be clarified by the proclamation of a preacher to “condemn and rescue.” This proclamation was necessarily centered on the cross not for dogmatic reasons, but because it was there where speculation about “God speak”136 ended and concrete proclamation of the historical Jesus 131 Jenson, “How the World Lost Its Story: As Our Changing Culture Struggled to Define Itself, the Theologian Robert W. Jenson Mourned the Missing Narrative of a Universe Gone Postmodern and Mad,” First Things, no. 201 (2010): 31–37. 132 Jenson, Systematic Theology 2, 289. 133 Ibid. 134 Ibid., 295. 135 Ibid., 301. 136 Ibid., 233.

From Barth to Jenson

89

– “who rose” – confronted people as law and gospel. Now, we can observe a theologian who has lost confidence in the power of this proclamation to create a church and who has, as a result, switched the proclamatory emphasis on what God has done for us in Jesus to a vision of what we – as the church – can do by the power of the Spirit, with Jesus for God. In reviewing Robert Jenson’s career it is hard not to have a deep sense of pathos for the fact that over decades of disappointment with the church he was forced to jettison once deeply held convictions. What we must not forget is that as with Karl Barth before him, these theological changes were precipitated by more than intellectual ruminations and, more often than not, are in reaction to dramatic external forces. In Jenson’s case, as will be the case for the rest of our subjects, these dramatic external forces have manifested in what he sees as the almost wholesale inability of “mainline Protestantism” to withstand the pressures of postmodernity in any coherent and courageous way. Notwithstanding his disapointment, by making the move to de-centralize the cross from his theology, Jenson has indicated a subtle but profound shift in his conception of the human person and his or her experience under the law. This shift will become decisive for the critiques that follow, because buried deep (or not so deep!) in each critique of “Luther along the lines of Ebeling” – meaning, for our purposes, theology grounded on the distinction between law and gospel – is a desire to reconfigure the theological understanding of the law so as to achieve by theology or exegesis what can only be by faith, namely, the end of the law. This is an interesting move for Jenson, because he has retained many of the crucial insights of Luther that contributed to his elevation of the distinction between law and gospel, but he has lost a sense of urgency for life lived under the law, even as he recognizes that the “gods” upon which people “hang their hearts,”137 “cannot bear the weight.”138 For Jenson, the weight must now be borne not by faith alone but by incorporation into the visible church as that narrative upon which we can hang our hearts. The tragedy of these attempts, as will be shown, is not in their intent, but in the lack of appreciation for the eschatological discontinuity of life lived under the cross. Bayer calls this life the “duality of faith and unfaith,” and sees the change in orientation from unbelief to faith not as a once-for-all moment, or conceived as a vertical progression but, rather, a lifetime of oscillation between the two, so that through our lifetimes “we realize instead that it is more correctly always still in front of us, so that we believe and thus 137 Theodore G. Tappert, ed., The Book of Concord: The Confessions of the Evangelical Lutheran Church (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1959), 365. From the Large Catechism on the 1st Commandment: “A god is that to which we look for all good and in which we find refuge in every time of need. To have a god is nothing else than to trust and believe him with our whole heart. As I have often said, the trust and faith of the heart alone make both God and an idol.” 138 Jenson, Systematic Theology 2, 69.

90

The 20th Century Developments

‘wait’ for it with eager longing.”139 For Forde, the lack of pathos exhibited in Jenson’s appreciation of life under the cross consists in just this failure to appreciate that the torment produced by this oscillation between faith and unfaith – which describes the life lived under the law – cannot be alleviated or lessened by modifications to the law, but by the clear and unconditional promise of the Gospel alone. In 1976 Jenson believed that the doctrine of justification as understood by Luther was something that could adequately address the ills besetting a contemporary Protestant Christianity that “[had] long since returned to various – bowdlerized – versions of medieval religion, supposing these to be the latest thing,”140 arguing finally that “The gospel tolerates no conditions. It is itself unconditional promise. And when it is rightly spoken, it takes the conditions we put on the value of our life as the very occasions of its promise. This is the first and fundamental Lutheran proposal of dogma. When it is practiced consistently, the Lutheran Reformation has succeeded, whatever else may happen.”141 Some thirty years later, for Jenson, the Lutheran Reformation has not succeeded, because theologies like Luther’s that are built on forensic justification and the distinction between law and gospel, e.g., “Luther interpretation on the lines of Gerhard Ebeling,” leave the church and theology “helpless before the twin temptations of Gnosticism and antinomianism.”142

F. Conclusion In our discussion thus far we can see the basic outline of a critique of contemporary Protestantism that finds fault with a percieved over-emphasis on the doctrine of justification by faith alone that rests upon a distinction between law and gospel. Although Holl inaugurated a return to the Anfechtungserfahurng as the center of Luther’s hermeneutic, it was his lack of appreciation for the eschatological “rupture” between the two ages that remained in the life of a believer which does not allow for a minimization of the reality of God’s wrath in service of his love; the two must be held in tension and can only find resolution by faith. He was right to emphasize that faith “really is the establishment of a relationship and not merely the repair or improvement of an existing one,”143 but his rejection of forensic justification 139

Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology, 107. Gritsch and Jenson, Lutheranism: The Theological Movement and Its Confessional Writings, 36. 141 Ibid., 44 [emphasis added]. Jenson continues: “When it is not practiced, other departures from medieval Christianity represent only sloth and lack of seriousness.” 142 Yeago, “Gnosticism,” 45. 143 Holl, What Did Luther Understand by Religion? 45, [emphasis added]. 140

Conclusion

91

and, subsequently, imputation, meant that his conception of justification remains locked in Forde’s aforementioned “theological system of justice” which rests on what we have seen him term the “Systematic Problem.”144 We can see that no matter how much Holl emphasized Anfechtung, when conceived within such a system and disconnected from a substance metaphysic that allowed for the actual infusion of righteousness, i.e., ontological change, then the only recourse was a moral transformation whereby the human will and God’s were united under, by, and with the law. In Barth, we saw the distinction between God’s wrath and love as distinct concepts completely subsumed under one graceful revelation of love, which is manifested by the fact that God speaks to humans at all. Whereas for Holl, the intersection of demand, justice and God’s love constitutes the “inexhaustible challenge to its theology,”145 for Barth, this challenge is answered by the very fact of the incarnation. However, as early Jenson points out, it is doubtful that this theological assertion, however sophisticated, gives full weight to the enormity of human suffering and tragedy in the world when we say that “all is done ‘in order’ to show mercy.”146 The distinction between law and gospel, he would argue, when combined with the limits of speculative theology, forces proclamation to center on the cross and its promised “justification of the ungodly”147 by faith alone, as “early” Jenson argued so persuasively. For him, the church: Is not purified by “a Puritan discipline but by the continuous encounter between the word of God and the word of men. The distinction between God and the devil becomes visible in this encounter; and God promises in the gospel that he and not the devil will stay in charge of the church. To this extent, the church can never stand still, or identify any of its traditions with the word of God. It will always have to be ‘re-formed’ in the faithful heralding of the Word which promises salvation to ungodly men.148

Yet the inability of this proclaimed message to “hold the center,” not merely in the church’s battle with the prevailing culture,149 but for the ability of the church to maintain the uniqueness of its message,150 has driven him and many others to lay the blame for the ills of the contemporary church at the feet of an over-emphasis on the doctrine of justification by faith alone. This reticence was clearly seen in the diagnosis levied by David Yeago, that an eleva-

144

See note 146 above. Ibid.,17. 146 Jenson, The Knowledge of Things Hoped For, 151. 147 See Romans 4:5 . 148 Jenson, Alpha and Omega, 130. 149 See Jenson, Systematic Theology 2, Chapters 18–21. 150 See Alvin F. Kimel, Speaking the Christian God: The Holy Trinity and the Challenge of Feminism (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans; Gracewing, 1992). Jenson's chapter “The Father, He . . . “ foreshadows his emphasis on the “narrative identity of God.” 145

92

The 20th Century Developments

tion of the distinction between law and gospel left the church open to the twin temptations of “Gnosticism and antinomianism.” The argument for what follows rests on the conviction that the concern to protect the church from these “twin temptations” is the impetus behind a reassessment of the distinction between law and gospel from a variety of heretofore-disparate sections of the theological landscape. It will be shown that the problems thus noted and subsequent rejections of the distinction between law and gospel by Jenson and Yeago are by no means isolated instances, because their mature positions grew organically within a theological climate that was united across many disparate disciplines in its antipathy to theological programs built upon the distinction between law and gospel. In particular, reactions to these “twin temptations” can be understood, broadly speaking, as taking issue with a certain “Lutheran” portrayal of Paul and then, more recently, a “German” portrayal of Luther. Although each is unique with respect to specific content, in general theological methodology they are remarkably similar, because in each one we see the attempt to correct a manifest error by redefining the Gospel – even when appropriated by faith – as a nova Lex, a new law by which people should be conformed, related, infused, motivated, instructed or ordered.151 As has been observed in Jenson and Yeago, the positions taken by modern theologians against the distinction between law and gospel often rest in a deep dissatisfaction with the way in which the distinction has been utilized. Each of these objections constitute an ongoing discussion within an entire subset of theological study; therefore, we will be addressing them not insofar as they stand on their own, but as to how they have positioned themselves against those committed to the primacy of the distinction between law and gospel. In each instance, what will be shown is that the errors they perceive as inherent to the distinction between law and gospel are actually incidental to particular (erroneous) construals. In anticipation of the conclusion, what will be argued is that when the Gospel can be understood as a “new law,” as the agreed upon end for the Christian life, then theological constructions are seen as different means to a common end, differences in specific theological terminology are downplayed, and “the church and its own authority becomes theology’s preoccupation.”152 151

See Steven D. Paulson, “The Augustinian Imperfection: Faith, Christ, and Imputation and Its Role in the Ecumenical Discussion of Justification,” in The Gospel of Justification in Christ, ed. Wayne Stumme (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2006): 124, where he explains that the real question is not whether we are justified by faith, but where faith comes from. “Not from a divine emanation found in the remating righteousness of the person's free will. Not in participation in God's being through the church. Not in freedom as access to the public square. Those are legal version of faith. Faith comes from the preaching of the gospel (Romans 10:17), i.e., precisely not faith's legal meaning.” 152 Ibid., 104.

Conclusion

93

For these types of theologies, when driven by ecumenical rather than dogmatic concerns, writes Mark Mattes: Bondage to sin and consciences bound to law do not seem nearly as relevant as ecclesial solidarity or countercultural uniqueness in the face of Christianity’s apparent marginalization due to secularism and nihilism . . . [on the contrary] a visibly unified Christendom is not nearly as important as delivering God’s gifts of forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation. The former question, noble as it seems, is accountable to the latter.153

In other words, when one abandons the distinction between law and gospel, then he or she has made a theological decision concerning the very nature of not only the church, but of her mission in the world. If the end goal for human existence is generally understood as a greater degree of conformity with Christ, then the discussion about justification by faith alone can be ecumenically fruitful only outside of the bounds of the distinction between law and gospel, because under this construction the law becomes that by which we are guided, cajoled, encouraged, chastised and summarily motivated towards that end. On the other hand, when the distinction is upheld, then the law and gospel can work in relation to each other, but can never be confused.

153

Mattes, The Role of Justification in Contempoarary Theology, 12.

Chapter 5

Luther, Paul, and the Law A. Abusus Non Tollit Usum In this chapter we leave the metacritiques of the distinction between law and gospel as expressed by Yeago, Holl, Barth, and Jenson, and turn to how these critiques have been incorporated into late 20th century theological discussions surrounding the doctrine of justification. In section 5B, entitled “The Psychology of the Lutheran Paul,” what will be shown is that popular misconceptions of the law and gospel as understood as psychological states have contributed to a reaction to said teaching as manifested in the (so-called) “New Perspective on Paul” – which is a reading of Paul that is expressly critical of traditional “Lutheran” interpretations1 – and how those psycholocial concerns are addressed by Wolfhart Pannenberg in his “Eucharistic Spirituality.” The “Lutheran Paul,” as confronted by these two objections may, in fact, be more amenable to Kierkegaard and Heidegger than not, but in associations with philosophers, one has to choose.2 What will become clear in our discussion of the rejection of this “Lutheran Paul,” is a shared dependence on a reading of Ruldolph Bultmann that has to be corrected. In the hands of Stendahl and Sanders in particular, Bultmann takes the blame for the errors of the “introspective” reading of both Luther and Paul. This will be addressed directly and then culminate in a discussion of how Luther’s notable theological construct simul iustus et peccator, has been similarly misread and misinterpreted by these theologians. In the end, it will be shown that these objections all hinge on a misunderstanding of the way in which the experience of Anfechtung is not limited to a psychological state in both Luther and then Ebeling, Bayer, and Forde. 1

The literature on this subject is vast, but two seminal works are James D. G. Dunn, The Theology of Paul the Apostle and N. T. Wright, What St Paul Really Said. See also http://www.thepaulpage.com/ for an ongoing database concerning these issues. 2 See Westphal, “Overcoming Onto–Theology,“in Overcoming, 89–105, with allusions to Whitehead's famous remark that “The safest general characterization of the European philosophical tradition is that it consists of a series of footnotes to Plato.” Whitehead et al., Process and Reality: An Essay in Cosmology (New York: Free Press, 1978), 39. In what follows it is hard to avoid the suspicion that under certain non–Lutheran construals, Western theology could be characterized as a series of footnotes to Aristotle.

Abusus Non Tollit Usum

95

In section 5C we move from the discussions about the “Lutheran Paul” to those objections to the “German Luther.” Fundamental to these objections is the argument that the problem with Luther studies is not that he misread Paul, but that German theologians have misread Luther. These objections to the “German Luther” stem primarily from theologians of the “Finnish Lutheran School,” who argue that Luther research has been unduly influenced by a neo-Kantian rejection of substance metaphysics that has allowed for a devaluing of the ontological ramifications of Luther’s statement from his Galatians commentary: in ipsa fide Christus adest (in faith itself Christ is present). Drawing on this work, we will then observe how American Luther scholar, Christine Helmer and former Lutheran theologian Reinhard Hütter, in particular, are furthering their critiques. Finally, in this section, we will observe how over 30 years ago, then Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger – one of the most articulate and astute observers of Luther’s actual disagreement with the Church in Rome – has seen the heart of the issue concerning law and gospel. Through his discussion in “Luther and the Unity of the Churches,” we will observe how the concepts of faith and love are understood in completely different ways depending upon one’s fundamental allegiance as to whether law and gospel are to be distinguished or united. Finally, at the end of this chapter, at just the point where we are in danger of plunging headlong back into the tumultuous history of the Lutheran and Roman Catholic debate concerning the nature of justification, the complexity of which facilitated the exasperated signing of the Joint Declaration declaring the anathemas no longer binding, we take an extended look at the theological program of Gerhard Ebeling, in particular, as it relates to the notion of eschatology we have already introduced in chapter 2. The additional treatment is necessary at this point, because in juxtaposition to the argument of the Pope, it is the clearest point of distinction between the two ways of conceiving theology and, as such, will benefit from this position. What will be shown is that if we do not appreciate the eschatological dimension of Luther’s appreciation of faith, which rests on the necessary modifier alone, then we will necessarily fail to understand the importance of the distinction between law and gospel and its role in the life of faith. It will be helpful here to explore “Luther along the lines of Ebeling,” with respect to this question, particularly with respect to his appreciation for the radical eschatological dimensions of the dynamic between law, gospel and faith. Throughout the following, we will observe how the distinction between law and gospel is, rightly, seen as protecting a type of dualism within the theology and thought of both Paul and Luther that posits a real dialectic between concepts that can only be unified by faith. Under this dialectic, there is a necessary distinction within the doctrine of justification itself along the lines of the Christian being simul iustus et peccator, that righteousness is imputed rather than infused, that justification is forensic rather than effective

96

Luther, Paul, and the Law

and, finally, that it is by faith alone and not by “faith formed by love.” It is this fundamental objection to an emphasis on “dividing the word of truth” that brings the traditional Reformation themes into question, and critics argue that both the “Lutheran Paul” and the “German Luther” have anachronistically eisegeted these concepts into Reformation theology. In our final chapter, we will address these concepts from the perspective of Ebeling, Bayer and Forde in order to show how the “proper distinction” between law and gospel can obviate the need for a wholesale rejection of the doctrine of justification by faith alone as has been the case with much of 20th century theology by showing how it addresses the perennial concerns of “Gnosticism and antinomianismGn.” This is an exercise to clarify further our fundamental assertion that there are only two theological systems, one that views law and gospel as a unity and one that sees them as distinct.

B. The Psychology of the “Lutheran Paul” The developing critique of the “Lutheran Paul” of the 20th century revolved around the “existential hermeneutic” within which the doctrine of justification had been framed, thanks, in no small way, to the work of Rudolph Bultmann. As Francis Watson recounts, “during the 1970s, a new criterion of theological discourse gradually established itself,”3 in which: The previously dominant portrayal of Paul lost credibility: the Paul of theological existentialism in its Bultmannian form, a Paul read in the light of Luther, Kierkegaard, and Heidegger, the Apostle of a divine Word that lays bare the fundamental determinants of the human condition.4

3

Francis Watson, Paul, Judaism, and the Gentiles: Beyond the New Perspective (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2007), 1–2. He continues, “One now began to ask whether a given theological claim was still ethically responsible ‘after Auschwitz.’ German New Testament scholars might protest that Auschwitz was irrelevant to exegesis, that the issue of ‘Paulus and die Juden’ was a purely historical one, that theological scholarship should proceed calmly on its way as though genocide had not occurred, in living memory and at the heart of European civilization. But such disclaimers were losing their persuasiveness. After Auschwitz, new language and new conceptualities would have to be found.” 4 Ibid., 1. However, the complete rejection of the compatibility of (broadly) Protestant theological concepts and these philosophers is even today contested. See Stanley, Protestant Metaphysics. However, Stanley’s appropriation of the “metaphysical” concerns of “Lutheran” theology are largely influenced by the insights of the Finnish Lutherans and their corresponding talk of a real–ontic bond that is expressly contra Bultmann's Paul. “Our aim, therefore,” writes Stanley in the introduction, “is to contribute to the recovery of a more full bodied account of Luther's understanding of metaphysics. In so doing we will demonstrate the reasons why Luther's critique proved such a vital

The Psychology of the “Lutheran Paul”

97

Of particular importance to the discussion that follows is a view of the conscience that, while reinitiated by Holl’s research into Luther, took on an increasingly psychologized flair that – drawing from the account in Romans 7:14-25 – saw the anguish of the “wretched man” with respect to the distinction between law and gospel not as the “oscillation between the rupture” as in the work of Bayer and Forde, but, rather, as a “division within the self, confining Paul’s wretchedness to psychology.”5 I. The New Perspective on “Introspective Conscience” In 1950, Roland Bainton published Here I Stand: A Life of Martin Luther, which, perhaps more than any other book – in the English speaking world at least – solidified the public perception of Luther as one who found release from his intense and debilitating fear of unworthiness before God by the mercies of the Gospel. Bainton depicted him as one who “was at times severely depressed.” The reason “lay not in any personal frictions but in the malaise of existence intensified by religion. Luther was himself so much a gothic figure that his faith may be called the last great flowering of the religion of the Middle Ages.”6 This popularized version of Luther’s conversion experience mirrors that narrated by Krister Stendahl in 1963, who in a landmark essay entitled “The Apostle Paul and the Introspective Conscience of the West,” opens: In the history of Western Christianity – and hence, to a large extent, in the history of Western culture – the Apostle Paul has been hailed as a hero of the introspective conscience. Here was the man who grappled with the problem “I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want to do is what I do . . .” (Rom. 7:19).7

However, he argues by way of referencing a book by Henry J. Cadbury entitled The Peril of Modernizing Jesus, that:

resource for Barth and Heidegger's own critical engagements with the metaphysics of modernity” (16). 5 Paulson, Lutheran Theology, 189. I am deeply indebted to Paulson for the general structure of the following examination of Stendahl and Pannenberg. 6 Roland Bainton, Here I Stand; A Life of Martin Luther (New York: Abingdon– Cokesbury Press, 1950), 60. Not incidentally, James D. G. Dunn, in an online exchange responding to the criticisms of Carl Trueman (www.crcchico.com/covenant/trueman.html) writes, “In ‘The Justice of God’ essay I draw only on Roland Bainton’s Here I Stand (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1951), which greatly influenced me in my student days.” See: www.thepaulpage.com/a–man–more–sinned–against–than–sinning–a–response–to– carl–trueman/ accessed August 18, 2011. 7 Krister Stendahl, “The Apostle Paul and the Introspective Conscience of the West,” in Paul Among Jews and Gentiles, and Other Essays (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1976), 78.

98

Luther, Paul, and the Law

the Pauline awareness of sin has been interpreted in the light of Luther’s struggle with his conscience. [And] it is exactly at that point that we can discern the most drastic difference between Luther and Paul, between the 16th and the 1st century, and, perhaps, between Eastern and Western Christianity.8

With this essay, Stendhal’s picture of Martin Luther and his introspective struggles – one that cohered with that of Bainton’s depiction and others – became the narrative of the “Lutheran Paul” that would be read through those ills found in an over-appreciation of the centrality of the doctrine of justification by faith and the distinction between law and gospel. Although the argument that justification was the central theological concept for Paul had been under serious dispute since Albert Schweitzer, and William Wrede famously characterized it as a “subsidiary crater,”9 as Stendahl argues, the problem that has befallen contemporary theology is a result of an attempt to explore the inner, introspective life of the Apostle Paul as he writes about his relationship to the law. “It is exactly at this point,” he argues, “that Western interpreters have found the common denominator between Paul and the experience of man, since Paul’s statements about ‘justification by faith’ have been hailed as the answer to the problem which faces the ruthlessly honest man in his practice of introspection.”10 In Stendahl’s assessment, the progenitor of this type of psychologized reading is Martin Luther.11 For Luther to read his inner experience onto the Apostle Paul, argues Stendahl, is anachronistic, because “it was not until Augustine that the Pauline thought about the Law and justification was applied in a consistent and grand style to a more general and timeless human problem.”12 Whereas Augustine and Luther (as a good Augustinian) may have had their own problems, they were not that of the Apostle Paul; he argues: The problem we are trying to isolate could be expressed in hermeneutical terms somewhat like this: The Reformers’ interpretation of Paul rests on an analogism when Pauline statements about Faith and Works, Law and Gospel, Jews and Gentiles are read in the 8

Ibid., 79. Albert Schweitzer, The Mysticism of Paul the Apostle, trans. William Montgomery (New York: H. Holt and Co., 1931), 225. 10 Stendahl, “The Apostle Paul,” 79. Cf., Philipp Bachmann “The New Message in the Teaching of Jesus,” in Foreign Religious Series, ed. R. J. Cooke (New York: Easton & Mains, 1907). In this essay, Bachmann argues that it is at precisely the point of inner subjectivity with respect to God that marked Jesus’s life and work as distinct and unique. “The new with Jesus brought lies therefore in the sphere of the subjective or inner conditionality of humanity” (22). 11 Ibid., 82. He continues, “Luther's inner struggles presuppose the developed system of Penance and Indulgence, and it is significant that his famous 95 theses take their point of departure from the problem of forgiveness of sins as seen within the framework of Penance: ‘When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said: “Repent (poenitentiam agite) . . .” he wanted the whole life of the faithful to be a repentance (or: penance).’” 12 Ibid., 85. 9

The Psychology of the “Lutheran Paul”

99

framework of late medieval piety. The Law, the Torah, with its specific requirements of circumcision and food restrictions becomes a general principle of “legalism” in religious matters. Where Paul was concerned about the possibility for Gentiles to be included in the messianic community, his statements are now read as answers to the quest for assurance about man’s salvation out of a common human predicament.13

In support of our earlier point about the ubiquity of this conception of Luther, Stendhal argues that this interpretative line from Paul directly to Luther is evident not only to “the average student of all the great books in a college course, or the agnostic Westerner in general” but, he argues, “it is also true in serious New Testament exegesis.” At this point in his essay, Stendahl invokes the towering figure of Rudolph Bultmann and his “existential hermeneutic” as that which, although it represents “an even more far-reaching generalization of the original Pauline material than that found in the Reformers,” is nevertheless “achieved in the prolongation of the same line.” This same line, for Stendhal, is drawn on an erroneous presupposition that “man is essentially the same through the ages,” and that this continuity in the human selfconsciousness is the common denominator between the New Testament and any age of human history.”14 What is interesting for us, at this point, is not the details of Stendahl’s offered correction to Bultmann’s perceived problems, but that his stated primary objection to his thought – that “he finds the nucleus of Pauline thought in the problem of ‘boasting,’’ i.e., in man’s need to be utterly convicted in his conscience”15 – is rejected on grounds of the supposed lack of introspection in Paul. He asks, presumably in conflict with Bultmann, about the “robust conscience” evinced by the Apostle Paul that would seem to invalidate an “existential” reading that grounds the human predicament in the experience of an anxious conscience.16 Moving on to the witness of Romans chapter 7, he argues that, even though it reveals that the Apostle Paul is deeply aware of the “precarious situation of man in the world,” there is, nevertheless, “no indication that this awareness is related to a subjective conscience struggle.” At this point, Stendhal has come to the climax of his argument concerning the introspective reading of the Apostle Paul: . . . if our analysis is on the whole correct, it points to a major question in the history of mankind. We should venture to suggest that the West for centuries has wrongly surmised 13

Ibid., 85–86. Ibid., 86–87. 15 Ibid., 87. 16 Ibid., 90. He asks, “What then about Paul's consciousness of sins after his conversion? His letters indicate with great clarity that he did not hold to the view that man was free from sin after baptism. His pastoral admonitions show that he had much patience with the sins and weaknesses of Christians. But does he ever intimate that he is aware of any sins of his own which would trouble his conscience?” 14

100

Luther, Paul, and the Law

that the biblical writers were grappling with problems which no doubt are ours, but which never entered their consciousness.17

For Stendhal, there can be no honest exegesis that returns to an introspective reading of the Apostle Paul that sees in the Gospel that message by which his law-tortured conscience was assuaged. Despite the moniker “New Perspective,” with respect to the role of the law, the general shape of Stendhal’s argument was not new. Indeed, in his magisterial History of Dogma, Adolf von Harnack observed that by the close of the Apostolic age there were four general orientations to the law with respect to this question, which involved different ways of ordering the new community that included both Jews and Gentiles around competing conceptions of how the law was to be understood. The four orientations were: 1. That the Gospel has to do with the people of Israel, and with the Gentile world only on the condition that believers attach themselves to the people of Israel. The punctilious observance of the law is still necessary, and is the condition on which the messianic salvation is bestowed. 2. The Gospel has to do with Jews and Gentiles: the first, as believers in Christ, are under obligation as before to observe the law; the latter are not, but for that reason they cannot on earth fuse into one community with the believing Jews. 3. The Gospel has to do with both Jews and Gentiles; no one is any longer under obligation to observe the law; for the law is abolished, and the salvation, which Christ’s death has procured, is appropriated by faith. The law . . . was intended from the first only for a definite epoch of history. 4. The Gospel has to do with Jews and Gentiles: no one need therefore be under obligation to observe the ceremonial commandments and sacrificial worship, because these commandments themselves are only the wrappings of moral and spiritual commandments which the Gospel has set forth as fulfilled in a more perfect form.18

So Stendahl’s argument falls well within the historically defined argumentative paradigms; however, by questioning the primacy of the soteriological interpretation of the Pauline treatment of law and gospel on both theological and exegetical grounds, he brought the debate outside the confines of German-Lutheranism and into the concerns of a wider theological world. As we will see below, for Stendahl and those who followed him, whatever the exegesis of Paul may be, the idea that he and Luther shared a similar “existential” situation before God was no longer tenable. In his 1976 book Paul among Jews and Gentiles, this is the fact stated with the force of an a priori truth: 17

Ibid., 94–95. Adolf von Harnack, History of Dogma, trans. Neil Buchanan (New York, Dover Publications, 1961), 89–91. These four are, indirectly, echoed and expounded upon in Stephen Westerholm, Perspectives Old and New on Paul: The “Lutheran“Paul and His Critics (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2004), 408–439. 18

The Psychology of the “Lutheran Paul”

101

. . . in the Protestant tradition – and particularly among Lutherans – it is Paul’s Epistle to the Romans which holds a position of honor, supplying patterns of thought that are lifted into the position of overarching and organizing principles for the Pauline material. Paul’s presentation of justification by faith has such a role; to some this serves not only as the key to Pauline thought, but as the criterion for the really true gospel as it is to be found in the whole New Testament, the whole Bible, and the long and varied history of Christian theology. The following chapters will demonstrate how such a doctrine of justification by faith was hammered out by Paul for the very specific and limited purpose of defending the rights of Gentile converts to be full and genuine heirs to the promises of God to Israel.19

In other words, the doctrine of justification by faith can no longer be understood as the articulus stantis et cadentis ecclesiae – the article by which the church stands or falls, because it was never intended to be primarily understood as a soteriological statement but, rather, ecclesiological. That this reformulation has ramifications on the understanding of the law is clear, and we will return to this below; however, for our purposes here, what can be observed is that for Stendahl and those who followed, the priority that “Lutheran” – and other Protestant – exegetes would have on Pauline interpretation with respect to the role of law and gospel on the conscience was no longer tenable. Whereas once the issue in Romans and Galatians, in particular, was seen as addressing a soteriological concern, it is now argued that it was a “very specific and limited purpose” that had very little to do with the distinction between law and gospel. As we will see, elements of Stendahl’s position can be found in all advocates of what would become known as the “New Perspective on Paul” and come to dominate the exegetical world of the 21st century. The extended treatment of Stendahl’s essay lies in the fact that although many of his insights have been expounded upon, extended, and even reversed, the fundamental structure of his objection to the traditional “Lutheran Paul” conception of the role of the law within a theology built upon the centrality of justification by faith remains the thread which unites all subsequent objections. As will be shown below in our discussion of what transpired after Stendhal’s essay, with respect to our previous discussion above, the common denominator among theologians who embrace this “New Perspective” is that they reject any sense in which the law can be understood as that which is defined by its function rather than content; therefore, they all agree that whatever the law “does,” it does not produce such introspective terrors. Over the next 40 years, building upon Stendahl’s assertions, a “new” picture of Paul emerged and, by (necessary) extension, a new view of the doctrine of justification, that can be best summarized by the findings of James D. G. Dunn. In his extensive 2005 essay,”The New Perspective: whence, what and whither?” which traverses the exegetical and theological history of the late 19 Krister Stendahl, “Introduction,” in Paul Among Jews and Gentiles, and Other Essays (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1976), 1–2.

102

Luther, Paul, and the Law

20th century as it pertains to the question of Paul and justificaion, Dunn argues that three of the definitive results of the modern reassessment of Paul concern three errors of the “old perspective.” 1. According to Dunn, the “New Perspective” does “not deny or play down the more fundamental fact that no person can stand before God except by God’s forgiving, justifying grace.” Rather, it “recognize[s] that justification by faith was never simply about individuals as such. Paul’s theology of justification had a social and corporate dimension that was integral to it.”20 Although there were some, he acknowledges, who observed this corporate component, “such protests were swamped by the tremendous influence of Bultmann’s existentialist interpretation of Paul, reinforcing as it did the more traditional, individualistic reading.”21 2. “The inter-relationship has to be maintained between justification by faith and judgment according to works,” argues Dunn. One cannot deny that Paul “made final salvation in some measure dependent on believers living according to the spirit.” 3. “There can surely be no possibility of scholarship in the Christian tradition going back to the old portrayal of Judaism, either now or in the first century, as an arid, sterile and narrowly legalistic religion. Likewise there can surely be no going back to an interpretation of Paul’s doctrine of justification which depends on sharp antitheses between Judaism and Christianity, between law and grace, between obedience and faith, and which both feeds on and perpetuates the shameful tradition of Christian anti-Judaism.22”

That Dunn considers this needed reevaluation beyond discussion can be seen in the preface to his one-volume work, The Theology of Paul the Apostle. In it he states, “A fresh attempt at a full restatement of Paul’s theology is made all the more necessary in the light of what is now usually referred to as ‘the new perspective on Paul.’”23 What is important for our claim, however, is that central to this ongoing “restatement of Paul’s theology” is a necessary recasting of the way law and gospel are understood as both theological and exegetical concepts. For the past 30 years, disagreements over this “New Perspective,” inaugurated by Stendahl, Dunn, et al, have not abated. For example, in 2004, in Perspectives Old and New on Paul: The “Lutheran” Paul and His Critics, Stephen Westerholm, beginning with Augustine, surveys the historical and theological debates surrounding justification. In his research, he shows how the disputes concerning justification revolve almost exclusively around the place and role of the law in the life of the Christian church. In his penultimate chapter entitled “The Law in God’s Scheme,” he argues, “Paul has not made things easy for us, insisting as he does that believers are not ‘under the law’ 20

James D. G. Dunn, “The New Perspective: Whence, What and Whither,” in The New Perspective on Paul: Collected Essays (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2008), 87. 21 James D. G. Dunn and Alan M. Suggate, The Justice of God: A Fresh Look at the Old Doctrine of Justification by Faith (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1994), 190. 22 Dunn, “The New Perspective: Whence, What and Whither,” 87. 23 Dunn, The Theology of Paul the Apostle (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1998), 5.

The Psychology of the “Lutheran Paul”

103

while maintaining that they nonetheless ‘fulfill’ it.” His observations travel the well-worn ground between the fears of antinomianism on one hand and legalism on the other, recognizing that in most interpretative schemes, Paul becomes “a hopeless harmonizer (perhaps in combination with one of the other two epithets) if one attempts to do justice to both, concluding, “you pay your money and you make your choice.”24 His conclusion to this section is particularly instructive to this study and warrants a lengthy quote. He writes: At the end of Part Two I summed up the issue that divides the “Lutheran Paul from his contemporary critics as ‘whether ‘justification by faith, not by works of the law’ means the ‘sinner find God’s approval by grace, through faith, not by anything they do,’ or whether its thrust is that ‘Gentiles are included in the people of God by faith without the bother of becoming Jews.’ As I see things, the critics have rightly defined the occasion that elicited the formulation of Paul’s doctrine and have reminded us of its first-century social and strategic significance; the ‘Lutherans,’ for their part, rightly captured Paul’s rationale and basic point. For those (like Augustine, Luther, Calvin, and Wesley) bent on applying Paul’s words to contemporary situations, it is the point rather than the historical occasion of the formulation that is crucial.”25

For our purposes, the importance of this final insight cannot be overestimated, because, as Westerholm argues, the entire debate surrounding the theological role of the law goes deeper than the occasional aspects of the New Testament itself and towards a more fundamental conception of the very subject of theology itself,26 a conviction that will be shared by Ebeling, Forde and Bayer, namely, that Christian proclamation is that which transverses the “divide [die Spannung] between scientific theology and church proclamation”27 However, it is just this relationship to the text that is denied by proponents of the “New Perspective.” If, as is argued by the “New Perspective,” the question confronting Paul was more concerned with “table fellowship” between Jews and Gentiles than addressing a soteriological concern such as Luther’s “how do I find a gracious God?” then this has implications well beyond exegetical disagreements, because the entire interpretative tradition would then summarily come under criticism. Indeed, Luke Timothy Johnson best sums up the ramifications of 24

Westerholm, Perspectives Old and New on Paul, 409. This is a comprehensive study of the intellectual history of exegetical debates surrounding the ways the law has been interpreted in 20th century Pauline studies. 25 Ibid., 445. One is reminded of a statement made by C.K Barrett in his chapter entitled “Paul and the Introspective Conscience,” in On Paul: Aspects of His Life, Work and Influence in the Early Church (New York: T&T Clark, 2003), n33, where he writes, “No doubt – we are grateful to E. P. Sanders for emphasizing it – the gracious God was there in Judaism; but that is not where Paul found him.” 26 For more on this concept, see Francis Watson, “The Elements of Christian Grammar,” in Paul, Judaism, and the Gentiles: Beyond the New Perspective (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2007). 27 Ebeling, Theologie und Verkündigung, 82.

104

Luther, Paul, and the Law

the “New Perspective” in a short statement in review of the aforementioned book by Westerholm. Albeit acknowledging, “Westerholm provides a fairminded, irenic, and detailed analysis of a disputatious epoch in Pauline scholarship,”28 Johnson’s criticism is as terse as it is incisive: He pays perhaps too little attention to the significance of the recent debate over the meaning of the faith of/in Christ for Paul’s theological argument. And he would have helped readers if he had taken one step further back from the details to point out that the disparate readings of Paul actually arise from distinct theological perspectives. The older reading is soteriological and the newer is ecclesiological.29

Indeed, this is the heart of the exegetical paradigm shift on Paul and the core of the rejection of the law gospel distinction: what once was seen as a soteriological question is now framed in ecclesiological terms. Where soteriology is in question, then the demands of the law and its corresponding terrors, i.e., wrath, are of utmost importance; however, when the main question confronting the nascent Christian church was one of “table fellowship” between Jews and Gentiles, then the law, while still important, takes on an altogether different tone. And while contemporary proponents of the “New Perspective,” like N.T Wright, have been quick to point out that this does not – contrary to the objections of many – ”replace soteriology with ecclesiology,” but rather is more of a both/and position,30 as Timo Laato writes, “For [the ‘New Perspective’s’] Paul, justification means first and foremost participation in Christ, namely fellowship with the Kyrios, not predominantly justification through faith alone.”31 As we will see, this “New Perspective” on the ecclesiological center of Paul’s theology would have far-reaching implications, because it would provide the exegetical and cultural-hermeneutical basis for a theological revision of the “Lutheran” doctrine of justification along the lines of the Finnish Lutherans. Although the intricacies of the exegetical arguments are outside the purview of this study, there are two important results of the “new perspective” research that would have two lasting effects on the nature of not only Luther research but the entire theological reflection on the doctrine of justification. First, the emerging academic consensus was that the soteriological emphasis on the doctrine of justification, one that rested on the strict distinc28 Luke T. Johnson, “Perspectives Old and New on Paul: The ‘Lutheran’ Paul and His Critics,” Theological Studies 67, no. 2 (2006): 456. 29 Ibid. 30 N. T. Wright, Justification: God's Plan and Paul's Vision (London: SPCK, 2009), 111. 31 Timo Laato, “Paul's Anthropological Considerations,” in Carson et al., Justification and Variegated Nomism Volume 2, 343. See also Timo Laato, Paul and Judaism: An Anthropological Approach (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1995), where he argues for a “traditional” reading of the “I” in Romans 7 based upon a distinctive theological anthropology informed by the distinction between law and gospel.

The Psychology of the “Lutheran Paul”

105

tion between law and gospel, was irredeemably flawed because of an over emphasis on the individual at the expense of the corporate. Second, Luther and his theology are still being referenced as the culprit. For example, in his 2009 book on Justification, N.T. Wright, in describing the “old perspective” writes, “The theological equivalent of supposing that the earth goes round the sun is the belief that the whole of Christian truth is all about me and my salvation . . . Writers, from a variety of backgrounds, have assumed, taken it for granted, that the central question of all is, ‘what must I do to be saved?’ or (Luther’s way of putting it),32 ‘How can I find a gracious God,’ or “How can I enter into a right relationship with God?’” These questions, argue Wright, are “the snake’s whisper that actually it is all about us, that ‘my relationship with God’ and ‘my salvation’ is the still point at the center of the universe.”33 That this can be the assumed logical end, by an academic of Wright’s caliber, of Luther’s radically theocentric theology is remarkable given what great pains Luther scholars have taken to avoid just this critique.34 To return, briefly, to Karl Holl as one example, we see him explain that: The community concept is thus an essential part of Luther’s piety, and a part, which he underscored heavily. Always an opponent of selfishness, Luther was especially opposed to the religious selfishness whose only concern is one’s salvation. A true Christian seeks the salvation of others as much as one’s own; according to Romans 9:3, one should even be ready to sacrifice one’s own salvation if others could thereby be saved. Nothing could be further from the truth than to see only the individualist in Luther. One is inclined to say, on the contrary, that precisely because he was so pronounced an individualist who based everything on personal conscience, he was also the principal advocate of the community concept in religion. No one saw more clearly than he the weaknesses and dangers of an 32

It should be noted that this question did not originate with Luther, see Acts 16:30– 31; Mark 10:26. 33 Wright, Justification: God's Plan and Paul's Vision, 9. 34 An example of this can be seen in the introductory chapter to Wright’s, Justification: God's Plan and Paul's Vision, where, characterizing his opponents he writes, “I have read dozens of books and articles in the last few weeks on the topic of justification. Again and again the writers, from a variety of backgrounds, have assumed, taken it for granted, that the central question of all is, ‘What must I do to be saved?’ or (Luther's way of putting it), ‘How can I find a gracious God?’ or, ‘How can I enter into a right relationship with God?’ Now, do not misunderstand me. Hold the angry or fearful reaction. Salvation is hugely important. Of course it is! Knowing God for oneself, as opposed to merely knowing or thinking about him, is at the heart of Christian living, discovering that God is gracious, rather than a distant bureaucrat or a dangerous tyrant, is the good news that constantly surprises and refreshes us. But we are not the center of the universe” [emphasis original] (7). I include this quote because this is the type of either/or that has become associated with the entire debate. It is either ecclesiology or soteriology, but not both. For a good response to Wright's reductionism on this particular point (a reductionism that, perhaps, John Piper shares on the converse) see the 10–part review of N. T. Wright's work by Michael Horton: www.whitehorseinn.org/free–articles/review–of–wright.html.

106

Luther, Paul, and the Law

exclusive individualism. It was he and none other who overcame the individualism of the mystics and of the Renaissance.35

Despite the fact that one can take issue with Holl’s interpretation, theologians faithful to the Bible, not merely Luther, recognized both an individual and corporate dimension to the message of the Gospel well before Stendahl, Sanders, Dunn, and Wright. What lies at the heart of the critique of the “New Perspective,” however is, for lack of a better word, an existential determination that reads the situation of the human condition as expressed by the Apostle Paul as one of “solution to plight,” rather than the more traditional reading of “plight to solution.”36 This is no less an a priori determination as to the psychology of Paul and his contemporaries than is that of those arguing for the “troubled conscience.” Also, in this determination, the proponents of the “New Perspective” are operating from a psychological caricature of Luther that can and should be dismissed. As Mark Seifrid has noted of Stendahl’s aforementioned essay, an insight that can be applied mutatis mutandis to all who operate with this caricature, “despite his entirely legitimate concern to disabuse the Christian of the perversity of introspection, K. Stendahl’s provocative essay is misdirected from the very start.”37 And his is not an isolated example. For instance, in his 2001 book, Paul: A Very Short Introduction, E.P. Sanders offers a now familiar refrain about how Luther’s “emphasis on fictional, imputed righteousness” has been primarily because of its psychological pull on the consciences of modern humans. He explains that it is: Influential because it corresponds to the sense of sinfulness which many people feel, and which is part and parcel of Western concepts of personhood, with their emphasis on individualism and introspection. Luther sought and found relief from guilt. But Luther’s problems were not Paul’s, and we misunderstand him if we see him through Luther’s eyes.38

While this is a great misunderstanding of Paul, argues Sanders, it is nevertheless a proper understanding of Luther. Because, he explains, Luther was one who was: 35

Holl, What Did Luther Understand by Religion? 97. Cf., E. P. Sanders Paul: A Very Short Introduction (Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2001), 45, where he maintains that there are two ways of understanding the Apostle Paul's development of his gospel message: “One is that Paul did not come to Christianity with a pre–formed conception of humanity’s sinful plight, but rather deduced the plight from the solution.” In this construction, it was the appearance of the risen Jesus that created a need for a construction of universal salvation from the appearance of the solution. The other alternative, argues Sanders, is to see Paul as unduly influenced by the surrounding non–Jewish, dualistic religions, a position he rejects. 37 Seifrid, “Romans 7,” 116n13. 38 Sanders, Paul, 58. 36

The Psychology of the “Lutheran Paul”

107

. . . plagued by guilt, read Paul’s passages on ‘righteousness by faith’ as meaning that God reckoned a Christian to be righteous even though he or she was a sinner. Luther understood ‘righteousness’ to be judicial, a declaration of innocence, but also fictional, ascribed to Christians ‘by mere imputation,’ since God was merciful. Luther’s phrase for the Christian condition was not Paul’s ‘blameless’ or ‘without blemish’ (for example, 1 Thess. 5:23), but rather simul justus [sic] et peccator, ‘at the same time righteous and a sinner’: ‘righteous’ in God’s sight, but a ‘sinner’ in everyday experience.39

Here, Sanders opens the critique wider than merely the psychological, because he argues that Luther’s theological conceptions – ones like the simul – were developed not out of sound exegesis, but out of need. In short, Sanders is arguing that the simul is the only explanation for an inconsolable, maudlin Luther who was too preoccupied with his own sins. Like the caricature Wright levied above, this critique by Sanders is not very strong. It is true that the simul can be used as what Forde calls a “council of despair,” but this interpretation only applies if we remain within the progressive structure of human existence as opposed to the eschatological. Forde explains: If one persists in thinking in terms of a process, the simul iustus et peccator will of course turn to poison, perhaps at best a false comfort for lazy sinners. It becomes merely the word that no matter how hard we try, we have to settle for the fact that we will never completely make it because we are, after all, simul iustus et peccator. It becomes a counsel of last resort.40

On the contrary, Luther was not delivered from guilt in an introspective, psychological sense, but, rather, from Anfechtung, an experience of the wrath of God that transcends the turmoil of an overly introspective conscience and is a fear that corresponded to an inability to believe, not simply in the goodness of God in the face of human experience to the contrary, but in the existence of God at all. In some sense, the “New Perspective” is right in exposing the inanity of a completely psychologized view of the terrors of the law; however, in denying any validity to the experience of Anfechtung as constitutive for the life of a believer, its proponents have misunderstood the relationship between the two in Luther’s understanding of Paul. When the law is understood along the lines of Holl, that is, not as driving one to intense feelings of guilt but, rather, exposing one to the very existence of God, then the terror that Luther felt under the law that was subsequently alleviated by the promise of the Gospel takes on more serious connotations. Nevertheless, as long as the distinction between law and gospel is understood, incorrectly, to necessitate a reading of an “anxious conscience” in Paul – a reading that we’ve seen is easily dismissed – then the objections to Luther’s interpretation of him on exegetical and theological grounds will continue to mount.

39 40

Ibid., 57–58. Forde, “Forensic Justification,” More Radical Gospel, 120.

108

Luther, Paul, and the Law

The reactions to a superficial psychologizing of Luther’s “anxious conscience” have allowed for the development of an industry devoted to debunking his supposed “Reformation breakthrough.” When the power of the law is limited to its psychological effect on eliciting moral response to transgressions, then rather than seeing the law as that under which even the “rustling of a leaf”41 can bring terror, it is turned into an easily dismissed appeal to the status quo. While the “New Perspective” was marshalling exegetical objections to this superficial legalism, theologians around the world, operating with a similar construal of the “Lutheran Paul,” were also speaking out against this construal. The following examination of the Wolfhart Pannenberg’s opening lecture of the 1977 Taylor Lectures at Yale Divinity School, entitled “Protestant Piety and Guilt Consciousness,” serves as an illustrative case in point. II. Pannenberg and “Eucharistic Spirituality” From the outset of the Taylor Lectures, Pannenberg seeks to flesh out the “emergence and decay of historic types of piety,” among which, he argues, “is the decay of the pietistic transformation of Protestant piety or, more precisely, the critical dissolution of guilt consciousness.”42 Pannenberg, echoing a refrain from the aforementioned essay “The Apostle Paul and the Introspective Conscience of the West,”43 outlines what he understands to be the contemporary problem: As long as the medieval penitential attitude could be taken for granted, the liberating effect of the Protestant conception of Christian freedom through justification by faith continued to work. Nevertheless, consciousness of personal sinfulness not only provided the historical opportunity for a new formulation of Christian freedom but was also its systematic presupposition. A problem, therefore, was bound to arise when the presupposition lost its self-evident status because of changes in anthropology that would 41 See LW 43:260 “This is God’s manner of waging war, as he did with Pharaoh . . . and as is further shown by the words of Leviticus 26 [:36]: “I will send faintness into their hearts, the sound of a rustling leaf shall put them to flight.” 42 Pannenberg, Christian Spirituality and Sacramental Community (London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 1984), 16. 43 Cf., this statement by Stendhal in Paul Among Jews and Gentiles, and Other Essays, 38–39. “Finally, on a more traditionally theological level, what about the need for a sense of failure under law and sin as the way – the only way, as it is sometimes suggested–to experience the reality of salvation through Christ. What are we to make of it when it is suggested that the chief role of the law is to accuse us – lex semper accusat as they said in the 16th century? Did Paul think the only way to become a good Christian was out of frustration and guilt? It seems to me that Paul was a pretty good Christian. He may not really have been attractive; he was not a sympathetic sort of fellow; he was certainly arrogant. But he was great! And Paul did not go through the valley of sin and guilt; he went from glory to glory. It may be that the axis of sin and guilt is not the only axis on which Christianity revolves.”

The Psychology of the “Lutheran Paul”

109

make divine law seems less threatening and more benevolent. Under these changing conditions perpetuating the law-and-gospel scheme of Protestant piety meant preserving the presupposed penitential mentality through that scheme itself.44

Pannenberg’s argument is that the changing anthropological situation of modern human beings mirrors that of the aforementioned shift from the “Western introspective conscience” to one that was no longer consumed by the terrors of the law in the way that Luther purportedly was. This change, he suggests, meant that more theologians and exegetes would begin formulating “a descriptive theory of human sinfulness [that] cannot be said to provide a paradigm for self-aggression, because it begins with a description of the human condition rather than with moral norms,”45 In other words, while the “Protestants” stayed mired in 16th century concepts, the human anthropological situation had moved on. The problem with those who would insist on retaining the “law-and-gospel scheme,” argues Pannenberg, is that “without resorting to a strategy of inflaming neurotic processes like the terrors of conscience, there is no longer any easy way leading from the law to the gospel.”46 The only way of retaining the centrality of a justification as conceived as deliverance from the law, he argues, is to redefine the law so as to make the entire concept more palatable to modern humans. The key, for our purposes, is his corrective to the concept of imputed righteousness, which secures salvation, he writes: Outside ourselves in Christ (extra nos in Christo) presupposes sinfulness as the intrinsic condition of the believer . . . [they] must turn again and again beyond themselves in their concern for their salvation, and thus continue to relate to themselves as sinners.47

His diagnosis and prescription follows much the same route as the aforementioned exegetes: argue that the soteriological centrality of the doctrine of justification is flawed and replace it with a conception of the church, communally understood. Following this essay, his second address entitled “Eucharistic Piety,” presented some ideas for how this new conception of theology could be conceived. For Pannenberg, this reordering of emphasis returns significance to the church and its nature as a “symbolic entity.” Indeed, he continues, “There is no reason for the existence of the church except to symbolize the future of the divine kingdom that Jesus came to proclaim.”48 Since people no longer suffer under the fear and threat of God’s wrath, the church and her proclamation must adapt to address modern sensibilities. Although Pannenberg’s conception of justification and the “law-and-gospel” scheme has been criticized, 44 45 46 47 48

Pannenberg, Christian Spirituality and Sacramental Community, 24. Ibid., 28. Ibid., 28. Ibid., 29. Ibid., 36.

110

Luther, Paul, and the Law

the expansive resonance that many of his critiques found, like those of Karl Barth before him, pointed to a deep dissatisfaction with the way justification and the relationship between law and gospel had come to be received because the psychological preconditions for Anfechtung in the vein of Luther’s supposed anguished conscience no longer hold in the 21st century world. But is this what Luther meant by Anfechtung? Hardly. That modern theologians have reason to think this is what was being offered by those championing the distinction between law and gospel is not surprising given the prevalence of this type of sentimental, psychologized view of the terrors of the law. In all of these reapprasials, however, the looming figure of Rudolph Bultmann and his “existentialism” plays a significant role in the rejected portrait of the “Lutheran Paul,” and it is to his role and influence we now turn. As has been previously addressed, the importance of Bultmann on the development of the discussion surrounding law and gospel cannot be overestimated.49 While an entire study of his theology is outside the bounds of this study, the way that he appreciates law and gospel as they funciton in Romans 7, as we have seen, is a major area of contention, so it is to that we will briefly turn. As for Bultmann himself, it is acknowledged that some view him as “[a] twentieth century Luther, [who] extend[s] into epistemology the sola fide principle”; others “on his right denounce him as the arch heretic selling out on the gospel, while those to his left accuse him of stubborn traditionalism in not surrendering completely the final importance of Jesus Christ.”50 Both critics and supporters of Bultmann will concede, however, the point Schubert Ogden makes in the introduction to Bultmann’s Existence and Faith, “[he] has the distinction of having identified and shaped most of the questions with which contemporary scholars must wrestle.”51 Notwithstanding areas of significant disagreement with Bultmann that we share with Ebeling, Bayer and Forde, that Bultmann’s theological understanding of faith became synonymous with the tortured and anxious conscience points not only to a misunderstanding of how these concepts operate in the work of Bultmann, but also of how law and gospel are properly distinguished. 52 49

See chapter 2 above. Part of what follows is adapted from my 2007 (unpublished) masters thesis. John D. Koch, “Theological Anthropology and the Hermeneutics of Romans 7” (Master of Divinity Honors Thesis, Trinity Episcopal School for Ministry, 2007), 33–50. 50 Carl H. Pinnock, “Theology and Myth: An Evangelical Response to Demythologizing,” Bibliotheca Sacra 128 (1971): 216. 51 Rudolph Bultmann, Existence and Faith, trans. S. M. Ogden (New York: Meridian Books, 1960), 9. 52 The following section title is an allusion to Carl Trueman, “A Man More Sinned Against Than Sinning? The Portrait of Martin Luther in Contemporary New Testament Scholarship: Some Casual Observations of a Mere Historian,” Tyndale Fellowship (2000): 1.

The Psychology of the “Lutheran Paul”

111

III. Rudolf Bultmann: A Man More Sinned Against than Sinning To begin our brief discussion of Bultmann, it is important to highlight that, for him, there is no place at which the human being is ever disconnected from the concerns of his or her concretized, lived life. For example, with respect to biblical exegesis, he argues that: No exegesis is without presuppositions, inasmuch as the exegete is not a tabula rasa, but on the contrary, approaches the text with specific questions or with a specific way of raising questions and thus has a certain idea of the subject matter with which the text is concerned.53

In other words, argues Bultmann, “Interpretation, therefore, always presupposes a living relationship to the subject which is directly or indirectly expressed in the text. I only understand a text dealing with music if and in so far as I have a relationship to music.”54 Through the law, argues Bultmann, human beings have a relationship with God in that there are conceptions of desire, fear, judgment, want, etc. that presuppose a relationship of divine justice. This is the basis for Bultmann’s existential move; he states: In human existence an existential knowledge about God is alive in the form of the inquiry about ‘happiness,’ ‘salvation,’ the meaning of the world and of history; and in the inquiry into the real nature of each person’s particular ‘being.’ If the right to designate such inquiries as the inquiry about God can be attained only from belief in the manifestation of God, the phenomenon as such is the relation of the matter to the manifestation.55

In other words, when humans inquire into the existence of God as a function of their previous self-inquiry, then religious experience, faith, occurs at the moment when those questions are addressed and the person is forced to make a decision. This last point is crucial to Bultmann’s existential theology, because at its core it is a theology of decision that is centered on these very questions and is very much dependent on the distinction between law and gospel because, as we have seen, the claim of God on the lives and futures of human beings can be experienced as either law or gospel. He explains: The existential encounter with the text can lead to a yes as well as to a no, to confessing faith as well as to express unfaith, because in the text the exegete encounters a claim, i.e., is there offered a self-understanding that he can accept (permit to be given to him) or reject, and therefore is faced with the demand for decision. Even a “no” is “a legitimate one, i.e., is a genuine answer.56

53

Ibid., 248. Ibid. 55 Bultmann, “Problem,” Existence and Faith, 258. 56 Rudolf Bultmann, “Exegesis,” in Essays, Philosophical and Theological trans. S. M. Ogden (New York: Macmillan, 1955), 296. 54

112

Luther, Paul, and the Law

For Bultmann, in a life lived in confrontation with the law, a divine encounter with the Gospel forces a decision either of faith or unbelief that has profound implicaitons for the nature of that “living relationship with the subject,” which is, in this respect, God. Bultmann’s conviction is that becaus people consciously express questions about their existence to “god,” this is proof that “existential knowledge about God exists in some kind of explicit form,” this is proof of the aforementioned “living relationship with the subject.” For example, he argues, “if it is consciously expressed in the question ‘What must I do to be saved?’ (Acts 16:30), then in it some kind of notion of ‘salvation’ is presupposed.” Nevertheless he cautions, “the inquiry directed at the New Testament must be prepared for a correction of the notion it brings with it in hearing what the New Testament has to say.”57 For Bultmann, the universal existential situation of a human being is predicated upon a relationship with God that is explicitly understood through the inquiries into the nature of his or her own life. These questions, when directed to the New Testament, are met with a distinct answer that will “tell him who he, man, is and who God is.”58 These are the anthropological considerations that Bultmann applies to his interpretation of Romans 7, which are, as we will see, much different than those often attributed to him and form a picture of the human predicament under the law that is far more tragic than one suffering from guilty introspection alone. For Bultmann, the central question in this passage is the location of the “split.” It is the psychological interpretation that puts this split within the person conflicted, as if the turmoil of Romans 7 is an internal fight between competing desires. However, as for the man “under the law” in Romans 7, Bultmann is dubious of the claim that this “split” is “really between the affirmation of the law’s demand by the will and its violation in action” because, if true, this would lead to the belief that repentance from the actions resulting from the split between “wanting” and “doing” in this section would be sufficient; for Bultmann, this cannot be the correct interpretation. Were it to be so, it would mean, “the law remains in force and that righteousness through Christ is allotted to him who seriously intends to obey it and, in face of his sins, give evidence of real repentance.”59 In other words, faith would play a very small role in this construal, because the emphasis is simply on acknowledging an inability to act on good will. What this interpretation fails to consider, argues Bultmann, is “the antithesis, ‘faith’ (πίστις) vs. ‘works of the law’ (ἔργων νόµου) [which] goes far

57

Bultmann, “Problem,” Existence and Faith, 258. Ibid., 258. 59 To this point, see Bultmann, “Romans 7 and the Anthropology of Paul,” in Essays, Philosophical and Theological, 148. 58

The Psychology of the “Lutheran Paul”

113

beyond any such view.”60 Pointing out that Paul does not even speak of repentance in this section, he explains that for Paul, repentance has little to do with the acknowledgment of past transgressions. Paul, he says, “nowhere argues against the way of the law with the thought that this way leads to despair, nor does he anywhere praise faith as a way out of a split that is awakened by the conscience.”61 On the contrary, argues Bultmann, Paul’s fundamental argument with the law is that it is misdirected because it leads to the thought that one can procure his or her own righteousness. Paul’s critique of the Jews is not on account of transgressions; rather, “the intention to become righteous before him [is] their real sin, which is merely manifested by transgressions.”62 That the law leads to transgressions is to authenticate its “divine purpose” by exposing human sin. He explains, “‘the knowledge of sin’ that comes through the law (Rom. 3:20) consists in man’s being led by the law into concrete sins that show that he sins because he is a sinner [. . . ] [not that] he first becomes a sinner because he sins.”63 Faith, for Bultmann, is not the turning away from a past riddled with transgressions; rather it is the sacrifice of what was ‘gain’ (Phil. 3:7-9), i.e., what was affirmed by existence under the law. Bultmann argues that the “traditional” interpretation is predicated upon a “subjectivistic anthropology [that] presupposes that the ‘willing’ of which Paul speaks is the willing that is actualized in the individual acts of will of the subject who is lord of his subjectivity; in short, it presupposes that the willing is conscious.”64 This understanding is completely contrary to Pauline anthropology, states Bultmann, “for man is not primarily viewed by Paul as a conscious subject; the propensities of man’s willing and doing which give him his character are not at all the strivings of his subjectivity.”65 Bultmann believes that the fact that Paul refers to the sphere of the human will as either of the “flesh” or the “spirit” indicates that he has the subconscious life in view; 60

Ibid., 149. Ibid., 149 [emphasis added]. On this point, Bultmann seems to be an advocate of the “New Perspective,” and is anticipating their objections. See also his essay, “Christ the End of the Law,” where he states, “Paul is easily confused with Luther, and we overlook the historical situation in which Paul is writing. As for the external burden due to the law, Jewish expositors of the New Testament have very often pointed out to Christian exegetes that they have a false picture of Jewish legalism as an oppressive burden. They rightly say that to anyone who has grown up within the Jewish tradition, and has lived from a child in the family subject to the observance of such practices as the law demands, they are not a burden, but become an accepted matter of use and wont [. . . ],” Bultmann, Existence and Faith, 37–38. 62 Ibid. 63 Ibid., 149–150. 64 Ibid., 150. 65 Ibid. To this point in particular, see Mark Seifrid's “Romans 7: The Voice of the Law” in Chester et al., Perspectives on Our Struggle with Sin, 111–165. 61

114

Luther, Paul, and the Law

furthermore, from the “subjectivistic” anthropological view, the terms “flesh” and “spirit” can only be understood as “powers” or entities to which humans are subservient. None of these are tenable options for Bultmann; rather, he hopes that his interpretation of Romans 7 “will show that these ‘powers’ in truth designate the possibilities of historical existence.”66 Bultmann’s first argument in favor of his understanding is that the “willing” referenced in this section is not a conscious action of the will “any more than – as is clear without any question – are the ‘thinking’ and the ‘mind’ of Rom. 8:5-7, 8:27 and the ‘desiring’ of Gal. 5:17.”67 He believes that this “willing” is a “trans-subjective propensity of human existence” that is both beyond the control of the human and, more often than not, one of which she is completely unaware. Secondly, notes Bultmann, the split in Romans 7:14 is not between the “flesh” and some power that is distinct and set against it; “Rather man is ‘of the flesh’ precisely because he is characterized by the split between willing and doing. In him, in his ‘flesh,’ dwell both things: his willing as well as his doing (vs. 18).” In actuality, argues Bultmann, “Man is the split.”68 This is where Bultmann’s insight is often misinterpreted, because this conception of “man as the split,” and the corresponding Anfechtung, is much less concerned with Paul’s psychological guilt before God and more so with his very existence as sinner. “For Paul,” explains Bultmann, “it goes without saying that to know about one’s authenticity and to be determined by the claim of God are one and the same thing, for it is only as one who is righteous before God that man is what he should and can be.”69 This position before God is the desperate situation of humanity under the law: on account of the fact that humans are met with the total demand of God in the Law, they are both aware of their inauthenticity and at once powerless against the drive to self-authenticate via that which leads only to further inauthenticity, the law. All of our actions are results of the prior driving force of the law in our lives, the law to self-constitution. What this results in, he argues, is that although “what is really willed in all our doing is ‘life’ . . . what comes out of all our doing is ‘death.’”70 This brief look at the theology of Bultmann with respect to the struggle depicted in Romans 7 illuminates the fact that those who have psychologized the experience of this conflict have missed the importance, for Bultmann, of the simultaneity of faith and unbelief in the same person. While his demythologizing program has been criticized by Ebeling, Forde and extensively by 66 67 68 69 70

Bultmann, “Romans 7,” Essays, Philosophical and Theological, 150. Ibid., 151. Ibid., 151. Ibid., 152. Ibid., 152.

The Psychology of the “Lutheran Paul”

115

Bayer, his appreciation for the lived-in historicity of faith or unbelief, the confrontation extra nos by the world, is one that is very much in line with an eschatological dialectic of the life or death nature of the Gospel which necessitates Luther’s famous construction of the Christian as simul iustus et peccator in very different ways than those dismissed by Sanders, Dunn, and Stendahl. IV. Simul Iustus Et Peccator To Luther’s famous dictum, that the Christian believer is simul iustus et peccator – simultaneously completely sinful and (by Faith) completely justified – Forde explains: The simul iustus et peccator is not a conclusion drawn from failure under the law, but rather a confession flowing precisely from the unconditional nature of the divine promise, the divine act of justification . . . For Luther, the deduction of the simul follows quite logically and has nothing particularly to do with the much celebrated “anxious conscience.” Since God has to impute righteousness, we must be sinners.71

He explains further, “The introspective conscience does not make us sinners. That is only the ‘prudence of the flesh’ speaking which experiences its traumas on its way from vice to virtue. The utterly fantastic grace of the divine imputation exposes us for what we are; it blasts both our vices and our virtues.”72 In other words, when Bultmann’s anthropological considerations are not psychologized but, rather, maintained along an eschatological dialectic between the life of faith and the death of unbelief, then both the tragedy and energy of the Christian life are revealed. The tragedy is a result of the enduring presence of unbelief, i.e., sin, in the regenerate this side of the eschaton; however, the total absolution of this sin – even during its persistence – by faith allows for the creation of a new life that lives solely on the merits of the received words of the gospel. The “Lutheran Paul” against which the “New Perspective” and Pannenberg are arguing may have existed in the popular imagination, but, as we have shown, there is no reason to affirm this popular picture of the guilt-ridden Luther, not merely because this does not mesh with scholarly pictures of him, but more importantly, because it takes away from the genuine seriousness of the soteriological importance of the distinction between law and gospel. When the law is reduced to its moral connotations, then it is easily rejected by appeals to disparity in mores across time and between cultures. In this respect, the exegetes of the “New Perspective” and theologians such as Pannenberg are right to reject such an insipid conception of the “curse of the law”; however, when the law is appreciated in its total condemnatory nature 71 72

Forde, Justification by Faith: A Matter of Death and Life, 30. Ibid., 38.

116

Luther, Paul, and the Law

against all unrighteousness, and righteousness only comes by faith alone, then all of life that is not of faith can be understood, in some way, as under the law, i.e., under wrath. That people are unaware of their predicament is no less a function of wrath; rather, this can be understood as the very existence of wrath, i.e., Romans 1, whereby God “gave people up.” This situation of having been given up can only be addressed by the proclamation of the law and gospel that brings awareness of sin, the root of which is unbelief. The manifestations of unbelief (sin) are moral transgressions, but these are not in and of themselves the basis for God’s wrath but rather, the symptoms. We will return to a positive construction of Luther’s Anfechtungserfahurng that does not devolve into a maudlin sentimentality in our final chapter; however, there have been further ramifications to this type of theologizing. This dissatisfaction, when combined with exegetical insights into 2nd Temple Judaism, the fallout after the Second World War, and increasing pressures to provide a united Christian front, meant that people who insisted on maintaining a strict distinction between law and gospel found themselves under increasing pressure to defend the “Lutheran Paul” from his critics. For nonLutherans, this was a fairly simple matter, but among Lutherans there developed another way of expressing their dissatisfaction, by not merely appropriating the insights of the “New Perspective,” but laying the onus at the feet of what they consider to be an overly “German Luther,” one who reflects more of German theology and philosophy than authentic Luther. Thus we can observe the rise of a “new perspective on Luther” that grew out of – or at least developed from – shared dissatisfactions, as did the “new perspective on Paul”; namely, that a strict emphasis on forensic justification by faith alone with its corresponding emphases on a distinction between law and gospel and imputation leads to, as always, the fear of Gnosticism and antinomianism.73

73

Although this will be treated in more detail below, see Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen, “Salvation As Justification and Theosis: The Contribution of the New Finnish Luther Interpretation to Our Ecumenical Future,” Dialog: A Journal of Theology 45, no. 1 (2006): 74, where he writes, “A fourth major task for ecumenical Luther scholarship is to critically dialogue with and glean from the developments in New Testament studies on justification, law, Judaism of the time, and related issues as advanced by the New Interpretation of Paul under the tutelage of Paul Sanders, James D. G. Dunn, and a host of others (as well as their critics). My hunch is that much of what the Mannermaa School is saying is in line with the new understanding of Paul” [emphasis added]. His hunch is correct.

The “German Luther(an)” Discussion

117

C. The “German Luther(an)” Discussion I. Faith, Ontology, and the Trinity Although criticisms of the “Lutheran Paul” began with exegetes looking to readdress the historic situation of the New Testament centered on the reappraisal of the communal or ecclesiological aspects of Paul’s articulation of justification by faith, during a similar timeframe a reappraisal of the “German Luther” began apace in Finland under the supervision of Professor Tuomo Mannermaa. He and his students inaugurated what is now known as the “Finnish Lutheran” school of interpretation, one that has contributed to the broadening ecumenical stature of Luther, and while the specifics of their complaint against Luther scholarship are different than those of the “New Perspective,” they are interrelated by a shared criticism that the question of justification has become too individualized. However, in contrast to proponents of the “New Perspective,” Luther’s influence is not the problem, they argue, but a misinterpretation of him and his theology. As Kirsi Stjerna observes in the forward to Mannermaa’s Christ Present In Faith: Luther’s View of Justification: Mannermaa’s perspective contributes significantly to the ecumenical dialogues between Lutherans and other denominations by introducing a Luther whose theology has many more bridges with the older Christian theologies and spiritualties than the previously predominant Luther interpretation. Mannermaa in a sense puts Luther’s own texts against the interpretative history and finds that the “real Luther” is much more powerful than the one there presented.74

Although in sympathy with the exegetical findings of the “new perspective,”75 the critiques of the “Finnish Lutherans” are directed towards an aberrant “German” reading of Luther that has neglected important aspects of his thinking on justification. Whereas the “New Perspective’s” critique centered on the psychological aspects of the way that Luther had been read into Paul, the Finnish Lutherans are more concerned with the lack of ontological significance with which the “German Lutherans” have invested the doctrine of justification and, in particular, the distinction between law and gospel. Although we have already addressed some of the critiques of the neo-Kantian 74

Tuomo Mannermaa and Kirsi Irmeli Stjerna, Christ Present in Faith: Luther's View of Justification (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2005), xv. 75 See Risto Saarinen, “The Pauline Luther and the Law: Lutheran Theology Reengages the Study of Paul,” Pro Ecclesia 15, no. 1 (2006): 86, where he argues that exegetical research on Romans 7 “brings Luther's theology significantly closer to the ‘new perspective’ than many exegetes and Luther interpreters have assumed. Of course, this need not mean anything with regard to the historical study of Paul. Categories like Lutheran Paul’ and ‘new perspective’ retain their heuristic value irrespective of their historical accuracy.”

118

Luther, Paul, and the Law

Luther in our treatment of Holl, it is necessary to revisit some of the specific argumentation here because it will have bearing on the concluding discussion of what Bayer calls “the ontological significance of faith.”76 In a 2009 lecture given at Waterloo Lutheran Seminary entitled “The Liberal Luther and Modern Theology,” Christine Helmer makes the claim that the Luther being currently revised is one who: Was predominantly, and you’ll all agree with me, word oriented and constructed by the dualities of law/gospel, hidden and revealed god and the theology of the cross . . . So those are not really authentic Luther, I’m letting you know now, rather they are the construction of a neo-Kantian philosophical framework.77

For Helmer, illustrative – if not seemingly constitutive – of this neo-Kantian influence on Luther research is the emphasis on the “binary opposites” in his theology. She argues that this Kantian reconstruction of Luther’s theology is most clearly illustrated in the maintenance of a systematic and epistemic dualism in the thinking of some Luther scholars that establish these dialectics at the center of their interpretation. She continues: If you look at the development of the reconstruction of Luther’s theology from Harnack to Bayer . . . you will notice a few consistencies. And one is that the dualism is used to structure theology . . . So Luther’s theology was structured from the beginning on the basis of a dualism between knowing God outside of Christ and knowing God in Christ.78

Whereas Harnack operated within a dualistic ontology, she argues, the paradigm in the 20th century is now an “explicit[ly] epistemological one.”79 As will be shown, Helmer’s critique of perceived neo-Kantianism in Luther research is levied at a particular conception of justification by faith that, like we have observed in Jenson, places the cross at the epistemic center of Luther’s theology. In her book The Trinity and Martin Luther: A Study on the Relationship Between Genre, Language and the Trinity in Luther’s Works (1523– 1546), she explains that: Within the neo-Kantian paradigm, the connection emerged between faith and Christ on the cross. Both the metaphysics of effect that characterized earlier Luther studies, and the existentially construed relational ontology that forms much recent scholarship, establish a correlation between the word of Christ on the cross and this effect in faith.80

76 Oswald Bayer, “The Doctrine of Justification and Ontology,” trans. Christine Helmer, Neue Zeitschrift für Systematicsche Theologie und Religionsphilosophie 43, no.1 (2001): 44. 77 Christine Helmer, “The Liberal Luther and Modern Theology” (Faith in Public Lecture Series 2009–2010 at Waterloo Lutheran Seminary Nov. 12, 2009): 9:15–10:00. 78 Ibid., 30:00–35:00. 79 Ibid. 80 Helmer, The Trinity and Martin Luther, 16.

The “German Luther(an)” Discussion

119

For Helmer, it is the pro me emphasis of the German Luther researchers that has unduly prioritized the subjective reception of the work of Christ at the expense of more central theological concerns.81 What is interesting about her critique is how similar it is to that of Pope Benedict XIV in his treatment of Luther’s break with Rome. For both Helmer and the Pope, the pro me is indefensibly individualistic and unduly personalistic in light of the cosmic scope of God’s actions in Christ; however, as will be argued below, this judgment rests on a fundamental misunderstanding of what will be termed the “ontology of the word of God.” For Helmer, it is an error to view the cross as the epistemic center of theological speculation, and any correction of Luther studies, not to mention modern theology, must begin with a transcending of any binary dualisms, particularly any emphasis on justification by faith alone and the distinction between law and gospel as a structuring principle that goes beyond what Nils Gregersen calls “a first-order level of divine address and human response.”82 Rather, Helmer, whose The Trinity and Martin Luther is as influential among detractors of the “German Luther” as Mannermaa’s work, argues that this sharp distinction introduces a “narrative split” into the person of God that does harm to the doctrine of the Trinity. Hers is the most articulate and helpful voice to present the distinct objections to an epistemic emphasis on the distinction between law and gospel, because she clearly understands, yet rejects, the theological programs of said “Germans;” and in particular, she is extremely conversant with the work of Oswald Bayer. In the outset of one section of her critique of Bayer, one for whom she clearly has deep respect, she states, “when the law/gospel paradigm is privileged, the doctrine or the 81

For example, see ibid., 25, where she argues, “A Protestant leap over the medieval scholastic and nominalist schools attempted to ground Luther's commitment to orthodox dogma in the early church, an endeavor that, on second glance, exposed the situatedness of the interpretation in the neo–Kantian paradigm. By taking a closer look at the privileging of the pro me novelty, the common philosophical presupposition coloring the theological correlation between faith and the theology of the cross was shown. The theological epistemological account of the Christ–faith correlation led to a Trinitarian understanding that privileged the salvation–historical economy of the Trinity. Trinitarian differentiation at the economic level, as seen as an implication of the Reformation discovery, betrayed an aversion to the immanent Trinity as a significant moment in Luther’s Trinitarian understanding. The immanent Trinity was regarded to be epistemically inaccessible, soteriologically insignificant and forbidden to speculation by reason. The question emerged regarding the distinction between the immanent and economic Trinity that scholars have applied to Luther's Trinitarian theology. In the next section, I will show how the approach of this study will be used to gain access to the subject matter in a way challenging the conclusions drawn by scholars, and in a way conceiving the Trinity at two locations of the inner and outer–Trinity.” 82 N. Gregersen, “Ten Theses on the Future of Lutheran Theology: Charisms, Contexts, and Challenges,” Dialog 41, no. 4 (2002): 267.

120

Luther, Paul, and the Law

Trinity is moved to the margin.”83 With this statement, she has in mind the aforementioned “rupture” so central to Bayer’s rejection of Barth and dogmatic theologies that attempt to begin with a doctrine of the unity of God, i.e., the Trinity, which is a theological move that Bayer characterizes as “one of the grandiose blunders of the more recent history of both philosophy and theology.”84 Nevertheless, Helmer maintains her critique of Bayer, writing: Bayer’s study of Luther’s hymn is a representative example of how the law/gospel relation, when it is applied to the lack of mediation in the doctrine of God, results in a narrative split. The narrative breakdown tends to eclipse a Trinitarian understanding of the divine mercy by driving it apart from the “other” side of God’s wrath.85

In other words, Helmer’s critique of Bayer is along similar lines as Barth’s to Holl and Elert in that the “anthropological view resulting from the rigid application of the law/gospel relation is displaced by the Trinitarian-theological privileging of the divine mercy.”86 To which, Bayer would respond that this type of dogmatic “study that begins with the teaching about the Trinity ignores or minimizes the problem of unfaith.”87 On account of this familiarity, Helmer’s is an instructive critique, because she does not ignore that the roots of the tradition of an emphasis on the distinction between law and gospel stem from Luther; however, She thinks that it is in need of correction. She writes: “The difficulty with assigning the law/gospel distinction to Luther’s Reformation breakthrough does not have to do with a scholarly fiction. Luther himself asserts the subject matter of theology to be the sinner and the justifying God.” She nevertheless argues that: The modern problem has to do with the interpretation that views the gospel from the perspective skewed by a theological anthropology. Yeago has pointed out that the distinction between law and gospel, particularly in the tradition stemming from Elert, has been expanded to make an ontology of human existence the interpretive key to Luther’s thought. Yeago’s challenge strikes to the heart a number of Luther scholars who underline the law so much that they undermine the gospel . . .88

By her own admission, Helmer’s appreciation for and subsequent rejection of this perceived neo-Kantian bias in German theological studies follows the research of the aforementioned Finnish Lutherforschern working under the direction and supervision of Tuomo Mannermaa and resting upon the seminal dissertation of Risto Saarinen entitled Gottes Wirken auf Uns. This so-called, “Mannermaa School” observes Robert Jenson:

83 84 85 86 87 88

Helmer, The Trinity and Martin Luther, 147. Bayer, Martin Luther's Theology: A Contemporary Interpretation, 337. Helmer, The Trinity and Martin Luther, 149. Ibid., 272. Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology, 335. Helmer, The Trinity and Martin Luther, 147.

The “German Luther(an)” Discussion

121

. . . is revising a century of Luther interpretation dominated by German Protestant theologians, who notoriously read Luther under the spell of neo-Kantian presuppositions. This is true of a long line of German Luther scholarship from Albrecht Ritschl to Gerhard Ebeling. On this basis one should ignore all ontology found in Luther; faith is purely an act of the will with no ontological implications. Faith as volitional obedience rather than as ontological participation is all that a neo-Kantianized Luther could allow. 89

The core of this critique lies in a rejection of Kantian transcendentalism, the notion that a “thing in itself” (ding an sich) cannot be known, but only its effects.90 This transcendentalism, which rests on a dialectic between the nou-

89 Carl Braaten and Robert W. Jenson, Union with Christ: The New Finnish Interpretation of Luther (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1998), viii–xi. For opponents of the “German Luther,” the neo–Kantian infection of Luther interpretation has spread throughout his entire theology so as to question its very presuppositions, namely, whether it is appropriate to even speak of a “Reformation breakthrough” in Luther's thought by which he changed dramatically from a previously held position to another. So, in Bielfeldt et al., The Substance of the Faith: Luther's Doctrinal Theology for Today (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2008), 7–9, we can have Dennis Bielfeldt write, “In spite of nuanced and sometimes quite fruitful applications of the ‘evangelical breakthrough’ approach to understanding Luther – for example, the subtle and engaging work of Oswald Bayer – we find that the approach itself tends to be ahistorical and theologically a blind alley.” And, similarly, Christine Helmer in The Trinity and Martin Luther, 7–9, writes, “Scholarly positions have been caught between presenting Luther as the champion of the new, whether theologically, as the proponent of evangelical freedom, or philosophically, in the neo– Kantian shape of a new metaphysical and epistemological paradigm. The old Luther as the proponent of the Christological and Trinitarian dogmas, is viewed in less favorable terms. I suggest that the determination of the intersection between ‘new’ and ‘old’ is related to a neo–Kantian philosophical conceptuality. Formed by neo–Kantian presuppositions, Luther scholarship is characterized by a privileging of Luther's ‘new’ evangelical principle that erodes the significance of the ‘old’ Trinitarian dogma in his theology . . . From Ritchl's focus on the concept of reconciliation to Bayer's study of the ‘promissio’ scholars have shown Luther to champion the ‘new’ justification by faith in Christ, against what Oberman has called the Pelagianism of Biel's late medieval or nominalist soteriology.” 90 To this point, see F. LeRon Shults, The Postfoundationalist Task of Theology: Wolfhart Pannenberg and the New Theological Rationality (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1999), 35, where he explains that, “In the preface to the second edition of Critique of Pure Reason (1787), Immanuel Kant said that his goal was to limit knowledge to make room for faith. The purpose of his distinction between phenomena and noumena was to set the boundary of knowing. Although we cannot know an object as a thing in itself, we may think an object as a thing in itself. ‘Knowing,’ in Kant's view, means that one has proved the possibility of an object, either because it has actually been experienced sensibly, or because one has shown (through the transcendental method of pure theoretical reason) that it is a priori necessary. But Kant insists that we can ‘think’ whatever we please, as long as it is not contradictory. Of course merely thinking a thing is insufficient to show its real possibility; to tackle this latter task, Kant proposes that we identify sources in the use of practical reason. Pure practical reason provides us with the ‘practical postulates’ of freedom, God, and immortality. The main point for our current analysis is to note that

122

Luther, Paul, and the Law

menal and the phenomenal, “covertly or overtly drives all modern theology,” argues Paul Hinlicky, and: The value of the dialectic does not lie in any cognitive insight historical discourses about God might lend, who, as beyond existence, is also beyond knowledge . . . God is inexpressible; any claim to identify the noumenal God with a phenomenal reality that would declare God is ‘idolatrous.’91

And here we see how modern Luther research is representative of a certain approach to modern theology in general, namely that the errors perpetuated by baptized Kantianism have to be addressed and corrected by a return to some sort of objective theological grounding away from Kantian subjectivism.92 For these theologians, what is posited by faith alone, i.e., without metaphysical (however conceived) grounding, is all subjective and not sufficiently grounded in truth. What is needed, it is argued, is a corrective to Luther as he has been received and, as such, modern theology as a whole. This corrective, it is now commonly argued, has come in the presentation of the “Finnish Lutherans” with their conception of a “real-ontic” view of the indwelling of Christ in the believer. In the preface to his Christ Present in Faith: Luther’s View of Justification, Tuomo Mannermaa outlines the basic argument that has come to represent the “Finnish School.” He argues that Lutheran theology has been since the Formula of Concord understood: In a one-sidedly forensic manner, that is, only as a reception of the forgiveness that is ‘imputed’ to Christians for the sake of the obedience and merit of Christ. The inhabitatio Dei is considered a consequence of this “righteousness of faith,” i.e., the forgiveness of sins. In the theology of Luther, however, the relation between justification and the divine indwelling in the believer is defined differently. 93

For the Finnish Lutherans, the root of this erroneous “German Lutheran” theology that can be traced back to the critical neo-Kantian metaphysics is a direct result of the influence of Herman Lotze. Saarinen’s thesis argues that these theologians – Albrecht Ritschl, Wilhelm Herrmann, Karl Holl, Erich for Kant all knowledge had to be founded either on the a priori forms of perception and understanding, or on the postulates of practical reason.” 91 Hinlicky, The Substance of the Faith, 82. 92 Although a full treatment of Kantian philosophy is outside the bounds of this paper, for an appreciative look see Westphal, “Overcoming Onto–Theology,” in Overcoming Onto–Theology, 8, where he writes, “I must confess, with all the contrition I can muster up (which, I confess, is not much), that I get too much fun out of reminding my Thomist and Calvinist friends of these themes in their masters and suggesting that the latter are Kantian anti–realists and that our knowledge of God is not an instance of the adequatio rei et intellectus.” 93 Tuomo Mannermaa and Kirsi Stjerna, Christ Present in Faith: Luther's View of Justification, (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2005), 4.

The “German Luther(an)” Discussion

123

Vogelsang, Reinhold Seeberg, Erich Seeberg, Karl Barth and Ernst Wolf – were Kantian in their ontology because they rejected a traditional “substance ontology” in favor of a “relational ontology.”94 Mannermaa explains: The initial assumption of Lotze’s ontology is that the everyday conception of reality, according to which things first must exist in themselves in order subsequently to be able to stand in relationship to other things, is false. There is no being in itself. The only sense of “being” is “standing in relationship.” The world is not properly to be conceived as a space filled with things that, with their own being already assured, then take up relationship to other beings. Rather, standing in a mutually affecting relationship to other beings is the primary sense of what it means for a thing to be. Being is what happens in reciprocal affectings.”95

Objecting to what he argues is an erroneous separation within Luther’s thinking between the person and work of Christ, Mannermaa argues: Instead, Christ himself, both his person and his work, is the Christian righteousness, that is, the ‘righteousness of faith.’ Christ and therefore also his entire person and work are really and truly present in the faith itself (in ipsa fide Christus adest). The favor (favor) of God (i.e., the forgiveness of sins and the removal of God’s wrath) and his “gift” (donum; God himself, present in the fullness of his essence) unite in the person of Christ . . . According to Luther, Christ (both his person and his work), who is present in faith, is identical with the righteousness of faith. 96

For Mannermaa, the “Christ present in faith” motif is much more prevalent in Luther than many theologians, particularly the Germans, have allowed. “Therefore,” he argues, “it is easier to find a point of contact with the patristic concept of divinization in Luther’s theology than in later Lutheran theologies. The idea of the divine life in Christ that is present in faith lies at the very center of the theology of the Reformer.”97 While the debate over exactly what this constitutes continues apace,98 the failure to articulate a convincing exposition of what “real-ontic” could mean 94 For the classic study concerning “relational ontology,” see Wilfried Joest, Ontologie der Person bei Luther (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1967). 95 Braaten and Jenson, Union with Christ, 17. See also Saarinen, Gottes Wirken auf uns, 4–5. 96 Mannermaa and Stjerna, Christ Present in Faith, 5. 97 Ibid. 98 See Dennis Bielfeldt, “The Ontology of Deification” in Caritas Dei: Beiträge zum Verständnis Luthers und der gegenwärtigen Ökumene: Festschrift für Tuomo Mannermaa zum 60. Geburtstag (Helsinki: Luther–Agricola–Gesellschaft, 1997), 90–113, where he valiantly, although unpersuasively, “tries to classify and clarify some of the ontological issues connected with the assertion by the Finnish school that there is, for Luther, a “real– ontic” presence of Christ in the believer . . . [acknowledging that] those outside the Mannermaa circle who either staunchly disdain or avidly embrace “Lutheran deification’ often suffer from the same malady, namely that “they are not always precisely clear on the claims made by the Finnish research.” This lack of clarity continues. cf., Olson, Roger. “Deification in Contemporary Theology,” Theology Today vol. 64 no. 2 July (2007): 186–

124

Luther, Paul, and the Law

that does not look like Aristotelian substance metaphysics has revealed the heart of the enterprise as less concerned with theological precision as with prescription, less concerned with orthodoxy as with orthopraxis. Take Risto Saarinen’s 2007 short article “How Paul got Luther Right” for example, in which he mentions that David A. Brondos in “Did Paul Get Luther Right?” is uncomfortable with the “ontology” of the Finns because he thinks that it, “makes righteousness an ‘infused’ virtue which resembles the Catholic and Orthodox models of salvation. (26– 27) This has been the standard Protestant objection to the Finnish studies.” Furthermore, he admits that: It may be true that some Finns have used the word “ontological” in a careless manner, the opponents seem to assume that our participation in Christ must be either ‘Aristotelianinfused-metaphysics’ or no real participation at all. These are just wrong alternatives . . . The Finnish scholars have spent a great deal of effort in defining these contents, but we have also affirmed the ineffability of the final mysteries of real presence.99

Disregarding the many and varied nuances within “relational ontology,”100 and despite Saarinen’s protestations, there is little “mystery” in his subsequent retort to Brondos’ assertion that the “in Christ” language is analogous to the non-metaphysical way Paul speaks of his fellow believers being “held in his heart;”101 he states: This is flatly wrong . . . The [in Christ] phrases describe a participatory soteriology which influences and changes the person who is in Christ. It would be futile to debate whether this reality is “ontological” when the interpreters ascribe to different ideological contents to this word. When Finns call this reality ontological, we mean the presence of God in the mystery of faith. It need not be literal, spatio-temporal or Aristotelian. We are discussing theology, not Newtonian physics.102

In other words, whatever the Finns mean by “real-ontic” it is more than what those who argue against a substance metaphysic, i.e., the “German Lutherans” with their neo-Kantian “relational ontology,” mean, but is less than what Aristotle means. In all of this, what exactly is meant is not really clear, except to say that whatever it is, it is central to their wholesale reinterpretation of Luther studies.103 In addition to the lack of clarity surrounding this central issue, there is growing evidence that the attempted revisions will have result200, who gives a good overview of the ways in which deification operates with respect to the “divine energies” in traditional Orthodox theology. 99 Risto Saarinen, “How Luther Got Paul Right,” Dialog 46, no. 2 (2007): 171. 100 See Sybille Rolf, “Exkurs 3: Union cum Christo. Die finnische Lutherforschung,” in Zum Herzen sprechen: Eine Studie zum imputativen Aspekt in Martin Luthers Rechtfertigungslehre und zu seinen Konsequenzen für die Predigt des Evangeliums (Leipzig: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 2008), 214–225. 101 Phil. 1:7 102 Saarinen, “How Luther Got Paul Right,” 171. 103 One is reminded of the 1964 US Supreme Court case Jacobellis v. Ohio where Justice Potter Stewart gave his famous test for obscenity, “I'll know it when I see it.”

The “German Luther(an)” Discussion

125

ed in simply clarifying already existing dogmatic categories. For example, in Engaging Luther, a collection of essays written by Finnish Lutheran Theologians, Risto Saarinen remarks: My own work on the concepts of forgiveness and gift has probably provided a basis for some differentiation between my own thinking and some earlier Finnish achievements. While Simo Peura strongly pleads for the unity of forensic and effective justification, I am more inclined to grant God’s merciful favor a conceptual primacy over the donum, the effective fruit. I believe that a gift can only be identified as gift if we know the intention of the giver. Thus divine mercy and benevolence in a way precedes divine fruit.104

In other words, the primary movement of God’s benevolent judgment of mercy is both logically and necessarily prior to any subsequent outworking of said judgment. It is not hard to read this conception in symphony with many other “German Lutherans,” who, by their insistence on forensic rather than effective justification, were merely trying to maintain this very priority.105 Despite their stated attempt to rescue theology from subjectivity, there lies at the heart of the Finnish program, like those we have already examined, a deep subjectivity grounded in apophatic theologizing from stated “givens” and working backwards. In this respect, for Saarinen, it is “flatly wrong” to consider soteriology as being anything other than something that is “participatory” in which the believer is “changed.” We see similar argumentation back in Yeago, who maintained that the purpose of the incarnation was to be “truly ‘deified by grace,’”106 and in Jenson arguing that “ontological identification with the Son’s inner-Trinitarian obedience of the Father is what Luther means by ‘becoming righteous,’ being ‘justified.’”107 For the “New Perspective” the givens consisted of both the ecclesiological significance of the law for Paul as well as a lack of any condemnatory function – the lex semper 104 Risto Saarinen, “Finnish Luther Studies: A Story and a Program,” in Engaging Luther: A (New) Theological Assessment, ed. Olli–Pekka Vainio (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2010), 18. 105 See Timothy J. Wengert’s scathing review, “Union with Christ: The New Finnish Interpretation of Luther,” Theology Today 56, no. 3 (1999): 432, where he states, “This volume presents readers with a perspective that is neither new nor, in final analysis, germane to the heart of Luther's theology. It is also not, as the preface boasts, radical. Instead, it represents a debate with certain aspects of ‘German’ theology (a moniker that this reviewer found disturbing). It ignores other major schools of Luther interpretation, including that of Heiko Oberman and other historians. Moreover, it glosses over the fact that Lutherans have been debating the question of justification among themselves since the sixteenth century . . . In short, this book will help readers to know what Finnish theologians think of their own tradition. Here one sees what happens when modern ecumenical agendas and old–fashioned pietism become the chief spectacles through which to view an historical figure. If readers want to understand Luther's radical approach to justification by faith alone, this book will finally disappoint.” 106 Yeago, “Gnosticism,” 48. 107 Braaten and Jenson, Union with Christ, 24.

126

Luther, Paul, and the Law

accusat – of the law for “pre-conversion” Paul. The psychological predetermination that people are no longer anguishing under the threat and accusation of the law, which was picked up by Pannenberg, is the common thread uniting all of these critiques. Finally, in seeing how the Finnish Lutherans are rejecting centuries of philosophical and theological debate over metaphysics by fiat we begin to notice the similarities amongst the variations. For each has brought us back full-circle, echoing the fear of David Yeago’s “Gnosticism and antinomianism,” and has responded by de-emphasizing the distinction between law and gospel and the centrality of justification by faith alone. Now, having examined the contemporary objections, we are finally in a position to examine the real nature of the current discussion surrounding law and gospel at it relates to justification by faith. Although it was in the confrontation with God outside of Christ that drove Luther to his desperate need for the certainty of God’s “categorical gift”108 of mercy and forgiveness in the face of Anfechtung, as we’ve seen, even though the century began with this appreciation of this very Anfechtungserfahrung, it was quickly subsumed by Barth’s positing of an ultimate unity to law and gospel under the heading of love. This argument, processed through and in reaction to the events of the Second World War, the changing psychological orientation of the “West,” and increasing pressure for ecumenical rapprochment, precipitated a reaction to an overly-psychologized “Lutheran Paul” and a too “German” Luther that has dominated the theological conversation concerning justification to this day. So, we find ourselves at the beginning of the second decade of the 21st century looking at a revised portrait of Luther and a wholesale reappraisal of the significance of the central concern of the Reformation, i.e., the doctrine of justification by faith, and the question remains: how did this come about? How is it that this change occurred and converged, and from so many disparate theological disciplines? In answer to this we return to the fundamental premise of this study, that there are two ways of “doing theology,” one that posits a unity to God’s address to the world and one that holds that unity in the face of Anfechtung by faith. For the latter, the law operates in a soteriological way, functioning primarily as that which drives the oppressed towards relief from said Anfechtung; for the former, an appreciation for the urgency of conversion from unbelief to faith, from Anfechtung to certainty, is not as pressing as other concerns for a Christian theological world that sees itself under increasing ecumenical, pluralistic, political, and social pressure. It is no surpise, therefore, that Luther and his insistence on “justificaion by faith alone,” appears hopelessly individualistic and selfish even, because ecclesiological unity – the communal – is given 108

To this concept in Bayer, see “Worship and Ethics,” in Oswald Bayer and Alan M. Suggate, Worship and Ethics: Lutherans and Anglicans in Dialogue (New York: Walter de Gruyter, 1996), 148–161.

The “German Luther(an)” Discussion

127

priority over the soteriological plight of the individual. Interestingly enough, and despite all of the Protestants lining up to affirm various positions that their forefathers took great pains to reject, it was in 1984 that none other than Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger saw this situation most clearly and articulated a clear difference between these two ways of doing theology by juxtaposing a theology based on justification by faith, and one by faith alone. As we have shown, one of the main objections to the Reformation emphasis on justification by faith is its corresponding particulae exclusivae, namely, the word alone.109 Since love, according to Mark 12:30, is the summation of the law, justification by faith alone excludes love, as law, from the formation. It is upon this one word that the distinction between law and gospel rests, because without it, justification can be seen along the lines of Yeago’s Thomism as “the perfection of nature.” In contrast, the Reformers took great pains to articulate this very distinction. In the Apology to the Augsburg Confession article IV, it is stated: But someone may ask: Since we also grant that love is the work of the Holy Spirit and since it is righteousness because it is the keeping of the law, why do we deny that it justifies? To this we must answer, first of all, that we do not receive the forgiveness of sins through love or on account of love, but on account of Christ by faith alone.110

This exclusion of love “on account of Christ by faith alone” is the basis for the Lutheran insistence on justification as a forensic rather than effective judgment by God, one that necessitates a divine imputation rather than infusion of love.111 But no matter how strongly worded, the confusion over the place of works – and in particular, love – with respect to justification remains. This is not surprising, however, because it was the precipitating cause of Luther’s break with Rome, and to understand why, we now turn to the aforementioned 1984 interview with then Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger entitled “Luther and the Unity of the Churches.” II. Maledicta Sit Caritas In response to the question, “Are there still any serious differences between the Catholic Church and the Reformed Churches and, if so, what are they?” Ratzinger responds, “entire libraries have been written on the subject. To answer it succinctly and concisely is rather difficult.” Nevertheless, he argues, all of this discussion “will trigger the question concerning the funda109

To this point, see Paulson, “The Augustinian Imperfection,” 104. The Book of Concord the confessions of the Evangelical Lutheran Church, ed. T. G. Tappert (Philadelphia: Mühlenberg Press, 1959) 127. 111 See Rolf, Zum Herzen sprechen, 437–38, where she notes “Luther states that both faith of heart and imputation by God are necessary and sufficient to obtain Christian righteousness, he seems to think of the effective and forensic aspects of justification coming together.” 110

128

Luther, Paul, and the Law

mental decision: does all this rest on a fundamental difference, and, if so, can it be pinpointed? . . . How deep does the difference really go?”112 To answer this question, he turns to Luther, whom he argues: Was himself convinced that the separation of the teaching from the customs of the papal Church – to which separation he felt obliged – struck at the very foundation of the act of faith . . . The act of faith as described by Catholic tradition appeared to Luther as centered and encapsulated in the Law, while it should have been an expression of the acceptance of the Gospel. In Luther’s opinion, the act of faith was turned into the very opposite of what it was; for faith, to Luther, is tantamount to liberation from the Law, but its Catholic version appeared to him as a subjugation under the Law . . . 113

It was the power of this conviction that gave Luther the strength to oppose the entire Catholic Church, argues Ratzinger and, although “it has become fashionable to insist that there are no longer any controversies concerning justification . . . after Luther’s lifelong insistence on the central differences in the teachings on justification, it seems justifiable to assume that it is here that we will, most likely, discover the fundamental difference.”114 This “fundamental difference,” he argues, rests in the power that Luther experienced by faith to answer the “basic fear of God by which [his] very existence was struck down.” Overcoming this fear, argues Ratzinger, becomes synonymous with redemption and became the “axis” of his concept of faith, which “assures, above all, the certainty of one’s own salvation.”115 He argues that since the “personal certainty of redemption” lay at the heart of Luther’s gospel insight, this had significant implications for the way in which the three “divine virtues” of faith, hope, and love were to be understood. For Luther, he argues, the certainty of hope and faith, two things that were distinct in Roman Catholic theology, became one idea, one wrapped up in the assurance of personal salvation. How this affected love is of particular importance for our discussion, because whereas love was once that which formed faith, it is now faith – excluding love – that counts before God alone. Ratzinger explains that, “That is why love, which lies at the center of the Catholic faith, is dropped from the concept of faith; Luther goes so far as to formulate this polemically in his large commentary on Saint Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians: maledicta sic caritas, down with love!”116 For Luther, argues Ratzinger, “love” was moved out of the category of “Gospel” and placed in that of the “law,” thereby making it part of one’s obligation as a Christian, but not constitutive of becoming one. 112

Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger (Benedict XVI), “Luther and the Unity of the Churches,” Communio 11, no. 3 (1984): 216. 113 Ibid., 217. 114 Ibid., 218. 115 Ibid., 218. 116 Ibid.

The “German Luther(an)” Discussion

129

Before analyzing this remarkable series of observations, Ratzinger observes one final aspect of Luther’s theology germane to the current study, namely, that he recognizes that for Luther: The unity of Scripture that had hitherto been interpreted as a unity of steps toward salvation, as a unity of analogy, was now replaced with the dialectic of Law and Gospel . . . I would say that the dialectic of Law and Gospel expresses most stringently Luther’s new experience and that it illustrates most concisely the contradiction with the Catholic concepts of faith, salvation, Scripture, and Church. To sum up, Luther did indeed realize what he meant when he saw the actual point of separation in the doctrine of justification that, to him, was identical with the ‘Gospel’ in contradistinction to the ‘Law.’ To be sure, one has to view justification as radically and as deeply as he did, that is, as a reduction of the entire anthropology – and thus also of all other matters of doctrine – to the dialectic of law and gospel.117

As Ratzinger rightly observes, for Luther, the doctrine of justifiaion by faith and its corresponding distinction between law and gospel constituted the reformulation of Luther’s entire theological program. As we have seen, for Luther, to conflate faith and love was to mix law and gospel in a way that undermined the power of both. Rather than lessening over time, some 25 years later Ratzinger has not changed this appreciation of the importance of the disagreement and continues to emphasize how Luther and the Roman Catholic conception of “sola fide” remains the point of contention. For example, in a 2008 sermon entitled “St. Paul and Justification,” he argued that, “Luther’s expression ‘sola fide’ is true if faith is not opposed to charity, to love.”118 Here we have come to the place where the distinction between law and gospel is most clearly seen, the place that the Pope acknowledges is still the locus of contention, namely, the relationship between faith and love, which, 117

Ibid., 218–219. He continues, “Faith is to look at Christ, to entrust oneself to Christ, to be united to Christ, to be conformed to Christ, to his life. And the form, the life of Christ, is love; hence, to believe is to be conformed to Christ and to enter into his love. That is why, in the Letter to the Galatians, St. Paul develops above all his doctrine on justification; he speaks of faith that operates through charity” (cf., Galatians 5:14). http://www.zenit.org/article– 24302?l=english. Although I found this after reaching my initial conclusions in what follows, I am working along the same lines, albeit from a critical perspective, as that of Olli–Pekka Vainio in the chapter “Faith,” in Engaging Luther, 138–154. Vainio writes, “Luther claims that it is not faith formed by love that saves, but faith formed by Christ (fides Christo formata). Our formal righteousness (iustitia formalis) is not love, but faith – Christ – himself . . . But does that mean that faith and love are equally opposed?” The answer, following the Pope's 2008 homily is, no; “Being united with Christ and entrusting oneself to him is the essence of faith, which also brings about the union with divine love” (145–146). This will be addressed in detail in this section, but it is not surprising that only when the law and gospel distinction is abandoned, one can observe that, “the Pope writes in a way that shows a remarkable affinity with Luther's views” (146). 118

130

Luther, Paul, and the Law

for Luther, could also be expressed precisely in terms of Gospel and law. Having had Ratzinger set the stage, it is now necessary to return to “Luther along the lines of Ebeling,” – accented by Bayer and Forde – because it has been the contention of this work that Ebeling’s Luther evinces a consistent and unflinching appreciation of this radical break between faith and love as maintained by the proper distinction between law and gospel. This Luther, as we will see, does not so much reject classic Christian categories, but reinterprets them in light of a new appreciation of the power and role of faith – both Christian and non – in the life of a human being. III. Martin Luther “Along the Lines of Ebeling” For Ebeling, the nature of faith was not, as has been grossly misinterpreted, a mere existentialism devoid of ontological significance; rather, faith creates its ontological significance by nature of the formerly accused standing absolved in relation to Christ. His is, however, a conception of the faith that is radically shorn of any mediation other than the “Word Alone,” which is a logically consistent point, but nevertheless highly contested. For example, take this passage in his seminal essay “The Significance of the Critical Historical Method,” where he argues: The sola fide of the Reformation is directed not only against justification by works and thereby against a legalistic exposition of scripture, not only against mysticism and against multiplication of the revealing reality in the form of saints and against materialization of the revealing reality in the form of sacred objects. But the sola fide has undoubtedly also an anti-sacramental and an anti-clerical point. To the sola fide there corresponds solus Christus. Revelation and the present are separated from each other in such a way that only one bridge remains: the Word alone-and indeed, lest any misunderstanding should arise, the Word interpreted as salvation sola gratia, sola fide..119

This is the logical outworking of a theology that sees the gospel as distinct from the law at the very point of mediation. For Ebeling, whenever and however the Gospel is properly presented – “as salvation sola gratia, sola fide,” – then the conditions are sufficient for the awakening of faith. This awakened faith, while experiential, because it deals with the embodied, historical person, is thorougoingly ontological as well. A person who has transitioned from unbelief to faith is transformed. At this point, we can see why the distinction 119 Ebeling, “Signifigance,” 36. It is unfortunate that this essay is often used as an example of the historical–critical method gone wrong because critics seem to have missed this all–important sentence in which Ebeling argues that not only the revealed tradition and customs must be subjected to critical appropriation, but the method itself. “It leads only to obscuring the nature of the problem when the critical historical method is held to be purely formal scientific technique, entirely free of presuppositions, whose application to the historical objects in the theological realm provokes no conflict and does not hurt the dogmatic structure” (42).

The “German Luther(an)” Discussion

131

between faith and love is so crucial to this way of doing theology. If something has to be added to faith for it to be effective, that means the promise secured by Christ in the gospel is insufficient, or, in other words, his promise is lacking. What is lacking in the promise of the gospel must be added to by love for it to become effectual; however, this is abhorrent to Luther, because it not only takes saving emphasis off of Christ, but also introduces a measure of distrust of the promises of God himself. As Luther writes in his commentary on Galatians, he explains that Where they speak of love, we speak of faith. And while they say that faith is the mere outline but love is its living colors and completion, we say in opposition that faith takes hold of Christ and that He is the form that adorns and informs faith as color does the wall . . . In short, just as the sophists say that love forms and trains faith, so we say that it is Christ who forms and trains faith or who is the form of faith.120

For Luther, any admixture of love and faith, law and gospel, is insufficiently Christocentric and, ultimately, leaves people in a state of mistrust of God’s promise. This distinction between love and faith is furthermore important with respect to the knowledge of what Ebeling calls Luther’s “passivity of faith,” which is central to the distinction between law and gospel, because it is in knowing where to rest and where to work that we find the distinction between the work of God and the work of human beings. So Ebeling explains that Luther: Understands the person not on the basis of its potentialities and its activities, that is, not within the category of morality [i.e., Law], but regards it, in sharp contrast to the active behavior of man toward the world, as the passivity which constitutes man’s being, as his existence as a creature, as his relationship to God and his standing in the sight of God. This leads us to a fundamentally different understanding of the distinction between person and work.121

This passivity of faith, what Bayer calls the vita passiva, is not reliant on a system of progressive emancipation from vice, however conceived, to virtue, as in the case of all of the preceding theological programs that want to view the law and gospel on continuum, but, rather, on the radical “rupture” between the life of faith and the life of unbelief. With respect to the question of justification, when so conceived, the arguments devolve into much of what we have been discussing throughout this study, namely, how to structure a theological program that will maintain the balance between faith and love, grace and work, law and gospel, as seen on a continuum, all while maintaining confessional allegiances to particular church bodies.

120 121

LW 26:129 Ebeling, Luther, 157.

132

Luther, Paul, and the Law

However, as the 20th century attests, when there is such a shared, for lack of a better word, “system” within which one conceives the nature of justification, then in the face of increased external pressures, the previously held objections to ecumenical discussion fall by the wayside, and some theologians and ministers lose the conviction that they should remain committed to the theology of the Reformers, and the confessional allegiances fall.122 In many ways, this is understandable given a certain set of presuppositions surrounding justification, because, as Forde argues: The inevitable result of such thinking [within a system of progressive sanctification] in terms of movement, however, has meant that the dogmatic tradition has been plagued with a problem, especially when justification is identified with remission of sins. In its simplest form it may be put thus: if justification comes at the beginning of the ‘movement,’ it is superfluous. If one has already made the ‘movement’ or process, one is just and need not be pronounced so. Thus, one finds oneself in a position where ‘forensic’ justification seems to be at odds with the very scheme it presupposes, and this antimony is raised to its zenith and betrays its anxiety when it feel called upon to insist that it cannot entail any ‘moral’ change or progress.123

In anticipation of the conclusion, the solution to this problem that has plagued the dogmatic tradition will be to reappropriate the conception of sin that we have been articulating, namely, as primarily unbelief and secondarily moral transgressions. When so conceived, then justification by faith alone restores the relationship to God in Christ by which works of love, i.e., the law, are divested of any soteriological import. Just as Bayer argues, “if the nature of the human being consists of hearing and believing, then perversion rumbles along by not hearing, by dis-obedience, in unbelief and in sin,”124 so the remedy for this sin, in this respect, is not to prescribe law, but to preach the Gospel, thus bringing faith by hearing and restoring the “peversion” of the human person. Although this emphasis on faith alone is often accused of being subjectivistic and existentialistic, those criticisms do not take the ontological significance of faith seriously enough.125 As evidence of this radical, ontologically significant nature of faith in Luther, Sybille Rolf, who has written extensively on the subject,126 points to 122

The most famous example of this in my own tradition is that of John Henry Cardinal Newman (1801–1890), whose 90 written tracts wrestling with the theological implications of the 39 Articles of Religion – a decidedly Protestant document – birthed the “Oxford Movement,” in the Church of England, but eventually led him to enter into full communion with the Church of Rome. 123 Forde, “Forensic Justification and the Christian Life: Triumph or Tragedy?” in A More Radical Gospel, 118. 124 Bayer, Martin Luther's Theology, 179. 125 See Gerhard Ebeling, Dogmatik des christlichen Glaubens. Band I (Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr, 1982), 219–224. 126 Rolf, Zum Herzen sprechen.

The “German Luther(an)” Discussion

133

Luther’s provocative statement that faith, “is the creator of the Deity, not in the substance of God but in us.”127 She argues that: This provocative sentence means that Christian faith does not actually create God in himself, but God for me. By believing in God, God is not made, for this would be a misunderstanding of Luther’s theology, as was influentially done in the critique of Ludwig Feuerbach. 128

In other words, this power that “creates God in us,” i.e., faith, is that same power which creates the human being anew as one “united with God,” in a way that cannot help but have ontological ramifications. So Oswald Bayer can write: Justification by faith alone is not only limited to an event applied to an already existing creature who has fallen into sin. Luther’s thesis is to be interpreted according to its ontological significance. In this perspective, the thesis claims that human nature, being a human, consists solely in being justified by faith. Taken in this way, justification by faith pertains to more than simply the anthropological sphere. Justification is to be understood in an comprehensive way in the sense of a theology of creation and as an ontology: “Mundum iustificari fide.”129

Here we have come to the decisive point for our discussion of Luther’s break with Rome over the distinction between law and gospel. When Ratzinger pointed out, “The personal certainty of redemption became the decisive center of Luther’s ideas . . . the certainty of hope and the certainty of faith, though hitherto essentially different, became identical,” a move that he would characterize as, “a radical personalization of the act of faith,”130 he put his finger on the very point of misunderstanding. If the law and gospel are understood along a traditional, progressive line, then an emphasis on this personal “certainty of redemption” would, indeed, signal a sort of insular individualism that is fundamentally concerned only with itself and its own salvation. This is why Ratzinger can describe Luther’s “personal certainty of salvation” as revolving around the “‘axis’ of the concept of faith [which] is explained very clearly in Luther’s Little Catechism: “I believe that God created me . . . I believe that Jesus Christ . . . is my Lord

127 LW 26:227, “[Faith] is the creator of the Deity, [fides est creatrix divinitatis] not in the substance of God but in us. For without faith God loses His glory, wisdom, righteousness, truthfulness, mercy, etc., in us; in short, God has none of His majesty or divinity where faith is absent.” 128 Sibylle Rolf, “Luther's Understanding of Imputatio in the Context of His Doctrine of Justification and Its Consequences for the Preaching of the Gospel,” International Journal of Systematic Theology 12, no. 4 (2010): 442. See also, Leif Grane, “Erwägungen zur Ontologie Luthers,“ NZSTh. 13:2 (1971):188–198. 129 Bayer, “Justification and Ontology,” 46. 130 Ratzinger, “Luther and the Unity of the Churches,” 218–219.

134

Luther, Paul, and the Law

who saved me . . . In order that I may be His . . . and serve Him forever in justice and innocence forever.”131 However, when understood along the aforementioned lines of his statement that fides est creatrix divinitatis, we can begin to see that for Luther, the question was not about personal salvation and individual assurance before God but, rather, the way in which God was actually creating a believing creature ex nihilo by faith. That Ratzinger can interpret the pro me as an individualizing move in which Luther “radically personalized” the nature of faith while Ebeling, Bayer, and Forde see this as the very place where individualism is destroyed by the creation of a life-giving word extra nos, illustrates the competing metaphysical and theological assumptions underlying each respective interpretation. For Ratzinger, “to the Catholic, the Church herself is contained within the inmost movement of the act of faith: only by communal belief do I partake of the certainty on which I can base my life.”132 Consequently, certainty comes not by faith through hearing, but by communal participation in the body of Christ on earth, i.e., the church. However, for Luther, the church so described was intolerably unstable because the security rested not in the certainty of the verbum externum but, rather, in the various abilities of individuals rightly and faithfully to participate. What Ratzinger sees as a move towards individualism is, in actuality, the confession of the end of self-reliance in any way, and full dependence on the mercies of God that can only be received, not engendered or developed or secured within one’s self in any way. We will return to a fuller discussion of this concept below in the section entitled “ex-centric being;” however, with respect to Ratzinger’s claim that this conception of faith in Luther “radically personalized” the nature of faith, consider Ebeling’s discussion of the ramifications of his conception of faith from his essay “Jesus and Faith.” He writes that faith “is the renunciation of everything man can achieve towards assuring his own existence,” that in answer to the question as to the ground of human existence, the person of faith answers, “only by not relying on himself but on what is absolutely outside himself and really reliable.”133 While this may be “personalizing” faith in 131

Ibid., 218. Ibid., 219. 133 Ebeling, “Jesus and Faith,” in Word and Faith, 212–213. This is not to say that Ebeling detaches faith as a concept from the person and work of Jesus. Consider, for example, his statement towards the end of the essay where he writes, “This is certainly not to declare Jesus superfluous. For faith does not arise in a man automatically. No man can awaken faith in himself by his own power, or decide for faith by his own power. But whatever may have to be said about the rise of faith in the light of the New Testament testimony as a whole, the testimony of the tradition about Jesus, which is the only thing we are considering now, is that the risk of faith always depended on the encounter with Jesus” (243). For an interesting, although not ultimately compelling, view of what “faith“would 132

The “German Luther(an)” Discussion

135

a radical way, it does so in order dramatically to recreate human beings as those who are given their identities by God in the word of the Gospel to them. This conception of faith is central to the work of Oswald Bayer, as we will see below, as it is what he calls the life of “ex-centric’ being” (exzentrisches Sein). This being, argues Bayer, rests on the “pro me” of Luther’s insight into the nature of justification and is where we are “created anew and have our permanent identity outside ourselves. This is an ontological situation that “gives theology the criterion of truth it needs to critique both the ancient ‘metaphysics of substance’ and the modern ‘metaphysics of the subject,’ since neither allows us to think of an “ ‘ex-centric’ being” or of the permanent identity of the self in another person.”134 For Bayer, at the core of Luther’s theology lies justification as the human person being constituted by another person as opposed to self-reliance, which establishes an ontological shift from a metaphysic of substance toward an ontology of relation (Relationsontologie).135 For Bayer, quite contrary to the stereotypes of Luther with the “introspective conscience,” the nature of faith on account of the world being constituted by the interplay of address and response, of God speaking in and through creation as law and through the church as Gospel that establishes the pro me as a decidedly non-individualistic event in that the address of the Gospel to the sinner, “is that communicative event by which the world that is curved in and distorted, because it is closed in on itself completely, is saved.”136 The saving event of the gospel is removing the sinful situation of being “closed in on itself completely” – of being incurvatus in se137 – which is Luther’s depiction of the life lived in sin and under the law, and establishing the identity of the human being, by faith, as one grounded in the forgiveness and mercies of God.138 It is this nature of sin and faith as the passive reception of God’s judgment of both condemnation and absolution, law and gospel, that necessitates the maintenance of the alone with justification by faith. Not, as has often been argued, so as to maintain a pure doctrine of imputed, forensic justification (no look like in a similarly empowering way, but shorn of all historical referents, see, Daphne Hampson’s Christian Contradictions, which is a book that draws heavily on Luther’s radical doctrine of faith but from the perspective of a “post – theist.” 134 Bayer et al., Theology the Lutheran Way, 103. 135 To this point, see Bayer ,Theologie, 40–42. 136 Bayer et al., Theology the Lutheran Way, 184. 137 LW 25:291: “The reason is that our nature has been so deeply curved in upon itself because of the viciousness of original sin that it not only turns the finest gifts of God in upon itself and enjoys them (as is evident in the case of legalists and hypocrites), indeed, it even uses God Himself to achieve these aims, but it also seems to be ignorant of this very fact, that in acting so iniquitously, so perversely, and in such a depraved way, it is even seeking God for its own sake.” 138 See Bayer, “Der Gegenstand der Theologie,” in Theologie 2.1, 408–418.

136

Luther, Paul, and the Law

matter how synergistic one’s conception of progressive sanctification may be) over against a Roman Catholic view of infused righteousness but, rather, that the imputation of total grace can expose the situation of total sin, i.e., unbelief, and thus require the believer, like Luther, to reject all mediation to God and trust in his word from outside. In this way, there is no sense of “progress” in a metaphysical (read: legal) sense; rather, the “progress”139 is one in which there is a growing sense of gratitude and excitement for the ever-dawning reality of the promise having been not only fulfilled once for all on the Cross, but mediated out without distinction to all who are within earshot of a preacher bringing the word of the Gospel. Faith, in this respect, while personal, is not private, because it creates a situation of self-judgment that comes as a response to the accusing and convicting power of the law. For the person who is not related to God as a justified sinner, there is no option other than to deny an aspect of who they are qua sinner on account of fear. For those who have heard the gospel as the end of the law, then it establishes that self-awareness in confidence to confess not partial sinfulness, but complete helplessness before God and, as a result, opens to a new life of faith lived in the light of what is promised rather than what can be coerced or aggregated this side of heaven.140

139

To this point, see Forde, The Preached God, 283. “But God is revered only when the sinner stands still where God enters the scene. That place is where sinners must realize that their way is an end, that Christ is for them, and that glory is to be given to God alone. Only those who “repent” are sanctified. Thus the way of the believer, if it is a movement at all, is a transitus from nothing to all, from what one has and is of oneself to what one has and is in Christ . . . each moment could only be at once beginning and end, start and finish.” 140 As we have seen above in our discussion of the objections levied at Luther’s “introspective conscience,” it is this conception of the dynamic operating between faith and unfaith, between sin and justification, that necessitated Luther's simul iustus et peccator formulation, because the two states of human life, i.e., in faith our unbelief, can not be viewed as partial; rather, they must be understood as two sides of the conflict that is the life lived under the law in light of the promise of the gospel. Gerhard O. Forde quotes a passage from Wilfried Joest, Gesetz und Freiheit (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1961), on this topic. For Forde, Joest captures the correct understanding of the simul that protects it from becoming what he terms a, “counsel of despair.” Joest writes: “The simul is not the equilibrium of two mutually limiting partial aspects but the battleground of two mutually exclusive totalities . . . The Christian is not half free and half bound, but slave and free at once, not half saint, but sinner and saint at once, not half alive, but dead and alive at once, not a mixture but a gaping opposition of antithesis . . . The person in Christ is the person of the new age. The judgment of God which proclaims this person as established over against the opposing earthly situation is likewise the anticipatory proclamation of the new world. The faith which receives and grasps that new status in Christ is an eschatological event; it is ever and anew the step out of this world of the visible, tangible, given reality, the world in which the totus peccator is the reality, into the

The “German Luther(an)” Discussion

137

As we have seen, Luther “along the lines of Ebeling” argues that the break with Rome over the distinction between law and gospel was not on account of an individualistic need to be set free from anguish and despair, but because it was by this address of law-free Gospel from the outside that constituted his very existence as a creature before his God. This is why faith, and not love, became the apex of true worship, because it was in light of the confession of the totus iustus vs. the totus peccator that there could be the freedom to cry out to God, to “hunger and thirst for righteousness.”141 “A total state admits of no increase or decrease,” writes Forde, “Sanctification in that light is simply to believe the divine imputation and with it the totus peccator. There can be no more sanctification than where the judgment of God is revered and believed.”142 Due to the lack of an eschatological distinction between the law and gospel in the Roman Catholic Church, the church must, therefore, itself assume the role of the gospel. What this means is that by participation in the church – and by that meaning the church as the visible body of Christ – it becomes the means by which people are united to God. These two ways of theology, the only two that we have allowed for, i.e., one that sees the unity of law and gospel and one that distinguishes, are marked by two dramatically different ecclesiological structures which derive their authority from markedly different ways. For the church in Rome and those for whom the visible unity takes precedence over the supposedly individualistic nature of justification by faith alone, then the authority necessarily takes upon, theologically understood, legal overtones. This is, of course, most prevalent in the office of the Pope himself. However, this appeal to unity in the visible church, completely aside from the question as to whether it is even desirable,143 allows for a preemptive transgression of the eschatological limits of what can be said and what must be confessed: “I believe in the holy catholic and apostolic church” is an article of faith, not sight. On the other hand, a church “established” by the gospel exists wherever people are called to “repent and believe” through the preaching of law and gospel. “True authority, in this light,” argues Forde, “is what sets you free – in the ultimate sense, from sin, death and the devil. Authority, as you will remember, comes from the Latin auctoritas and means creation or creative

eschaton” (58–59), quoted in, Forde, “Forensic Justification and the Law in Lutheran Theology,” Justification by Faith, 283. 141 Forde, “Forensic Justification and the Christian Life: Triumph or Tragedy?” 125. 142 Forde, A More Radical Gospel, 283. 143 See Notger Slenczka, “Pluralismus in der Kirche,” in Der Tod Gottes und das Leben des Menschen: Glaubensbekenntnis und Lebensvollzug (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2003) 295–310.

138

Luther, Paul, and the Law

power. An author in that sense is a creator. The preaching of the gospel is authoritative because it exercises that sort of power.” He continues: Gospel authority is compelling because of its sheer attractiveness, not because it imposes itself by the power to dominate and force. It grasps and holds me in the Spirit because it sets me free. The real problem of authority from this perspective is not how to bind but how to set people free. The basic assumption is not that the real problem for people is that they are living too loosely, but that they are bound – to the tyrants of sin, death, and the devil.144

This is the heart of the matter. Are people free and in need of ordering, or are they bound and in need of being set free? As we saw above in our discussion of Barth, the answer to this question will determine whether or not one conceives of the law and gospel as a unity or in distinction. It is the pastoral belief that however disunited or dysfunctional the church may be or become, the only hope for redemption from the bondage of the “tyrants of sin, death, and the devil” comes “by faith through hearing,” and not, as the case is often put, “through participation” in some (ultimately) eudemonistic scheme of selffulfillment; this is the conviction that necessitates that the distinction between law and gospel be observed and maintained. This is the life of faith that is mandated by the limits imposed on what can be articulated this side of the eschaton, a life that lives by faith in the face of Anfechtung that “will not try to articulate verbally what continues to be an open wound in the life of faith, until we see the face of the triune God without agonizing struggle.”145 Central to the concern of each of these three is the reality of this “open wound in the life of faith” that necessitates the need to go beyond theological speculation and dogmatic formulations to engage in the specific Christian proclamation [Verkündigung] which traverses what Ebeling calls “die Spannung zwischen ‘wissenschaftlicher’ Theologie und ‘kirchlicher’ Verkündigung.”146 For Ebeling, the results of this change in emphasis from what is seen to what must be believed has dramatic ramifications for the direction of theology, because this emphasis changes the entire conception of theology and the church from one that was necessarily concerned with the proper appropriation [Aneignung] of faith through different means to one that is concerned with 144

Forde, “Authority in the Church: The Lutheran Reformation,” in A More Radical Gospel, 56. 145 Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology, 82. This quote comes in the context of Bayer's exposition of how and how not to talk about the Trinity, to which we will return below. 146 Ebeling, Theologie und Verkündigung, 1. See also Slenczka, “Das Evangelium und die Schrift,” in Der Tod Gottes, 56, where he writes, “Wenn Jesus als gewißmachendes Wort begegnet, so ist darin das Besondere, durch nicht Ersetzbare, durch nichts Überholbare, daß er Gesißhiet gibt in der Unterscheidung von Gesetz und Evangelium zu gewisser Unterscheidung von Gott und Mensch.” It is exactly this “dialogical” relationship between God and humanity that is being protected by the distinction between law and gospel.

Conclusion

139

the correct and most direct way of proclamation: “in the church of the Word,147 theology serves the preaching which is the source of faith.”148 As we have shown, Ebeling, Bayer, and Forde can be read together on account of a shared appreciation of how the proper distinction between law and gospel drives proclamation, and of how that proclamation is understood as a life creating word by faith – the verbum efficax – by which people are given to stand firm in the midst of Anfechtung. Here they are in agreement.149

D. Conclusion We have come to the end of our exposition of the arguments surrounding the rejection of the distinction between law and gospel as the hermeneutical key to not only Luther’s theology, but to the theology of anyone for whom the doctrine of justification by faith alone remains the articulus stantis et cadentis ecclesiae – the article by which the church stands or falls. We have observed that the unsettled discussions surrounding the relationship between God’s wrath and love with respect to law and gospel that were taking place in Germany during the 19th century came to a head in the person and work of Karl Holl in such a way as to catapult the study of Luther onto the worldwide stage. Additionally, we observed that as significant as Holl’s reorientation of Luther’s theology around the experience of Anfechtung was, it was his inability to appreciate fully the eschatological dimension to law and gospel that left his construction open to subsequent psychological moralization.

147

For an example of how this can be understood sacramentally, see Dorothea Wendebourg, “Noch einmal ‘Den falschen Weg Roms zu Ende gegangen?’ Auseinandersetzung mit meinen Kritikern,” Zeitschrift für Theologie und Kirche 99, no. 4 (2002): 400–440. 148 Ebeling, “The Significance of the Historical Critical Method,” 36. 149 See Bayer, “Poetological Theology: New Horizons for Systematic Theology,” International Journal of Systematic Theology 1, no. 2 (1999): 154, where he writes, “What kind of logos does systematic theology deal in? The logos apophantikos, the word that makes declarations? If so, theological statement would be propositions. Propositions are declarative sentences; they allow what is to appear; they declare what is the case. but the theological statements to which these declarative sentences refer are not themselves declaration. These, the primary statement of faith – not those that come from faith, but rather those statements that create faith – are not constative, but constitutive. They are verbum efficax, the efficacious Word, the Word of the Creator, who created heaven and Earth through his efficacious Word (Genesis 1), who sustains all through his word of power (Hebrews 1.3), who forgives sin and thereby creates life and salvation, thus taking away the anxieties of existence not only from the past, but also from the future.” And to the entire question, cf., Forde, “Jesus, the Man in Whom God does God,” in Theology Is for Proclamation, 99–105.

140

Luther, Paul, and the Law

After World War Two and the objections of Karl Barth to the very existence of a distinction, we saw that a young Robert Jenson was, as of the 1960s, still convinced that whatever benefits Barth’s program had, he had still transgressed the eschatological limit placed on what can be stated verses what must be confessed. Nevertheless, we observed how over the next 40 years the growing sentimentalized psychologization of the “Lutheran Paul” was allowing for an increasingly individualized conception of the faith to the end that exegetes and theologians alike began to react to this gross misrepresentation of Paul and, as it would turn out, Luther himself. This rehabilitation of the (supposedly) neo-Kantian, existentialized Luther began in earnest with the Mannermaa schools of “Finnish Lutherans,” who, to this day, remain arguably the most significant non-German group of Lutherforschern in the world. Finally, we observed how at the heart of all of these discussions about law and gospel lies an enduring disagreement with the church in Rome and, by extension, with all who posit a unity to law and gospel and see no distinction between faith and love. Luther, as we have argued, saw in this distinction between faith and love a radical reversal in the way in which human beings were united to God. Not, as had been and still is the case for many, by organic participation through grace, but by grace through faith, alone (Eph 2:8). We have now come to a point where we can construct a positive “Ontology of the “Word of God”150 where we will incorporate the previous discussion and objections into a presentation of how a systematic theology can be read that takes into account the aforementioned critiques while nevertheless staying faithful to the primacy of the distinction between the law and the gospel. The purpose of this chapter is to make a sustained case that, despite the objections that have been raised, the distinction between law and gospel not only allows for, but also forces a Christocentric gospel proclamation that avoids the two “great temptations” of Gnosticism and antinomianism. What we will observe is that it is not so much Luther’s Reformation insistence on the distinction between law and gospel does away with classical theological concepts, but it reinterprets them in a radical way that emphasizes the role of faith at each and every point as that by which “one is justified.” We have now come to the culmination of this work, one to which we have been pointing all along, namely, that both Gnosticism and antinomianism are – when the distinction between law and gospel is rightly understood – ultimately not only unfounded, but finally impossible. 150

Although my own construction, I am, by way of R. Scott Clark, indebted to Robert Kolb for the phrase. cf Clark, “Iustitia Imputata Christi,” 308 n196, where he writes, “In a private discussion regarding the relations between Luther's doctrine of justification and ontology, Robert Kolb has suggested that we should speak of Luther's ‘ontology of the Word of God,’ so that, Luther's forensic language is not Nominalism, but creative of reality.”

Conclusion

141

The first step in this explication will begin with a discussion of what a concept of “ontology” could look like when understood in light of justification by faith alone. Following that, the importance of “faith alone” will be examined in order further to establish the relationship between the previous ontological construction through a hermeneutic dependent on a distinction between the “sinful human and the justifying God.” This will allow us to observe how the law operates with respect to creation and, again, the role of faith will be highlighted as the crucial concept. This chapter culminates in the assertion that theology along these lines forces not only an appreciation of the created world, but a commitment to the central role for the work of scripture. This is a conviction that is so deeply held by Oswald Bayer that he can venture a clarification to Luther’s famous statement, “Experience alone make a theologian,”151 by offering, “It is not experience as such that makes the theologian a theologian, but rather experiencing Holy Scripture.”152 The chapter then moves to the question of “antinomianism.” This section begins with examining Luther’s dispute with the antinomians where he writes his famous dictum that, finally, antinomianism is a “play to an empty theater,” by which he means that even if it can be conceived of conceptually, in actual fact, it is impossible. Building upon this understanding of the impossibility of true antinomianism, we turn to Gerhard Forde, in particular, who offers what will be, in the final judgment of this work, the verdict levied against all theologies that reject the distinction between law and gospel, namely, that they are “fake theologies.” By “fake,” what is meant is that they attempt to circumvent the lived experience of Anfechtung by some means other than the proclamation of the gospel as distinct from the law.

151 152

LW 54:7 Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology, 37 [emphasis added].

Chapter 6

An Ontology of the “Word of God” A. Ex-Centric Being Theologically understood, and following Luther’s criticism of Aristotle,1 the language of justification by faith with respect to ontology is not directly transferrable to the nomenclature of classical metaphysics, because in order to conceive of an adequate ontology along these lines the subject must remain on a continuum, somewhere located along a transition from a beginning to an end. As Gerhard Forde observed in his essay on “The Law in Lutheran Theology,” when the system is so conceived, then it raises what he has termed the “Systematic Problem.” He explains that when the human subject is understood to be on a continuum, then the movement is understood to be comprised of: “a) the infusion of grace, (b) a movement of the free will toward God in faith, (c) a movement of the free will in recoil from sin, and (d) the remission of sin.”2 This transition, however, is brought into question by an assertion that when one is justified by faith alone, then the corresponding righteousness is neither developed nor “infused” but, rather, “imputed.” In our previous section on Karl Holl, we saw how he wanted to reconcile these two concepts – imputation and development – by positing that God’s judgment comes at the end of a process, which is initiated by this judgment. However, Forde argues, rightly, that the result of this thinking is incompatible with an assertion that justification by faith comes by imputation rather than infusion, because “if justification comes at the beginning of the process, the process is unnecessary; if, however, it comes at the end of the process, justification is unnecessary.”3 This is where the genuine revolution of thought with respect to Luther’s conception of non-metaphysical “ontology” will become clear, because the tension that Holl wanted to alleviate by maintaining imputation and progress is deemed unnecessary in light of the human being as being ontologically constituted by faith. This will require some clarification, because, as we’ve seen in our discussion of both the Finnish Lutherans and Christine Helmer above, the term “ontology” is somewhat difficult to define; however, for our 1 2 3

See LW 31 “Disputation Against Scholastic Theology,” among others. Forde, “The Law in the Lutheran Tradition,” Justification by Faith, 281. Ibid.

Ex-Centric Being

143

purposes, what is meant by “ontology” is used somewhat in defensiveness, because ideally the term would be avoided entirely. In the theology presented here, the term “ontology” as distinct from “metaphysics” is denied as having anything but a conceptual meaning. In other words, the idea or “metaphysical construct” around which one situates his or her life is necessarily ontological, because the outworking of said commitment is lived out in the everyday human existence of that given person.4 But the confusion that has existed thus far results in the confusion of two distinctly different ways of doing theology, and, consequently, two incompatible systems. It is impossible fully to articulate what the significance of being justified by faith alone would look like with terms and concepts beholden to classical metaphysics, because there is no place for the radical discontinuity between a life of unbelief and a life of faith, a discontinuity that the writers of the New Testament could only describe in terms of the “transition” from death to life (Col. 2:13) or, what the Gospel of John explains as having been “born again.” (Jn. 3:7). Justification by faith is neither the starting place or destination, but the confession of those having been brought to new life out of death. If one were to characterize this an “ontology,” then it is most properly conceived of as an “ontology of the Word of God.” As we have noted above, this concept of what Oswald Bayer calls an “ex-centric” being allows for a theological system that takes a critical stance “towards any philosophy of substance and subject.”5 In other words, discussions surrounding a particular “ontology” of the Christian person are bound to obscure the radical nature of justification by faith because they rely on the ability successfully to articulate what is understood as the “ontological significance” of faith in the life of a particular person through an observable quality of the person that is either present or not – the movement from some concept of vice to virtue – rather than realizing that in the right confession of God, i.e., as one who “justifies the ungodly,” faith itself has created its own “ontological” significance in that the person so confessing is a living, breathing, physical, “ontological” being.6 The extrinsic nature of faith alone necessitates a new way talking about the human being other than those ways surrounding “ontology,” because the human who is “justified by faith” is created anew in such a way that defies all philosophical rationalization – either metaphysical or post-metaphysical – and, instead, rests on the death of the presently existing unbelieving subject having been raised to the life of faith. This (as-of-yet unseen! Heb. 11:1, 1 Cor. 13:12) eschatological reality becomes the present lived reality of the now-constituted by faith person, whose confession now has ultimate present importance. As we have been arguing all along, Anfechtung is the result of 4 5 6

To this entire concept, see Westphal, Overcoming Onto–Theology. Clark, “Iustitia Imputata Christi,” 47. See Bayer, “The Word of the Cross,” Lutheran Quarterly 9, no. 1 (1995): 47–55

144

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

the open-ended question of life, of “who are you?” directed at the entirety of a particular human life and his or her endeavors. In this sense, “ontology” is to be “ex-centric” whether by virtue of faith in God or not, because selfdefinition outside of an external referent – even when that referent is merely another person – is ultimately impossible. This is why the distinction between law and gospel is so crucial to the doctrine of justification by faith, if it actually is going to avoid the temptation to “Gnosticism,” because in the concept of an “ex-centric being” we are able fully to distinguish between the opus Dei and opus hominibum, which is vitally important when the opus Dei is the gospel – the justification of the unGodly.7 When these two works are confused, as they are in any theology that does not properly distinguish between law and gospel, there can be no qualitative discontinuity between the person of unbelief and the person of faith, no “new creation,” because there is nothing that Luther would explain as the “alien life,”8 because the former had not been killed by the law. It is this killing function of the word of the law, that lex semper accusat that brings into question the very existence of the human subject before God, that is the point of discontinuity between a law that instructs along a continuum, and one that brings the continuum to an end. When this point is missed, then rather than being able to rest on the promise of God as something completely external to us and to which we cling, the 7 Indeed, writes Christoph Schwöbel, this distinction lies at the heart of Martin Luther's rejection of the Medieval Catholic penitential system. cf., in Schwöbel, “A Quest for An Adequate Theology of Grace and the Future of Lutheran Theology: A Response to Robert W. Jenson,” Dialog: A Journal of Theology 42, no. 1 (2003): 26, where he writes, “Luther’s general criticism of the medieval doctrines of grace and of the way in which the question of grace is dealt with in the practice of the church is that the distinction between God's work and human work has become blurred and that therefore their relationship cannot be adequately perceived.” 8 LW 26:169–170. “Paul had said above: ‘I have died, etc.’ Here a malicious person could easily cavil and say: ‘What are you saying, Paul? Are you dead? Then how is it that you are speaking and writing?’ A weak person might also be easily offended and say: ‘Who are you anyway? Do I not see you alive and doing things?’ He replies: ‘I do indeed live; and yet not I live, but Christ lives in me. There is a double life: my own, which is natural or animate; and an alien life, that of Christ in me. So far as my animate life is concerned, I am dead and am now living an alien life. I am not living as Paul now, for Paul is dead.’ ‘Who, then, is living?’ ‘The Christian.’ Paul, living in himself, is utterly dead through the law but living in Christ, or rather with Christ living in him, he lives an alien life. Christ is speaking, acting, and performing all actions in him; these belong not to the Paul-life, but to the Christ-life. You malicious person, do not slander me for saying that I am dead. And you weak person, do not be offended, but make the proper distinction. There is a double life, my life and an alien life. By my own life I am not living; for if I were, the law would have dominion over me and would hold me captive. To keep it from holding me, I am dead to it by another law. And this death acquires an alien life for me, namely, the life of Christ, which is not inborn in me but is granted to me in faith through Christ.”

Ex-Centric Being

145

efficacy of the promise is validated by the amount of transition – the distance along the via – that one has experienced. Objections to this construal, as we have seen above in Jenson and others, insist that by denying ontological transformation along these lines one is left with a fictional righteousness that is a state of the mind, an existential change in “fundamental awareness.” However, these objections do not take into account the argument that an excentric faith along the lines of which we have been describing is something like an “ontological structure,” just not one that deals with the inherent qualities of the individual believer in himself, but in the appropriation of an external identity. Crucial to this ex-trinsic ontological construal is the assertion that faith – rightly or wrongly directed – is understood as a type of ontological category by necessity, because it, however directed, determines the concrete existence of the one so constituted. We can see this dynamic between faith and concrete human existence operating in Luther’s discussion of the role of Eve in the Fall, because for him, faith in God, rightly confessed, and unbelief are not categories that are consequential to ontology, but are themselves ontological categories which set the foundation for all subsequent discussions of sin, creation, the fall and redemption. He writes: It is true that Eve picked the fruit first; but before she did this, she sinned through her idolatry and fell from the faith. As long as faith is in the heart, it rules and directs the body; but when it has departed from the heart, the body is the servant of sin. Therefore the fault does not lie in the sex but in the weakness common to both woman and man.9

Here we can clearly see the relationship between faith, the body, creation, and sin. According to Luther, faith – or lack thereof – in God is the animating force of the heart out of which the mouth speaks (Luke 6:45, Mt. 12:34). From this conception of sin, writes Forde, “a quite different picture begins to emerge. There is nothing wrong with creation but the loss of faith. Sin is not merely wrong moral choice, it is faithlessness, unbelief.”10 This is precisely where we can see how faith and unbelief touch on the question of ontology, because when the gospel is preached and believed, argues Bayer, this “change in orientation from unbelief to faith [occurs, that] involves a conversion to the world, a turning toward the creature.”11 In other words, there is no necessary disjunction between faith in God and respect for the world, – quite the contrary! – they are inseparable, precisely because faith turns the stark anonymity of “nature” into the very handiwork of a creator God. This is the great irony in the charge levied against theology “along the lines of Ebeling,” that it is gnostic, because it is in this conversion by faith to God rightly understood that the entire created world is appreciated in a new and decidedly concrete 9 10 11

LW 2: (Gen. 6:3). Forde, The Law–Gospel Debate, 142. Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology, 107.

146

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

way. Rather than looking inward for confirmation of the indwelling of an infused righteousness, justification by faith alone situates the creature solely in his or her place, as the redeemed, embodied, wholly dependent, created subject of the justifying God. In order to more fully address the concerns that the distinction between law and gospel leads to a type of gnostic dualism whereby the creation is devalued, we will first look at the law as understood in its eschatological dimension by observing how justification by faith alone operates with respect to the doctrine of creation. Finally, we will address the fear of antinomianism. Since the subjectum theologiae itself consists of two participants – the human and God – it will come as no surprise that there is a similar bipolarity operative in the doctrine of creation. Therefore, we must begin with the homo peccator et deus iustificans. In what follows, we will look at the distinction between law and gospel – understood in its eschatological dialectic – as interpreted with respect to the enduring concerns12 of “Gnosticism and antinomianism.”13

B. Saving Faith Alone Fundamental to an eschatological understanding of the function of law and gospel is a rejection of a naive hermeneutic that distinguishes law and gospel by form rather than function. This rejection introduces a new level of complexity around the theological discussion of the law and requires a rare precision. Speaking of the need for precision when discussing technical jargon, like law, that is common across multiple disciplines, Ebeling observes two difficulties that present themselves to anyone who is trying to develop a theological concept: (1) the history of language, and (2) connection with contemporary reality. He cautions: We cannot with impunity ignore the history of language – to be made the uncritical prey of a particular linguistic tradition is of course one of the penalties of disregarding the history of language. But neither can we with impunity lose contact with reality; otherwise our concepts unexpectedly turn into empty shells.14

Fundamental presuppositions, such as those underlying a theological vs. a philosophical understanding of a particular word must, argues Ebeling – following Luther – be taken into account if we are to speak with the utmost

12

See above, “The “Twin Temptations.” N.B. Bayer has done extensive work on the relationship between creation and justification, and Forde on antinomianism and the law, so the following discussion will be weighted correspondingly. 14 Ebeling, “Reflections,” 249. 13

Saving Faith Alone

147

clarity.15 Recognizing this, however, is only the first step towards developing a theological concept, because one must go beyond “according to the scriptures,” for two reasons, writes Ebeling: First, because the Bible itself contains wide linguistic differences, so that e.g. the biblical concept of law simply does not exist, and second, because linguistically is the same as historically, and therefore the hermeneutic distinction between text and exposition arises at once, even when we think we are only repeating what we were taught.16

This is not, however, to discount the vocabulary of the Bible, but rather to recognize that systematic theology is just that discipline that works out the relationship between language, concepts and their intellectual history and development in order to “give expression to it in the way it has to be given expression by the Christian message.”17 By characterizing his reflection on the doctrine of the law in such a fashion, Ebeling sets up the basis for his contention that disagreements about the role of the law in a theological system must go beyond that of a Biblical word study or even a confessional appreciation of said word, because if the words that the scripture uses – words like, faith, sin, Holy Ghost, law and gospel – are to mean anything today, then they must be examined further. It is not that the words themselves have changed since their initial use, but that the historical, linguistic and theological relationship to the words has so developed that an examination of these changes can be understood as the core of the theological enterprise. This is also not to say that the disciplines of exegesis, philology, history and systematic theology are at odds; rather, “in actual practice they (the disciplines) are perforce bound up with each other, so that in the world of exegesis and of systematic theology we have only differences of accent in the world of carrying out the hermeneutic task.”18 For Ebeling – and this is a point that will be highlighted by both Bayer and Forde below – the theological task with respect to the law “does not consist merely in the form given to it in detail, but in the function which the doctrine of the law has in theology

15 See Ibid., 249, where he argues that, “It is chiefly a case of giving precise definition as theological concepts to words which are also used elsewhere, in everyday life as in other sciences. Luther here laid down the basic principle: Omnia vocabula fiunt nova, quando e suo foro in alienum transferuntur WA 39/I, p. 231. 1–3 (Disp. 1537) [WA 39/I, p. 231 1–3. (Disp. 1537)] The concept opus, for example, undergoes a change when we turn from the forum politicum of the lawyer to the forum theolgicum.” For a helpful exposition of this concept, albeit one that is highly critical of Ebeling, cf., Paul Hinlicky 's “Luther's Anti– Docetism in the Disputation de divinitate et humanitate Christi (1540),” in Creator est creatura: Luthers Christologie als Lehre von der Idiomenkommunikation, eds. Bayer, Oswald, and Benjamin Gleede (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2007), 139–182. 16 Ebeling, “Reflections,” 251. 17 Ibid., 252. 18 Ibid., 252–253.

148

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

as a whole.”19 For our purposes, this function lies “precisely in its importance, its killing effect, that it fulfills its soteriological function.”20 He continues: What makes its impotence into power is the fact that it determines the structure of human existence. Whether Jew, or sinner, or Gentile, whether pious or godless, everyone’s mode of existence despite all the difference is the same as the others in that all are existence under the law. Every religion or world-view, including an atheistic one, but also the Christianity that has been perverted from faith into a religious ideology – all have the common structure of the law. They are all one as against faith. For lex est negatio Christi.21

The concept of the law, having been expanded by the apostle Paul beyond the legal codifications of specific prohibitions, has now come to define existence of the curse, as that of humankind outside of faith in Christ. “Hence,” he writes, “even the so-called ‘man without the law’ is not outside the event of the law.”22 This is, argues Ebeling, the only way to understand why a “lawfree” Christianity would be important to both Jews and Gentiles. He argues that Paul’s theological treatment of the law, meaning his positioning of it in a dialectical relationship to the gospel with soteriological implications, is “in actual fact the only fundamental theological indication in the New Testament as to how the question of the use of the Old Testament in the church would have to be thought out.”23 This is not to minimize the importance of the Old Testament, but to make sure that it is rightly understood through the interpretive witness of the New Testament. Indeed, argues Ebeling, “the intention of the Pauline exegesis of the Old Testament is precisely to distinguish clearly and hold apart what in the Old Testament is confusingly mixed up together, namely, the distinction between law and gospel, between Moses and Abraham.”24 When this point was overlooked, attempts were made to preserve aspects of the law for use within early Christian churches, attempts that failed to grasp its soteriological function because they failed to appreciate its eschatological dimension as belonging to the distinction between two ages. Ebeling’s appreciation of this eschatological dimension is that it is not one of “mere temporal succession,” but rather “the difference of existence in two ages.”25 In other words, the life of faith in the fulfilled law does not rest, but lives out of an entirely new existence based upon the completed work of Christ; this is what Bayer means by “extrinsic being.”26 At this point, it is 19

Ibid., 253. Ibid., 263. 21 Ibid., 279. 22 Ibid., 278. 23 Ibid., 274. 24 Ibid. 25 Ibid., 280. 26 To the question in Ebeling concerning the relationship between a theological definition of man and a philosophical one, see Gerhard Ebeling, “Streit zwischen zwei 20

Saving Faith Alone

149

necessary to highlight the fact that, for Ebeling, this is no mere change in language, but the recognition that proper talk about the law and its killing function restores it to its proper relationship to the gospel, and thus protects its soteriological import. This conviction is an echo of the Apostle Paul’s admonition to the church in Galatia, “I do not nullify the grace of God, for if righteousness were through the law, then Christ died for nothing (δωρεὰν)” (Galatians 2:21). Ebeling argues that this lack of appreciation for the soteriological scope of the Pauline doctrine of the law allowed the moral precepts of the Decalogue to become synonymous in content with that of the “law written on the heart” and, consequently, became a situation where what human beings lacked was proper knowledge of the law under which they were held captive. This understanding leads inexorably to a concept of the gospel that is defined not as being different than the law, but as its culmination, and thus retains the overall structure of the legalistic system. Luther, writes Ebeling, did not do away with this concept of the “law written on the heart,” but because of his fundamental reorientation of the law as a soteriological concept, was able to ground it in the idea of the law in his doctrine of the conscience “in which it is not a case of registering what we know but of pointing to a claim made on us. . .”27 It is at this very point where the clearest ramification of Ebeling’s conception of the law is seen, because if the law is understood primarily as moral content, then the end of it would mean that morality is no longer valid or, as has more often been the case, there is a transition of the moral precepts to the gospel so that it becomes a nova Lex – a new law. For Ebeling, the end of the law comes when one is freed, by faith in Christ, from the power of the law in itself – as law – because the demands themselves are fulfilled by faith. What is now done by faith is, technically speaking, no longer law; nevertheless, since the greatest temptation is to admix the two, he cautions, “for the sake of the Gospel the law must come to expression, if the Gospel itself is not to be misunderstood as law.28 The non-eschatological view of the law, the one that views the human being on a continuum from successive emancipation from sin via grace, and makes a false distinction between the abrogation of the ceremonial but not the “moral,” Ebeling argues, is that which perpetuated the “abstract understanding of the law as a codex” and missed entirely the law’s soteriological funcDefinitionen des Menschen,” in Lutherstudien. Band II, Disputatio De Homine (Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr, 1977), 31–42. 27 Ebeling “Reflections,” 276. 28 Ibid., 281. See also Ebeling, “Signifigance,” 75, where he explains, “Law is therefore not an idea or an aggregate of principles, but the reality to fallen man . . . Lex is not lex vacua seu quiescens or the lex impleta, but by lex must always be understood the lex non impleta, and that means, the lex accusans, reos agens, exactrix and efficax. The eternal duration of the law even in futura vita is valid only ut res, non ut lex.”

150

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

tion. It is at this point that the misunderstanding of Paul’s soteriological reorientation of the role of the law paved the way for the arguments over antinomianism that would resurface in the 16th century and continue to this day, because when the law is understood primarily as moral content and only secondarily, if at all, as having a soteriological function, the gospel is that which derives its content from the law from either being that which fulfills it or transcends it. If, on the other hand, the soteriological function of the law is emphasized, then it derives its identity from the gospel, not the other way around, and, as such, is defined by what it is not, i.e., gospel in functional, not moral or ontological terms. This is why rumination and reflection on the law have been so important throughout the history of the churches of the Reformation, because, again following Luther, it has been maintained that only by understanding the law will one know the gospel; however, it is precisely at this point that one makes a determination that will have decisive significance for all theological reflection that follows, because “if the distinction of law and gospel were understood . . . as the difference of two kinds of doctrinal content, then the lawand-gospel terminology would in very truth involve a false interpretation of Paul.”29 Here we have come to the initial restructuring of Ebeling’s understanding of the Reformer’s use of Paul and, thus, the beginnings of his corrective. While it is true, notes Ebeling, that even though Augustine and Thomas Aquinas had variations of this distinction,30 “Paul never sets νόµος [Law] and εὐαγγέλιον [Gospel] directly over against each other or applies them as a dialectical formula in the matter of the Reformed usage familiar to us;”31 the Reformer’s formulation captures the “sharp contrast which Paul has in view,” by setting the two functions of the law and gospel in dialectical tension. This contrast does not lie at the level of doctrine, content or, as some have argued, grammar, but between two states “which determines absolutely the reality it affects . . . Whereas the law cannot give life, cannot bestow the Spirit, but on the contrary in fact kills, the new testament is the act of the life-giving Spirit

29

Ibid., 257. Ebeling argues that the distinction between law and gospel as understood by Luther and subsequent reformers is not present in the works of Augustine. Ebeling, “Reflections,” 255–256, writes, “The direct contrast of the concepts lex and evangelium, to the best of my knowledge, probably does not occur in Augustine at all; rather, alongside littera and spiritus he has lex and gratia, or lex operum and lex fidei. That is then also what determines scholastic usage, in which the antithesis of lex and evangelium plays no part, though we do have the distinction of lex and gratia, combined with the other distinction of lex vetus and lex nova or lex evangelica.” To this point, see again Paulson, “The Augustinian Imperfection.” 31 Ebeling, “Reflections,” 254. 30

Saving Faith Alone

151

himself.”32 In other words, the law and gospel are to be distinguished by their function, not their content, because central to Reformation theology, argues Ebeling, is that the Gospel imparts the Holy Spirit. And how does this principle of the reality of the καινὴ διαθήκη [new testament] come to fruition? Here Ebeling, echoing the Apostle Paul in Romans 10:17, puts the emphasis on the proclamation: “The καινὴ διαθήκη has its existence determined by the act of a proclamation whose absolute peculiarity, and therefore also its distinctive mark over against the law, is the power to awaken faith, to confer the Holy Spirit.”33 This is the crucial point, and the argument to which we have been building. This is the root cause of the errors of misunderstanding that have been the subject of the preceding chapters, namely that the relationship of law and gospel grasped in the distinction between contents of a reality or word, but in the distinguishing of the effects a reality or a word has. Words of law are those which further bind human beings to themselves, they are those which “increase the trespass” of sin, which is unbelief and that which forces autonomy, self-sufficiency, and self-creation; however, the gospel is that one, unique word, based on the story and promise of Christ, that alone provides the foundation which rests solely on the actions of another being from whom forgiveness, identity, security, and meaning is received. This is not a “change in perception,” because once faith is awakened by the Gospel, then that signals the end of the previous life of unbelief, which then inaugurates the life of the now-believer into an entirely new concrete relationship with his or her world. This is the argument that those advocating for an emendation of the distinction between law and gospel do not fully appreciate: the distinction protects the clear exposition of law as law and gospel as gospel so that both the death dealing function of the law and the life giving message of the gospel can be most clearly heard. Faith, in this respect, is the confidence that comes from having been set free, from having been turned outside of oneself and given identity in and by another. At this point, the “ontological” significance of this distinction is highlighted, because law and gospel designate two competing ways of being, either bound or free, and this is the consistent usage that we find in “the Reformers’ employment of evangelium as an antithesis to Lex,” as Ebeling argues, because they wanted to ensure that the “effective principle” of the New Testament, its soteriological import, would not be lost.34 Because of this expansion of the concepts of law and gospel, there exist significant differences between the Reformer’s usage of the terms and that of the Apostle Paul. This is an observation that has ramifications for our previ32 33 34

Ibid., 257. Ibid., 258. Ibid., 257–258.

152

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

ous discussion about the “New Perspective.” Ebeling is not arguing that the Apostle Paul is somehow mistaken in his application of these concepts, but that the Reformers learned from Paul a way of doing theology along with this distinction between law and gospel that is methodologically similar, even if at points they go beyond his precise formulations. For example, Ebeling notes how the letters to the Galatians and Romans are methodically and theologically similar, but materially different based upon different presenting concerns. Therefore, he can write that the difference between the way in which the Apostle Paul used the concept of the law and the Reformers, “could be defined by saying that the concepts law and gospel are largely stripped of the concrete historical references they bear in Paul and made into hard and fast general basic concepts of theology, so that they find a more universal application than in Paul.”35 This is not to discount the materia legis, but should drive theology – along the lines set forth by the Apostle Paul – to use the distinction between law and gospel in its critical function to expose areas of sin, i.e., unbelief masquerading as the gospel. Here we have the basis for the complaint from modern exegetes who argue that the severity of Luther’s distinction is not supported by Paul. However, as Ebeling will argue, this is not necessarily the case, because, as is evidenced in secular conceptions of the law, there is a difference between the concept of the law in its historical situation and its theological function. In what follows, Ebeling’s prescient observations foresee and address the developments of the following 50 years. He writes, “the difference most likely to strike us between the Pauline concept of the Law and that of the Reformers is, that by νόµος Paul normally understands the Torah, whereas the Reformers’ doctrine of the law strictly means the law which concerns every man as man.”36 And, he continues, “Although it is tempting simply to note the differences in chronology – that Paul takes his bearings primarily on the situation of the Jews, and the Reformation on the situation of non-Jews,” he rejects this line of historical reductionism. For Ebeling, the Reformers’ take their distinction between law and gospel not from the specific situation within which Paul was writing, but rather, model the way in which he was structuring his arguments. Paul, argues Ebeling, uses his exegesis of the Old Testament “precisely to distinguish clearly and hold apart what in the Old Testament is confusingly mixed up together: the line deriving from Abraham and the line deriving from Moses, the εὐαγγέλιον and νόµος, the πίστις and ἔργον.”37 These lines, observes Ebeling, are the major thrust of Paul’s arguments in Romans and Galatians, respectively.

35 36 37

Ibid., 261. Ibid., 262. Ibid., 266.

Creation as Address

153

Of particular importance for our contemporary discussion concerning the “works of the law,” is the fact that Ebeling argues that Paul “takes nothing at all to do with the typical late Judaistic phenomenon of legalistic, casuistic interpretation of the law.”38 For him, this means that Paul’s antipathy to the law has nothing to do with it leading to legalism even though, as has been shown, he would have been fully aware of such legalistic variants within the Second Temple Judaism of his day.39 Put simply, Ebeling is arguing that those who see Paul’s problem with the law as promoting “legalism” are not properly interpreting Paul, for his concept of the law as a first century Jew would have been markedly different than that found not only among the writers of the Old Testament, but even among different conceptions within the Judaisms of his day.40 This lack of consensus, both historical and contemporary, was not an issue to Paul, argues Ebeling, because Paul now perceives the whole of the Mosaic Law as constitutive of a theological structure in ipse that is now set against the gospel, and that theological structure is such that law becomes a concept that is constitutive of the state of fallen humanity, and when so conceived, everything in heaven and on earth becomes a means by which the law is ever accusing.

C. Creation as Address As we have argued, the distinction between law and gospel protects the human pretension to self-justification by centering theological discussion on the relationship between the sinful human and the justifying God. This conceptual limitation, far from resulting in an escape from the created world, brings the relationship between creature and creator back into proper alignment; however, until the gospel brings new life, then the life of the law in the world of the creation becomes part of its very accusation. Human beings under the law are forced to hew meaning and purpose out of the very world of which 38

Ibid., 266. See Carson et al., Justification and Variegated Nomism Vol 1 & 2, for an in-depth study of the 2nd Temple literature, and for a look particularly at the Apostle Paul, notably, the essay by Mark Seifrid, “Paul's Use of Righteousness Language Against its Hellenistic Background,” 39–74. 40 To this entire point in Ebeling’s exegetical work, see Gerhard Ebeling, The Truth of the Gospel: An Exposition of Galatians, trans. David Green (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1985), 193, where he writes of the need to have a “whole-Bible” approach to the theological understanding of the law, saying, “Only from the perspective of Scripture as a whole can the question of the law's function be answered. The divine ordinance that the existence of sin establishes a universal imprisonment under the power of sin, so that sin becomes a prison, constitutes the framework within which the role of the law must be interpreted.” 39

154

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

they are a part and, thus, reveals the inextricable tension of the life of the human being as a creature accused by virtue of the givennness of their existence within the very creation of which they are a part.41 When so conceived, then sinful human existence outside of the gospel is what Bayer calls “nothing but the histories of the seeking, enforcing, denying, or lacking of mutual recognition,”42 and can be thus seen as one enduring “dispute of Justifications.” Consequently, referencing John Locke, Bayer writes that “life is a forensic term,” one that is determined by the judgments levied both from within and without. Because of sin, under the law humans are condemned to a life of autopoiesis – self-creation – by which they must engender their own worthiness at the expense of self and others, and the created order becomes the haunting address of the unknown god. Citing both the prologue to the Gospel of John and Romans 1, he notes that the argument of both maintains that God is able to be recognized and worshiped, but because of sin, “The spoken word is not heard; the bestowed light is not seen and the life, given to all, is mistaken. The entire creation is engulfed by this disobedience of man, dragged into this blindness and mistakenness.”43 Consequently: The communication originally established by the triune God has now been corrupted. Hands opened to receive what is given and extended to pass on what has been received, are now clenched into fists. The search for identity, the search of the human who seeks his or her own in all things, leads inevitably to a terrifyingly perfect circle, in which the self is captive to itself. The circle constricts the self tightly, letting it suffocate; but simultaneously, the sickness is not unto death. In its self-captivity, the self-tortures itself eternally.44

This is the default existence of self-justification before the tribunal of the world, which exemplifies, for Bayer, why life can be considered constituted by the doctrine of justification by faith both negatively and positively. Negatively, because in the “dispute of justifications,” without a definitive and conclusive external word of positive judgment, the only enduring word is 41

To this entire question, see the very helpful study by Schaeffer, Createdness and Ethics. Also, see Oswald Bayer “Schöpfungslehre als Rechtfertigungsontologie,” in Word– Gift–Being, eds. Bo Kristian Holm and Peter Widman (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009): 17–43. In this volume, the contributors reflect in various ways on the relationship between the concepts of “gift”and “giver,” with respect to ontology as a continuation of the discussion to which this entire project is a part. Bayer, for his part, continues to emphasize the relationship between the experiences of the created world as “categorical gift,”only by faith in the gospel of God’s justification of the ungodly. Accordingly, he begins with a statement that can be understood as representing his entire program, “’Schöpfung’ ist kein Einzellocus der christlichen Dogmatik, sonder ihr Gesamtthema” (17). This conviction underlies what is to follow in this section. 42 . Bayer, Living by Faith, 4. 43 Bayer, “The Doctrine of Justification and Ontology,” 48. 44 Ibid., 48.

Creation as Address

155

that which comes by default, i.e., death. “Facing this tribunal,” he writes, “we are always called upon to legitimate our existence. We have to demonstrate each moment that we deserve to exist, to be noted, addressed, welcomed, and honored, even if it is by contradiction.”45 Building upon this conception of self-justification, it is clear why Bayer can place such an emphasis on the doctrine of justification from a theological perspective, because into the “dispute of Justifications,” comes the preaching of the gospel whereby one “is created anew and has his identity permanently outside himself, in another, a stranger: in one who has replaced him in a wondrous change and exchange of human sin and divine justice (Gal. 2:19 cf., 2 Cor. 5:21).”46 When the nature of human existence is defined as such, then the distinction between law and gospel is understood as being constitutive of the entire relationship between God and humans and seen as the “point” of Paul’s polemical “word of the Cross.”47 Therefore, there is no aspect of human existence – theologically conceived – that is not constituted by the doctrine of justification by faith because, as he writes, the very question of God is one concerning justification. Bayer explains: When the article on justification, as suggested in this tractate, is understood in a sense so broad and deep as to encompass even creation and the eschaton, then it does not suffice to speak of this article merely as the articulus stantis et cadentis ecclesiae, the article upon which the church stands or falls. It is the being of the world and its relation to God that hinge upon justification. Creatio ex nihilo (creation out of nothing), the basis of the Jewish and Christian doctrine of creation, is to be understood in terms of the theology of justification – and vice versa . . . When this ontological significance of justification is grasped, then it becomes clear that justification is neither merely an event in the interior of the believer nor one among many ways to express what Christian faith is about.48

For Bayer, since the subject of theology proper concerns the justifying God and the sinful human, then it stands that the original act of God, i.e., creation itself, would center around justification by faith, because faith is nothing less than ascribing to God that which he is due; however, where there is unfaith, there is no proper worship. Consequently, an “ontology of the Word,” recognizes these primary means by which God addresses his creatures as his creation.49 Bayer explains: “Since creation establishes and preserves community, it is a dialogue between the God who speaks and the creatures who answer him freely.”50 Indeed, this idea of creation as a form of communication, a

45

Bayer, Living by Faith, 10. Bayer “The Doctrine of Justification and Ontology,” 47. 47 See 1 Cor. 1:18 48 Bayer, Living by Faith, xiii–xiv. 49 See Gustaf Wingren, Creation and Law, trans. Ross Mackenzie (Philadelphia: Muhlenberg Press, 1961). 50 Bayer, Martin Luther's Theology, 101. 46

156

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

speech act,51 is the major premise of Oswald Bayer’s appropriation of the insights of Johann Georg Hamann, and the impetus behind his collection of essays in Schöpfung als Anrede. In the essay entitled “Schöpfung als ‘Rede an die Kreatur durch die Kreatur,’” he comments on Hamman’s analogy concerning the difference between natural and revealed religion as that between looking through the eyes of an untrained person gazing upon a portrait and the eyes of the painter himself, commenting: God reveals himself through all the creation, speaks through nature and history to us, that we would know him through the work of his creation (Roman 1.19f). It is not that there is nothing for human beings to see! But the human does not have the eyes to see what has been revealed. It is not that there is nothing to hear; the world is not dumb! ‘The heavens declare God’s majesty’ (Ps 19.2). But the human ear is blocked. It must be opened. It must first be miraculously healed. Only then can the world as creation be heard.52

In other words, the constant address by creation to unfaith is uncertainty and death, but it is heard as the pronouncement of a gift by God himself to his creatures to those of faith in Christ. What this means in terms of the distinction between law and gospel is that the voice of creation, i.e., the “unknown God,” speaks with one clear and unified voice of our mortality and finitude; therefore, it is one that, without a counter-point, is necessarily a one note of “uncertainty and death.” When the message of the gospel is preached into this uncertainty as a word of promise – and that promise is believed – then that which was materially the same, i.e., the ultimate finitude of life, is nevertheless rendered impotent, because the uncertainty has been removed. This is the “miracle of healing.” However, before this miracle of healing takes place, this world, argues Bayer, devoid of faith, “will be experienced as a ‘fearful natural realm,” as a relentlessly necessary, oppressive law. If the world is not believed to be that which is promised, then it becomes, as Nietzsche aptly observed, “a thousand deserts, mute and cold.’”53 This is no overstatement, but a diagnosis of a world that is not godless, but inhabited by a one-note god of the law. The concept of a meaningless world experienced with Nietzsche and in the existentialist philosophy is the world of the law, and is conceived by persons understanding themselves according to the law. Bayer’s point is this: even

51

That Bayer is heavily indebted to J. L. Austin's “speech act theory” has been well documented. See J. L. Austin, How to Do Things with Words (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1962), 145–149; and Mattes, “Promissio as God's Speech-Act,” in The Role of Justification, 101–116. 52 Bayer, Schöpfung Als Anrede: Zu einer Hermeneutik der Schöpfung (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1986), 11. 53 Ibid., 102.

Creation as Address

157

when one does not believe in the existence of God, he or she experience him in the way of his law and his wrath. The healing of the world, on the contrary, occurs as a logical corollary of actually believing in the existence of God as preached in the gospel, which – by default – reveals that the law is not the only word. As Luther saw, through the accretions of the Medieval penitential system, works and human piety can be a subtle (or not-so subtle) result of an underlying atheism;54 however, when God is believed in, then he is worshiped as the creator, and when that creator is known as the “justifier of the ungodly,” then the worship takes the form of a confession, i.e., “I believe that God has created me and all that exists; that he has given me . . .” This is, however, something that must be believed, a confession of faith held in the face of Anfechtung, and not a matter of fact. Forde explains: It is not a matter of course to look on our world as ‘creation,’ especially not as a creation out of nothing (ex nihilo). The doctrine of creation has, we should never forget, always been considered a revealed doctrine, not part of our ‘natural’ knowledge. Belief in creation is a faithful way of receiving and relating to the world. . . . [correspondingly] faith in creation, as all faith, is held only in the face of temptation.55

The law exacerbates this temptation, or Anfechtung, in a very concrete, physical way, because, put quite simply, “the wages of sin is death” (Rm. 6:23).56 This is why creation is not so much silent as it is disturbing, and finally condemning, because it seems to speak only one final word; however, this address from God, in the form of the “law of sin and death” (Rm. 8:2), is directly confronted by the word of the gospel. It is worth noting at this point that the charge of linguistic “abstraction” we’ve encountered in previous objections to theology so conceived minimizes the power of words both spoken 54

See the discussion under “God Hardened Pharaoh’s Heart,” in Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology, 112–116. 55 Forde, Theology Is for Proclamation, 144–145. On page 145, he cites Luther, “For without doubt the highest article of faith is that which when say “I believe in God the Father, almighty creator of heaven and earth, and whoever rightly believes that is already helped and set right and brought back to that from which Adam fell. But those who come to the point of fully believing that he is the God who creates and makes all thing are few, because such a person must be dead to all things, to good and evil, death and life, hell and heaven, and must confess from the heart that he can do nothing out of his own strength.” WA 24, 18, 26–33. 56 To the way in which this operates from a psychological perspective, cf., Ernst Becker The Denial of Death (New York: Free Press, 1973), ix; His book presents a powerful and harrowing study of human psychology in light of the awareness of ultimate mortality. As he states in the opening pages, “the idea of death, the fear of it, haunts the human animal like nothing else; it is a mainspring of human activity – activity designed largely to avoid the fatality of death, to overcome it by denying in some way that it is the final destiny for man.”

158

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

and unspoken. The silent void of space speaks fear into the heart of humans in the same way the word of the gospel brings comfort and peace. This is how the doctrine of Creation is understood as an outworking of the distinction between law and gospel, because in the proclamation of the Gospel as “categorical promise,” the impasse between what Hans Schaeffer calls, “the main dilemma within theology, either to think of a creation without Creator (pure immanence) or a Creator without creation (extreme transcendence)”57 is overcome, because in the proclamation that God was “in Christ, reconciling the world to himself” (2 Cor. 5:18-19) we are given a picture that unites our experience of creation, i.e., suffering and death, with the external word of a transcendent God. However, this message of the gospel, as we have noted, in light of the continued existence of suffering and death, means that the cross is no mere analogy to our own lives, but that which must be endured in the midst of Anfechtung – in the face of death – by faith. This faith, argues Forde, the one that confesses “faith in God the creator and thus the receiving of creation as sheer gift,” nevertheless, “comes by dying and being raised. It is a new creation out of nothing.”58 Here we are brought back to the emphasis on righteousness being imputed by faith, created ex nihilo, because contra the metaphysicians who want to tie the concept of faith to a necessarily transformative, participationist ontology, it is the very nature of the doctrine of justification by faith to emphasize that gulf between Creator and creature that has only been traversed by one man on a cross. Grace, says the doctrine of justification by faith alone, is not a substance infused in order to remove sin by degree but, rather, is the power of God to bring the dead to life. According to Forde, “The problem was and still is that we work with the wrong paradigm, the wrong theological anthropology. The sinner is not changed. Rather, the sinner must die to be made new. The paradigm is death and resurrection, not just changing the qualities of a continuously existing subject.”59 At this point, however, we run the danger of slipping into the very abstraction and metaphoric language that simply substitutes one metaphor of transitus, i.e., vice to virtue, with another, death to life. But we have already addressed this in part, seeing as how the “ontological shift” and the metaphor of “new being” is tied to being externally constituted by another who is not me, and it is from this identity that I now “live, and move, and have my being” (Acts 17:28). The abstraction in this construction – given the promised reality of death – is only in light of the promise of the Gospel does the one so condemned nevertheless find life. In this respect, the entire Christian faith could be considered an abstraction but for the actual transformative power it has on the lived lives of those whose faith in the 57 58 59

Schaeffer, Createdness and Ethics, 141. Forde, Theology Is for Proclamation, 145. Ibid., 161.

Verbum Externum

159

promise of the gospel has reconstituted them. Nevertheless, it is to this question of abstraction in theology that we now turn.

D. Verbum Externum In an essay entitled “Karl Barth on the Consequences of Lutheran Christology,” Forde addresses the “Limits of Dogmatics” with the question, “How can dogmatic Christianity secure the field against the twin problems of abstraction and subjectivism?” He answers: It cannot – at least not in and of itself. Because dogmatics is abstraction and abstraction is always the subject’s activity – or even its way of salvation if one is not careful! My thesis is that only proclamation, the actual doing of the divine deed in the living present throughout preaching and the sacraments, can do that. What theology has to do is to recognize the dogmatic significance of the move to proclamation and to foster it. It must recognize that the concrete deed of proclamation is itself the solution to it problems.60

But what is the content of this proclamation? If, as Forde argues, dogmatic theological statements can become ways whereby people protect themselves from the reality of God, then what type of proclamation ensures that God is being communicated in a non-abstract way? In order to avoid this pitfall, we must return to our previous discussion of extrinsic ontology and what Holl called “self-judgement” (Selbstgericht), because this is where the external word – the verbum externum – of the law and gospel preached evokes a confession of having been externally constituted by someone else, and necessarily so. This is the dynamic that Forde calls “death to life,” because it is predicated on an initial negative judgment on one’s own person and his or her ability for self-constitution. This judgment is an end, of sorts, to the self and, as such, is considered a “death.” But in Forde, this is operative at an even deeper level than that of a changed self-awareness. In order to understand how Forde works with these concepts, we need to turn to his article on absolution, because if the subject of theology is the sinful human and the justifying God, then the proclamation of God’s forgiveness in Christ, i.e., that by which God becomes the justifier61 of the sinful, becomes the absolute claim of God on the world.62 In this way, the external word of God’s absolution claims a relationship to the world that is constituted solely of sinners being justified, and this self-judgment, this reception of absolution, is, conversely, a confession of oneself as being just that sinner; thus, we see that the paradigm shift from death to life begins with the selfjudgment. “The only solution to the problem of the absolute,” writes Forde, 60 61 62

Forde, “Karl Barth,” 77. Rom. 3:26. Mark 2:7, Luke 5:21.

160

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

“is absolution.”63 He can say this on account of his belief that the freedom to self-identify as that person against whom the totality of the accusation of the law is directed can only occur when the promised pardon is secured outside of oneself by the death and resurrection of Christ on his or her behalf. Consequently, when this confession is secured, this self-attribution becomes the basis for life lived extrinsically by faith in Christ. This faith, writes Forde, is that which is “born of the imputation of total righteousness,” and “will see the truth of the human condition, the reality and persistence of human sin; it will see that concupiscence indeed remains and that it is sin, but that God nevertheless does business with sinners.”64 In his remarkable essay entitled “Romans 7: The Voice of the Law,” Mark Seifrid explains: We are not called to progress in ourselves away from Christ but to progress in Christ away from ourselves – away from the fallen reality that determines us as children of Adam. All progress is a return to the beginning of the Christian life, where it enters more deeply into the wonder of God’s love in Christ in the face of our sin and misery. The “flesh” can neither be reformed nor rehabilitated. It must be crucified.65

This crucifixion of self begins and ends by the confession of oneself as one to whom the mercies of God have been justly shown. This is not an ephemeral, disembodied life, but the concrete one in which the person lives. This is where an emphasis on the imputed righteousness of Christ reveals its connection to reality as it is actually experienced. Theological systems that rest on a transition from vice to virtue can force the believer into what Seifrid calls “the perversity of introspection”66 where a believer is forced to examine his or her own progress along the road of progressive emancipation of vice to virtue as verification of the veracity of the gospel without the hope that comes from the proclamation that whatever is discovered along that road can be confessed, absolved, and forgotten. This type of theologizing, far from opening up the world as the gracious gift of God’s creative activity, necessitates an inward looking self-absorption away from creation and towards the self. “Such a scheme,” writes Forde: Has the consequence of making the grace of the Spirit a mysterious ‘behind the scenes’ influencing of our choices. One is then driven inward upon oneself. If the proper choice does not seem forthcoming, one can draw either of two conclusions. Either one has

63

Ibid., 155. Ibid., 285. 65 Seifrid, “Romans 7,” 131. 66 Ibid., 114. This type of system, argues Seifrid, “is doomed to failure from the start. The law tells us a story about ourselves that we are unable to tell and unwilling to hear. It carries us on the 'journey to hell of self–knowledge' – and in the knowledge of Christ back from there to heaven itself.” 64

Verbum Externum

161

frustrated grace by one’s own failure or God has simply refused to give it. One is usually generous enough not to suspect God of such perfidy and so takes the blame on oneself.67

And so we can see in this type of system – one predicated upon a system of progressive emancipation from vice to virtue rather than faith alone in the unmerited and total justification of God for Christ’s sake – an inability to proclaim the promised freedom from sin for which Christ came. This reality of the existence of sin in the life of the regenerate – concupiscence68 – is a difficult point for those for whom grace is the infused power to expurgate sin. However, when grace is understood as the action of God to bring faith out of unfaith, life out of death, then, Forde writes: The mark of having been grasped by such grace would be quite the opposite: the confession of being a sinner saved by grace alone, by the unconditional gift of the Triune God. The new and absolute gift reveals the old to be completely lost and fallen – simultaneously. Sin is truly recognized both its depth and in its ultimate powerlessness in the moment of its overcoming. Such a faith would also be protected from Manichaean dualism and pessimism. That the Creator has preserved his creation in spite of the fall and sin will appear precisely as the miracle for which prayer, praise, and thanksgiving are due.69

This is why the Orthodox and Finnish Lutheran conception of theosis, while seemingly amenable to Luther’s insistence on the presence of Christ in the believer, ultimately devalues the power of faith, because it fails to understand the confidence within which a sinner could stand qua sinner, before God; this faith, therefore, would not establish the divinity of the person, but their very humanity as homo peccator. This act of self-attribution is according to the external word of law and gospel whereby Christ and his justice are grasped as not only being for me, but necessarily so.70 Therefore, the concept of Christ 67

Forde, Theology is For Proclamation, 147. See LW 25:261. Of concupiscence, Luther writes, “I have never understood, or else the scholastic theologians have not spoken sufficiently clearly about sin and grace, for they have been under the delusion that original sin, like actual sin, is entirely removed, as if these were items that can be entirely removed in the twinkling of an eye, as shadows before a light, although the ancient fathers Augustine and Ambrose spoke entirely differently and in the way Scripture does. But those men speak in the manner of Aristotle in his Ethics, when he bases sin and righteousness on works, both their performance or omission. But blessed Augustine says very clearly that ‘sin, or concupiscence, is forgiven in Baptism, not in the sense that it no longer exists, but in the sense that it is not imputed.’” 69 Forde, Theology Is for Proclamation, 292. 70 See LW 26:447, “This does not mean that the conscience does not feel the terrors of the law at all. Of course it feels them. But it means that the conscience cannot be condemned and brought to the point of despair by such things. For “there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 8:1); again: “If the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed” (John 8:36). Regardless of how terrified the Christian is by the law and how much he acknowledges his sin, he does not despair; for he believes in Christ, into whom he has been baptized and through whom he has the forgiveness of sins.” 68

162

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

and his justice is transformed into the confession: I am justified through Christ. This is faith, and in this way Christ is present in the believer. Here, we have returned to the difficult subject of the nature of what is “real” with respect to the presence of Christ in the believer. As we have discussed, one of the criticisms of the doctrine of justification by faith alone so conceived here is that it does not allow for a sort of what the Finnish Lutherans wanted to call a “real-ontic” presence of Christ. However, what we are arguing here is that anything that has the power externally to constitute a human being in any particular way, either in the way of the law or the gospel, must, by that functional sense, be understood as just as “real” as any other such claims. Christ is present by faith in the believer in the very real sense that the believer is externally constituted by such faith and, as such, is made righteous before God by this faith. This is the real presence of Christ that silences the Anfechtung of life under the law and raises the dead to an entirely new life of faith. And, as we have noted above in our discussion of Ebeling and the “historic Jesus,” this is not a gospel message that can be abstracted from the historic situation upon which it stands, because the historic situation of one’s own finite life can only be addressed by a gospel promise equally as historic. Therefore, when we talk of the “presence of Christ,” far from becoming like God, i.e., divinized, we are, by faith, returned to the position of being a creature, “like man,” one who “works.” This faith gives back life as it was intended to be shared, and sustains the believer with the conviction that creation – most particularly the creation of the individual believer – is a gift from the hand of the creator God. The relationship of this type of understanding of the “presence of Christ” to the distinction between law and gospel is this: nothing must be added to “faith” somehow to buttress a claim that Christ is actually present. The faith that confesses Christ as being present can only do so by faith that has been awakened by the preaching of the gospel through the power of the Holy Spirit. There is no need for additional security added to the acceptance of the promise, because the right confession of God establishes the person in the right relationship to him, thereby constituting that person in the ex-centric identity of Christ on his or her behalf. Since the law “of sin and death” continues to preach, since it continues to torment even the believer, it must be diligently distinguished from that word of the gospel that promises, without exception, the “presence of Christ” by faith to all who so confess and believe. This very understanding of the power of faith to reconstitute a person and so change the direction of their lives with respect to God was part of Luther’s Reformation insight into the power of the gospel. When God is recognized rightly as the “God who justifies,” and when by faith one can confess the one “who created heaven and earth,” then the “work of the law” has been done, because the rebellion against the Creator has been quelled and one is free to live as the passive receiver of the life-giving God.

Verbum Externum

163

In his essay, “The Future of Lutheran Theology,” Scott Hendrix explains this concept of the vita passiva – the passive life – describes the way in which the “direction and practice of Christian life” underwent a “fundamental change” in Luther: Luther moved believers from a self-serving individual piety (the wrong kind of good works) to a public neighbor-serving devotion (the right kind of good works). That innovation was made possible by his particular concept of justification by faith in Christ alone, but not merely as a doctrine or an end in itself. For Luther, justification was not the reward of pious Christian living. Justification – becoming right with God through faith in Christ – was instead the secure foundation and power source of Christian living. Instead of wasting their energy on religious efforts to please God, believers, secure in their faith, could devote their energy to the realms of relationships, public service, and ministry.71

This is the vita passiva that relies on the promise of God by faith alone for justification and, by extension, sees the entire world as a gift. This view can only be confessed and believed, not asserted or stated as fact, because this side of the eschaton, it remains an article of faith. Bayer writes: The teaching about creation cannot reflect the world as creation in an immediate way; one must remember there is brokenness: the breakdown and the new creation. Sin has distorted communication between God and the human being, between God and the world; it has in fact corrupted it. Thus one ought not to fear that Luther’s teaching about creation will transfigure the world as it now stands. It is marked by courage for living that destroys and overpowers the alternatives of optimism and pessimism, passion for the world and fleeing from the world.72

It is at this point where the pastoral implications for an “ontology of the word” come into stark relief, because we see in the “presence of Christ” in the believer a similar dynamic to that which we see in the sacraments, which are no-less important to theologies conceived in light of the distinction between law and gospel; however, we must remember that the word “ontology” has been redefined and shorn of metaphysical connotations, but nevertheless is a description of something equally as real. If sin and grace are to be understood in a material way, then the existence of fear and unbelief this side of heaven is cause for deep distress; however, when the Christian life is understood as an entrance into this very type of fear, one that experiences an oscillation between faith and unbelief, which constitutes the Anfechtung against which we struggle, then the battle lines are drawn much differently. In the former system, the arena of struggle was an internal struggle that fought for assurances from within, whereas in the latter, the assurance comes from the external word of promise. “The fact that we are saved by faith alone must not be taken to mean that we are saved by reliance on our own inner resources alone,” writes Forde. “Faith must have something 71 72

Scott H. Hendrix, “The Future of Luther's Theology,” Dialog 47, no. 2 (2008): 130. Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology, 116.

164

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

to believe, something to which it may cling and upon which it may stand!”73 This distinction, as we will see, has profound ramifications for the understanding of the work and role of the sacraments as visible words. When the law is properly distinguished from the gospel, then the sacraments become essential elements of the gospel proclamation. In an essay entitled, “Preaching the Sacraments,” Forde argues that Luther’s problem with the Medieval Catholic doctrine of the sacrament “was not the alienness as such, the objectivity, the from-withoutness. The problem, Luther always said, was that the medieval tradition did not give proper place to faith as the only possible aim of and receptacle for what sacraments have to give.”74 When so viewed, the sacraments become the point at which the new creation of God by faith, i.e., the redeemed sinner, is created in the same way that “Christ is present by faith in the believer,” namely, that trust in the promise that God is for you exists. For both Bayer and Forde, the appreciation of the sacraments does not rest on their connection with a particular manifestation of the visible church but, rather, with the proper articulation of exactly what they are, namely, the proclamation of the promise of the gospel, the justifying God being given in mercy to sinners. The outworking of this relationship can be found, according to Bayer, throughout the argumentation of Luther’s De captivitate. In this treatise, Bayer argues, Luther: Depicts the life of a Christian as at the time of repentance, which involves being bound once upon a time to the baptismal promise given in the past, which is preserved continually – by the promissio – of the Lord’s Supper. The unique moment of the Word is thus created with the help that comes from both directions, from baptism and from the Lord’s Supper. In this moment, the once-for-all-time nature of the promise carries with it the assumption that newly articulated promises are not able to surpass it. The unique nature of the first promise in baptism is reinforced every time one goes back to the baptism in the Lord’s Supper.75

73

Forde, Theology is for Proclamation, 161–162. Forde, “Preaching the Sacraments,” in The Preached God, 106. This argument is expounded by Philip Carey in an article entitled, “Why Luther is not Quite Protestant: The Logic of Faith in a Sacramental Promise,” Pro Ecclesia 14/4 (Fall 2005): 452, where he argues the “sacramental character” of the gospel in Luther “depends on a Catholic notion of sacramental efficacy, which places salvific power in external things. Without such a notion Protestantism cannot sustain Luther's insistence on putting faith in the external word alone, but must rely also on faith itself (i.e., on the fact that I believe) as a ground of assurance, especially in the face of anxieties about predestination.” It will be argued shortly that his appreciation is almost right with respect to the efficacy of the sacrament, but its connection to the logic behind the “Catholic notion of sacramental efficacy” is dramatically different when compared to one based upon a theology of justification by faith alone. 75 Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology, 57. Reinhard Hütter has characterized this type of thinking, and Bayer's specifically, as an “implied ecclesiology,” which is, he laments, not “thick enough.” In Hütter, Suffering, 70, he writes, “The strength of Bayer's concept of 74

Verbum Externum

165

For Bayer, the work of the church is to proclaim the promise of the gospel in word and sacrament and, thereby, uphold people in their new lives of faith, by faith. This again brings us back to the profound discontinuity between the life of unfaith and faith, death and life, law and gospel, which must be appreciated in order to maintain the radical nature of the gospel proclamation. If justification is by degrees, infusion, theosis or anything other than faith alone, then the external word as unconditional promise is not only threatened, but actually turned back into the law. Only when the gospel – whose content is the very promise of God’s absolute and unconditional pardon in Christ76 – is proclaimed in both word and sacrament as the same promissio, as the external word – verbum externum – with the confidence that it will create its own hearers, will the law and gospel be rightly distinguished, because all other escape routes for self-justification will be blocked except the one provided for by God himself, i.e., himself. Clearly, far from denigrating the sacraments, this conception of preaching simply elevates the sermon to the level of the sacraments and sees them as a unified address.77 Forde explains: theology is its concentration on the pathos of theology; in contradistinction to Lindbeck, he develops a theologically explicit and concrete understanding of that pathos from the perspective of the concept of promissio, and articulates it with respect to its roots in worship and its ecclesial task as a communicative form of judgment. Unfortunately, the mostly implicit ecclesiology in his proposal weakens this strength in a disturbing way.” This weakness is, by his estimation, that “Bayer's interpretation does not really offer any comprehensive ‘thick’ reading of ‘On the Councils and Churches,’” it, “does not address each mark on its own and articulate their performance or relation to the ordained office; when he then refers to Luther's disputation thesis ‘ubi est verbum, ibi est ecclesia,’ however, his interpretation inevitably must be understood as saying that wherever the word is, so also is the church, whereby ‘church’ then remains abstract and formless. . .” (76). This critique reveals a disagreement over the power of the Word to create its own hearers and, thereby, it's own church – of whatever thickness. 76 See The Episcopal Church, Book of Common Prayer, (New York, Church Publishing, 1979), 334, where, not incidentally, this is the clarity sought for in the earliest Anglican liturgical formularies where Archbishop Cranmer instructs the minister to pray: “All glory be to thee, Almighty God, our heavenly Father, for that thou, of thy tender mercy, didst give thine only Son Jesus Christ to suffer death upon the cross for our redemption; who made there, by his one oblation of himself once offered, a full, perfect, and sufficient sacrifice, oblation, and satisfaction, for the sins of the whole world. . .” See also Paul F. M. Zahl, The Protestant Face of Anglicanism (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1998), who argues, quite persuasively, of the evangelistic character of Cranmer's liturgy, based as it is on the proclamation of law and gospel. Also, Samuel Leuenberger, Archbishop Cranmer's Immortal Bequest: The Book of Common Prayer of the Church of England: An Evangelistic Liturgy (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1990); and Null, Thomas Cranmer’s Doctrine of Repentance. 77 See Ebeling, “The Significance,” 37, where, although he argues that sola fide is in some sense anti–clerical, he nevertheless writes, “The church of the Word also has sacraments. It, too, has an ordered ministry. It, too, takes over a part of the primitive

166

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

Without sacramental character, the Word degenerates into information about which the continuously existing old being is supposed to do something. Similarly, without the unconditional promise, sacraments degenerate into conveyors of mysterious power which are supposed to shore up the continuously existing old being’s enterprises. Pelagianism threatens in both instances. In short, vital proclamation depends on the unity of Word and Sacrament, the sacramental character of the preached Word.78

But what is this “sacramental character”? It is that character by which the promise of the gospel is grasped as true and real in the heart of those who have heard it preached. Like the power of the law, the “sacramental” power of the gospel is seen in its functional movements to silence Anfechtung, to remove someone from under the “curse of the law,” into the light of the promise of God pro nobis, and the sacrament is efficacious when the hearer counts his or herself among the nobis. When understood in relation to the human being’s self-confession as sinner, this “sacramental character” of the preached Word operates in a performative way, in the physical reception of the preached word of absolution. This acceptance of God’s forgiveness, his justification of sinners – which is the content of the message of the gospel – simultaneously establishes the identity of both human and God. Luther describes this relationship in his small catechism under section VI: The Sacrament of the Altar: What is the benefit of such eating and drinking? Answer: We are told in the words “for you” and “for the forgiveness of sin.” By these words the forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation are given to us in the sacrament, for where there is forgiveness of sins, there are also life and salvation. How can bodily eating and drinking produce such great effects? Answer: The eating and drinking do not in themselves produce them, but the words “for you” and “for the forgiveness of sins.” These words, when accompanied by the bodily eating and drinking, are the chief thing in the sacrament, and he who believes these words has what they say and declare: the forgiveness of sins.79

As Luther explains, as the proclamation of both law and gospel, the claim upon a sinner that he or she is in need of forgiveness, a claim that is explicitly stated in the words of Jesus’s institution of the Lord’s Supper according to the Gospel of Matthew “for the forgiveness of sins,” is that which establishes a means by which this true reality of the human as the justified sinner can be established by faith. For Forde and Bayer, the distinction between law and gospel provides the necessary structure within which the entire enterprise of “church” can be understood, namely, in that it is to be a place where the proclamation of the gospel, i.e., the forgiveness of sins that was obtained by the

church tradition. It, too, exists in historical community.” How this is understood and manifested in the “church of the word” will be discussed below. 78 Forde, Theology Is for Proclamation, 149. 79 Tappert, The Book of Concord, 352.

Verbum Externum

167

mercy of God in Christ, can and is proclaimed to God’s people in both word and sacrament. At this point, we have seen how the doctrine of justification understands faith as the animating principle of human life under God by which people are brought into a right relationship with him, because faith is being aware of being constituted by another, of being constantly dependent on God. As a process of self-judgment, the confession of self as sinner is an act of faith in God that what he has offered has been heard and received. This is why, not incidentally, the formulation of the doctrine of justification is by grace through faith. It is by God’s grace that his Son was offered up for sinners, but it is by faith that sinners make that confession of God as the justifier. Unbelief, the root of sin, has deafened and blinded humans to the reality of their creator who is the “giver of all good things.” However, this confession does not turn a blind eye to the enduring reality of sin and brokenness this side of the eschaton and, therefore, remains a confession of faith in the face of things seen to the contrary. Although we have shown how an emphasis on justification by faith alone does not necessarily devalue the creation, it remains to be shown how it can avoid the charge that it can foster Gnosticism with respect to specific lived in realities. In other words, we have come back to a similar problem faced in our discussion of the criticisms of Ebeling with respect to the law, namely, that a vague concept of the law – even when it is ascribed great power – fails to help make concrete its actual content. Similarly, it is undoubtedly good that an emphasis on justification by faith alone can promote an appreciation for the creative action of God through nature, but how does that translate to helping us “read” the book of nature as written by God? To this, we can turn to a discussion of the question of the relationship between creation, faith and the Holy Scripture’s role in teaching and establishing the church. Luther’s engagement with scripture from the outset was an essential factor in the confidence he had in his dispute with the Pope. On the 15th of June 1519, Pope Leo X published Exsurge Domine – arise, O Lord – a refutation of Martin Luther and his teaching, including 41 particulars about which the German friar was in error. Later that same year, Luther responded with his Assertio omnium articulorum – the assertion of all the articles of which he was condemned – where in the preface he writes that “the Holy Scripture itself on its own, to the greatest extent possible, is easy to understand, clearly and plainly, being its own interpreter [sui ipsius interpres], in that it puts all statements of human beings to the test, judging and enlightening.”80 At the

80

WA 7:97.23 quoted Tappert, The Book of Concord: The Confessions of the Evangelical Lutheran Church, 74. To the entire theme, see Steven D. Paulson, “Lutheran Assertions Regarding Scripture,” in Justification is for Preaching, ed. Virgil Thompson

168

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

turn of the 21st century, almost 500 years since this fateful missive, it is difficult to hear Luther’s statement as anything other than pious, naïve, sentimentality. However, this statement concerning the authority of scripture consisting in its power to “put all statements of human beings to the test” rests in his fundamental reorientation of the nature of theology itself, because God speaks to the sinful human through his Word. The authority of scripture as the necessary primary authority – the Norma normans non normata (the norm that norms, but itself is not normed) – to and for the church is not given as a formal sola scriptura principle, which is then quickened by a material sola fide, as later Protestant dogmaticians would argue, but because of the nature of theology itself claims its own authority as the material means through which God creates faith in himself out of unbelief. Put simply, its authority lies in that it alone is the book that teaches, evokes and sustains the “faith once delivered.” If, as has been argued, the subject of theology is properly understood as the relationship between sinful humanity and a justifying God, that proclamation of the gospel is the means by which this conflict is ended in favor of God by “bringing Christ home” to the hearer by faith, and this faith is that which stands firm in the midst of Anfechtung, the question remains as to how the scriptures qua scriptures, i.e., as the actual written word, function. The answer lies in the fact that scripture is the sole locus for the explicit promises and threats of God, of both law and gospel. Simply put, “There is no book that teaches the faith except Scripture.81” As will be shown, the Holy Scriptures are the special revelation of the specific message of the Gospel in contrast to the general revelation of the law through nature; it is to this assertion that we now turn.

E. Reading the Voice of God “This thesis [that scripture is its own interpreter],” argues Oswald Bayer, “goes way beyond the methodology that involves work with a concordance, by means of which a particular scriptural passage is to be interpreted by other passages and must be brought into agreement with them. It refers specifically to the effect that the text has, with reference to the one who reads, hears, and interprets it. In this comprehensive sense the phrase Sacra scriptura sui ipsius

(Eugene, Or: Pickwick Publications, 2012), 217–230; and Vitor Westhelle, “Luther on the Authority of Scripture,” Lutheran Quarterly XIX (2005): 373–391 81 Bayer et al., “Neuer Geist in alten Buchstaben,” in Die Autorität der Heiligen Schrift für Lehre und Verkündigung der Kirche (Neuendettelsau: Freimund–Verlag, 2000), 39.

Reading the Voice of God

169

interpres means ‘the Text itself causes one to pay attention.’”82 Gerhard Forde would explain it thusly: This principle can and has been interpreted in a rather simplistic sense, to wit, that the obscure passages are to be interpreted by the clearer ones. But that is rather the argument that goes with quite another principle, that of the perspicuity of scripture . . . the assertion that ‘scripture interprets itself’ arises out of the reader’s encounter with scripture. It proposes a radical reversal in the relations of the text and the exegete/reader/hearer. In the usual model, the exegete stands as subject over against the text as an object to be interpreted. But this means that the exegete, as subject, always remains in control and one always winds up in the swamp of subjectivism. Usually, such subjectivism can subsequently be overcome only by submission to the collective subjectivity to the whole, either by some kind of consensus or by recourse to a teaching office that supposedly has the gift or power to close the argument.83

In other words, the authority of scripture lies in its sole ability to vanquish the idols of unbelief and create faith in Christ, to “drive Christ home.”84 This authority is manifested by providing the assurance of Christ’s saving presence amidst the trials of Anfechtung. In this respect, the power of the scriptures can be seen as similar to that of the law and gospel in that they are defined not merely in terms of content but by function. “In the model proposed by the claim that ‘scripture interprets itself’,” argues Forde, “the roles of exegete and text are exactly reversed . . . attention moves beyond what the word means to what it does. The movement in the direction of the living word is, or course, unmistakable here. The exegete is put in the position of a hearer who upon being addressed and exegeted by the Word becomes in turn a speaker, a preacher of the Word.”85 Thus we have the relationship between preaching, teaching, and confessing; people who have had their Anfechtung so silenced will return, time and time again, to “hear them, read, mark and inwardly digest” that Word.86 82

Bayer, Martin Luther's Theology, 68. Forde, “Authority in the Church: The Lutheran Reformation,” in A More Radical Gospel, 65–66. 84 To this term see note 137 above. 85 Forde, “Authority in the Church,” 66. 86 This phrase is taken from the Collect for the 2nd Sunday in Advent from the 1552 cf., Church of England et al., The Collects of Thomas Cranmer, eds. C. Frederick Barbee and Paul F. M. Zahl (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans: W. B. Eerdmans, 1999), 4, where in the Book of Common Prayer, the collect reads “Blessed Lord, who hast caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning; Grant that we may in such wise hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that by patience, and comfort of thy holy Word, we may embrace, and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which thou hast given us in our Savior Jesus Christ.” On page 5, Barbee and Zahl explain the significance of this collect for Cranmer’s more “Lutheran” understanding of the role of scripture in the life of the church: “For Cranmer, the touchstone or reference point for wisdom is ‘all holy Scriptures.’ He prays that we would not only hear the Scriptures as words, but ‘inwardly 83

170

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

As we have seen, the relationship between faith and Anfechtung is crucial to an appreciation of Luther’s theology, because while this type of torment is common to all people, it is particularly instructive for the believer because of how faith operates within this struggle. Bayer explains this relationship: [Anfechtung] or agonizing struggle is not the touchstone that validates the authenticity of faith, as if to demonstrate the veracity and the credibility of the believing person. Instead, agonizing struggle is the touchstone that shows the Word of God itself to be credible and mighty within such struggle and when opposing it.87

For Luther, this is how scripture commands its own authority, and is how one should speak of it: that it alone establishes its own authority over its hearers by creating people who are given the confidence, the faith, to confess in the midst of Anfechtung, like Peter to Jesus, “Lord, to whom shall we go, you have the words of eternal life” (John 6:68). It is for this reason that Gerhard Forde can make the claim that, “The insistence that scripture interprets itself is simply the hermeneutical correlate of justification by faith alone.”88 Authority, in this respect, is not seen as either eudaimonistically coerced – as if we could be convinced that it was in our best interest so to do – or dogmatically asserted – as if a magisterium or confession or statement would have the final say – but rather evoked in the midst of a life lived, as we pointed out from the outset, oratio, meditation and tentatio – prayer, meditation and struggle – by faith. These three – oratio, meditatio and tentatio – are Luther’s “rules” for theological study, are applied equally to his appreciation of the role and power of the scriptures in the life of the believer. Because his reflection on tentatio necessitated a theological reorientation around the soteriological relationship between the sinful human and the justifying God, Luther would develop his understanding of the biblical concepts of law and gospel along the lines of the vita activa vs. vita passiva – the active life vs. passive life – respectively, because as passive people, the power of the scripture lay in its ability to release the captives from bondage. Just as the Apostle Paul refers to the “imprisonment” – συγκλείω (Gal. 3:23; Romans 11:32)) – of the law, so the fundigest’ them as the Word by which we may be comforted (i.e., strengthened). Cranmer views the Bible as providing both the grounds for our patience and the fuel for our strengthening. Such patience and strengthening are able to take us by the instrumentality of hope right up to the threshold of natural life. After we cross that threshold, we shall receive the ‘everlasting life’ promised in the last phrase. The reference point of Scripture gives the gift of unity to our otherwise scattered experience of life, life as a sequence of episodes roughly edited by the passage of time. The Word, learned and felt, then tried by experience, accompanies us, just as last Sunday's Collect related the accompaniment of One who visited us in great humility.” See also Notger Slenczka's “Die Schrift als ‚einige Norm und Richtschnur’” in Die Autorität der Heiligen Schrift, 53–78. 87 Bayer et al., “Neuer Geist,” 37. 88 Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology, 66.

Reading the Voice of God

171

damental assumption of the human predicament is not that people are too free, but that everyone is bound and imprisoned by the law of sin and death. Accordingly, the scriptures claim authority by being the agent of freedom – by having what Bayer calls their “resurrection power” [Totenauferweckung kraft],89 by which it “takes priority” over its hearers and readers. He explains: For when I read and hear Scripture, then I note that these stories talk about me; they tell my story. I appear in them long before I obey them. In this way the text precedes me and this text addresses me . . . by the authority of Scripture the hearer is placed into his proper relationship; the individual does not constitute himself, he is assigned a location: as creature.90

Here again we are returned to our previous discussion of the relationship between the created world, the law, and our own human finitude. In the scriptures, we are given both the diagnostic of our dire situation and the means by which God has addressed said situation in his own Son. In this respect, the self-judgment that results in the confession of sin, as a confession of the truth of the homo peccator, is closely related to an appreciation for the authority of scripture. In the scriptures we hear this relationship explicated and defined and, ultimately, preached to those for whom it would otherwise be unknown. Scripture, as that which makes the explicit claims of God over the world in both law and gospel, acts as a locus for the comfortable repetition of the gospel in the liturgy of the church, and remains a public proclamation to the world of an external claim on their lives. And the actual written word is not incidental to this claim, argues Bayer: God has handed over, entrusted his oath, his word of honor not only in the letters but as letters. One can also say: God announces his oath, his word of honor – in a testament. This testament has both oral and written aspects and it is not as if the oral could be peeled away from the written. The oral proclamation of the resurrection of the Crucified, the victory of the new David over the Goliaths of Sin, Death and Hell, is intrinsically related to the definite text of scripture; these events occur “according to the scripture [nach den Schriften].91

However, he cautions, “Setting it forth in written form is not setting it forth to develop a legal codification of ironclad, forced, tyrannical, articulated rules; in this sense Christianity is no religion of the book, as is Islam with its Koran. For the text of the Bible cannot be rounded out to become a system.”92 And with this statement, we have come to the place where the relationship between Anfechtung and authority is seen most clearly, because the very thing that creates the terror and uncertainty and torment in the life of the faithless

89 90 91 92

To this point, see Bayer et al., “Neuer Geist,” 35–51. Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology, 69. Bayer et al., “Neuer Geist,” 39. Ibid., 79–80.

172

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

person is the fact that the scriptures defy systematization, that they defy easy resolution. The Holy Scriptures are the historical account of God’s dealing with his people throughout history, an account that includes periods of judgment and mercy, wrath and grace, law and gospel. As we have, along with Ebeling, argued that there are two fundamentally different ways of doing theology – either as a unity of law and gospel or disunity in the face of Anfechtung – so can the concept of scriptural authority be seen as a battle between two competing theological paradigms. These are not, writes Forde, “ a standoff between papalism and Biblicism, each disputing what appear to be the exaggerated or inappropriate authoritarian claims of the other,”93 but rather between the view of those two together and the view of scripture as part of the external “means by which the Spirit works on the hearer.”94 Forde and Bayer follow Ebeling in arguing that it was a new understanding of the phrase “the letter kills, but the spirit gives life” (2 Cor. 3:6) that allowed for the distinction between law and gospel to supplant the hermeneutic that had been passed on to Luther through the traditions of the church.95 In this tradition, there had developed by the time of Luther a fourfold way – called the “Quadriga” – of interpreting scripture, which saw the literal meaning of scripture, i.e., what the text actually says, as only one of four ways of interpretation. The other three, the analogical, topological, and anagogical, were considered the “spiritual” way of interpreting the text.96 Forde explains how this exegesis was conducted: The literal story is a “front” for a more “spiritual” internal and eternal story. So does one move from letter to spirit, from the mere sensible and temporal history to the intelligible and eternal truth. The move from letter to spirit is therefore an interpretative move. The gap between then and now is bridged, so to speak, by translating the literal history into some kind of eternal ‘spiritual’ truth.97

In other words, the traditional exegesis that the “letter that kills” meant that the non-spiritual, literal words of scripture had to be infused with a type of spiritual power or interpretation that would make these words alive, but, argues Ebeling, when Luther began to view the human condition from the perspective of either one of unbelief or faith, death or life, then, “the twofold scheme of killing letter and life-giving spirit cuts right across the fourfold 93

Forde, “Scriptura sacra sui ipsius interpres,” in A More Radical Gospel, 71. Ibid. 95 To this whole question, see, Henri de Lubac, Medieval Exegesis: The Four Senses of Scripture (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1998). 96 To this point, see Ebeling, “The Beginnings of Luther's Hermeneutics: the Fourfold Sense of Scripture and the Distinction Between Letter and Spirit,” trans. Richard B. Steele, Lutheran Quarterly 7, no. 4 (1993): 451–468. 97 Forde, Theology is for Proclamation, 153. 94

Reading the Voice of God

173

scheme of the senses of Scripture.”98 The scripture itself became either the law or the Gospel in the lives of those who interacted with it; by faith it would be the promised words of mercy, and by unbelief, it remains the demands of an unknown God. Ebeling explains that Luther’s new hermeneutical insight was “not that the historical sense is the letter and the allegorical, tropological, and anagogical sense the spirit; rather, it is that whether literally or mystically interpreted, the whole exposition according to the Quadriga stands either under the sign of “killing letter” or under the sign of “life- giving spirit.”99 For Luther, the letter does not kill because of lack of interpretation; it kills because it speaks unequivocally of the demands and actions of God in and through history culminating in the cross of Christ. It is the external claim of God on the world, and individuals in particular, that is heard through the text of scripture that demands a confrontation that brings about a self-judgment on the veracity of those claims. Is there a God who had to act in such a way in the world on my behalf? At this point of confrontation, argues Forde, “There is no option at this point but either to confess or reject, and when the confession that this was all done ‘for me’ is made, the law, the letter, kills. It brings us to an end. And when the letter kills, the Spirit brings its life-giving work.”100 In this way, it is a type of “aesthetics of reception,” in that the power of the text is made manifest by contact with the hearer who has his or her self-awareness elicited by the hearing of it as the word of God. This is not a hidden spiritual power that lurks behind the text, but is the reality of the text as the very message from outside of a person, which makes claims against his or her own autonomy. This is why there can be no greater place where the clear killing power of the letter can be seen than in the historical reactions to the basic claim of scripture, one that came to a head in Luther’s argument with Erasmus in The Bondage of the Will, namely, that “God moves and actuates all in all.”101 98

Ebeling, “The Beginnings of Luther’s Hermeneutics,” 452. Ibid. With respect to these two offices, cf., LW 39:188, where Luther, writing an “Answer to the Hyperchristian, Hyperspiritual, and Hyperlearned Goat Esmer in Leipzig,” writes, “. . . these then are the two works of God, praised many times in Scripture: he kills and gives life, he wounds and heals, he destroys and helps, he condemns and saves, he humbles and elevates, he disgraces and honors, as is written in Deuteronomy 32[:39], I Kings 2, I Sam. 2:6–8, Psalm 112:7–8, and in many other places. He does these works through these two offices, the first through the letter, the second through the Spirit. The letter does not allow anyone to stand before his wrath. The Spirit does not allow anyone to perish before his grace. Oh, this is such an overwhelming affair that one could talk about it endlessly! But the pope and human law have hidden it from us and have put up an iron curtain in front of it. May God have mercy! Amen.” 100 Forde, Theology Is for Proclamation, 154. 101 LW 33:176. To this, see Forde, The Captivation of the Will: Luther vs. Erasmus on Freedom and Bondage (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2005). 99

174

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

With respect to the distinction between law and gospel, this is not, as has often been the case, an intellectual argument about determinism vs. free will but, rather, about the right confession of God. “As human beings,” writes Bayer: Who are called into life by God alone, we are addressed in such a way that one purely and simply cannot undo; we are [quoting Luther] ‘such creatures with whom God will speak, eternally and immortally . . . whether it is in wrath or whether it is in mercy.’102 No human being can remove this responsibility – the empowerment and the necessity to give an answer. God’s address to human beings remains in force, even through death and beyond.103

In other words, the killing letter of Holy Scripture is the work of its witness to the claims of an absolute God on the world in the life of one without the spirit, without faith. Here we can return to our conception of the subjectum theologiae for clarification about the role of this “absolute God” with respect to gospel, law, and the scriptures. As we have seen, when the subjectum theologiae is the sinful human and justifying God, then the existence of the homo peccator is conceived of not as having a deficient amount of merit or “love” – as in the case of a participationist soteriology based on the law – but as one bound by sin to a constant oscillation between the very states of being confronted by God in himself – in ipse – by faith and outside of faith. It is this absoluteness of God outside of faith in him as the Deus iustificans, writes Forde, that drives the need for absolution, because when the ultimate demand of God is understood to be both ambiguous and never ending, then the only recourse human beings have is to flee from that God; however, when the announcement of what God has done in Christ is made, then the aforementioned relationship between the homo peccator and deus iustificans is established as one of mercy and, therefore, is both law and gospel. Absolution, for Forde, is “not only the solution to the ‘subjective’ problems of guilt, but also and perhaps above all the solution to the systematic problem arising from God’s absoluteness.”104 He continues: There is a very subtle problem here that is often missed, I think. It is not the absoluteness of God as such that really binds us, but rather our reaction to the idea, the mask, the threat that hangs over us expressed in the concept of absoluteness, the superiority, the priority, the very godness of God . . . The only solution to the problem of the absolute is absolution. That is my thesis. That is to say that the only solution to this systematic problem is the pastoral one, the move from the abstract to the concrete, from the hidden to the revealed God, from, we might say, the lectern to the pulpit, font, and altar.105

102 103 104 105

LW 5:7 Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology, 328. Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology, 153. Forde, “Absolution, Systematic Considerations,” in The Preached God, 155.

Reading the Voice of God

175

This pastoral solution is, for Forde, the logical outworking of a theology that is predicated upon the message of God’s reconciling work in Christ, because it simultaneously identifies the realities of human brokenness and sin for which the cross was necessary and presents God’s solution. The problem with much of contemporary reflection on the issue of absolution is that people are reticent to take either the diagnosis or the solution with sufficient seriousness.106 This seriousness is not absent in Luther’s appreciation of the situation of the human being outside of faith. For Luther, writes Bayer, this absolute God outside of faith is nothing less than “the devil, the most embittered enemy of the human being who attacks and oppresses these very human beings constantly and everywhere, [who] is nothing other than a mask of the almighty God in his terrifying hiddenness.”107 What this means is that Holy Scripture is authoritative because it makes claims over the reader by means of creating the faith that confesses Christ and believes in his gospel. This is, as Bayer argues, a “reciprocal relationship” that takes seriously the relationship between “that which is fixed and that which is changeable, between the verbal and written, between the living Spirit and the fixed literal text.”108 This relationship begins with the awakened, faithful confession that in the scriptures we have “the words of eternal life,” and that it is that with which we will struggle to become made into theologians; people, he writes: Who, driven by agonizing struggle, enter with prayer into the Holy Scripture and interpret what is set forth within it, in order to give insight to others who are engaged in agonizing struggle, so that they in a like manner – with prayer – can enter into the Holy Scripture and can interpret it.109

Once again, the role of the law and its Anfechtung is central to our theological program, and one of the two differing ways of conceiving theology that has been the fundamental thesis of this work. Thus far we have seen how, beginning with a conception that all of life is a question of justification by faith before the “dual tribunals of the world and God,” far from running from creation and devaluing it, the proper confession of God as God pro nobis in Christ turns the otherwise ambiguous sermon of the world into part of the promise of the gospel itself. However, it was shown that to hear the address of the 106 See, in particular, the chapter “The Atoned and Atoning God,” in Paul F. M. Zahl, A Short Systematic Theology (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2000). 107 Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology, 205. 108 Bayer, Martin Luther's Theology, 80. 109 Ibid., 19. To this whole issue of what could be understood as a modified, theocentric reader–response theory of Biblical hermeneutics, see Thiselton, Anthony C. Hermeneutics: An Introduction (Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2009); and also Westphal’s treatment of Gadamer’s hermeneutic theory in Whose Community? Which Interpretation? Philosophical Hermeneutics for the Church (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2009).

176

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

world as gospel one must first have a preacher who, in word and sacrament, performs the miracle of opening deaf ears by faith to hear. This is only done through the interaction of the written and spoken word of God as it is witnessed to in scripture and through the church. As we have seen in the preceding sections, the claims that the distinction between law and gospel lead to a “Gnosticism” that devalues the created world, when properly understood, are baseless. As has been shown, it is quite the contrary, because when the gospel is preserved from being mixed with the law, and therefore the gospel is allowed, by the creation of faith, to turn the demands of the created world on our lives and bodies into the very gift of God, then not only is creation valued, but it is understood as the proper locus for Christian activity and work. Furthermore, the scriptures, far from being devalued, take on an operative role in the life of the church and the individual believer as that record of God’s saving action in the world pro nobis. It is appropriate that we first addressed the doctrine of Creation before turning to the question of antinomianism, because, following Luther’s thought, they are intimately connected. Furthermore, as we have seen, there is an intimate connection between the doctrine of creation and the role of the Holy Scriptures for the life of faith, because it is by being called out of unfaith to faith that one is made aware of the incarnate reality of his or her own existence as a gift from God. This new life is not unaware or naïve about the challenges and conflicts of life, but is nevertheless given a confident hope in the enduring promise of the God who has come in his Son and has given us our very humanity as not only his creatures, but his children.110 Bayer, in a chapter from Living by Faith: Justification and Sanctification entitled, “In the Belly of the Fish,” explains: Luther says that we experience the world either in sin and unbelief or else in faith: faith in the grace of God and faith as the grace of God. In unbelief we experience the world as the wrath of God. Luther knows no neutral zone on the far side of grace and wrath.111

Here, among the descriptions of the new life of faith, Bayer is also introducing a concept that will be determinative for our following discussion of antinomianism, namely, that “Luther knows no neutral zone.” This means that whatever arguments have been given to the contrary, there is no escaping the “curse of the law” (Gal. 3:13). We have now come to the climax of our study, where we will address the underlying concern that has permeated all of the discussion so far, namely, that the doctrine of justification by faith alone, by its insistence on “faith apart from works,” is ultimately “antinomian.” And, although we have mentioned this throughout the study, here we will explicitly cover the most radical aspect 110 111

John 1:1–14. Bayer, Living by Faith, 30.

The Empty Theater

177

of Luther’s doctrine of the law and gospel, and the most crucial to our entire enterprise, namely, that there is no such thing, ultimately, as “antinomianism,” because the power of the law, like that of the gospel, is something that is not ours to use or abuse, but it is something to be given and to endure. The following two sections will examine how Luther develops this assertion in his debate with the “Antinomians,” and will conclude with the argument that there exists, ultimately, no such thing. The law, the demand to be justified and to have meaning in the world and its concomitant Anfechtung, is not an option from which human beings can be excused; there is no “neutral zone.”

F. The Empty Theater Few theologians have devoted so much of their energy to examining the way in which the distinction between law and gospel operates within the doctrine of justification by faith with respect to preaching, as has Gerhard Forde.112 His fundamental conviction is, following Luther, that propounding the idea that there is escape from the law by any means other than faith in Christ is, at best, woefully (and painfully) premature. At the outset of his book Justification by Faith: A Matter of Death and Life, in the opening chapter entitled “Morality and Mortality,” Forde writes: There are two basic metaphors (they are something more than metaphors but we will skip that for the moment) at the root of Pauline/Reformation theology. One we can call the moral or legal metaphor, which speaks in terms of law, morality, justice, and justification. The other is the death-life metaphor, which speaks in terms of mortality, dying to the old and rising to the new life in Christ and the Spirit. Reformation theology is generally formulated in terms of the legal metaphor, while the death-life language is left largely out of the picture.113

Nevertheless, he argues, it is not a question of either legal or death/life language, because when left alone, the former devolves into moralism and the latter into mysticism. “When justification language is brought together with death-life language,” he writes, “ . . . so that justification by faith alone is death and resurrection, then one has a potent theological explosive.”114 This is the argument to which the previous section on creation was pointing: the embodied answer of the “ultimate effect” of the law, i.e., death, when addressed by Jesus on the Cross indicates that there has been an end to the old way of operating, an end to the “moral or legal metaphor” written in the law and encoded on the world of cause and effect. Therefore, it is not a rejection of one “system” over the other, but a 112

This is clearly attested to by those contributors to the Festschrift By Faith Alone: Essays in Honor of Gerhard O. Forde. 113 Bayer, Living by Faith, 3. 114 Ibid., 4.

178

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

distinction between the two. This is why the Gospel of Matthew records Jesus saying that he did not come to “abolish but to fulfill” (Mt. 5:17) the law, and the Apostle Paul argues that “Christ is the end of the law” (Rm. 10:4). This is how faith can be understood as death and resurrection: the death and resurrection of Christ, by faith, becomes the death and resurrection of the sinner without ceasing to be a foreign quality of Christ. This last point, combined with the reality of the sinner as one still “in the world” and “under the law,” necessitates the repetition of the message of the gospel, even to the Christian – especially to the Christian! – as one whose faith in the midst of Anfechtung must be addressed in an unequivocal way time and time again. This argument by Forde, one that characterizes his entire theological program, is based upon a reading of Luther’s “theology of the cross” that connects the themes of creation, sin, death, and the law together in such a way as to render the charge of antinomianism baseless. In his The LawGospel Debate, the published version of his PhD Thesis, Forde made the connection between Luther’s “Antinomian Disputation” and what we have termed the “eschatological dialectic” that would lay the groundwork for this conviction that would become the cornerstone of his entire theological program.115 In his “Fifth Disputation against the Antinomians” in September 1538, Luther makes the connection between the existence of death and the sting of the law along the lines of the Apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians 15:56 when he writes, “The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law.” As Forde notes, the first seven theses set the tone for his entire disputation: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

The law rules in man as long as he lives (Rom. 7:1). Yet he is liberated from the law when he dies. It is therefore necessary for man to die if he wishes to be liberated from the law. Therefore, if the law rules the living man, sin rules the living as well. Wherefore man must die, if he wishes to be liberated from sin. For the law is the strength of sin; but the sting of death is sin (1 Cor. 15:56). These three, law, sin, and death, are inseparable.116

Here, Luther has provided us a bridge between the existence of the law and death that ensures that whatever else one would say about it, it is certainly not abstract.117 That human beings bear the mortal wound of sin is a tragedy of 115

For a more detailed look at the general thrust of the following section on Luther, one to which I am greatly indebted, see Forde, The Law Gospel Debate, 177–184. 116 Martin Luther, Solus Decalogus Est Aeternus: Martin Luther's Complete Antinomian Theses and Disputations, trans. Holger Sonntag (Minneapolis: Lutheran Press, 2008), 241. Forde, The Law Gospel Debate, 179. 117 To this point, see Forde, Theology is for Proclamation, 51, where he points out that this connection shapes our reflections on the account of the fall into sin as recounted in the book of Genesis. Forde explains, “If the fall (our entrapment in original sin) is not a historical event (something that happens in time) then it is necessary (that is, built into the creation). It is of the very essence of the confession of sin, however, that we admit it was not necessary. In being confronted with the proclamation, we take responsibility for it.”

The Empty Theater

179

human existence; however, by faith, the cry of the Apostle Paul, “who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Rm. 7:24), has been decisively answered in Christ, because he was the one who by his resurrection secured the legitimacy of the preached promise of God. However, this promise is only secured by faith, and then only in the confession of sin, i.e., just judgment, that thereby establishes the proper relationship between humans and God. As we have shown, this confession of faith, this acceptance of absolution can only be elicited by the gospel word from the outside, one that silences the Anfechtung and constitutes us as people who live ex-centric lives in Christ. Cognizant of our own mortality, we wait as creatures under the law but no longer condemned by it, “with patience.”118 Appealing to Luther and his disputations “Against the Antinomians,” Forde writes: Luther’s argument is eschatologically tuned throughout. It is not, that is, a “pro-nomian” argument. His contention is not that the hope or the aim of antinomianism is wrong, but that it fails because it is premature, not up to the task, not good enough . . . The repeated theme of Luther’s disputes with the antinomians is that the law correlates with sin and death . . . [therefore] as long as sin and death remain, law remains, and it is impossible for humans to stop it by any means whatsoever.”119

This is the unavoidable situation of human beings under sin, and as a result, under the law without exception. As Forde observes, Luther is aware of those who argue that Christians are, by faith, no longer subject to the law, and consistently points to this relationship between sin, death, and the law as refutation of their assertions. He writes: 15 In short, those who want to eliminate the law from the Church are utterly inexperienced and deceivers of minds. 16 For this is not only stupid and impious, but utterly impossible. 17 For if you want to eliminate the law, then you must eliminate sin and death simultaneously. 18 For death and sin exist on account of the law; as Paul says (2 Cor. 3:6), “The Law kills;” and (1 Cor. 15:56), “The strength of sin is the law”… 120

Further down in thesis 32 of the disputation, Luther makes the memorable statement that any claim to escape the law this side of death is a fruitless and ultimately meaningless endeavor, as if “antinomians,” he argues, “make up and watch plays in an empty theater (vaco theatro) for and by themselves.”121 In other words, argues Luther, the existence of sin and death militates against any claim that the law is fulfilled in any way other than by faith in Christ, 118

Romans 8:24. Forde, Theology Is for Proclamation, 218. 120 Forde, The Law Gospel Debate, 180; Luther, Solus Decalogus Est Aeternus, 243. 121 Ibid., 244. I am indebted to Gerhard Forde for illuminating this point, see Forde, The Law Gospel Debate, 184–185. 119

180

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

because by overcoming sin and death, he has silenced the power of the law by faith.122 At first glance, this might seem fairly obvious to anyone working with the New Testament witness; however, the history of the church attests to a great fear when asserting too definitively the audacious claim of the Apostle Paul in Romans 10:4, namely, that “Christ is the end of the law.” If this is true, argues Forde, then it says as much about the law as it does Christ, because it intimately links the two and places the proclamation of Christ as that which alone can silence the voice of the law, and “nothing else, no one else, not theology, not exegesis, not ecclesiastical authority, not the pope, surely, not human progress, not some assurance that ‘things have changed,’ not developments in genetics, not even a task force, can bring the law to an end for us. If we hear the voice of the law in Romans One and are troubled by it, there is only one remedy for that: Christ.”123 In other words, argues Forde, the attempt to silence the demands of the law – that ever-tightening vicious circle of autopoiesis, or self-creation – by anything outside of faith in Christ will, ultimately, fail. Not because of a lack of good will or effort, but because it is only in the acceptance of absolution, of the confession of creature to creator, that the threat of the law, i.e., death, can be silenced by Christ. It should be noted that this means, for Luther, that the law speaks both in and outside of church; it is not merely the Decalogue or the lex moralis, but everything that brings about an awareness of human sin-

122 See LW 26:165, Luther's commentary on Galatians 2:20, the verse where the Apostle Paul writes, “I have been crucified with Christ. . . illustrates this clearly.” He comments, “Paul adds this because he wants to declare that the law is the devourer of the law. ‘Not only am I dead to the law through the law so that I might live to God,’ he says, ‘but I am also crucified with Christ.’ But Christ is the Lord of the law, because He has been crucified and has died to the law. Therefore I, too, am lord of the law. For I, too, have been crucified and have died to the law, since I have been crucified and have died with Christ.’ How? Through grace and faith. When by this faith I am crucified and die to the law, then the law loses all its jurisdiction over me, as it lost it over Christ. Thus, just as Christ Himself was crucified to the law, sin, death, and the devil, so that they have no further jurisdiction over Him, so through faith I, having been crucified with Christ in spirit, am crucified and die to the law, sin, etc., so that they have no further jurisdiction over me but are now crucified and dead to me. But here Paul is not speaking about being crucified with Christ by imitation or example – for imitating the example of Christ is also being crucified with Him – which is a crucifixion that pertains to the flesh. 1 Peter 2:21 deals with this: ‘Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in His steps.’ But he is speaking here about that sublime crucifixion by which sin, the devil, and death are crucified in Christ, not in me. Here Christ does everything alone. But I, as a believer, am crucified with Christ through faith, so that all these things are dead and crucified to me as well.” 123 Forde, “Human Sexuality and Romans, Chapter One,” in The Preached God, 208.

The Empty Theater

181

fulness, i.e., unbelief.124 Again here we see the interplay between the law, the Gospel, and Anfechtung, because it is to those people who have been troubled by the law, who have been sent off in search of a remedy for their fears, to whom the gospel is addressed in a law-free way, which simultaneously reveals that the law was right, and that it has ended in Christ. This is, again, the ontological significance of faith for the believer, because the person who was suffering unaware is transformed by the Gospel – not by some inherent “ontological” change, but by faith in the ex-centric promise that Christ’s promise for them, in the end, will come true. Death, in this respect, is a sermon of law in and of itself; it is the great silencer of all attempts to “be like God,” and remains the point at which faith in God is most sorely tested for even the most devout. At this point we return to what we termed the “eschatological dialectic” of law and gospel that is of central importance, because it is only when we grasp the death to life paradigm of the transition from unbelief to faith that we can fully appreciate the importance of the aforementioned statement that “Christ is the end of the law.” When justification is viewed as a progressive movement from vice to virtue, then the argument that the Apostle Paul makes in Romans 3: 21-22 concerning the righteousness “apart from the law,” (χωρὶς νόµου), can only be understood as meaning apart from the ceremonial but not the moral law. In this way, the continuity with the legal system of righteousness is maintained. Christ is important, of course, not as the end of the law but as the one who purified it, the one who showed us it was “love.” The difficulty with this position is that Christ and his death and resurrection do not bring about a new situation but, rather, a more improved and streamlined version of the old. When the continuity of the law is so conceived, then Jesus can easily become seen as a new Moses who came to bring a purer, universalized law. Take, as an example, the late Pope John Paul II in Veritas Splendor, chapter 1, commenting on the following account in Matthew 19: “And behold, a man came up to him, saying, ‘Teacher, what good deed must I do to have eternal life?’ And he said to him, “Why do you ask me about what is good? There is only one who is good. If you would enter life, keep the commandments.” The Pope explains that the purpose of this parable is to illustrate, “a close connection . . . between eternal life and obedience to God’s commandments.” Because Jesus is the new Moses,” John Paul II argues, the “commandments are linked to a promise.” This is very instructive for our purposes here, as it is in direct opposition to what we have been arguing so far. He says: The commandments are linked to a promise. In the Old Covenant the object of the promise was the possession of a land where the people would be able to live in freedom and in 124

See Simeon Zahl, Pneumatology and Theology of the Cross in the Preaching of Christoph Friedrich Blumhardt: The Holy Spirit Between Wittenberg and Azusa Street (New York: T & T Clark, 2010).

182

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

accordance with righteousness (Dt. 6:20-25). In the New Covenant the object of the promise is the “Kingdom of Heaven,” as Jesus declares at the beginning of the “Sermon on the Mount” – a sermon which contains the fullest and most complete formulation of the New Law (Mt 5-7), clearly linked to the Decalogue entrusted by God to Moses on Mount Sinai.125

For John Paul II, the promise of the New Covenant is the “Kingdom of Heaven” in contrast to the literal “Kingdom of Israel” promised by the Old. The Gospel is the good news that we can now live moral lives along the lines of the Sermon on the Mount. Coming, as this does, from the Pope, this argument is neither surprising nor unwarranted;126 however, what is more important is how similar this conception is with those of the heirs of the Reformation who, although they emphasize justification by faith alone, by introducing a split in the law from which we are ostensibly delivered, end up in the same place, namely, that the Gospel – the good news – is not that the law has been fulfilled by faith in Christ, but that they in themselves are the ones who can now fulfill the new law – the novo lex – of love. Here, once again, we have come to a key difference between the two competing theological constructions under consideration. What the Pope has outlined is quite a different paradigm than the one which views the fulfilled law as having been taken care of once and for all by Christ as the new Adam who by obedience and faithfulness, “obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross,” was vindicated by God in the resurrection and now is the “first fruits” of the new creation.127 Here we see the connection between life and death language in Paul and Luther come to the fore, because the new life promised by faith in Christ is not an ability to fulfill the law in ourselves, but a completely new existence – an extrinsic being – grounded not on what I do, but on who I am as one sinner justified by God. This is the crucial insight upon which the doctrine of justification and the distinction between law and gospel rests, namely, that this change in self-awareness, while not metaphysical, is nevertheless real in the sense that the ground of human relationship to God, self, and the world has been reordered. The law is that which will drive me to create my own meaning, purpose and identity in whatever I can – Bayer’s ever-tightening noose of selfjustification – but the gospel, in this respect, is the promise of God in Christ that while completely outside of me, nevertheless becomes the very ground of my existence in the world by faith. This can be understood as a transition, but one – in keeping with the language of the New Testament – not from vice to 125

John Paul II, Veritatis Splendor (London: CTS/Veritas, 1998) http://w2.vatican.va/ content/john-paul-ii/en/encyclicals/documents/hf_jp-ii_enc_06081993_veritatis-splendor .html 126 See Robert Preus, Justification and Rome (St. Louis, Mo.: Concordia Pub. House, 1997). 127 Phil. 2:8; 1 Corinthians 15:16–23; Rm. 5:10.

The Empty Theater

183

virtue, but from death to life, from one who was unaware of what it meant to be human to one who has become, by right relation to God, a creature. Illustrating this is a necessarily lengthy quote from Bayer that makes this connection in his discussion of the vita passiva, writing: The passive righteousness of faith (iustitia passiva), which can only be received, comes about when justifying thinking (metaphysics) and justifying doing (morality), together with the anticipated unity of both, are all radically destroyed. We should not equate faith with knowing or doing. In other words, it is not the same thing as metaphysics or morality . . . Faith understood as the receptive life kills the deep-seated need in all of us to prove our right to exist. But the old self, the old Adam, wants to do more than merely exist. It wants to secure recognition for itself through what it can and does perform and achieve. This will to achieve and thus to secure recognition for ourselves has become part of our nature, our second, evil nature. . . . However, this nature, in which we want to justify ourselves and make ourselves secure through our thinking and doing, through metaphysics and morality, and in which we want to be the captains of our destiny, so to speak – this nature dies.128

What Bayer is arguing here is the experience of self-condemnation that is the work of the law on the sinner in light of the gospel. When the system of progressive emancipation from vice is replaced with the pronouncement that Jesus’ cross, his death, was done “for you” so as to procure the forgiveness that is not offered in diminishing degree, but, rather fully and at all times, then the human being is unable to escape. However, by faith the quest is confessed as fruitless when undertaken alone and, instead, transferred to Christ as its telos. By preserving the distinction between law and gospel, we ensure that not merely our vices but our virtues as well will be exposed as sinful means by which we are attempting to remain, as Bayer puts it, “captains of our destiny.” Commenting on Thesis 21 of Luther’s 1518 Heidelberg Disputation, which reads, “A theology of glory calls evil good and good evil,” Forde writes, “a theology of the cross calls the thing what it actually is.” Having the wheel of our own destiny wrenched from our hands, either by the inexorable march of time and the “lawful” process of aging, or by something more acute – like the dawning awareness that we are those who are not so much determining things in our lives as being determined, that the answer to “who am I?” is essentially out of my control – is the experience of God’s law assaulting the self-sufficiency and godless unbelief of the sinful human who refuses to acknowledge God as He who justifies the ungodly. This experience of the slow and ever present crushing weight of the law of human existence before God – or even of the supposed absence of God as we heard above from Nietzsche – this is what Forde argues is a much more painful matter than physical death. This suffering comes from God and his claim on the human being. This is something, argues Forde, that:

128

Bayer, Theology the Lutheran Way, 86–87.

184

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

God inflicts on us just by virtue of the fact that he moves against the presumption of our works. He is out to do it all. We suffer this unilateral action of God. We suffer because we don’t like it. We don’t like to be put out of control. It means that we are rendered totally passive by the divine operation through the cross and resurrection of Jesus.129

When theology is predicated on the distinction between law and gospel, meaning that there is a radical discontinuity posited between the life of unfaith and faith, of death and life, then the doctrine of justification by faith alone becomes a polemical doctrine against all claims to righteousness except by faith, which is at once a killing letter to those seeking alternative routes to God and a life giving word to “those of us being saved” (1 Cor. 1:18). In our discussion so far, we have established why the relationship between the law and death make antinomianism, technically, a theological impossibility for our theologians. However, that it is ultimately impossible on account of physical death does not mean that escape from its demands and curses is not attempted. So, the question remains as to how something that is theologically impossible can nevertheless appear to be so rampant throughout the church’s history. How can David Yeago and Robert Jenson’s claim that the distinction between law and gospel has been used to “fund antinomianism” hold water if, in fact, there is no such thing? The answer to this question lies deep in the subjectum theologiae within which we have been operating, and it is to that question that we now turn. It will be shown that, given that the fundamental conviction that there is no escape for the homo peccator except for death by faith in Christ,130 then any attempt to remove the threat and power of the law by theological or linguistic means has to be viewed as tragically flawed. Since the existence of the human being as homo peccator forces an inevitable confrontation with the law, the acceptance of absolution resulting from this confrontation is both that which establishes the right relationship between humans and God and is that confession by which the relationship is maintained until death. In other words, humans remain at the state of total dependence on the absolution, i.e., mercies, of God until they die. Therefore, since the accusation and demand of the law is integral to the establishment of this relationship in Christ, and it is only silenced by faith in Christ, any attempt to rid oneself of the power of the law, i.e. antinomianism, by semantic, exegetical, theological or any other means, only leads to further slavery under the law. Those who attempt this are, following Luther, merely “discard[ing] the few letters that compose the word “law.”131 On account of this conviction, Forde posits the belief that despite the fact that it is ultimately impossible, people are driven nevertheless to try to rid themselves of the law by what he terms “overt” and “covert” means. “Antinomianism fails,” writes Forde, “be129 130 131

Gerhard O. Forde, On Being a Theologian of the Cross, 86. Gal 2:21, Rom. 7:4, Col. 3:3. LW 47:115.

Fake Theology

185

cause it substitutes theology for Christ,”132 and by so doing, renders it what he calls, “fake theology,” as it fails properly to diagnose both the condition of and the solution to the human predicament before God. Both Forde and Bayer are critical of much of contemporary theology at this point, because by “substituting theology for Christ,” it fails to free people from the bondage of the “law of sin and death.”133 The importance of this insight to both Bayer and Forde cannot be overstated, because herein lies the pastoral and theological defense against any threat of real antinomianism. For both of these theologians, that some people deny the power of the “law of sin and death” does not make it any less real, and the tragedy in the “gospel of freedom” is that the veneer of antinomianism covers an even deeper slavery to the law.

G. Fake Theology Developed out of his conviction that human life is a succession of events in the “dispute of justifications,” Bayer’s insight into the plight of the human being à la Sartre as one “condemned to be free”134 is that this is the very essence of the plight of the homo peccator under the power of the law. His statement that, “in its universalizing of the gospel, the modern age is antinomian, but at the same time it is increasingly nomistic,”135 is an articulation of this probing insight into life under the law. In its positing that the human being is born “free” into a world unconstrained by sin, “it is assumed thereby that the law has in principle been vanquished already: the human being is by nature free, good, and spontaneous,” writes Bayer. “In this sense the modern age is antinomian.”136 However, he points out, when this is the default assumed anthropological position for understanding modern humanity, then the only “gospel” available to these modern people is the demand to create oneself, so that “whatever the new human being of the modern age is, that is what he or she must become.”137 This is why, argues Bayer, “the reverse side of antinomianism is nomism.”138 132

Forde, On Being a Theologian of the Cross, 219. Romans 8:2. 134 See Jean Paul Sartre, Being and Nothingness; An Essay on Phenomenological Ontology (New York: Philosophical Library, 1956), 65, where he writes, “The very being of the For-itself which is ‘condemned to be free’ and must forever choose itself-i.e., made itself. ‘To be free’ does not mean ‘to obtain what one has wished’ but rather ‘by oneself to determine oneself to wish’ (in the broad sense of choosing). In other words success is not important to freedom.” 135 Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology, 65. 136 Ibid. 137 Ibid., 66. To this point, see Eberhard Jüngel, Justification: The Heart of the Christian Faith: A Theological Study with An Ecumenical Purpose, trans. Jeffrey F. Cayzer 133

186

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

This is the crucial insight that Forde and Bayer share. In an essay entitled, “Fake Theology: Reflections on Antinomianism Past and Present,” building upon the eschatological dialectic that has been previously discussed, Forde argues that all attempts at antinomianism are along the lines of Luther’s comment to Erasmus that “this gouty foot laughs at your doctoring hands,”139 meaning that the attempts constitute “Fake theology,” because they attempt to remove the power and sting of the law by means of theological language games. Referencing our quote from Heidegger that “language is the house of being,” he says that it is equally true that “language is the prison house of being. Unless there is an actual end to the law, unless there is one who actually ‘breaks out,’ there is no hope.”140 In other words, for Forde, there must be the actual proclamation of the law having ended in Christ by faith for there to be any real comfort in the message of the gospel. And this is no dogmatic assertion but, rather, the logical corollary to the actual hope of eternal life in Christ. If the resurrection validated the life and work of Jesus as the “friend of sinners,”141 then that proclamation must be first and foremost on the mouths of Christian preachers, namely, that the uncertainty that surrounds the finite human being in both life and death has been definitively addressed by the death and resurrection of Jesus. However, argues Forde, this eschatological hope is very rarely the basis for the church’s proclamation. He explains: What happens more often than not in the church is that the eschatological outlook and hope are displaced by law as an eternal order, and nothing is allowed to break its hold or disrupt its continuity. Eschatology is banished from the church and from the Christian life. Law is always the bottom line. Antinomianism is usually a desperate last-ditch reaction to the strangle hold of nomism in a church that has given up on eschatology and settled down to being ‘practical’ and ‘relevant’ to this age.142

In cases such as the ones Forde speaks of, in which the church loses the confidence in the claim that it is the “power of God unto salvation,”143 then there are attempts to treat the symptoms of homo peccator by means of the law rather than the gospel. Generally speaking, this is what we have been arguing that those who object to the distinction between law and gospel have been attempting to do, namely, that in the face of apparent antinomianism they want to mix the law and gospel in order to address the abuses of supposed antinomians. In the end, this defines the gospel in similar ways as Bayer’s (New York: T & T Clark, 2006), 66, whose treatment of the modern curse of autopoiesis is unparalleled. 138 Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology, 66. 139 LW: 33.53. 140 Forde, “Fake Theology: Reflections on Antinomianism Past and Present,” in The Preached God, 223. 141 Luke 7:34; Matthew 11:19. 142 Forde, “Fake Theology,“215. 143 Rom. 1:16.

Fake Theology

187

“modern human,” meaning that the hope that people have – both Christian and non – becomes that they can create who they are to become. This is the deepest cut for the Christian, because whereas the “modern human” has no interest in the idea that, to borrow a phrase from Thomas Aquinas, his nature needs to be perfected, the Christian begins from a place of need, and, following Yeago above, believes that the participatory Christian life in Christ is about “grace perfecting nature.” However, under this mixed law and gospel scheme, because the Christian has a better connection to the true source of power, i.e., “grace,” the ultimate judgment concerning the sufficient amount – or even the very existence of – faith is thrown back onto the ethical progress of this believer “in Christ.” In this way, this confusion of law and gospel – the misunderstanding about what is a work of God and what is the work of man – simply perpetuates the bondage of autopoiesis by positing a free human subject whose most pressing concern is whether or not to participate with God. While there is no denying the benefits of such a system with respect to claiming authority for the proper ordering of society, the benefits in this respect pale in comparison to what is lost. Forde explains: The problem in the exercise of authority is the tendency to confuse law and gospel. There seems to be an attempt to purchase favor for the law by calling it the ‘teachings of the gospel,’ or ‘the gospel teaching in its entirety,’ or perhaps speaking of ‘fundamental ethical values.’ Of course, the Pope is not alone in this. Just read some of the proposals of ELCA task forces and notice how often we are informed about ‘what the gospel teaches’ on the matter at hand. And in general, law is rarely, if ever mentioned . . . The attempt seems to be to sugarcoat the bitter pill of law by calling it the teachings of the gospel. But that is the gateway to rampant confusion. Two things happen at once. The law loses its punch and the gospel no longer sets people free.”144

The importance of Forde’s point here cannot be overstated. The church’s role with respect to the law is to make explicit in relation to the gospel what is only implicitly experienced in life, namely, the work and identity of God who gives the law and offers the gospel. The height of theological confusion on this point is manifest by those churches that seem to believe if the law is not preached as law, then it somehow is not operative. However, like the Apostle Paul argues in Romans 5, even before the law is made explicit it is, by its connection with sin and death, implicit in death’s very existence. This is how antinomianism is, in effect, covert nomianism, because by denying the power of the law to “constrain the whole world under the power of sin” (Gal.3:22), the door is left open to deny the killing function of the law and to turn it into a supposedly benign guide towards blessedness. In this way, we can see examples of what Forde calls “covert” and “overt” antinomianism, both of which prove ultimately impossible. Overt antinomianism – meaning the complete denial of the power of all law both inside and outside 144

Forde, “Authority in the Church,” 57.

188

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

of the Church – is generally kept in check by secular authorities and, as such, is of concern for people both Christian and non. Covert antinomianism, however, is much more subtle, because it attempts to harness the power of the law for its own selfish ends. This move, however, argues Forde, “succeeds only in bringing the voice of despair closer.”145 This voice of despair, that we must become something new, or even simply remain as those who we are, is the voice of the law, which must be denied and deprotonated when not carefully distinguished from the gospel. When the demand of the law is heard, the “be ye therefore perfect”146 in its full weight without the corresponding message of the gospel, then the only recourse for human beings trapped under the “slavery of freedom” is to try to devise ways of making the law a bit more bearable. Forde explains: “Only when the law is carefully distinguished from the gospel will it function properly, and only then will one come to love the law. When law and gospel are mixed or confused, both will suffer and eventually be lost. But since it is an eschatological dialectic, it is not permanent. The gospel is the last word, the final end of the law.147 Here we have come to the argument that is the radical and logical conclusion of a commitment to the distinction between law and gospel, what Forde calls the “most subtle and profound” ramifications of the distinction, namely, that the lex aeterna – the eternal law – is not constitutive of God’s nature but, rather, a temporary dispensation that, while inescapable this side of death – contra the antinomians – will, nevertheless, come to an end. So Forde: No doubt this is the subtlest aspect to the doctrine of the law. How is it established by a faith that believes in its end? That is precisely the point. Only a faith that knows of its true end, both its goal and its cessation, will be able to let it stand just as it is and begin, at least, to gain some insight into the way God the Spirit puts the law to proper use . . . It is because Christ and Christ alone is the end that I can let the law stand just as it is.148

This is, in other words, the logical end to an argument that the law is constituted by its function and not its formal content. Just as a human law only convicts those who are transgressing it, so the divine law is binding only insofar as the transgressions remain this side of death; consequently, it is 145

Forde, “Fake Theology,” 221. He explains that this attempt, “Will not work. The law just changes its tack and becomes, if anything, worse. Is there any comfort in the idea that the ceremonial law ends, but not the moral? And what, finally, is the difference between them? Are the first three commandments ceremonial or moral? Does the law attack any less just because theologians say it is a friendly guide? Or does that only make matters worse? Is the idea that Torah was a blessing to ancient Israel of any comfort to a twentieth century gentile? Have we really escaped from anything at all by the contextualizing and interpreting and relativizing? Or have we succeeded only in bringing the voice of despair closer?” [emphasis added]. 146 Matthew 5:28. 147 Forde, “Fake Theology,” 299. 148 Forde, “Forensic Justification and Law,” 208–209.

Fake Theology

189

understood to function only this side of heaven, not beyond. Again Forde explains: If the law is eternal, if there is no distinction between this age and the next, there is no way to speak of the goodness of our actions in and for this age; everything is judged by the moral absolute. There is little chance, too, then, of really arriving at a positive attitude to law. For it is the supernatural pretension of law, its unbreakable absoluteness, that makes it unbearable and drives man in his endless quest to be rid of it.149

When one, by faithful self-judgment and confession, is freed of the condemnation of the law and its accordant fear of judgment, then when the law convicts of sin – sin already admitted to in theory, if not in actuality – that recognition in itself is a confession of faith, because the God who so ordered the world has provided recompense for its disorder, starting with me. When the law can be seen as having an end, ultimately one can appreciate its role and function this side of heaven as that which continues to lead to Christ. This is why the law must be distinguished from the gospel, because only when the end can be confessed as having come by grace through faith can one actually confront its demands. So, Forde explains: Here we simply have to face the fact that there is no cure other than a more radical proclamation of Christ as the end of the law who because he is the end establishes the law prior to the end. When the end is given we no longer need to be antinomians. This, it seems to me, was Luther’s point in all his writing on the matter. Because the end is given we can enter gladly into life under the law for the time being, to care for the world, for others, and do battle with sin and the devil.”150

When the Christian life is so conceived, then the theological task turns from attempting to devise new ways of exhorting people along their journey from vice to virtue and, rather becomes the more difficult task of attempting to discern what the actual matera legis is for a given time. However, despite the inevitable disagreements that will arise, when the fundamental presupposition is that the problem with humanity is that people are bound and in need of freedom rather than they are too free and in need of bondage, then the discussion will be markedly different. Indeed, returning to our original assertion, one can characterize these as two different ways of conceiving theology: one where the unity of God and the law is assumed and another, where this unity can only be held by faith in the face of Anfechtung. For the former, the most pressing question of human life is how to participate more fully in the divine being in order to “be like God.” For the latter, the most pressing question, i.e.,

149

Forde, “Whatever Happened to God? God Not Preached,” in The Preached God,

48–49. 150

Forde, “Fake Theology,“225.

190

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

“where can I find a gracious God?” has been answered fully and definitively on the cross.151 Here we have come to a line of argument that very much echoes Luther in his Commentary on Galatians, in which he comments on verse 3:19 where Paul writes, “what then, is the purpose of the law?” (τί οὖν ὁ νόµο). For Luther, the existence of supposed antinomians, of people who were abusing the grace of God, did not warrant the rejection of the distinction between law and gospel, because the abuse of the gospel indicated not freedom, but continued slavery. However, the distinction must be maintained in order for those very afflicted people to retain confidence in the fact that the promised redemption had come. “Why then the law?” It is necessary to quote his response at length: Therefore this is a difficult question. Reason is brought short by it and cannot answer it but is offended by it in the highest degree. Because reason does not know anything except the Law, it necessarily deals with this and supposes that righteousness is attained through it. Accordingly, when it hears this statement of Paul’s, novel and unheard-of in the world, that the Law was given on account of transgressions, it judges as follows: “Paul is abolishing the Law, for he is saying that we are not justified through it. Yes, he is a blasphemer against the God who gave the Law; for he says that it was given on account of transgressions. So let us live as the Gentiles do, who do not have the Law! Let us sin and abide in sin, so that grace may abound. ‘Let us do evil that good may come’ (Rom. 3:8).” This is what happened to the apostle Paul, and the same thing is happening to us today. For when the rabble hear from the Gospel that righteousness comes by the sheer grace of God and by faith alone, without the Law or works, they draw the same conclusion the Jews drew then: “Then let us not do any works!” And they really live up to this. What, then, are we to do? This evil troubles us severely, but we cannot stop it. When Christ preached, He had to hear that He was a blasphemer and a rebel; that is, that His teaching was seducing men and making them seditious against Caesar. The same thing happened to Paul and to all the apostles. No wonder the world accuses us in a similar way today. All right, let it slander and persecute us! Still we must not keep silence on account of their troubled consciences; but we must speak right out, in order to rescue them from the snares of the devil. Nor should we pay attention to how our doctrine is abused by the vicious and wicked rabble, who cannot be cured whether they have the Law or not. On the contrary, we should pay attention to how suffering consciences are to be counseled, lest they perish with the wicked rabble. If we were to keep silence, the consciences that are so inextricably captured and ensnared in laws and human traditions would have no comfort at all.152

151

See Steven D. Paulson and Mark C. Mates, introduction to A More Radical Gospel, xiv, where they explain, “Currently the vogue is ontological to chart God's inner being as a triune community of relations, then to explain how humans fell out of 'participation' in God's relations, followed by the exhortation to re–participate in Christ in order to get back in through the church, such that the church can have a 'public effect' in the world. . . Yet, such a system cannot abide the real distinction between law and gospel that actually announces an end to the law since righteousness is presumed not to be in Christ, but in the law, the system or the return to original order itself.” 152 LW 26:305–306

Conclusion: The Resonance of Faith

191

For Luther, as for all of those preachers who hold onto the distinction between law and gospel, the abuse of the message of the gospel that is being addressed by attempted antinomianism is no warrant for the denial of the bold proclamation of the gospel as the end of the law to faith. That people have abused the message by turning it into a means for personal affirmation does not change the fact that the message must be preached for the “consciences that are so inextricably captured and ensnared.” We agree, in this respect, with what Forde wrote in his seminal essay “Radical Lutheranism:”153 What shall we be? Let us be radicals: not conservatives or liberals, fundangelicals or charismatics (or whatever other brand of something-less-than gospel entices), but radicals: radical preachers and practitioners of the gospel of justification by faith without the deeds of the law.154

The preaching of the law as distinguished from the gospel will evoke a confession of faith from those who have the courage to hear, in the gospel, that the punishment has already been paid; however, not all will hear and not all will respond. Nevertheless, with the Apostle Paul, it is incumbent upon every preacher to “preach the Gospel,”155 because only the message that the law has ended will allow people confidently to address their lives as those under law yet waiting for redemption, waiting to be delivered from “this body of death.”156

H. Conclusion: The Resonance of Faith As we have seen, when approaching the topic of justification by faith, and in particular the theological role of the law, one is wise to heed the words of Gerhard Forde, who in his essay on the question, “Is Forgiveness Enough?” writes: “Speak for yourself! And beware! The answer will be something of a confession.”157 Similarly, how one explains justification by faith and the distinction between law and gospel will be a confession about how one understands the entire subjectum theologiae, because in that articulation one’s fundamental theological commitments will be illuminated. Even though the arguments concerning justification by faith touch on all aspects of the Chris153

See Forde, “Radical Lutheranism,” in A More Radical Gospel, 3–16. This is the essay that is credited with the formation of the Lutheran Quarterly journal. www.lutheranquarterly.com 154 Steven D. Paulson and Mark C. Mattes, “Introduction: Taking the Risk To Proclaim,” in The Preached God, 7. 155 1 Cor. 9:16. 156 Romans 7:24–25. 157 Forde, “Is Forgiveness Enough? Reflections on An Odd Question,” World 16, no. 3 (1996): 302.

192

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

tian life, the most essential question they address is the very nature of the relationship between humanity and God. Are people essentially constituted by faith or by sight? Are people justified by what they hear or what they become? These are the questions. For proponents of retaining an emphasis on the doctrine of justification by faith alone as that doctrine upon which the church stands or falls, the human being is understood to be one who is, fundamentally, a hearer. Bayer explains, “Hearers and readers of the biblical texts are interpreted within the church – within the communion of those who first hear and believe, and only then speak; “I believe and so I speak” (2 Cor. 4:13).”158 Consequently, to those who are being addressed by creation as the law, as the address of the hidden God “clothed in majesty,” the address of the gospel will elicit the confession found in Ephesians, that is “by grace you have been saved through faith.”159 However, those who argue that this confession alone will not sufficiently motivate or inspire the Christian towards “good works” reveal through this argument their conceptual failure to grasp the way in which the two are related; good works – this sanctification – are the fruit of a living tree, the movements of a healthy person. Forde explains: ‘Faith without words is dead,’ we are reminded. Quite true. But then what follows is usually some long and dreary description of works and what we should be about, as though the way to revive a dead faith were by putting up a good-works front. If the faith is dead, it is the faith that must be revived; no amount of works will do it.160

This is why the distinction between law and gospel must be maintained – because the problem that besets human beings, the homo peccator, is not ultimately a lack of works, but a lack of faith. When this is seen as the fundamental problem, then the theological task is necessarily driven towards proclaiming the gospel, the “good news” that God has come to his creatures in mercy, forgiveness and love, and that the terrors that assault the conscience have been addressed, once and for all, on the cross. In the final analysis, therefore, the question remains: does the distinction between law and gospel lead inexorably to the “twin temptations of Gnosticism and antinomianism?” We have shown that while this has been an unfortunate trajectory for some who utilize this theological paradigm, it is not necessarily so. Properly understood, Christian ethics in light of the subjectum theologiae is rigorous about maintaining the distinction between the sinful human and the justifying god precisely so that the law – in all of its majesty – will never be minimized, just so the gospel will be free to bring to life those rightly killed by its severity. The life of faith is thus lived in the eschatologi158

Forde, “Scriptura sacra,” 72. Eph. 2:8–9. 160 Gerhard O. Forde, “A Lutheran Response,” in Christian Spirituality: Five Views of Sanctification, ed. Donald Alexander (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1988), 78. 159

Conclusion: The Resonance of Faith

193

cal tension of what Forde calls the “resonance” between the two poles of law and gospel: The proper Christian understanding of law therefore,” he says, “‘resonates,’” to borrow an image from chemistry, between two poles. The first is the gospel declaration that Christ is the end of the law that everyone who has faith may be justified (Rom. 10:4). The second is a question posed for us: “Do we then overthrow the law by this faith?” To which the reply is, “By no means! On the contrary, we uphold the law.” Faith in the end, that is, does not impatiently try to abrogate the law, but puts it in its proper place (Rom. 3:31).161

This “proper place,” is in the free service of neighbor without fear of threat, reward, or retribution; however, in light of enduring human sinfulness – protected as a theological necessity by the very nature of reflection on the “justifying god” – this “proper place” is at once an escalation of the demand on all people as well as an admission to the limits of our own human ability. We can simultaneously confess, with the Apostle, that the law is “holy, righteous, and good,” (Rm. 7:12) in all of its demands, while remaining those crying out with him from its judgment, “Who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Rm. 7:24). Whether it is in the contentious realms of politics, with debates over ephemeral and elusive concepts like justice and truth, or universal questions surrounding the nature of human autonomy and freedom, the law of God and its subsequent capital judgment on every human being will continue to color these discussions with an urgency to find ultimacy and security in that which simultaneously brings condemnation. The accusation of the law, of the hidden god, those givens that come through the creation itself, only exacerbate the “law of sin and death,” and will continue to motivate the drive to seek absolution.162 We will demand it be silenced, and yet it will continue to speak until it is silenced by the gospel. What this means for our earthly, ethical concerns, is that they are not sidelined to the level of secondary importance, since the “summary of the law” requires love of God and neighbor above all; however, it places them in their proper relation to the sinful human, i.e., they are concerns of the law, under which we will all be judged deficient and wanting. Christian people who have had the accusation of the law silenced by faith, will work with people of good will who evince the “law written on their hearts” in areas of commonality across denominational and faith commit161

Gerhard O. Forde, “Law and Sexual Behavior,” Lutheran Quarterly, 9 no.1 (Spr 1995): 5 162 In their introduction to Word–Gift–Being, Bo Kristian Holm and Peter Widmann explain this aspect of Bayer’s program is the convition that, “God never stands, as such, in opposition to a god-less world, but is already integrated into worldly movements ‘speaking to creatures through creatures’ (Johann Georg Hamann). His word is, accordingly, not limited to intellectual communication, but is displayed in the whole range of ‘giving,’ covering everything from material interaction and genetic codes to nourishment, sexuality and usefulness, and even encompassing personal relationship” 7.

194

An Ontology of the “Word of God”

ments towards the flowering of human societies while simultaneiously confessing the true need of the world and its final hope as revealed in the death and resurrection of Jesus. This is why any heated debate among Christians as to the exact means by which people become “holy,” will remain, this side of the eschaton, an exercise in obfuscating the dire reality of the fact that we are all among those marked for death, and that our pretentions to be god will simply exacerbate the frustration of our finitude. The law will continue to accuse at precisely the points of our greatest pretention, because as easy as it is to understand the judgment on the evil works of our hands, the fact remains that even our best works did not spare Christ from the cross; nevertheless, that judgment is not God’s final word. This is the power of the gospel when distinct from law; it is seen in the freedom of a Christian to confess with the Apostle Paul that the end has already come, the condemnation already levied, and life is now lived in light of the cross in the hope of the resurrection. The law’s proper place in the ethical life of a Christian, in many respects, will look similar to that of any human being, namely, it will demand responsibility for one’s actions, justification for one’s existence, honesty in one’s dealings, fairness, justice, in short, holiness; however, for the one justified by faith alone, the condemning voice of the law that demands responsibility, meaning, and self-justification is silenced by faith in the one by whom it was fulfilled. Although not removed from the world accused by the law and beset by the universal experience of life under sin, a Christian nevertheless, by the gift of faith alone, is given to confesses: I believe that I cannot by my own reason or strength believe in Jesus Christ, my Lord, or come to Him; but the Holy Spirit has called me by the Gospel, enlightened me with His gifts, sanctified and kept me in the true faith. In the same way He calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies the whole Christian church on earth, and keeps it with Jesus Christ in the one true faith. In this Christian church He daily and richly forgives all my sins and the sins of all believers. On the Last Day He will raise me and all the dead, and give eternal life to me and all believers in Christ. This is most certainly true.163

163 Theodore G. Tappert, ed. The Book of Concord: The Confessions of the Evangelical Lutheran Church http://www.cph.org/images/topics/pdf/smallcatechism/creed.pdf

Appendix 1 Theses for Disputation The Distinction Between Law and Gospel as the Basis and Boundary of Theological Reflection 1.1 If the law and gospel are not properly distinguished, then the argument that the doctrine of justification by faith is the articulus stantis et cadentis ecclesiae cannot be defended. 1.2. The confusion that surrounds this preceding point contributed to the signing of the Joint Declaration on Justification in 1999. 1.2.3 The signing of the Joint Declaration would have been impossible had there not been dramatic developments in the Protestant conception of the role of justification in theology over the past century. 1.2.4 Of these developments on the importance and meaning of the doctrine of justification, one of the most significant has been a change that diminishes the appreciation for the relationship between faith and Anfechtung. 1.2.5 When this relationship is diminished, the distinction between law and gospel cannot be understood, and the importance of the doctrine of justification by faith alone will be lost. 1.2.6 Gerhard Ebeling, Gerhard Forde, and Oswald Bayer place the relationship between Anfechtung and faith, and, subsequently, the distinction between law and gospel, at the center of their theological programs. 1.2.7 They begin with a conception that sin is, fundamentally, unbelief, and that the judgment on unbelief is exacerbated by the law. 1.2.8 For these three theologians, Anfechtung is a term given to life under the power of the law as a result of sin. The constant terror of this – even (or especially) among Christians – is what necessitates the vigilant distinction of the law from the gospel.

196

Appendix 1: Theses for Disputation

1.3.1 Anfechtung (Tentatio), from Luther’s “Three Rules” for theological study – Oratio, Meditatio, Tentatio – is a “theological concept” that is a crucially important factor in how the very nature of theological reflection is conducted. 1.3.2 As a concept, it is closely related to the notion of apocalypse in Luther, because it captures a sense of the “rupture” in time that was the Cross of Christ, and in light of which the science of theology is conducted. 1.3.3 Anfechtung is that which forces the creation of the theologian in light of this “rupture,” because it recognizes that the unity of God can only be confessed by faith, not professed. 1.3.4 These are the two ways of doing theology, namely, one where God and the law obviously form a unity, and one where that unity has to be confessed in the face of Anfechtung. 1.3.5 These two ways of conceiving theology are differentiated by their conception of the role of the law, theologically understood. 1.3.6 How one appreciates the concept of Anfechtung will determine his theological appreciation of the law and, by relation, the gospel. 1.3.7 Along these lines, the nature of theology itself can be understood as addressing what Karl Holl termed the “inexhaustible challenge” to Christian theology, namely, how one conceives of the unity of the three concepts of “judgment, moral demand, and faith in the goodness of God.” 1.3.8 Consequently, to consider the relationship between the law and gospel is to consider the central relationship of the Christian faith. 2.1 The two fundamental objections to theology conceived within the horizon of the distinction between law and gospel are that it leads to Gnosticism and antinomianism. 2.1.2 It is considered to lead to antinomianism because of its claims that the law and gospel are in a dialectical relationship whereby the law “ends” or is silenced, by faith, which allows for a depreciation of the role and purpose of the law in any positive sense.

Appendix 1: Theses for Disputation

197

2.1.3 It is considered to lead to Gnosticism in this way: since aspects of creation are equated with the law – the created order – then this dialectical relationship forces a confrontation with the gospel, thus making the entire structure inherently Gnostic, i.e., dismissive of the creative order. 2.2 Robert Jenson and David Yeago are among the American theologians who consider the distinction between the law and gospel, “along the lines of Ebeling,” to be helplessly prone to these temptations. 2.2.1 Their rejection of theology “along the lines of Ebeling” is the result of a disagreement with him, and with Bayer and Forde, over an understanding of the law, theologically understood. 3.1 For Ebeling, Bayer, and Forde, the distinction between law and gospel inheres to the very subjectum theologiae itself. 3.1.2. This subjectum theologiae – following Luther – is homo peccator et deus iustificans, the sinner and the God who justifies that sinner. 3.1.3 Therefore, the law and gospel as theological concepts are constitutive to theological reflection itself. 3.2 The law, in this construction, more than a codex or moral guide, is understood as a functional, active, descriptive concept that places the human being in the proper relationship to God. 3.2.1 Anfechtung is the term given to the living experience of being under the law. 3.3 Consequently, the distinction between law and gospel drives preaching, because it views the gospel as actively securing people by faith against lawdriven Anfechtung. 4.1 The 20th century’s wrestling with the doctrine of justification centered on the relationship between law, gospel, and Anfechtung. Karl Holl and the “Luther Renaissance” reintroduced the concept of the Anfechtungserfahrung as the “hermeneutical key” to Luther’s theology. 4.2.3 Holl’s reflections into the interplay between judgment, demand and faith as revolving around the theological loci of the law, cross, and the forgiveness of sins is an aspect of his program that would have lasting ramifications for 20th century theology, because it confronted the question of God’s wrath directly.

198

Appendix 1: Theses for Disputation

4.2.4 Holl eventually posited two kinds of “wraths” in God, one that was actually terrifying, and one that could be understood by the Christian as that done in the service of love. 4.2.5 Nevertheless, according to Holl, the distinction between law and gospel protected the church’s proclamation as either law or gospel and was necessitated by an intense appreciation for the role Anfechtung plays in the life of faith. 4.2.6 However, Anfechtung in Holl was ultimately something that could be explained as a means to an end, i.e., God’s love, which leads inevitably to a mixing of law and gospel. 4.3 Karl Barth took this conception of two kinds of “wrath” one step forward in his “Gospel and Law” when he erased the distinction entirely and argued that everything was an emanation of God’s love. 4.3.2 For Barth, to the extent that the law is a “curse,” it is the result of a “misused” or “misunderstood” law on the part of the human being. 4.3.3 For Barth, the law is a the form of the gospel, and the gospel is the content of the law, thereby making them two parts of a unified “Word of God,” while at the same time maintaining that whatever negative effects the law has on human beings are a result of human misuse. 4.3.4 This line of argumentation presupposes a way in which the law can be either used or misused by human beings, which presupposes that human beings “use” the law, which is in direct contradiction to the assertions of Ebeling, Bayer, or Forde. 4.3.5 For these theologians, it is only God who “uses” the law, and that is only to one purpose, namely, to bring people to a place of proper theological confession of God, the justifier of the ungodly. 4.3.6 Nevertheless, Barth’s reversal of the traditional order and argument that the law could be understood as gracious marks a change in the way the discussion takes place to this day. 4.4 The evolution of Robert Jenson’s theology with respect to this question of Anfechtung can be observed in his treatment of Karl Barth. 4.4.2 For the mature Jenson, the locus of theological discourse has moved from the cross to the resurrection.

Appendix 1: Theses for Disputation

199

4.4.3 For Jenson, the power of this resurrection is manifest in the visible church. 4.4.4 Whereas once, for Jenson, the distinction between law and gospel described the reality of human existence, he now sees the proclamation to be centered on participation in the life of the gospel, i.e., the visible church on earth. 4.5 Concomitant to the discussions among Holl, Barth, and Jenson, were other theological developments that sought to readdress the theological questions surround justification by faith. 4.5.2 Each of the “corrections” to theology done in light of the distinction between law and gospel is often based on a misunderstanding of how the law and gospel are to be understood, theologically speaking. 5.1 There are two general directions in modern theology that are critical of the way the doctrine of justification by faith has been understood. 5.1.2 These can be classified as criticisms that, on the one hand, the reading of the Apostle Paul has been unduly influenced by the perceived psychological state of Martin Luther and that, on the other hand, the reading of Martin Luther himself has been overly influenced by existential German philosophers. 5.2 There is deep dissatisfaction with the way justification and the relationship between law and gospel have come to be received, because Luther is often read along the lines of Rudolf Bultmann, or along “psychological” lines. When that is done, the psychological preconditions for Anfechtung in Luther's supposedly anguished conscience are seen as no longer prevalent in the 21st century world. 5.2.2 The arguments of the “New Perspective,” as initiated by Krister Stendahl, emphasize this misreading by turning the experience of Anfechtung into a state of being overly “introspective.” 5.2.3 Similarly, the critique in Wolfhart Pannenberg’s “Eucharistic Spirituality” relies on the rejection of a “terrified conscience,” and argues that modern human beings are no longer “tormented” in the way that Luther was in defense of his emendation of protestant theology. 5.3 The aforementioned criticisms rest on a superficial understanding of the role of Anfechtung in the life of faith.

200

Appendix 1: Theses for Disputation

5.4 Some theologians challenge the distinction between law and gospel by arguing that it is overly influenced by German post-Kantian antimetaphysical philosophy. 5.4.2 The Finnish Lutherans are among the leaders in a school of thought that considers this anti-metaphysical, or anti-ontological, aspect of Luther research to be untenable in light of his famous phrase in ipsa fide Christus adest. 5.4.3 For the Finnish Lutherans, any sense of “faith” that does not have an ontological component is something that is not “real” in any meaningful way. 5.4.4 They see this line of argumentation resulting from German existentialism rather than from Luther. 5.4.5 Christine Helmer, building upon the work of the Finnish Lutherans, argues that on account of this German philosophical influence, there has been a prioritizing of the cross, i.e., of the “rupture” that exists within a theology of God, at the expense of the doctrine of the Trinity. 5.4.6 This lies at the heart of what she considers problems with the “German Luther,” because it posits a rupture in the conceived unity of God. 5.5 All of the preceding discussions surrounding the relationship between “ontology” and faith result from a misunderstanding of the role of faith in the theology of Martin Luther. 5.5.2 Pope Benedict XVI most clearly sees the disagreement between the Catholic Church and Luther, and the importance of the distinction between law and gospel, with respect to the nature of the relationship between faith and love. 5.5.3 For Ratzinger, “to the Catholic, the Church herself is contained within the inmost movement of the act of faith: only by communal belief do I partake of the certainty on which I can base my life.” Consequently, certainty comes not by faith through hearing, but by communal participation in the body of Christ on earth, i.e., the church. 5.5.4 In contrast, Luther sees faith as this “radical personalization,” that which creates the human being anew as one who only then can participate in the church, not vice versa.

Appendix 1: Theses for Disputation

201

5.5.6 For Luther, the church so described was intolerably unstable because the security rested not in the certainty of the external word of promise – the verbum externum – but, rather, in the differing abilities of individuals to rightly and faithfully to participate. 5.5.7 What Ratzinger sees as a move towards individualism is, in actuality, the confession of the end of self-reliance in any way, and full dependence on the mercies of God that can only be received, not engendered or developed or secured within one’s self in any way. 5.6 For Luther, the nature of faith was not a mere existentialism devoid of ontological significance. Rather, faith creates its ontological significance by nature of the formerly accused standing absolved in relation to Christ. 5.6.2 If something has to be added to faith for it to be effective, then that means the promise secured by Christ in the gospel is insufficient; or, in other words, his promise is lacking. This is abhorrent to Luther, because it not only takes saving emphasis off of Christ, but introduces a measure of distrust of the promises of God himself. 5.6.3 If justification by faith is understood as a process whereby an individual undergoes a transition from vice to virtue by way of participation in God, then an emphasis on this personal “certainty of redemption” would, indeed, signal a sort of insular individualism that is fundamentally concerned only with itself and its own salvation. 5.6.5 However, for Luther, the question was not about claiming personal salvation and individual assurance before God but, rather, being one who was given to confess the way in which God was actually creating him or her as a believing creature ex nihilo by faith. 5.6.3 Furthermore, this is why the distinction between love and faith is crucial to Luther, because it is in this distinction that we find the distinction between the work of God and the work of human beings. 5.6.4 For Luther, faith as the gift of God actually creates the awareness of God in the life of the one so constituted. Thus he can say fides est creatrix divinitatis. 6.1 When law and gospel are rightly understood, and faith and love are distinguished, then contrary to promoting “Gnosticism and antinomianism,” they actually protect the church against said errors; however, law and gospel must be understood in a particular way.

202

Appendix 1: Theses for Disputation

6.2 If the law is understood primarily as moral content, then its end means that morality is no longer valid or, as it has more often been seen, that there is a transference of the moral precepts to the gospel so that it becomes a nova Lex – a new law. However, the end of the law comes when one is freed, by faith in Christ, from the power of the law in itself – as law – because the demands towards which it was geared are fulfilled by faith. 6.2.1 The end of the law comes when one is freed, by faith in Christ, from the power of the law in itself – as law – because the demands towards which it was geared are fulfilled by faith. What is now done by faith is, technically speaking, no longer law. 6.2.2 This is what necessitates the distinction between the two: for the sake of the gospel the law must come to expression, if the gospel itself is not to be misunderstood as law. 6.2.3 The question of law and gospel is not a question of the content of a reality or word, but of the effects a reality or a word has. 6.2.4 Words of law are those which further bind one to oneself; they are those which “increase the trespass” of sin – which is unbelief – and those which force one’s autonomy and self-sufficiency, and leave one to create oneself in terms of the law. 6.2.5 However, the gospel is that one, unique word based on the story and promise of Christ that gives one a foundation in another being from whom one derives his or her sense of self, identity, and life. 6.2.6 The distinction between law and gospel protects the clear exposition of law as law and gospel as Gospel so that both the death dealing function of the law and the life giving message of the Gospel can be most clearly heard. 6.2.7 Faith, in this respect, is the confidence that comes from having been set free, from having been turned outside of oneself and given identity in and by another. 6.3 “Antinomianism” is impossible when the law is understood as that which forces all human beings to account for their lives, because the power of the demand is something that comes from without, not from within (and thus cannot be explained away or effectively ignored). 6.3.2 This importance is insured by the relationship between sin, the law, and death.

Appendix 1: Theses for Disputation

203

6.3.3 As long as death remains in the world, it will claim an account of human existence and demand humans to defend their reason for existence. 6.3.4 This accounting operates along the lines of the law, because it is necessarily based on a world of cause and effect, value judgments, and discussions of merit. 6.3.5 The embodied answer of the “ultimate effect” of the law, i.e., death, when addressed by Jesus on the Cross indicates that there has been an end to the old way of operating, an end to the “moral or legal metaphor” written in the law and encoded on the world of cause and effect. 6.3.6 Since the law is inescapable, yet related to sin and death, it will come to an end where sin and death are no more. 6.3.7 Since death remains, the law remains in effect on all people; however, by faith in Christ, and the efficacy of his death pro nobis, the life of faith is one that has proleptically appropriated his death on behalf of the believer, who nevertheless still lives in this world under the “law of sin and death” (Rm. 8:2). 6.3.6 This is the logical end to an argument that the law is constituted by its function and not its formal content; the law is not constitutive of God's nature but, rather, a temporary dispensation that, while inescapable this side of death – contra the antinomians – will, nevertheless, come to an end. 6.3.8 Just as a human law only convicts those who transgress it, so the divine law, when fulfilled by Christ by faith, is confessed to be binding only insofar as the transgressions remain this side of death; consequently, it is understood to function only this side of heaven, not beyond. 6.3.9 Nevertheless, the life of faith this side of death is one under the judgment of the law, but not its final condemnation. 6.3.10 This is why the Apostle Paul writes that “by faith we uphold the law” (Rm. 3:31-32), because the acceptance of its condemnation indicates a confession that God has been the “just and justifier of the ungodly” (Rm. 3:26). 6.3.11 Believers are delivered, by faith, from the Anfechtung accordant to a life under the law without the gospel; but on account of the continued existence of sin, the gospel must be preached to believers and non-believers alike until the law has ceased its work.

204

Appendix 1: Theses for Disputation

6.4 For Luther, as for all of those preachers who hold onto the distinction between law and gospel, the abuse of the message of the gospel that is being addressed by attempted antinomianism is no warrant for the denial of the bold proclamation of the gospel as the end of the law to faith. 6.4.2 That people have abused the message by turning it into a means for personal affirmation does not change the fact that the message must be preached for the sake of consciences tortured by Anfechtung. 6.4.3 The preaching of the law as distinguished from the gospel will evoke a confession of faith from those who have the courage to hear, in the gospel, that the punishment has already been paid; however, not all will hear and not all will respond. 6.4.4 Nevertheless, with the Apostle Paul, it is incumbent upon every preacher to “preach the gospel,” because only the message that the law has ended will allow people confidently to address their lives as those under law yet waiting for redemption, waiting to be delivered from “this body of death” (Rm. 7:24-25). 6.4.4 For proponents of retaining an emphasis on the doctrine of justification by faith alone as that doctrine upon which the church stands or falls, the human being is understood to be one who is, fundamentally, a hearer. 6.4.5 The problem that besets the human being, homo peccator, is not a lack of works, but a lack of faith. When this is seen as the fundamental problem, then the theological task is necessarily driven towards proclaiming the gospel, the “good news” that God has come to his creatures in mercy, forgiveness and love, and that the terrors that assault the conscience have been addressed, once and for all, on the cross. 6.4.6 Therefore, the ethical life of the Christian is lived under the demand and accusation of the law, but with the condemnation and corresponding Anfechtung removed by the Gospel. 6.5.7 This does not render the law somehow less accusatory or “impotent,” but can be upheld by faith (cf. Romans. 3:21). 6.5.8 This means that when justly accused, the Christian flees to Christ. 6.5.9 This is the life of the “resonance” between the two poles of law and gospel for the Christian; the righteous judgment of the law necessitates the existence of a preacher.

Appendix 1: Theses for Disputation

205

6.5.10 The Christian preacher holds out the promise of the gospel as unmerited, unearned gift from the justifying God on behalf of sinful humanity.

Bibliography Ackley, John B. The Church of the Word: A Comparative Study of Word, Church and Office in the Thought of Karl Rahner and Gerhard Ebeling. New York: Peter Lang, 1993. Althaus, Paul. The Divine Command: A New Perspective on Law and Gospel. Translated by Franklin Sherman. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1966. –. The Theology of Martin Luther. Translated by Robert C. Schultz. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1966. Anderson, Hugh G., Austin T. Murphy and Joseph A. Burgess, eds., Justification by Faith: Lutherans and Catholics in Dialogue VII. Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1985. Assel, Heinrich, Der andere Aufbruch: die Lutherrenaissance – Ursprünge, Aporien und Wege: Karl Holl, Emanuel Hirsch, Rudolf Hermann (1910–1935). Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1994. Aune, David Edward. Rereading Paul Together: Protestant and Catholic Perspectives on Justification. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2006. Austin, J. L. How to Do Things with Words. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1962. Bachmann, Philipp. “The New Message in the Teaching of Jesus.” In Foreign Religious Series. Edited by R. J. Cooke. New York: Easton & Mains, 1907. Bahnsen, Greg L. Five Views on Law and Gospel. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1996. Bainton, Roland Herbert. Here I Stand: A Life of Martin Luther. New York: AbingdonCokesbury Press, 1950. Baker, Robert C. “Natural Law, Human sexuality, and Forde’s ‘Acid Test.’” In Natural Law: A Lutheran Reappraisal. Edited by Robert C. Baker and Roland Cap Ehlke, 135– 156. St. Louis, MO: Concordia Pub. House, 2011. Baker, Robert C. and Roland Cap Ehlke, eds., Natural Law: A Lutheran Reappraisal. St. Louis, MO: Concordia Pub. House, 2011. Barth, Karl. Church Dogmatics. Vol. 2, Pt. 2, Doctrine of God. Edited by G. W. Bromiley and T. F. Torrance. Translated by T.H.L. Parker. London; New York: T. & T. Clark International, 2004. –. Eine Schweizer Stimme, 1938–1945. Zurich: Theologische, 1985 (3d ed. ), 1985. –. The Epistle to the Romans. Translated by Edwyn Clement Hoskyns. London: Oxford University Press, 1933 –. “Gospel and Law,” in Community, State and Church: Three Essays. Translated by David Hadderoff. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1960. Barth, Ulrich. Die Christologie Emanuel Hirschs: eine systematische und problemgeschichtliche Darstellung ihrer geschichtsmetodologischen, erkenntniskritischen und subjektivitätstheoretischen Grundlagen. Berlin; New York: Walter de Gruyter, 1992. Bayer, Oswald. “The Being of Christ in Faith.” Lutheran Quarterly ns 10, no. 2 (1996): 135–150.

208

Bibliography

–. Creator est Creatura: Luthers Christologie als Lehre von der Idiomenkommunikation. Berlin; New York: Walter de Gruyter, 2007. –. “The Doctrine of Justification and Ontology.” Translated by Christine Helmer. Neue Zeitschrift für systematische Theologie und Religionsphilosophie 43 , no.1 (2001): 4– 53. –. “Does Evil Persist.” Translated by Christine Helmer. Lutheran Quarterly 11, no. 2 (1997): 143–150. –. “Justification As the Basis and Boundary of Theology.” Translated by Christine Helmer. Lutheran Quarterly 15, no. 3 (2001): 273–292. –. Leibliches Wort: Reformation und Neuzeit im Konflikt. Tübingen: Mohr-Siebeck, 1992. –. Living by Faith: Justification and Sanctification. Translated by Geoffrey W. Bromiley. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2003. –. Martin Luther’s Theology: A Contemporary Interpretation. Translated by Thomas H. Trapp. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008. –. “Poetological Theology: New Horizons for Systematic Theology.” Translated by Gwen Griffith-Dickson. International Journal of Systematic Theology 1, no. 2 (1999): 154– 166. –. Schöpfung als Anrede: Zur einer Hermeneutik der Schöpfung. Tübingen: Mohr-Siebeck, 1986. –. “Schöpfungslehre als Rechtfertigungsontologie.” Word-Gift-Being. Edited by Bo Kristian Holm and Peter Widmann. Tübingen: Mohr-Siebeck, 2009. –. Theologie. Gütersloh: Gütersloher, 1994. –. Theology the Lutheran Way. Translated by Jeffrey G. Silcock and Mark C. Mattes. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007. –. “The Word of the Cross.” Translated by John R. Betz. Lutheran Quarterly 9, no. 1 (1995): 47–55. –. “Worship and Ethics.” In Worship and Ethics: Lutherans and Anglicans in Dialogue, 148-161. Edited by Oswald Bayer and Alan M. Suggate. Berlin; New York: Walter de Gruyter, 1996. Bayer, Oswald, Johannes von Lüpke, and Edgar Thaidigsmann. Denkraum Katechismus: Festgabe für Oswald Bayer zum 70. Geburtstag.Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009. Bayer, Oswald, Joachim Ringleben, Notger Slenczka, and Karl-Hermann Kandler. Die Autorität Der Heiligen Schrift Für Lehre Und Verkündigung Der Kirche. Neuendettelsau: Freimund-Verlag, 2000. Becker, Ernest. The Denial of Death. New York: Free Press, 1973. Becker, Matthew. “Werner Elert in Retrospect.” Lutheran Quarterly 20 (Autumn, 2006): 249–302. –. The Self-giving God and Salvation History: The Trinitarian Theology of Johannes Von Hofmann. New York: T & T Clark International, 2004. Beckwith, Carl L. “Looking Into the Heart of Missouri: Justification, Sanctification, and the Third Use of the Law.” Concordia Theological Quarterly 69 (2005): 293–307. Benedict, XVI. “SPE SALVI” Accessed via Vatican website (accessed Jan 2, 2010) Berger, Peter L, Grace Davie, and Effie Fokas. Religious America, Secular Europe?: A Theme and Variations. Aldershot, England; Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2008. Bielfeldt, Dennis. “Martin Luther’s Theology: A Contemporary Interpretation by Oswald Bayer, a Review.” Journal of Lutheran Ethics 11, no. 7 (2011). http://www.elca.org/WhatWe-Believe/Social-Issues/Journal-of-Lutheran-Ethics/Issues/November-2011/Bielfeldton-Bayer.aspx. (accessed May 22, 2012)

Bibliography

209

–. “The Ontology of Deification.” In Tuomo Mannermaa, Oswald Bayer, Robert W. Jenson, and Simo Knuuttila, eds. Caritas Dei: Beiträge zum Verständnis Luthers und der gegenwärtigen Ökumene: Festschrift für Tuomo Mannermaa zum 60. Geburtstag, 90–113. Helsinki: Luther-Agricola-Gesellschaft, 1997. Bielfeldt, Dennis D. Mickey, Leland Mattox, and Paul R. Hinlicky. The Substance of the Faith: Luther’s Doctrinal Theology for Today. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2008. Biermann, Joel D. A Case for Character: Towards a Lutheran Virtue Ethics. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2014. Boehme, Armand J. “Tributaries Into the River JDDJ: Karl Holl and Luther’s Doctrine of Justification.” LOGIA 18 (2009): 1–16. Boehmer, Heinrich. Luther im Lichte der neueren Forschung; ein kritischer Bericht. Leipzig: B. G. Teubner, 1918. Bonhoeffer, Dietrich. The Cost of Discipleship. New York: Macmillan, 1959. Braaten, Carl E. Justification: The Article by Which the Church Stands or Falls. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1990. Braaten, Carl E, and Robert W. Jenson, eds. The Last Things: Biblical and Theological Perspectives on Eschatology. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2002. –. Union with Christ: The New Finnish Interpretation of Luther. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1998. –. “Either/or: The Gospel or Neopaganism.” Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1995. –. One Body Through the Cross: The Princeton Proposal for Christian Unity. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2003. –.The Ecumenical Future: Background Papers for in One Body Through the Cross: The Princeton Proposal for Christian Unity. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans 2004. Braaten, Carl E, Robert W. Jenson, and Gerhard O. Forde. Christian Dogmatics. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1984. Brondos, David A. “Did Paul Get Luther Right?” Dialog: A Journal of Theology 46, no. 1 (2007): 24–30. Bultmann, Rudolf. Essays, Philosophical and Theological. Translated by S. M. Ogden. New York: Macmillan, 1955. –. Existence and Faith; Shorter Writings of Rudolf Bultmann. Translated by S. M. Ogden. New York: Meridian Books, 1960. Bünker, Michael. Gesetz und Evangelium: eine Studie, auch im Blick auf die Entscheidungsfindung in ethischen Fragen; Ergebnis eines Studienprozesses der Gemeinschaft Evangelischer Kirchen in Europa (GEKE) = Law and gospel: a study, also with reference to decision-making in ethical questions). Frankfurt a. M: Lembeck, 2007. Cadbury, Henry J. The Peril of Modernizing Jesus. New York: Macmillan Co., 1937. Campbell, Douglas A. The Deliverance of God: An Apocalyptic Rereading of Justification in Paul. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2009. Camus, Albert. The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays. Translated by Justin O’Brien. New York: Vintage Books, 1983 (1955). Carson, Donald A., Peter Thomas O’Brien, and Mark A. Seifrid. Justification and Variegated Nomism. Volume I, the Complexities of Second Temple Judaism. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2001. –. Justification and Variegated Nomism Vol. 2, the Paradoxes of Paul. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2004. Cary, Philip. “Why Luther is Not Quite Protestant: The Logic of Faith in a Sacramental Promise.” Pro Ecclesia 14/4 (Fall 2005): 447-486.

210

Bibliography

Catholic Church. "Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification."Accessed May 23, 2013.http://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/pontifical_councils/chrstuni/documents/rc_pc _chrstuni_doc_31101999_cath-luth-joint-declaration_en.html. Celsor, Scott A. “Word and Faith in the Formation of Christian Existence: A Study in Gerhard Ebeling’s Rejection of the Joint Declaration” (2010). Dissertations, Marquette University, 2009. http://epublications.marquette.edu/dissertations_mu/41. Chester, Stephen J., Grant R. Osborne, Chad Brand, and Mark Seifrid. Perspectives on Our Struggle with Sin: 3 Views of Romans 7. Edited by Terry L. Wilder. Nashville: B & H Academic, 2011. Church of England. The Mystery of Salvation: The Story of God’s Gift. London: Church House Pub., 1995. –. Thomas Cranmer, C. Frederick Barbee, and Paul F. M. Zahl. The collects of Thomas Cranmer. Grand Rapids, Mich: W. B. Eerdmans, 1999. Clark, R. Scott. “Iustitia Imputata Christi: Alien or Proper to Luther’s Doctrine of Justification?” Concordia Theological Quarterly 70 (2006): 269-310. Couenhoven, John. “Law and Gospel, or the Law of the Gospel? Karl Barth: Political Theology Compared with Luther and Calvin.” Journal of Religious Ethics 30, no. 2 (2002): 181–205. Dunn, James D. G. Jesus, Paul, and the Law: Studies in Mark and Galatians. Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1990. –. “The New Perspective: Whence, What and Whither.” In The New Perspective on Paul: Collected Essays, 1-99. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2008 –. “Noch Einmal: Works of the Law.” In The New Perspective on Paul: Collected Essays. 407–423. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2008 –. The Theology of Paul the Apostle. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1998. Dunn, James D. G. and Alan M. Suggate. The Justice of God: A Fresh Look at the Old Doctrine of Justification by Faith. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1994. Ebeling, Gerhard. “The Beginnings of Luther’s Hermeneutics: The Fourfold Sense of Scripture and the Distinction Between Letter and Spirit.” Translated by Richard B. Steele. Lutheran Quarterly 7, no. 4 (1993): 451–468. –. Dogmatik des christlichen Glaubens. Band I. Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr, 1982. –. Lutherstudien. Band II, Disputatio de Homine. Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr, 1977. –. Luther: An Introduction to His Thought. Translated by R. A. Wilson. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1970. –. Theologie und Verkündigung. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck), 1963. –. Theology and Proclamation: Dialogue with Bultmann. Translated by John Riches. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1966. –. The Truth of the Gospel: An Exposition of Galatians. Translated by David Green. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1985. –. Word and Faith. Translated by J. W. Leitch. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1963. Elert, Werner. Die Lehre des Luthertums im Abriss. München: Beck, 1924. –. Law and Gospel. Translated by Edward H. Schroeder. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1976. –. The Structure of Lutheranism. Translated by Walter A. Hansen. Saint Louis: Concordia, 1962. –. Zwischen Gnade und Ungnade: Abwandlungen des Themas Gesetz und Evangelium. München: Evangelischer Presseverband für Bayern, 1948. Engelbrecht, Edward. Friends of the Law: Luther’s Use of the Law for the Christian Life. St. Louis: Concordia, 2011.

Bibliography

211

Feuerbach, Ludwig. The essence of Christianity. Translated by George Eliot. New York: Prometheus Books, 1989. Ford, David. The Future of Christian Theology. Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2011. Forde, Gerhard O., Joseph A. Burgess, and Marc Kolden, editors. By faith alone: essays on justification in honor of Gerhard O. Forde. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2004 Forde, Gerhard O. “Forensic Justification and Law in Lutheran Theology.” In Justification by Faith: Lutherans and Catholics in Dialogue VII. Edited by H. George Anderson, T. Austin Murphy, and Joseph A. Burgess, 278–303. Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1985. –. On Being a Theologian of the Cross: Reflections on Luther’s Heidelberg Disputation, 1518. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1997. –. The Captivation of the Will: Luther vs. Erasmus on Freedom and Bondage. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans (Lutheran Quarterly Books), 2005. –. “Caught in the Act: Reflections on the Work of Christ.” World 3, no. 1 (1983): 22–31. –. “The Exodus From Virtue to Grace: Justification by Faith Today.” Interpretation 34, no. 1 (1980): 32–44. –. “Is Forgiveness Enough? Reflections on An Odd Question.” World 16, no. 3 (1996): 302–308. –. Justification by Faith: A Matter of Life and Death. St. Louis: Fortress Press, 1982. –. The Law-Gospel Debate: An Interpretation of Its Historical Development. Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1969. –. “A Lutheran Response.” In Christian Spirituality: Five Views of Sanctification, 77–82. Edited by Donald Alexander. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1988. –. A More Radical Gospel: Essays on Eschatology, Authority, Atonement, and Ecumenism. Edited by Mark C. Mattes and Steven D. Paulson. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2004. –. “The Normative Character of Scripture for Matters of Faith and Life: Human Sexuality in Light of Romans 1:16–32.” World 14, no. 3 (1994): 305–314. –. The Preached God: Proclamation in Word and Sacrament. Edited by Mark C. Mattes, and Steven D. Paulson. Grand Rapids, Mich: W. B. Eerdmans, 2007. –. “Preaching the Sacraments.” Lutheran Theological Seminary Bulletin 64, no. 4 (1984): 3–27. –. “Robert Jenson’s Soteriology.” In Trinity, Time, and Church: A Response to the Theology of Robert W. Jenson, edited by Robert Jenson and Colin Gunton, 126–138. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2000. –. “Something to Believe: A Theological Perspective on Infant Baptism.” Interpretation 47, no. 3 (1993): 229–241. –. Theology Is for Proclamation. Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1990. Foster, Richard J. Celebration of Discipline: The Path to Spiritual Growth. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1978. Fuller, Daniel P. Gospel and Law: Contrast or Continuum?: The Hermeneutics of Dispensationalism and Covenant Theology. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1980. Gathercole, Simon J. Where Is Boasting?: Early Jewish Soteriology and Paul’s Response in Romans 1–5. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2002. Grane, Leif. “Erwägungen zur Ontologie Luthers.” Neue Zeitschrift für Systematische Theologie un Religionsphilosophie [NZSTh] 13:2 (1971):188–198. Green, Lowell C. “Law and Gospel: Philip Melanchthon’s Debate with John Agricola of Eisleben Over ‘Poenitentia,’ by T.J. Wengert, 1997.” Review. Concordia Theological Quarterly 64, no. 1 (2000): 61–68.

212

Bibliography

Gregersen, N. “Ten Theses on the Future of Lutheran Theology: Charisms, Contexts, and Challenges.” Dialog 41, no. 4 (2002): 264–272. Grislis, Egil. “Luther in Review: Approaches in Major Studies: A Bibliographical Perspective.” World 3, no. 4 (1983): 435–447. Gritsch, Eric W, and Robert W Jenson. Lutheranism: The Theological Movement and Its Confessional Writings. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1976. Hampson, Margaret Daphne. Christian Contradictions: The Structures of Lutheran and Catholic Thought. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006. Harnack, Adolf von. History of Dogma. Translated by Neil Buchanan. New York: Dover Publications, 1961. Härle, W. “Analytische Und Synthetische Urteile in Der Rechtfertigungslehre.” Neue Zeitschrift für Systematische Theologie und Religionsphilosophie [NZSTh] 16, no. 1 (1974): 17–34. Heidegger, Martin. Sein und Zeit. Tübingen: M. Niemeyer, 1967. –. Pathmarks. Translated and edited by William McNeill. Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 1998. Helmer, Christine. “The American Luther.” Dialog: A Journal of Theology 47, no. 2 (2008): 114–124. –, ed. The Global Luther: A Theologian for Modern Times. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2009. –. “The Liberal Luther and Modern Theology.” Faith in Public Lecture Series 2009-2010 at Waterloo Lutheran Seminary (Canada), Nov. 12, 2009. Accessed via http://www.religion.northwestern.edu/faculty/helmer.html –. The Trinity and Martin Luther: A Study on the Relationship Between Genre, Language and the Trinity in Luther’s Works (1523– 1546). Mainz: von Zabern, 1999. Hendrix, Scott H. “The Future of Luther’s Theology.” Dialog 47, no. 2 (2008): 125–135. Hesselink, John. “Law and Gospel or Gospel and Law? Karl Barth, Martin Luther and John Calvin,” Reformation and Revival Journal 14, no.1 (2005): 139-171. Hillerbrand, Hans J. “Was There a Reformation in the Sixteenth Century?” Church History 72, no. 3 (2003). Hinlicky, Paul R. Paths Not Taken: Fates of Theology From Luther Through Leibniz. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans,., 2009. –. “Luther’s Anti-Docetism in the Disputation de divinitate et humanitate Christi (1540),” in Creator est creatura: Luthers Christologie als Lehre von der Idiomenkommunikation, 139–182. Edited by Oswald Bayer and Benjamin Gleede. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2007. –. “Theological Anthropology: Toward Integrating Theosis and Justification by Faith.” Journal of Ecumenical Studies 34 (1997): 38–73. Holl, Karl. Gesammelte Aufsätze zur Kirchengeschichte. 3, Der Westen. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1965. –. Was verstand Luther unter Religion? Tübingen: Mohr, 1917. –. What Did Luther Understand by Religion? Edited by Walter F. Bense and Fred W. Meuser. Translated by Fred W. Meuser and Walter R. Wietzke. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1977. The Holy Bible ESV: English Standard Version: Containing the Old and New Testaments. Wheaton: Crossway Bibles, 2007. Holm, Bo Krisitan and Peter Widman eds. “Introduction.” Word-Gift-Being. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009. Hunsinger, George. “Robert Jenson’s Systematic Theology: A Review Essay.” Scottish Journal of Theology 55, no. 2 (2002): 161–200.

Bibliography

213

–. “What Karl Barth Learned From Martin Luther.” Lutheran Quarterly 13, no. 2 (1999): 125–155. Hütter, Reinhard. “Theological Faith Enlightening Sacred Theology: Renewing Theology by Recovering Its Unity As Sacra Doctrina.” The Thomist 74, no. 3 (2010): 369–406. –. Suffering Divine Things: Theology As Church Practice. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2000. Jenson, Robert W. Alpha and Omega; A Study in the Theology of Karl Barth. New York: Nelson, 1963. –. Essays in Theology of Culture. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans,1995. –. “How the World Lost Its Story: As Our Changing Culture Struggled to Define Itself, the Theologian Robert W. Jenson Mournes the Missing Narrative of a Universe Gone Postmodern and Mad.” First Things, no. 201 (2010): 31–37. –. “God’s Time, Our Time–An Interview with Robert W. Jenson.” The Christian Century 123, no. 9 (2006): 31–35. –. The Knowledge of Things Hoped For: The Sense of Theological Discourse. New York: Oxford University Press, 1969. –. “Response to Watson and Hunsinger.” Scottish Journal of Theology 55, no. 02 (2002): 225–232. –. “The ‘sorry’ State of Lutherans.” Dialog: A Journal of Theology 22, no. 4 (1983): 280– 283. –. Story and promise; a brief theology of the gospel about Jesus. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1973. –. Systematic Theology. Vol. 1 the Triune God. New York: Oxford University Press, 1997. –. Systematic Theology 2, the Works of God. New York: Oxford Univ. Pr., 1999. –. “A Theological Autobiography, to Date.” Dialog: A Journal of Theology 46, no. 1 (2007): 46–54. –. “Wilhelm Dilthey and a Background Problem of Theology.” Lutheran Quarterly 15, no. 3 (1963): 212–222. Jenson, Robert W., and Colin E. Gunton. Trinity, Time, and Church: A Response to the Theology of Robert W. Jenson. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2000. Joest, Wilfried. Gesetz und Freiheit. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1961. –. Ontologie der Person bei Luther. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1967. John Paul II. Veritatis Splendor. London: CTS/Veritas, 1998. http://www.vatican .va/holy_father/john_paul_ii/encyclicals/documents/hf_jp-ii_enc_06081993_veritatissplendor_en.html Accessed May 18, 2013. Johnson, Luke Timothy. “[Review] Perspectives Old and New on Paul: The ‘Lutheran’ Paul and His Critics.” Theological Studies 67, no. 2 (2006): 456. Jüngel, Eberhard. Justification: The Heart of the Christian Faith : A Theological Study with An Ecumenical Purpose. Translated by Jeffrey F. Cayzer. New York: T & T Clark, 2006. Kärkkäinen, Veli-Matti. “Salvation As Justification and Theosis: The Contribution of the New Finnish Luther Interpretation to Our Ecumenical Future.” Dialog: A Journal of Theology 45, no. 1 (2006): 74–82. Kevan, Ernest Frederick. The Grace of Law: A Study in Puritan Theology. London: Carey Kingsgate Press, 1964. Kilcrease, Jack D. The self-donation of God: Gerhard Forde and the question of atonement in the Lutheran tradition Thesis (Ph. D.) – Marquette University, 2009.

214

Bibliography

Kimel, Alvin F, ed. Speaking the Christian God: The Holy Trinity and the Challenge of Feminism. Grand Rapids, Mich.; Leominster, England: W. B. Eerdmans; Gracewing, 1992. Kittel, Gerhard, Geoffrey William Bromiley, and Gerhard Friedrich. Theological dictionary of the New Testament. Grand Rapids, Mich: Eerdmans, 1964. Knight, Douglas. “Jenson on Time.” Trinity, Time, and Church: A Response to the Theology of Robert W. Jenson, edited by Robert Jenson and Colin Gunton, 71-–79. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2000 Koch, John D. Theological Anthropology and the Hermeneutics of Romans 7. Master of Divinity Honors Thesis, Trinity Episcopal School for Ministry, 2007. Kraft, Constanze, ed. Rechtfertigung kontrovers: die Gemeinsame Erklärung zur Rechtifertibungslehre im Gespräch der Konfessionen. Berlin: WDL-Verl., 2000. Kupisch, Karl. “The ‘Luther Renaissance’.” Journal of Contemporary History 2, no. 4 (1967): 39–49. Kümmel, Werner Georg. Römer 7 und das Bild des Menschen im Neuen Testament; Zwei Studien. München: C. Kaiser, 1974. Laato, Timo. Paul and Judaism: An Anthropological Approach. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1995. Labron, Tim. Bultmann Unlocked. London: T. & T. Clark, 2011. Leuenberger, Samuel. Archbishop Cranmer’s Immortal Bequest: The Book of Common Prayer of the Church of England: An Evangelistic Liturgy. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1990. Lindbeck, George. The Nature of Doctrine: Religion and Theology in a Postliberal Age Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1984. Lindberg, C. “Do Lutherans Shout Justification but Whisper Sanctification?” Lutheran Quarterly 13 (1999): 1–30. Loewenich, Walther von. Luther’s Theology of the Cross. Translated by Herbert J. A. Bouman. Minneapolis: Augsburg Pub. House, 1976. Lotz, David W. Ritschl & Luther: A Fresh Perspective on Albrecht Ritschl’s Theology in the Light of His Luther Study. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1974. de Lubac, Henri. Medieval Exegesis: The Four Senses of Scripture. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1998. Luther, Martin. Luther’s Works. Edited by Jaroslav Pelikan and Helmut T. Lehmann. 56 vols. Philadelphia: Fortress Press: Concordia Publishing House, 1955–86. –. “The Distinction Between Law and Gospel,” Translated by Williard L. Burce, Concordia Journal 18 (April 1992): 153-63. –. Solus Decalogus est Aeternus = Martin Luther’s Complete Antinomian Theses and Disputations. Translated by Holger Sonntag. Minneapolis, MN: Lutheran Press, 2008. Lutheran, Church–Missouri. The Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification in Confessional Lutheran Perspective. St. Louis: Commission on Theology and Church Relations, the Lutheran Church–Missouri Synod, 1999. Lutheran World Federation, Assembly. 1965. Proceedings of the Fourth Assembly of the Lutheran World Federation, Helsinki, July 30 - August 11, 1963. Berlin: Lutherisches Verlagshaus. 1965. MacCulloch, Diarmaid. “Putting the Reformation on the Map: the Prothero Lecture.” Transactions of the Royal Historical Society 15, no. 1 (2005): 75-95. –. Thomas Cranmer : A Life. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1996. Mannermaa, Tuomo, and Kirsi Irmeli Stjerna. Christ Present in Faith: Luther’s View of Justification. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2005.

Bibliography

215

Mannermaa, Tuomo, Oswald Bayer, Robert W. Jenson, and Simo Knuuttila. Caritas Dei: Beiträge zum Verständnis Luthers und der gegenwärtigen Ökumene: Festschrift für Tuomo Mannermaa zum 60. Geburtstag. Helsinki: Luther-Agricola-Gesellschaft, 1997. Marquart, Kurt E. “Luther and Theosis.” Concordia Theological Quarterly 64:3 (2000) Mattes, Mark C. “Beyond the Impasse: Re-examining the Third Use of the Law.” Concordia Theological Quarterly 69 , no. 3–4 (2005): 271–291. –. The Role of Justification in Contemporary Theology. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2004. –. “The Thomistic Turn in Evangelical Catholic Ethics.” Lutheran Quarterly ns 16, no. 1 (2002): 65–100. Mattes, Mark C., and Steven Paulson. “Introduction.” A More Radical Gospel: Essays on Eschatology, Authority, Atonement, and Ecumenism, x-xxviii. Edited by Mark C. Mattes and Steven D. Paulson. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2004 Maxfield, John A., ed. A Justification Odyssey: Papers Presented at the Congress on the Lutheran Confessions, Bloomingdale, Illinois, April 19–21, 2001. St. Louis: Luther Academy, 2002. McCormack, Bruce. “Lecture 1: Is the Reformation Over? Reflections on the Place of the Doctrine of God in Evangelical Theology Today.” Lecture, Kanzer Lectures Trinity Evangelical Divinity School, Deerfield, IL, September 27-October 4, 2011 Accessed June 1, 2012. McGrath, Alister E. Iustitia Dei: A History of the Christian Doctrine of Justification. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993. Menacher, Mark D. “Gerhard Ebeling in Retrospect.” Lutheran Quarterly 21, no. 2 (2007): 163–196. –. “Gerhard Ebeling’s Lifelong Kirchenkampf As Theological Method.” Lutheran Quarterly 18, no. 1 (2004): 1–27. –. “German Professors Protest JDDJ.” Accessed May 10, 2013. http://www.wordalone.org/docs/wa-german-professors.shtml Murray, Scott R. Law, Life, and the Living God: The Third Use of Law in Modern American Lutheranism. St. Louis: Concordia, 2002. Nafzger, Samuel H. “Joint Declaration on Justification: A Missouri Synod Perspective.” Concordia Journal 27, no. 3 (2001): 178–195. Nestingen, James Arne. “Changing Definitions: The Law in Fomula VI.” Concordia Theological Quarterly 69:3–4 (2005): 259-270. –. “Examining Sources: Influences on Gerhard Forde’s Theology.” In By Faith Alone: Essays on Justification in Honor of Gerhard O. Forde. Edited by Gerhard O. Forde, Joseph A Burgess, and Marc Kolden, 10–21. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2004. –. “Distinguishing Law and Gospel: A Functional View” Concordia Journal 22 (January, 1996): 27–34. Noll, Mark A, and Carolyn Nystrom. Is the Reformation Over?: An Evangelical Assessment of Contemporary Roman Catholicism. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2005. Novak, David. “Law and Eschatology: A Jewish-Christian Intersection.” In The Last Things: Biblical and Theological Perspectives on Eschatology, edited by, Carl E. Braaten and Robert W Jenson, 90-113. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2002 Null, J. Ashley. Thomas Cranmer’s Doctrine of Repentance: Renewing the Power to Love. Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2000. Oden, Thomas C. The Justification Reader. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2002.

216

Bibliography

O’Donovan, Oliver. Resurrection and Moral Order: An Outline for Evangelical Ethics. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1986. Olson, Roger E. “Deification in Contemporary Theology.” Theology Today 64, no. 2 (2007): 186–200. Pannenberg, Wolfhart. Christian Spirituality and Sacramental Community. London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 1984. Paulson, Steven D. “The Augustinian Imperfection: Faith, Christ, and Imputation and Its Role in the Ecumenical Discussion of Justification.” In The Gospel of justification in Christ: where does the church stand today? Edited by Wayne Stumme, 104–124. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2006. –. “Lutheran Assertions Regarding Scripture.” Lutheran Quarterly 17, no. 4 (2003): 373– 385. –. Lutheran Theology. London; New York: T. & T. Clark International, 2011. –. Luther for Armchair Theologians. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2004. Piper, John. Counted Righteous in Christ: Should We Abandon the Imputation of Christ’s Righteousness? Wheaton: Crossway Books, 2002. Pinnock, C. H. “Theology and Myth: An Evangelical Response to Demythologizing.” Bibliotheca Sacra 128 (1971): 215–226. Pless, John T. Handling the Word of Truth: Law and Gospel in the Church Today. St. Louis: Concordia, 2004. –. “The Use and Misuse of Luther in Contemporary Debates on Homosexuality: A Look at Two Theologians.” Lutheran Forum 39, no. 2 (2005): 50–57. Prenter, Regin. Spiritus Creator. Translated by John M. Jensen. Philadelphia: Muhlenberg Press, 1953. Preus, Robert D. Justification and Rome. St. Louis: Concordia, 1997. Rast, Larwence R. “The Third Use of the Law: Keeping Up to Date with An Old Issue.” Concordia Theological Quarterly 69:3-4 (2005): 187-190. Ratzinger, Cardinal Joseph. “Luther and the Unity of the Churches.” Communio 11, no. 3 (1984): 210–226. Accessed August 10, 2010. http://www.communio-icr.com/files/ratzinger11-3.pdf Reno, R. R. “The Antinomian Gospel.” First Things: A Monthly Journal of Religion and Public Life. New York: Institute on Religion and Public Life, 1990. Accessed September 2, 2011. http://www.firstthings.com/blogs/firstthoughts/2010/10/theantinomian-gospel Rolf, Sibylle. “Luther’s Understanding of Imputatio in the Context of His Doctrine of Justification and Its Consequences for the Preaching of the Gospel.” International Journal of Systematic Theology 12, no. 4 (2010): 435–451. –. Zum Herzen sprechen: Eine Studie zum imputativen Aspekt in Martin Luthers Rechtfertigungslehre und zu Seinen Konsequenzen für die Predigt des Evangeliums. Leipzig: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 2008. Saarinen, Risto. “Finnish Luther Studies: A Story and a Program,” in Engaging Luther: A (new) Theological Assessment, 1–26. Edited by Olli-Pekka Vainio. Eugene: Cascade Books, 2010. –. Gottes wirken auf Uns: Die Transzendentale Deutung des Gegenwart-Christi-Motivs in der Lutherforschung. Stuttgart: Steiner Verlag Wiesbaden, 1989. –. “How Luther Got Paul Right.” Dialog: A Journal of Theology 46, no. 2 (2007): 170– 173. –. “The Pauline Luther and the Law: Lutheran Theology Reengages the Study of Paul.” Pro Ecclesia 15, no. 1 (2006): 64–86.

Bibliography

217

Sanders, E P. Jesus and Judaism. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1985. –. Paul: A Very Short Introduction. Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2001. –. Paul and Palestinian Judaism: A Comparison of Patterns of Religion. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1977. Sartre, Jean-Paul. Being and Nothingness: An Essay on Phenomenological Ontology. New York: Philosophical Library, 1956. Schaeffer, Hans. Createdness and Ethics: The Doctrine of Creation and Theological Ethics in the Theology of Colin E. Gunton and Oswald Bayer. Berlin; New York: de Gruyter, 2006. Scaer, D. P. “The Concept of Anfechtung in Luther’s Thought.” Concordia Theological Quarterly 47, no. 1 (1983): 15–30. Schenk, R. “The Unsettled German Discussions of Justification: Abiding Differences and Ecumenical Blessings.” Dialog 44, no. 2 (2005): 152-163. Schroeder, Edward H. “Relationship Between Dogmatics and Ethics in the Thought of Elert, Barth, and Troeltsch.” Concordia Theological Monthly 36, no. 11 (1965): 744– 771. Schultz, Robert C. Gesetz und Evangelium in der Lutherischen Theologie Des 19 Jahrhunderts. Berlin: Lutherisches Verlagshaus, 1958. Schwarzwäller, Klaus. “The Braaten-Jenson Dogmatics.” Lutheran Quarterly 3 (1989): 1– 48. Schweitzer, Albert. The Mysticism of Paul the Apostle. Translated by William Montgomery. New York: H. Holt and Co., 1931. Schwöbel, Christoph. “A Quest for An Adequate Theology of Grace and the Future of Lutheran Theology: A Response to Robert W. Jenson.” Dialog: A Journal of Theology 42, no. 1 (2003): 24–31. Scruton, Roger. The Face of God. London: Continuum, 2012. Seifrid, Mark A. “‘The Gift of Salvation’: Its Failure to Address the Crux of Justification.” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 42, no. 4 (December, 1999): 679-688. –. “Romans 7: The Voice of the Law” in Steven J. Chester, Grant R. Osborne, Chad Brand, and Mark Seifrid. Perspectives on Our Struggle with Sin: 3 Views of Romans 7, 111– 165. Edited by Terry L. Wilder. Nashville: B & H Academic, 2011. Shults, F. LeRon. The Postfoundationalist Task of Theology: Wolfhart Pannenberg and the New Theological Rationality. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1999. Siemon-Netto, Uwe. The Fabricated Luther: The Rise and Fall of the Shirer Myth. St. Louis: Concordia, 1995. Slenczka, Notger. “Fides creatrix divinitatis. Zu einer These Luthers und zugleich zum Verhältnis von Theologie und Glaube.” In Denkraum Katechismus: Festgabe für Oswald Bayer zum 70. Geburtstag, 71-96. Edited by Johannes von Lüpke, and Oswald Bayer. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009. –. “Pluralismus in der Kirche.” In Der Tod Gottes und das Leben des Menschen, 295–310. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2003. –. “Gott und das Böse: Die Lehre von der Obrigkeit und von den Zwei Reichen bei Luther.” Luther 79, no. 2 (2008): 75–94. –. “Thomas von Aquin und die Synthese zwischen dem biblischen und dem griechischrömischen Gesetzesbegriff.” In Der biblische Gesetzesbegriff. Auf den Spuren seiner Säkularisierung, 109–149, edited by Okko Behrends. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 2006.

218

Bibliography

Slenczka, Notger, Walter Sparn, and Jörg Baur. Luthers Erben: Studien zur Rezeptionsgeschichte der reformatorischen Theologie Luthers; Festschrift für Jörg Baur zum 75. Geburtstag. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005. Söhngen, Gottlieb. Gesetz und Evangelium: Ihre Analoge Einheit, Theologischphilosophisch-staatsbürgerlich. Freiburg; München: K. Alber, 1957. Stanley, Timothy. Protestant Metaphysics After Karl Barth and Martin Heidegger. London: Scm, 2010. Stendahl, Krister. “The Apostle Paul and the Introspective Conscience of the West.” In Paul Among Jews and Gentiles, and Other Essays, 78-96. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1976. Stephenson, John R. “The Two Governments and the Two Kingdoms in Luther’s Thought.” Scottish Journal of Theology, Vol. 34 (1981): 321–337. Stumme, Wayne. The Gospel of Justification in Christ: Where Does the Church Stand Today? Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2006. Taylor, Charles. A Secular Age. Cambridge: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2007. Tappert, Theodore G. The Book of Concord: The Confessions of the Evangelical Lutheran Church. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1959. Thiselton, Anthony C. Hermeneutics: An Introduction. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2009. Thompson, Virgil, Oswald Bayer, and Gerhard O. Forde. Justification Is for Preaching: Essays by Oswald Bayer, Gerhard O. Forde, and Others. Eugene: Pickwick Publications, 2012. Tranvik, Mark D. “Luther, Gerhard Forde and the Gnostic Threat to the Gospel.” Lutheran Quarterly 22, no. 4 (2008): 415–426. Trueman, Carl. “A Man More Sinned Against Than Sinning? The Portrait of Martin Luther in Contemporary New Testament Scholarship: Some Casual Observations of a Mere Historian.” Paper delivered at the Tyndale Fellowship in Cambridge. (2000) Accessed May 15, 2010. http://www.thepaulpage.com/a-man-more-sinned-against-thansinning-a-response-to-carl-trueman/ Vainio, Olli-Pekka. “Faith.” In Engaging Luther: A (new) Theological Assessment, 138– 154. Edited by Olli-Pekka Vainio. Eugene: Cascade Books, 2010. Vogel, Manfred H. “The Barth-Feuerbach Confrontation.” The Harvard Theological Review 59, no. 1 (1966): 27–52. Vogel, Larry M. “A Third Use of the Law: Is the Phrase Necessary?” Concordia Theological Quarterly 69 no. 3–4 (2005):191–220 Wainwright, Geoffrey. Is the Reformation Over? Milwaukee: Marquette University Press, 2000. Watson, Francis. Paul, Judaism, and the Gentiles: Beyond the New Perspective. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2007. Wendebourg, D. “Noch einmal »Den falschen Weg Roms zu Ende gegangen?« Auseinandersetzung mit meinen Kritikern.” Zeitschrift für Theologie und Kirche 99, no. 4 (2002): 400–440. Wengert, Timothy J. Law and Gospel: Philip Melanchthon’s Debate with John Agricola of Eisleben Over Poenitentia. Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1997. –. “[review] Union with Christ: The New Finnish Interpretation of Luther.” Theology Today 56, no. 3 (1999): 432–434. Westerholm, Stephen. Perspectives Old and New on Paul: The “Lutheran” Paul and His Critics. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004.

Bibliography

219

Westhelle, Vitor. “Luther on the Authority of Scripture.” Lutheran Quarterly 20 (2005): 373-391. Westphal, Merold. Overcoming Onto-theology: Toward a Postmodern Christian Faith. New York: Fordham Univ. Press, 2001. –. Whose Community? Which Interpretation: Philosophical Hermeneutics for the Church. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2009. Whitehead, Alfred North. Process and Reality: An Essay in Cosmology. Edited by David Ray Griffin, and Donald W. Sherburne. New York: Free Press, 1978. Willard, Dallas. The Spirit of the Disciplines: Understanding How God Changes Lives. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1988. Wingren, Gustaf. Creation and Law. Philadelphia: Muhlenberg Press, 1961. Wolff, Otto. Die Haupttypen der neueren Lutherdeutung. Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1938. Wright, N. T. Justification: God’s Plan and Paul’s Vision. London: SPCK, 2009. –. The New Testament and the People of God. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992. –. What St Paul Really Said. Oxford: Lion, 1997. Yeago, David S. “Gnosticism, Antinomianism, and Reformation Theology: Reflections on the Costs of a Construal.” Pro Ecclesia 2, no. 1 (1993): 37-49. –. “Martin Luther on Grace, Law, and the Moral Life: Prolegomena to an Ecumenical Discussion of Veritatis Splendor.” The Thomist 62 (1998), 163-191 –. “The Catholic Luther.” First Things (March, 1996): 37-41. Accessed July 17, 2010. http://www.firstthings.com/article/1996/03/004-the-catholic-luther Zahl, Paul F M. The First Christian: Universal Truth in the Teachings of Jesus. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2003. –. The Protestant Face of Anglicanism. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 1998. –. A Short Systematic Theology. Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans, 2000. Zahl, Simeon. Pneumatology and Theology of the Cross in the Preaching of Christoph Friedrich Blumhardt the Holy Spirit Between Wittenberg and Azusa Street. New York: T&T Clark, 2010.

Name Index Alexander, Donald 13f., 192f. Althaus, Paul 44, 67, 73f., Assel, Heinrich 64f. Aune, David E 3f. Austin, J. L. 50, 156f. Bainton, Roland 97–98 Baker, Robert 40f. Barbee, C. Frederick 169 Barrett, C. K. 103f. Barth, Karl 54, 72–87, 94, 110, 120, 126, 159 Barth, Ulrich 63f. Bayer, Oswald 7–8, 20-24, 30–34, 41– 47, 49–52, 55, 59–61, 71–78, 81– 82, 87f, 89, 95, 96-97, 103, 110, 115, 118–122, 126f., 130–148, 154– 157, 158f., 163–177, 182–186, 192– 193 Becker, Ernst 32f., 157f. Becker, Matthew 36f., 55f. Beckwith, Carl 45f. Bense, Walter 61f., 66 Bielfeldt, Dennis 29, 34–36, 121f., 123f. Boehmer, Heinrich 9 Boehme, Armand 3f., 62f. Bonhhoeffer, Dietrich 5 Braaten, Carl 3–4, 62f., 68, 69, 72f., 121 Bühler, P.T 8 Bultmann, Rudolph 22, 24, 28, 31–32, 35, 38–39, 48, 83–84, 94–99, 102, 110–115 Cadbury, Henry J. 97 Calvin, John 45, 103 Campbell, Douglas 12f., 74f. Carson, D.A 61f., 153f,

Celsor, Scott 15f., 20f. Church of England Doctrinal Comission 13f. Clark, Scott 9, 60, 140f. de Lubac, Henri 172f. Dieter, Theodor 10 Dulles, Avery Cardinal 11 Dunn, James 12f., 74f, 94f., 98f., 101– 102, 106, 114, 115, 116f. Ebeling, Gerhard 6f., 8, 15–24, 27–43, 47–52, 77–78, 130–134, 137–139, 146–153, 165f., 172–173 – "Theological Reflections on the Law" 8 – on law and gospel 15–16, 18f., 19, 21, – and existentialism 32–40, – on the uses of the law 77–79 Elert, Werner 32f., 55–56, 68f., 74, 80f., 121 Ferguson, Sinclair 13f. Feuerbach, Ludwig 74f., 76f., 133 Ford, David 1–2 Forde, Gerhard 4, 20–24, 39–43,49, 52– 53, 63–64, 84f., 85–87, 90, 96-97, 160162, 177 – on soteriology 16 – on Karl Holl 70–71, 80 – and the "systematic problem" 51, 91, 143 – on Karl Barth 73 – on siuml iustus et peccator 107, 115 – on "forensic justificaion" 132, 137 – on sin as unbelief 145–146 – on anfechtung 157–159

222

Name Index

– on the sacraments 164–166 – on the authority of scripture 169–176 – on the impossibility of antinomianism 177–192 Gathercole, Simon 12f. Gregersen, Niels 10f., 119 Grislis, Egil 2f. Gritsch, Eric 27f., 90f. Hamann, Johann Georg 156, 193f. Hampson, Daphne 19, 135f. Härle, Wilfred 62f. Heidegger, Martin 28f, 32, 94, 96, 97f, 186 Helmer, Christine 44f., 63f., 74f., 96, 118–119, 142 – on the currect state of German/American Luther studies 26 – on Karl Holl 67–68 – on Oswald Bayer 120 Hendrix, Scott 163 Hesselink, John 79f. Hillerbrand, Hans 4 Hinlicky, Paul 69f., 122, 147f. Holl, Karl 1, 54, 61–72, 80-83, 90–91, 105–107, 120, 139, 142, 159 Holm, Bo Kristian 193f. Holmann, Joshua 22f. Hunsinger, George 31, 76f. Hütter, Reinhard 5, 11f., 95 Jenson, Robert 3, 21–22, 26–34, 54, 56, 68, 72, 81–92, 118, 120–121, 125, 140, 145, 184 Joest, Wilfried 123f., 136f. Johnson, Luke Timothy 103–104 Jüngel, Eberhard 1f., 185f. Kant, Immanuel 63–64, 68, 69f., 95, 117–124 Kärkkäinen, Veli-Matti 116f. Kilcrease, Jack 20f.

Kimel, Alvin 91f. Koch, John D. 110f. Kraft, Constance 3f Laato, Timo 104 Labron, Tim 39f. Leuenberger, Samuel 165f. Lexutt, Athina 6f. Linberg, Carter 61-62 Lindbeck, George 5f. Lotz, David 70 Luther, Martin 142, 165–166, – and anfechtung 6 – on the correct way of studying theology 7-9 – on his reformation breakthrough 14f. – on the nature of the law 16f. – on distinguishing law and gospel 16– 17 – on law and gospel 18f. – on the abuse of law and gospel 32f. – on the experiential nature of theology 34f. – on the writing of new laws 35f. – on the “three lights” 51f. – on distinguishing law and gospel as art 52f. – on the hiddness of god 65f. – on the terror of the law 108f. – on love and faith 131 – on fides est creatrix divinitatis 133f., 140 – on alien righteousness 144f. – on the sin of unbelief 145 – on concupsicence 161f. – on the conscience 161f. – on the fourfold reading of scripture 173f. – on the bondage of the will 174 – on the impossiblity of antinomianism 178–180, 184 – on "why then the law?" 190–191

223

Name Index MacCulloch, Diarmaid 9f., 14f. Mannermaa, Tuomo 116–123, 140 Mattes, Mark 8, 22f., 93, 156f. – on the "Thomistic Turn" 59-60 McCormack, Bruce 18 McGrath, Alistair 1, 61f. Menacher, Mark 3f., 20f. Murray, R. Scott 39f. Nestingen, James 39, 41-42, 52 Newman, John Henry 14f., 132f. Noll, Mark 5f. Piper, John 12f., 105f. Pless, John 55f. Pope John Paul 181f., 182 Prenter, Regin 68f., 69 Preus, Robert 182f. Rast, Larwence 45f. Ratzinger, Cardinal Joseph 18f., 88, 95 – on Luther and the Reformation 127– 134 Rolf, Sybille 124f., 127f., 132–133 Root, Michael 2f., Saarinen, Risto 68f., 69f., 117f., 120– 125, 123f., 126f. Sanders, E.P. 94, 106–107 Sartre, Jean Paul 184 Scaer, David 7, Schaeffer, Hans 20f., 154f., 158 Schenk, Richard 3f Schroeder, Edward 55f. Schultz, Robert 64f. Schwöbel, Christoph 17, 144f. Seifrid, Mark 18f., 106, 113f., 156f., 160 Shults, F. LeRon 121f. Siemon-Netto, Uwe 57f., 74f. Silcock, Jeffrey 8 Slenczka, Notger 15f., 46f., 64–65, 72f., 137f., 170f. Söhngren, Gerhard 14–15

Novak, David 17 Null, J. Ashley 14f. Nystrom, Carolyn 5f. O'Donovan, Oliver 57 Oden, Thomas 15f. Olson, Roger 123 Pannenberg, Wolfhart 24, 94, 108 –110 Paulson, Steven 68f., 92f., 97, 127f., 150f., 190f., 191 Pinnock, C. H. 110 Stendahl, Krister 94–106 Stephenson, John 73 Stjerna, Kirsi 117 Taylor, Charles 5f The Episcopal Church 165f. Thiselton, Anthony C. 175f. Trueman, Carl 97f., 110f. Vainio, Olli-Pekka 129f. Vogel, Larry 45f. Vogel, Manfred 76f. Von Harnack, Adolf 100 Von Lowenich, Walter 67 Wainwright, Geoffrey 5f. Waston, Francis 96, 103f. Wengert, Timothy 61f., 125f. Westerholm, Stephen 100f., 101f., 103– 104 Westphal, Merold 26f., 68f., 69f., 94f., 122f., 143f., 175f. White, Graham 21f. Widman, Peter 154f., 193f. Wingren, Gustaf 155f. Wolff, Otto 64f. Wright, N.T. 12f., 74f., 94f., 104–107 Yeago, David 54–60, 92 Zahl, Paul F.M 37f., 165f., 169, 175f. Zahl, Simeon 181f.

Subject Index Anfechtung 77, 79–83, 126, 138–139, 141, 143, 157–158, 162–163, 166, 168–172, 175, 177–180, 189 – in Luther's thought 6-9 – and the 30 – in Karl Holl 54, 61–71 – and the "introspective conscience" 106–107 Antinomianism 23–27, 33, 103, 116, 140–141 149, 176–179, 184–187, 191–192 – charges of 25–27 – and gnosticism 54–60, 89–91, 95, 115, 125, 139–140 deus absconditus 22f., 52 Galatians Lectures of 1535 18, 131, 180, 190 Finnish Lutheran School, The 10, 24, 68, 95, 117, 122–126, 139, 142, 161–162

Neo-kantianism 63–64, 68, 95, 117, 118–123, 139 Partiularizing theologies 1–2 Psalms, Book of 6–7, 80, 86 Real-Ontic 122–124, 162 Reformational Evangelicalism 9 Relational ontology 118, 123–124 Romans, Book of 101, 152 Simul Iustus et Peccator 2f, 24, 71, 94– 95, 107, 115–116 Soteriology – and the law 16-17 – and ecclesiology 104–105 Subjectum theologiae 23, 37, 44–45, 102, 146 174, 184, 191-192 The Joint Declaration on Justification 2–3, 15f, 21, 75, 95 The "Thomistic Turn" 57–60 Theosis 39f, 116f, 161, 165

Index of Biblical References Genesis 32

46

Deuteronomy 6:20–25

182

Psalms 119

6–7

The Gospel of Matthew 5:17 12f. 5–7 182 5:28 188f. 11:19 186f. The Gospel of Mark 2:7 159f. 10:26 105 The Gospel of Luke 5:21 159f. 6:45 145 7:34 186f. The Gospel of John 1:1-14 3:7 6:68 8:36

176 143 170 161f.

Acts 16:30 17:28

105f., 112 158

Romans 1 1:16 1:17 3:21–22

116, 154 186f. 14f. 181

3:26 4:5 5 5:10 6:23 7 7:4 7:7 7:12 7:14 7:24 7:24–25 8:2 8:5–7 8:24 10:4 10:17 11:32

159f. 91f. 187 182f. 156 24, 97–98, 110, 112–114, 159 184f. 17 193 114 178, 193 191f. 185f. 114 179 180 92f., 151 170

1 Corinthians 1:18 9:16 13:12 15:16–23 15:56

155 191f. 143 182 178–179

2 Corinthians 3:6 4:13 5:17–21

179 192 77, 155, 158

Galatians 2:19 2:20 2:21 3:10 3:19 3:13

154 180 149, 184f. 6 32f., 190 175

228

Index of Biblical References

3:22 3:23 4:4 5:14 5:17

52f., 187 52f., 170 37 129f. 114

Ephesians 2:8–9

139, 192

Philippians 2:8 3:7–9

182f. 113

Colossians 2:13 3:3 5:21

143 184f. 155

1st Timothy 1:15

17

2nd Timothy 2:15

52f.

Hebrews 1:3 11:1

139f. 143