The Real Task of Practical Theology

"Practical Theology" provides the theme for much of today's discussion about theological education. Experienced voices are calling for a more central role for the practical disciplines--preaching, counseling, education and the like--which are often relegated to the intellectual margins of the seminary. More important, this focus on practice leads to probing questions about the purposes of theological education and the connections between religious faith and social context.

These concerns have antecedents, of course. Already in the 19th century American seminary professors stressed the importance of contemporary scientific studies alongside the classical theological disciplines. The same intellectual currents that led some clergy to founding roles in the social sciences led others to insist that education in those sciences was the key to effective ministry in an urban, industrial society. When the young Reinhold Niebuhr challenged his denomination in 1921 with an article titled "Shall a Minister Have an Education?" the education he had in mind was this comprehensive understanding of the social setting. His concern was shared by many other progressive denominational leaders, who saw the usual education in confessional theology as too narrow for the demands of modern ministry.

But the development of Protestant theological education after World War II turned away from this early 20th century vision. Timeless affirmations of Barthian theology and transcendental questions of modern philosophy dominated theology and ethics, while pastoral studies fostered the professional competences of the counselor. Even courses on preaching and education tended to promote individual self-acceptance and happiness.

Catholic seminaries, for somewhat different reasons, developed a similar curricular schizophrenia. The social vision of John A. Ryan failed to penetrate the institutions of theological education, and the Protestant split between theology and "application" was mirrored in the cleavage between the Thomistic education mandated by Leo XIII and the televised pastoral assurances of Fulton J. Sheen.

The current interest in practical theology may be seen as a return to the earlier effort to develop a comprehensive, integrated understanding of the life of faith in contemporary society. Practical theology continues the emphasis on psychology that has characterized preparation for the ministry since the 1950s. Today, however, the individual aspects of this psychology are often coupled with interests in congregational assessment and education as well as in personal growth.

A more striking change is the significance that practical theology gives to the social context of theology. Practical theologians attend to the sociology of congregations and to the studies of the changing role of religious institutions in American public life. They also make extensive use of contemporary social theology, seeking to understand in the most general terms the ways that societies function, the ways in which ideas are communicated and the ways in which religious concepts can be plausible and authoritative in a modern, secular context. American philosophical pragmatism, French phenomenology and German critical theory all provide important idioms in which practical theologians have explained their own projects. The works of Don Browning, John Cobb or Lewis Mudge are a lively introduction to contemporary psychology, social thought and philosophy, as well as an argument for their own constructive theological positions.

Along with this effort to provide a broader social understanding of religious institutions and a more sophisticated framework in which to explain the dynamics of religious life, practical theologians raise specific questions about education for contemporary religious leaders. Edward Farley has introduced these questions most pointedly, tracing the shape of contemporary Protestant theological education to a pattern that originated in Europe early in the 19th century. The implications of his argument, however, also apply to Roman Catholic theological education.

Farley's point is that the shape of theological reflection has been distorted by the requirements of professional pastoral competence. The key to a more vital and credible theology, Farley argues, is to abandon the "clerical paradigm." What practical theology must provide is an understanding of how faith can guide action in contemporary circumstances. That important task is trivialized when practical theology is reduced to a set of useful skills for the working minister.

Contemporary practical theology is thus more than the "application" of theological concepts to one social situation or another. Theology is fundamentally transformed by the conditions under which the people of faith must live and by the choices through which they participate in shaping the future. We simply do not know what the doctrines of atonement, incarnation and redemption mean until we understand what they mean for persons shaped by this historical milieu. All theology must be practical theology.

While the practical theology movement has provided important new direction to debates about theological education, serious questions have been raised about its approach to theology and ministry. Foremost among these is the question whether the contemporary psychological and social theories that are supposed to provide guidance for interpreting religious traditions have in fact been transformed into standards of theological truth. Is it possible, the critics ask, that what makes the Christian theological task so difficult is just that the message of our dependence on God's grace is not credible to an age that believes in individual autonomy and the competence of human reason? If that is the problem, it will not be solved by a more precise understanding of the forms of reason and authority that have validity for the modern mind. If anything, attention to those standards may lead the theologian to limit the truth of the gospel to what already seems to be true to those who have not yet been grasped by it.

Every practical theologian would, of course, deny that this is what his or her investigation intends, but the critics cannot be easily dismissed. The questions that modern thought raises about theology are penetrating, but they also tend to be generic. They apply to every attempt to think about a framework of meaning that transcends human constructions and every claim to truth that cannot easily be tested in human experience. If practical theologians devote their energies to explaining how modern people can believe anything at all, they may lose sight of the specific claims about God and humanity that characterize Christian faith and distinguish one form of Christianity from another. Much of the meaning of Christianity lies in what it tells us about the details of our lives. To the extent that these details are lost in large-scale theoretical constructions, the relevance to the actual life of faith that practical theology seeks is diminished.

The principal critics of practical theology therefore advocate a radical rejection of modern questions about reason and practice in favor of a discussion in which the most important questions about the meaning and validity of the Christian message are assumed, precisely so that the details can be intelligently debated. Narrative theologians across a broad spectrum from George Lindbeck to Ronald Thiemann insist that genuinely "practical" theology begins by asking how choices and practices make sense within a community that is already committed to the gospel. Stanley Hauerwas has developed Christian approaches to personal and social ethics from this same starting point. Others, led by theologian Thomas Oden, call for a return to "classical" theology, the great systems in which the thinkers of the early church took all of reality, including their own salvation, into a comprehensive understanding of God's activity. Disputed questions about the nature of Christ's divinity or the details of human salvation are not ancient quarrels that modern Christians ought to forget. They are critical questions about our own existence that can hardly be asked, let alone answered, without knowing the theological context in which they first were formulated.

The arguments for and against practical theology raise

important issues for theological education. The rejection of the "clerical paradigm" in favor of a reflection on Christian practice broadly based in the whole Christian community requires a changed concept of pastoral leadership and a new pattern of preparation for it. While the practical theologians and their critics disagree over exactly how this practical thinking begins, both sides agree that theological education is not primarily a matter of mastering specific skills or acquiring specialized knowledge for which other Christians have no use.

The minister's education cannot consist simply of Bible knowledge, theological concepts and liturgical details that the laity are unlikely to know, although this apparently provides some clergy with a satisfying sense of academic respectability. Nor can ministry proceed only by analysis of underlying social processes--race, class and economic power--although this apparently provides some clergy with a satisfying sense of contemporary relevance. The real task is to figure out what is happening at the nexus between the order of meaning presupposed by Christian faith and the order of events predicted by modern social theory. That is in some sense where all Christians live all the time, trying both to "take no thought for tomorrow" and to figure out whether it will be their department that gets eliminated in the next corporate takeover. The pastor is not someone who has a different concern, but she can provide leadership only if she is able to think about these questions more comprehensively and speak about them more articulately than those other Christians whose practical theology remains more intensely personal.

Education for this kind of pastoral leadership--as our Protestant forebears in the early decades of this century understood so well--must connect individual faith and social context. While the curriculum of American seminaries may have been dominated by a "clerical paradigm," the real life of these institutions has shifted toward an ethos of self-discovery in which many students' are equally bored by theological subtlety and social complexity. The thought that the sparks might really begin to fly when those two apparently inert elements are struck against one another rarely enters their minds.

Meanwhile, congregations and denominational leaders increasingly understand a "practical" theology to be one that communicates the gospel in ways that build loyalty and commitment among a people whose attention is captured by the demands and attractions of a secular society. The urgent need for results in ministry is translated into a demand for result-oriented theological education, and church leaders who are most concerned about reaching the laity become unwitting proponents of the "clerical paradigm." The demand of seminaries today is for pastors with skills to do quite specific things: organize youth groups, start new congregations, attract young adults, and so on.

These objectives are often very important, but few who measure practical theology in terms of pastoral skills recognize how much knowledge is required to do any of these things in ways that will yield more than short-term success. The knowledge, moreover, must be of society as well as theology, for communicating the gospel is as much a matter of knowing how it will be understood (or how it is apt to be misunderstood) as of knowing what it says.

When the religious understanding of society is superficial, the results can be comic. Mystical union takes to the airwaves in lyrics of romantic ecstasy, and cable television presents discussions of sacramental piety in the format pioneered by the "Tonight" show. But superficial understanding can also be tragic, when pastors and people who do not understand the roots of social disorder respond to demagogic appeals to "decency" and "Christian values," or when a genuine religious longing for human community takes anti-Semitic and xenophobic forms that can destroy a pluralistic society.

The urgent task of practical theology, then, is to understand society well enough that the church can truly be the church. A community shaped by the biblical narrative and steeped in classical theology can easily become a gentle anachronism, rather like the clubs that get together to hold costumed jousting tournaments. Or it can become a haven for hatred and resistance to change. It is too simple to suppose that these errors would all disappear if the churches better understood the gospel. Often what churches need is not a better understanding of the faith, but a more adequate knowledge of the society in which they are trying to live it out.

Theological education must prepare persons for religious leadership in those circumstances. Creative, practical skills and theological understanding must be linked to a knowledge of social context. Biblical norms and historical models must be related to contemporary possibilities with an imaginative grasp of what this history is apt to imply for those who see it against the background of their own fears and choices. Practical theologians have no formula that will yield a prescription for each and every one of these situations, but they need more than a bag of tricks with which to capture the wandering attentions of the information age. Knowledge is required, and not all of the knowledge that is needed will be found within the classical theological disciplines.

Not everyone who becomes a practical theologian in this sense will be preparing for pastoral leadership. Indeed, in a complex society where no one can grasp more than a few of the details, some of the most important practical theology will have to be done by specialists in medicine, law or business, or by theologians and ethicists whose training equips them for specialized roles in those institutions. To that extent, practical theology's critique of the "clerical paradigm" is on target. Theological schools must be measured in part by their ability to support serious theological reflection by those who are neither pastors nor professional theologians.

The central task of those institutions, however, must be to sustain pastoral leadership that is truly practical and truly theological. A congregation that is able to live simply and faithfully out of the Christian story is a gift of grace, but that gift must be sustained by some remarkable social creativity. The recent interest in practical theology may help to spark that creativity in the seminaries, where the discussion has been centered, and in the churches, where the conversation needs to be continued.

 

 

 

 

Inescapable Frameworks of Meaning

BOOK REVIEW:

Sources of the Self: The Making of the Modern Identity, by Charles Taylor. Harvard University Press, 601 pp., $37.50.

Pastors and theologians are fond of insisting that everybody lives by some sort of faith. The point of this claim is to force people to think about the goods and goals in their lives and where they come from. Charles Taylor, professor of political science and philosophy at McGill University in Montreal, has written a book on this theme that should make preachers and theologians take notice. Those who tackle Sources of the Self: The Making of the Modern Identity (Harvard University Press, 601 pp., $37.50) will have heavy reading ahead of them, but they will understand themselves and their vocations better for the effort.

Sources of the Self expands the historical studies in philosophy for which Taylor is best known. Through his earlier books on Hegel, Taylor has introduced a generation of students to one of the most important modern thinkers. Sources of the Self takes a broader view of Western philosophy, beginning with Plato and proceeding in detail through the works of Descartes, Locke, Kant, Schiller, Kierkegaard and others who have shaped our understanding of ourselves.

Sources of the Self is also a penetrating criticism of the history it reviews. In his first hundred pages Taylor argues that the modern effort to formulate objective truths about human identity has led philosophers to ignore the frameworks of lived experience in which facts become meaningful to persons. They have concentrated on the minimal agreements necessary for human cooperation and overlooked the intricate web of beliefs by which individuals shape their lives and understand themselves. Philosophers, in short, have studied a narrowly defined morality at the expense of human spirituality. As a result, we have become speechless about the ways in which we identify the important goods and goals in our lives. We continue to have them, of course, but we are unable to talk about them. Taylor's broadest aim is to articulate these fundamental affirmations.

Taylor's first contribution to theology is this philosophical account of why the frameworks of meaning by which we attempt to order life as whole are important and worthy of study. Before we can explain why persons might be persuaded by Christian theism rather than, say, Romantic harmony with nature or Nietzsche's defiant assertion of the self's powers, we have to understand how any of those systems could articulate ways that persons actually live. We also must be capable of separating the key elements of our faith from the host of other attractive ideas that we would also like to affirm. Taylor's explication of the "inescapable frameworks" of our moral and spiritual lives clarifies what the intellectual task of contemporary theology is, even before he provides any specific help in the understanding of Christian theism.

The central portion of Sources of the Self traces in detail the emergence and development of some of these frameworks in European thought. Taylor begins with the "affirmation of ordinary life" that marks the modern focus on the individual and displaces the ancient emphasis on heroic public actions. He then traces how this inwardness developed through Christian, Deist and Enlighten-ment forms, until the Romantic movement tried to reconnect individual consciousness with the world of nature.

Taylor acknowledges that it becomes more difficult to follow such large-scale movements as we approach our own time, but chapters 22-24 provide an illuminating study of recent literature and philosophy that is in itself a rich resource. This summary can hardly convey the detail or the depth of Taylor's learning. On the parts of this history I already knew well, I was impressed by Taylor's concise, accurate summaries and illuminating new perspective. I am awestruck by how much more he covers, apparently with the same erudition.

To be sure, Sources of the Self is an intellectual history. It is a record primarily of what went on in the minds of European men who wrote books and in the minds of other men who read them. In Taylor’s hands, however, these ideas are not simply old systems of philosophy. He shows us how they have become part of our own consciousness. He does not show us exactly how they got there. That would take a study of cultural history that traces philosophical ideas into popular movements. But Taylor does enable us to recognize in the works of these philosophers clearer statements of our own identity and aspirations. We share the Reformation’s affirmation of ordinary life and the rationalists’ confidence that God’s world is both orderly and understandable; and though it does ot preach as well, we also share the Romantic conviction that nature’s colors and changes express the realities of our own feelings and the Nietzschean defiance that refuses to settle for the little lives and daily duties to which our churches, families, and colleagues have assigned us.

That’s the problem, of course. The identities we have inherited are not consistent with one another, and it is difficult to have them all at once. That is what Taylor finally wants us to understand as we work our way through his masterful survey of modern thought. The development of the modern identity is lot a straight-line, cumulative process that leads from a fairly simple, premodern self to the complexity of today's personality. The process is more one of fragmentation and division. Answers to questions about our relationships to the world, to the good and to one other develop in ways that exclude other answers, yet each of the frameworks we accept appears on close inspection to be only part of the answer we want. We are not sure that we are able to believe the things that would answer our questions, and we are not sure that the things we do believe are able to answer them. "The nagging. question for modern theism is simply: Is there really a God? The threat at the margin of modern nontheistic humanism is: So what?"

Taylor, in the end, makes a case for "Judaeo-Christian theism," and for "its central promise of a divine affirmation of the human, more total than humans can ever attain unaided." He does this with unusual sensitivity to the arguments for the other side, and with an acute awareness that his own case can never achieve the status of an irrefutable demonstration. "The belief in God . . . offers a reason not in this sense but as an articulation of what is crucial to the shape of the moral world in one's best account. It offers a reason rather as I do when I lay out my most basic concerns. In order to make sense of my life to you." Such an account, Taylor suggests, offers a kind of reason for belief to others, but it helps at the same time to define one's own identity.

Taylor's attention to the "inescapable frameworks" that define our identity will remind many readers of Alasdair MacIntyre's emphasis on the role of traditions in the moral life in After Virtue (1981) and, recently, in Whose Justice? Which Rationality? (1988). For Taylor as for MacIntyre, our traditions are not so much a system of beliefs for which we can make an argument as the language in which we must frame questions and answers for ourselves. We do not so much assert them as we are shaped by them.

Taylor, however, is far more positive than Maclntyre about the achievements of modern traditions of tolerance and political freedom. More important, Taylor understands that the competition between traditions goes on within each of us. We are often powerfully drawn to more than one way of understanding the world. This is the result of that fragmentation and division in the modern frameworks which we have already noted. All modern frameworks,, including modern theism, have become partial answers. When we formulate them into explicit systems of philosophy or theology, they tell us less than we want to know. We find ourselves able to say less than we had expected about who we are, and why the world makes sense to us as it does.

As a result, those who still seek their answers in great historical tradition have a double burden. They must not only deal with the failures of those traditions and the horrors they have perpetrated in the past - like the pogroms, inquisitions and oppressions that make some ask whether it would not be better for humanity if Christianity were forgotten. They also have to deal with the limited and incomplete grasp of human goods that is apparent in every modern version of the tradition. It is easy to caricature rival understandings: liberationists insist that realists are all closet neoconservatives, and traditionalists proclaim that feminists have all started down the slippery slope that leads to goddess worship. It is even easy, given a modicum of self-critical awareness, to see the painful truth in others’ caricatures of one's own stance. What is supremely difficult is to articulate a version of Christian theism that provides a full account of the moral life, informed by the tradition as a whole and at the same time responsive to the full range of human goods that we have learned to experience in modern life.

Taylor is confident that theism is equal to this challenge. "Theism is, of course, contested as to its truth. Opponents may judge it harshly and think that it would be degrading and unfortunate for humans if it were true. But no one doubts that those who embrace it will find a fully adequate moral source in it"

Nontheistic reviewers are alternately perplexed and infuriated by this claim. Nothing about the moral adequacy of theism seems as obvious to them as Taylor's bold statement makes it' and they are sufficiently mindful of the atrocities committed in the name of God to suggest that whatever moral hope there is for the human enterprise. must be grounded elsewhere.

Most readers of the CHRISTIAN CENTURY will be more sympathetic to Taylor's claim. If it is not obvious that theism is "a fully adequate moral source," pastors will at least share Taylor’s intuition that it is true. For them, the more important question is how that case can be made. That takes us back to the task of articulation with which Taylor begins the book. The case that can be made is not a deductive proof, but a bringing to awareness and formulating in speech the connections between morality and spirituality that have been suppressed in modern thought.

Contrary to some more sectarian versions of Christian theology that are currently popular, this is not a matter of drawing everything out of the Christian tradition. Articulation is different from the interpretation of a distinctive Christian narrative. It involves building connections between the traditions of Christian faith and the aspirations and values that emerge as many traditions and philosophies test the limits of humanity and community in contemporary experience. But articulation involves more than arriving at consensus on a set of values that we just happen to have. Taylor's fundamental point is that we cannot expect those shared values to change our lives or make real claims on our neighbors unless we can connect them to an ultimate good-Taylor calls it a "hypergood" - that orders and judges these proximate claims and may

Taylor acknowledges, with a rueful nod to his secular critics, that this articulation is a dangerous undertaking. It can impel a self-sacrificial dedication to justice, but it may also ignite a crusading zeal against those who do not see things our way. An objective observer sometimes finds it difficult to decide, in any given case, which orientation prevails.

The theologian comes to the end of Sources of the Self with a more complex uneasiness: not just that the task is morally dangerous, but that it is theologically difficult. During the 20th century, Christian theology has emphasized God's transcendence of any human good. The theologian's task has been to maintain that transcendence against all ideological pretensions and political expedients. God's judgment falls equally on every party platform. The theologian's primary public word must be this message of unrelenting judgment.

As a result, contemporary theology -- especially contemporary Protestant theology -- is often as devoid of judgments about the human good as the liberalism it professes to despise. Where concrete, practical guidance is required, this theology provides "middle axioms" that set out a broad program of action, or even "biblical principles" that help Christians choose which policies they should support, without explaining why. Pastors and church leaders informed by this theology are often very good at working forward from these touchstones to specific courses of action. They are not so adept at working back from the middle axioms and the biblical principles to the human good of a life lived before God.

 

Grounding Theology in Practice

Book Review: A Fundamental Practical Theology.

By Don S. Browning. Fortress, 324 pp., $ 29.95.

Don Browning’s provocative study A Fundamental Practical Theology offers the most concerted account yet of how the churches’ practice might organize theological inquiry as a whole. Browning does not attempt to work through many of the systemic and conceptual problems generated by his project, and in this respect his book is more exploratory than definitive. His explorations are rendered somewhat diffuse, moreover, by his penchant for position-taking on a wide range of philosophical, theological and ethical controversies. Despite these caveats, he has opened up important lines of inquiry which merit further investigation.

Browning’s central purpose is to show that all authentic Christian theology is governed by practical interests. Theology begins and ends in the collective practice of living communities of faith—communities which seek clarity about their mission in the context of the contemporary world. A critical grasp of theology requires us to pay systematic attention to the way practical concerns initially give rise to urgent theological questions, and then press us toward proposals that foster more faithful and effective Christian living.

To establish his claim, Browning reconceives the whole of theology as "fundamental practical theology." The term "fundamental" underscores the point that every facet of theology, however specialized or esoteric it may appear to be, is finally practical in its import. Browning divides fundamental practical theology into four submovements: descriptive theology, historical theology, systematic theology and "strategic practical theology." Although not without precedent, the most novel feature of Browning’s proposal is his isolation of an initial phase of inquiry called "descriptive theology." Descriptive theology proves to be primary and pervasive in Browning’s program. It portrays the "contemporary theory-laden practices that give rise to the practical, questions that generate all theological reflection." Browning believes that description has always informed, at least tacitly, all branches of theology. His intent is to insist that it become fully self-conscious and critical.

The emphasis on description prevents practical theology from being reduced merely to an exercise of application—application to practice of the results of historical and systematic theology. In Browning’s terms, it displaces the habit of "theory-to-practice" thinking. By speaking of "theory-laden" practices, Browning also calls attention to value orientations and beliefs about the nature of things that already reside in practice. Just as there is no such thing as theory that is not about something practical, so there is no such thing as practice devoid of all theory whatsoever. Describing practice includes tracing and recounting the beliefs it presumes, whether they be naïve, illusory or critically informed.

Descriptive theology sketches out the hermeneutical context that governs historical and systematic theology. Since contemporary practices profoundly shape both historical retrievals and systematic articulations of Christian faith, studies in these branches of theology properly proceed by way of a prior movement of description. The task of these other branches is to present, at a high level of generality, the basic themes that belong to a Christian understanding of reality. In Browning’s account, historical theology includes biblical theology, and systematic theology includes theological ethics, philosophical theology and the philosophy of religion.

The general work of description leads finally to strategic practical theology. This theological submovement is governed by problems that occupy the churches in their search for clarity about their mission. It too begins with description, but of a more concrete sort—"thick description," Browning calls it. Such description brings into focus the collective practices of congregations in their social, cultural and natural settings. It critically examines those practices in light of themes that have been elaborated in historical and systematic theology. The goal of strategic practical theology is to devise, and then to defend and communicate, specific recommendations for congregational ministries.

Browning demonstrates his idea of strategic practical theology through analyses of three congregational studies. The first two studies—one of a suburban United Methodist church, and the other of an established Presbyterian congregation that became a sanctuary church—were conducted by interdisciplinary teams that included Browning. The third, the study of an urban, African-American Pentecostal church with strong family ministries, was conducted by Browning and his assistants. A third of the book is devoted to these studies.

Browning conveys the impression that his fourfold scheme has a logical and temporal order: first descriptive theology, then historical theology, next systematic theology, and finally, strategic practical theology. In suggesting such an orderly procedure, however, he may pass too lightly over the complications and difficulties we face when we seek to discern what is going on in contemporary situations especially those in which we ourselves are involved. Indeed, our comprehension of the present has more the character of an imaginative construction than of straightforward description. We devise ways of representing to ourselves the contours of our own reality so that we might better cope with its challenges. Our formative traditions play no small role in such representations.

As Browning makes clear, however, none of the submovements of theology can be completed without the other three. He intends to challenge all branches of theology to pay heed to the social and cultural locus of their inquiries. At no point does he argue for a new group of specialists called "descriptive theologians." What matters is a lively dialogue among the branches of theology, with full appreciation for the practical interest that governs them all.

Browning’s second purpose is to advocate a particular way of doing theology, one positioned between historicist and foundationalist approaches (what George Lindbeck terms, respectively, "cultural-linguistic" and "apologetic" perspectives in his book The Nature of Christian Doctrine). Historicist approaches interpret discrete streams of normative tradition, while foundationalist approaches strive to ground theological claims in tradition-transcendent appeals to reason and experience. Citing David Tracy’s Blessed Rage for Order, Browning characterizes the middle way as a "critical correlational approach" to theology. While the central aim of this approach is to mediate critically the churches’ normative traditions in the present context, it involves as well "a mutually critical dialogue between interpretations of the Christian message and interpretations of contemporary cultural experiences and practices." Such a dialogue requires Christian theologians to advance an apologetic which will argue for the truth and goodness of their traditions in language that is intelligible within a broader culture.

Browning does not attempt to construct such a critical correlational theology. Rather, he suggests features of such a theology by playing off of the strengths and weaknesses of his polar extremes. Hans-Georg Gadamer, Richard Rorty, Alasdair Maclntyre, George Lindbeck, Johannes Baptist Metz and Stanley Hauerwas, among others, represent the historicist or cultural-linguistic stream; Jürgen Habermas, Alan Donagan, Alan Gewirth, Ronald Green and perhaps Gene Outka are some of those who represent the foundationalist or "apologetic" stream. Browning would have a little bit of each: more appreciation for the formative power of tradition than the foundationalists display; more insistence on the authority of reason and experience than the historicists allow. His stress on the latter reflects his sense that appeals to reason and experience are more at risk. Though a middle way has intuitive appeal, Browning’s own thought remains eclectic, more a set of assertions about what he likes and does not like than the formulation of a cogent position.

Browning’s most important task in A Fundamental Practical Theology is to elaborate the inquiries that compose his fourth submovement, strategic practical theology. In doing so he makes five highly plausible claims.

First, we do not have to invent strategic practical theology. It is already a feature of congregational practice. The challenge is to do it better, and to incorporate it with greater rigor into theological education and scholarship.

Second, strategic practical theology does not merely apply historical and systematic theology to practice. It is an original inquiry with its own form and substance. Though it draws upon the other theological subspecialties, it makes essential contributions of its own. Indeed, it uncovers the decisive locus of authentic theological inquiry.

Third, strategic practical theology begins with "thick description" of theory-laden congregational practices. Description includes theological and ethical convictions, since they are embedded in congregational practices. These convictions guide, authorize and rationalize practice. Though these convictions may conceal what is going on in a situation, they also furnish resources for critically assessing concrete practice.

Fourth, the human sciences have a crucial role to play in "thick description." They alert us to constraints upon congregational practices, and they help us identify certain nonmoral goods relevant to theological and ethical reflection.

Fifth, the human sciences can serve strategic practical theology only when they are reconceived as hermeneutical inquiries. Scientists as individuals and developed patterns of scientific thinking both have specific value orientations and cultural biases. To assess scientific research, we must show how these biases and values shape its methods and qualify its results. We must subject the sciences themselves to the dialogue that takes place within critical correlational theology.

In regard to all of these matters, Browning is on solid ground. Conceptual weaknesses begin to appear, however, in his exposition of the inquiries that make up strategic practical theology. Browning is aware of his limitations. He is attracted to Jürgen Habermas’s model of "reconstructive science," in which one derives certain "validity claims" from communicative action itself—claims that must be "redeemed" in a public discourse. By "validity claims," Habermas has in view presumptions that already reside in any communicative act whatever and that we must be prepared to defend under questioning by others. To "redeem validity claims" is to furnish arguments in support of these presumptions. Similarly, Browning would like to derive from the collective practices of congregations "validity claims" that must be "redeemed" in strategic practical theology. Yet Browning sees no way to proceed in this task with the necessary rigor, so he resorts to an autobiographical account of how various inquiries gained importance for him in the course of his intellectual pilgrimage. He invites the reader to "try out" his proposed categories, emphasizing their "open-ended and modest" character.

The reader is invited, then, to consider five "dimensions" or "levels" of inquiry pertinent to strategic practical theology: vision, obligation, tendency/need, environmental/social and rule/role. The first two refer to theological and ethical ideas. Browning suggests their relation with a mixed image: theology is the "outer envelope" and ethics the "inner core" of strategic practical theology. The latter three are illumined by the human sciences, though they play a role in ethical reflection as well. Thus, tendency/need is the province of psychology; environmental/social, of environmental sciences and sociology, respectively; and rule/role, of sociology. Cultural anthropology sheds light on the functional significance of vision and obligation. Browning makes little or no substantive use of the "rule/role" dimension. His detailed studies revolve, then, around the other four dimensions.

Browning’s aim is not systematic completeness. He seeks instead to consider how inquiries appropriate to strategic practical theology may be related to one another. He offers a selection of representative investigations, all of which are open to modification and enlargement.

At one point, Browning notes the usefulness of Talcott Parsons’s theory of action for organizing the human sciences. Parsons does strive for systematic completeness; he outlines distinctions and interconnections among four subsystems: the organic, the personal, the social and the cultural. He then relates these subsystems to the natural environment on the one hand and to the ultimately real on the other hand. The former furnishes action its elemental preconditions; the latter, its overarching framework.

Parsons’s theory suggests six lines of inquiry. We examine congregational practices in terms of organic, personal, social and cultural dynamics, attending to important distinctions and interrelationships. We then examine these same dynamics in relation both to environmental processes and to normative articulations of the ultimately real. The latter introduce theological and ethical views, mediated perhaps through metaphysical or cosmological speculations.

The basic subsystems are each open to elaboration. Parsons focuses on the social system and its differentiation into economic, political, social and cultural subsystems. The economic subsystem orders the production, distribution and consumption of goods and services necessary to sustenance. The political subsystem allocates authority, legitimacy and power in their bearing on collective decision-making and public order. The social subsystem provides for socialization and for the maintenance of social bonds, and it furnishes procedures for resolving societal conflicts. The cultural subsystem preserves, enriches and transmits social values and understandings.

According to Parsons, these processes are fully operative only in a total society, yet they appear in qualified ways in smaller social units. Though dependent on the wider society, congregations themselves display economic, political, social and cultural dynamics that merit study in strategic practical theology.

My intent is not to canonize Parsons’s theory, but to note that he undertakes the systems-thinking that Browning’s view of strategic practical theology may require. Browning would have done well to follow his lead. Parsons disposes us to question Browning’s special association of the environmental with the social. This association apparently arises from the fact that Browning’s interest in social dynamics primarily concerns not processes internal to congregational life, but rather the operations of the larger society within which congregations are located. Parsons also stimulates us to elaborate psychic, social and cultural processes in the collective practices of human beings in ways that surpass Browning’s own accomplishments.

For Browning, strategic practical theology is at its core an exercise in theological ethics. The emphasis on ethics reflects his judgment that contemporary churches are disposed to avoid the ethical import of the Christian message, retreating from the public arena to a safer private sector, and there offering care without accountability ("cheap grace"). As a corrective, he explicates his five dimensions in terms of theological ethics. There is, of course, a more general form of theological ethics that appears within historical theology and systematic theology. Browning’s purpose is to show how these general understanding might figure in strategic practical theology as well. In his case studies, he

likewise features ethical issues.

Browning lifts up Reinhold Niebuhr’s Nature and Destiny of Man as

a successful integration of vision and obligation in theological ethics. Niebuhr shows how substantive Christian understandings ("vision") qualify ethical interests, while also dramatizing the ethical thrust of the Christian message ("obligation"). Browning rightly objects to Niebuhr’s identification of "agape" with sacrificial love. Following Gene Outka, he interprets agape as "mutual regard," adding that mutual regard cannot be sustained without sacrifice. Mutual regard emerges as the paramount Christian moral principle.

Because Browning closely identifies mutual regard with principles of justice widely discussed in contemporary philosophy, he believes that its normative standing can be sustained in a mutually critical discourse. Thus, he puts forward a foundational principle of obligation deeply rooted in Christian tradition that can be "redeemed" by appeals to reason and experience. The Christian "vision" that frames this principle disposes practical thinkers to adopt a "realist" stance in public life, resisting both naïve illusions about the possibilities for human goodness and cynical dismissals of moral accountability.

Mutual regard is a "thin" principle, highly abstract in form. It becomes more concrete by way of the remaining three dimensions. Psychological treatments of human tendencies and needs alert us to important nonmoral goods that fill in the content of mutual regard. They lead us to resist any reduction of moral action to volition guided by practical reason alone, for the same tendencies and needs also enter into the motivation of action. Similarly, the environmental/social dimension discloses external constraints on practice, pressing us to be realistic about the impact of mutual regard on social existence. Finally, the rule/role dimension delineates moral rules suited to the enactment of mutual regard in concrete social reality.

Even in concrete settings, Browning argues, the principle of mutual regard continues to preside over all Christian moral judgment. It determines the moral status of nonmoral goods and it furnishes the ultimate basis for the assessment of practice. By insisting on this point, I would contend, Browning’s thinking tends to revert to the "theory-to-practice" model that he otherwise rejects. If a more complex, multidimensional pattern of moral reasoning is to be enacted, that pattern must also be reflected in the general account of ethics to which it is related. Otherwise, the dense interconnections of the branches of fundamental practical theology will be lost.

Here too Browning is better at identifying elements that belong to a theological ethic than at working through the problems a coherent theory must solve. Instead of Reinhold Niebuhr’s Nature and Destiny of Man , the better model for an ethic pertinent to strategic practical theology might be H. Richard Niebuhr’s The Responsible Self. The latter Niebuhr takes account of theories of obligations and theories of value, yet he connects both to historically formed social situations. The result is an ethic of responsiveness that begins with "thick" description and ends in concrete patterns of practice. The general norm is a "fitting response" to "what is going on."

Browning’s book bristles with interesting questions. My wish is that he had maintained more disciplined focus on his central project, the explication of fundamental practical theology, and that he had attended more patiently to the systematic and conceptual problems residing in that proposal. His case for a critical correlational theology would have been the stronger had he limited himself to its connections with strategic practical theology. Likewise, the ethical dimensions of practical theology would have been more persuasively developed had their integral relation with the communal life of congregations first been fully established.

Finally, without wanting to diminish the importance of congregations, I think it would be most unfortunate if strategic practical theology left out of consideration other organizational aspects of church life, such as denominations, ecumenical associations and church-related institutions. Notwithstanding these limits, Browning’s book remains a highly valuable study. He uncovers crucial issues that cry out for attention.

 

 

Dialogue as a Model for Communication in the Church

I. Dialogue as the Key to the Ecclesiology of Communion

The theological understanding of the Church allows for a wide range of emphases. This is shown in the history of the Church and in ecclesiology. History reveals a direct connection between the image of the Church that may be predominant at any given time and the forms of communication which the Church favors during that same time. As Klaus Kienzler noted in his chapter, Vatican II continued the tradition of the early Church. It defined the Church as the People of God and as the communio fidelium (the communion of believers). This vision of the Church as a community of brothers and sisters included dialogue, which became the guiding principle and the basic model for communication in the Church. The Council affirmed:

The Church stands forth as a sign of that brotherliness which allows dialogue and invigorates it. Such a mission requires in the first place that we foster within the Church herself mutual esteem, reverence, and harmony, through the full recognition of lawful diversity. Thus all those who compose the one People of God, both pastors and the general faithful, can engage in dialogue with ever-abounding fruitfulness. For the bonds which unite the faithful are mightier than anything that divides them. Hence, let there be unity in what is necessary, freedom in what is doubtful, and charity in everything (Gaudium et spes 92).

The word "dialogue" as a description of communication within the Church is new. It is not found in preconciliar ecclesiology whose key words were "jurisdiction" and "obedience." The following priorities characterized preconciliar ecclesiology.

- the priority of the universal Church over the local Church (universalist ecclesiology)

- the priority of the ordained office holder over the congregation and the charisms (clericalism)

- the priority of the monarchical over the collegial structure of office (centralism)

- the priority of unity over plurality (uniformity) One-way communication "from above to below" corresponds to the hierarchical system of strict superiority and subordination.

The ecclesiology of communion reveals a different picture. The communio fidelium (the communion of believers) is structured as the communio ecclesiarum (the communion of churches). The following characteristics distinguish it from preconciliar ecclesiology.

- an organic connection between the universal Church and the local churches

- the cooperation between ordained office holders and lay people

- the theological necessity of both primacy and collegiality

- unity within plurality

The above qualities are necessary for that communication which is characterized as dialogue. Paul A. Soukup rightfully noted: "Those who choose this model of dialogue as defining the communication process usually choose a model of the Church or local community that is small enough to facilitate the face-to-face communication they seek."' Dialogue means mutual communication in which the partners-their experience and their judgment-are taken seriously. This does not exclude the official authority of the pastors and the obedience due to them, but it requires the pastors to exercise their authority in dialogic fashion." 2

II. The Danger of Reverting to One-Way Communication

The transition from a style of authority that was part patriarchal and part authoritarian to a style of authority that is exercised in the form of dialogue creates difficulties for the Church. The new awareness that 'we are all the Church' creates fear in some people. This is one of the reasons for the tendency to return to one-way communication. One indication of this is the emphasis in recent Church documents on obedience to the hierarchical teaching authority and on the relationship between hierarchical superiority and subordination.

This development can be briefly outlined as follows. Dei Filius of Vatican I (Denzinger-Schonmetzer 3008) and Dei Verbum 5 of Vatican II demanded full submission of "intellect and will" as the "obedience of faith" which we owe to God who reveals himself Lumen gentium 25, however, demanded "religious obedience of the will and the intellect" to the teaching of the bishops and the Pope. Although the use of the expression '.of the will and intellect" to designate obedience toward the hierarchical teaching authority creates problems, its exclusive application in Lumen gentium 25 to non-infallible teaching authority is still not clear. Canons 752 and 753 of the 1983 Code of Canon Law use the expression "religious obedience of the intellect and will," which has become the specific way of describing adherence to non-infallible statements of the hierarchical teaching authority. This creates the unfortunate impression that when the teaching authority of the Church cannot or does not wish to make a definitive statement and in principle leaves open the process of searching for the truth, this process is at once terminated by the demand for obedience.

This same line of thought is continued in the new version of the Professio fidei and the Oath of Fidelity of 1989.3 Although Canon Law had already required it, "religious obedience" must also be promised and sworn to by all theologians and office holders. The "Instruction on the Ecclesial Vocation of the Theologian" issued by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith in 1990, stated that no public discussion of non-infallible doctrinal statements is permitted within the Church. Although Pius XII had

already said as much in 1950, Vatican II did not adopt that declaration. 4 According to Canon 1371.1 of the Code of Canon Law, any "pertinacious rejection" of non-infallible doctrines is punishable, even if the rejection is based on justifiable doubt. 5

This development concerns many Catholics. It makes dialogue in the Church more difficult, and it can hardly be reconciled with the following recommendation of Vatican II: "Let there be unity in what is necessary, freedom in what is doubtful, and charity in everything" (Gaudium et spes 92). Nor does it correspond to the actual position of the majority of the faithful today. Their fidelity to the faith and their acceptance of the truths of the faith are based less on obedience to their pastors than on understanding and conviction. Such an approach also corresponds to what Vatican 11 called the "dignity of human person and their social nature." Even in the area of religion, men and women attain to the truth through "right and true judgments of conscience" which are formed as a result of "free inquiry, carried on with the aid of teaching or instruction, communication, and dialogue" (Dignitatis humanae 3).

III. Reception within the Process of Dialogic Communication

In order to prevent Church communication based on dialogue from becoming becoming abstract or merely turning into a moral appeal, it will be worth our while to take a close look at a specific aspect of the process of communication-reception-in the early Church. Structurally, the early Church was a communion of local churches (communio ecclesiarum). Each individual local Church considered itself to be a communion of believers (communio fidelium). Even though the Church of Rome acquired particular respect because of its association with the apostles Peter and Paul and eventually became the point of reference for the whole Church, the relationship among the local churches and with Rome was not understood in the sense of jurisdictional superiority or subordination. Communication among the churches was achieved by mutual exchange of information concerning their respective traditions of faith and ecclesial customs and by mutual reception. In this way-whether through normal communal relations or at synods and councils-a consensus developed. It took place first among local churches and ultimately within the entire Church.

We must pay particular attention to the process of reception in the early Church. There are good reasons why the concepts of reception and dialogue have not played a role in modem ecclesiology prior to Vatican II. In fact, within a system of jurisdictional superiority and subordination, reception has no separate or legally relevant significance. In such a system, it is presumed that official decisions will be received without hesitation and out of a spirit of obedience. This differs from the practice within a Church that perceives itself as being a communion of sister churches. The manner of reception in the early Church was part of a process of communication based on dialogue.

As a result of his investigations, Yves Congar defines reception in the early Church as follows: "By 'reception,' I mean the process by means of which a Church body truly takes over as its own a resolution that it did not originate in regard to itself, and acknowledges the measure it promulgates as a rule applicable to its own life." 6. This definition is purposely couched in general terms in order to cover the many processes of reception. What is received is not only doctrinal truths but also disciplinary matters, ecclesiastical laws and customs, as well as persons. The recipients may include not only local churches but also institutions of the universal Church or synods of the local Church. The processes of reception can go from the level of the universal Church to that of the local churches or vice versa.

Yves Congar characterized the special character of reception at the time of the early Church as follows:

Reception includes something more than what the Scholastics called '.obedience." For the Scholastics it is the act by which a subordinate submits his will and conduct to the legitimate precepts of a superior, out of respect for the latter's authority. Reception is not a mere realization of the relation "secundum sub et supra": it includes a degree of consent, and possibly of judgment in which the life of a body is expressed which brings into play its own, original spiritual resources. 7

According to Congar, 8 the method of reception practiced by the early Church was "dangerous" to preconciliar ecclesiology, since in the early Church the adoption of papal and conciliar decisions by the local churches or individual believers was not simply the fruit of obedience but rather that of the recipient's own judgment regarding the truth or expediency of such decisions. This does not exclude due consideration being given in this judgment to the authority of a pope or a council. However, it is important that the ratification of a decision through ecclesial consensus gives it considerable weight. According to current terminology, reception by consensus does not per se validate a decision. Rather it confirms the decision and its intrinsic authority and thus contributes to its respect. Moreover, this makes it easier for any additional reception to take place. Indeed, the consensus of the universal Church regarding doctrinal decisions was, from the outset, the most important criterion in determining whether a doctrinal statement was to belong to the Church's binding tradition of faith. This is linked to the idea that the Church is a community in which all the members have joint responsibility. This is why canon law adopted the secular Roman legal maxim: "Quod omnes tangit ab omnibus tractari et approbari debet" ("What concerns all must be discussed and approved by all").9 This idea is also the basic premise of communication that is based on dialogue.

Vatican II emphasized the active and creative role played by the faithful during the process of tradition and reception. "There is a growth in the understanding of the realities and the words which have been handed down. This happens through the contemplation and study made by believers, who treasure these things in their hearts" and also through the "intimate understanding of spiritual things they experience" (Dei Verbum 8). At the same time, the People of God are guided by their sense of the faith. Their faith "penetrates" the Word of God "more deeply by accurate insights and applies it more thoroughly to life" (Lumen gentium 12).

IV. The Exercise of Ecclesial Authority in Dialogue

The above discussion leads us to posit three demands for the exercise of authority in dialogue. First, bishops should consider to whom their decisions are addressed as serious conversation partners and take their insights and judgments into account. This is best accomplished by prior consultation. Second, the manner in which bishops seek the truth and arrive at decisions should lend credibility to their decisions; their decisions should have a convincing ring to them and thus make reception easier. Third, the new experiences acquired in the process of reception by the faithful should be taken into consideration and, if necessary, lead to the improvement or correction of the decisions.

The United States Bishops' Conference in its pastoral letters on peace (1983) and the economy (1986) are good examples of the exercise of authority in dialogue. In both instances, the bishops first released a draft of the pastoral and invited members of the faithful to comment on it. The bishops carefully screened the responses, and, if they were useful, they took them into account as they prepared the next draft. That draft was in turn also submitted for discussion. Finally, relying on their authority, the bishops ratified the final version of the text. As a result, those pastoral letters received great attention, in contrast to many other Church documents. In 1990, the Austrian Bishops' Conference followed the same procedure in preparing its pastoral letter on social matters.

What is remarkable in this process is the linking of consultation and creative reception which leads to consensus. This was done without questioning the higher responsibility of the bishops. During the reception of the various drafts, the faithful were invited to reflect on the issues under discussion and to form their own opinions. By asking the faithful to share the results of their deliberations, the bishops consulted the faithful with a view to the subsequent draft of the document and, ultimately, the final version. We should add that at issue were matters which many members of the faithful had already reached a reasoned judgment on the basis of their own experience and insights. Obviously, modem communications media are extremely important in this kind of consultative process.

An objection has been raised concerning the process used by the American bishops' conference. Some say that it distorted the divinely founded distinction between the teaching Church and the listening Church. Behind this accusation stands a preconciliar ecclesiology, although one must acknowledge that the distinction does have some positive value. It means that not everyone in the Church has the right to speak for the Church and to claim that such teaching is binding. However, in the search for truth, the distinction between the teaching Church and the listening Church does not apply. The bishops must also be listeners and, like all the members of the faithful, must seek guidance in Holy Scripture and in the tradition of the faith of the People of God.

The pastoral letters we have mentioned dealt with contemporary social questions. They showed, however, that the transmission of the faith involves not only the imparting of dogmatic truths but also the living witness of the Gospel in the modem world. Responding to the challenge of "the signs of the times" (Gau&um et spes 4), the Gospel must be continually reinterpreted and witness must be given to its healing and liberating power in life. The contribution made by the faithful is indispensable if "the signs of the times" are to be recognized and a living witness is to be given to the Gospel in the Church and in the world. Bishops, therefore, must take into account the judgment of the faithful. All we have said adds greater weight to the necessity of exercising authority in dialogue.

Although we have limited ourselves in this chapter to the discussion of dialogue within the Church, we must not forget that Vatican II also used the term "dialogue" to refer to communication with separated Christians,10 with non-Christians and atheists,11 with the entire human family, and with the world.12 This aspect deserves our attention even more than the use of the dialogue model for exchanges within the Church.

Of course, dialogue may have its own special conditions according to the various partners involved. Yet the latter should be recognized as such and be taken seriously. The ghetto mentality of preconciliar ecclesiology is thereby abandoned. However, in order for the Church to show itself "the sign of that brotherliness which allows honest dialogue" among all human beings, it will be necessary "to foster within the Church itself . . . dialogue with ever abounding fruitfulness" (Gaudium et spes 92). The important goal of global dialogue on which the future of humanity depends will not be served by a relapse into preconciliar one-way communication.

 

REFERENCES

 

l. Paul A. Soukup, Communication and Theology: Introduction and Review of the Literature (London. 1983), P. 50.

2. See Lumen gentium 37.

3. See Catholic Theological Society of America, Report from the Committee on the Profession of Faith and the Oath of Fidelity (Washington, 1990), and Gustave Thils and Th. Scimcider, Glaubensbekenntnis und Treueid (Mainz, 1990).

4. See Giuseppe Alberigo and FTanca Magistretti, eds., Constitutionis dogmaticae Lumen gentium synopsis historica (Bologna, 1975), pp. 296 ff.

5. See Bernard Hiring, "Erzwingung von Verstandesgehorsam gegentiber nicht-unfehlbaren Lehren?," Theologie der Gegenwart 22 (1986): 213-19.

6. Yves Congar, "Reception as an Erclesiological Reality," in Concilium (English edition), no. 77 (New York: Herder and Herder, 1972), p. 45.

6. Yves Congar, "Reception as an Erclesiological Reality," in Concilium (English edition), no. 77 (New York: Herder and Herder, 1972), p. 45.

7. Ibid.

8. Ibid., p. 43.

9. See Gaines Post, "A Romano-Canonical Maxim 'Quod omnes tangit,' in Bracton," Traditio 4 (1946): 197-251. Also see Yves Congar, "Quod omnes tongit ab omnibus tractari et approbari debet," Revue historique de droit frwkais et diranger 36 (1958): 210-259.

10 See Unitatis redintegratio 9, 14, 18, 19, 21.

11. See Gaudium et spes 21, 92.

12. See Gaudium et spes 3, 40

 

 

 

 

 

The Reception Process: The Challenge at the Threshold of a New Phase of the Ecumenical Movement

"Koinonia/communio" and "dialogue and reception": These are the key terms on which theologians are today focusing their thinking about the ongoing ecumenical process. Koinonia/communio describe the form of Christian unity; "dialogue and reception" describe the way to unity.

The two themes are closely connected. The way must correspond to the goal. If the goal is a communio of sister Churches, then on the way to that goal there must be the beginning of the kind of behavior proper to sister Churches. In the early Church, which thought of itself as a communio of sister Churches, the vital bonds between these Churches were manifested in mutual exchanges or, in other words, in dialogue with one another and in the reception of traditions or confessions of faith which each then made its own. Dialogue and reception are processes that today are already binding the separated Churches together. But just as the communio of these Churches is not yet complete, so too dialogue and reception between them are not yet complete. Therefore the effort to achieve a more complete reception of one another in Christ through dialogue in truth with one another is precisely the way that will lead to a full communio among sister Churches.

1. Reception as an Ecumenical Problem

In Una Sancta for 1996, Cardinal Cassidy described "the question of reception" as "one of the greatest challenges facing us today."(1) In the same periodical Koarad Raiser expressed his agreement with the cardinal. In addition to the lack of coordination among the bilateral and multilateral dialogues and to the problem of achieving, within the Churches, a binding reception of the results of dialogue, Raiser mentions one reason in particular that makes this reception of the results of dialogue difficult: "The paths thus far traveled 'in the ecumenical movement have taken the separated Churches as their starting point and sought to overcome the division by convergence and formal agreement."(2) When, in the process, many of the reasons for separation were discovered to be based on misunderstandings or to be historically conditioned and therefore no longer a reason for the separation of Churches, that for sure was already a considerable step forward.

On the other hand, each Church still evaluates declarations of convergence in light of the present state of its own teaching, without checking to see whether the other traditions may not also represent a challenge to expand, complement, enrich, or even revise its own tradition. "As long as the 'individual Churches evaluate declarations of convergence in light of the official state of their teaching, the process of reception will never advance."(3) These Churches remain in the "phase of defensive protection of their own identity, which is understood as what distinguishes them from other Churches."(4) What is said of declarations of convergence can be said also of the results of multilateral dialogues. These too to come up against limits in the capacity for reception, since there is no binding framework within which reception can take place." (5)

Raiser therefore suggests that we no longer regard bilateral and multilateral dialogues as simple contacts between separated Churches. Rather these dialogues and their reception should be viewed as phases in a comprehensive conciliar process. His suggestion takes "for its starting point the decisive presupposition that without any action on their part there already exists between the Churches a real community that pushes them toward full catholicity. The dialogues between the Churches are dialogues within community and not simply means of achieving community."(6)

Thus, the analysis of the present state of ecumenism shows 1) that the lack of reception by the Churches of the past and future results of dialogue is today the most important obstacle on the road to Christian unity. 2) We are on the threshold of a new phase of ecumenism, because this obstacle can be removed only by a change in the present attitude and outlook. Raiser refers to the most recent study document of the Dombes Group, which speaks of a needed "conversion" of the Churches, that is, a shift of attention from what still separates them to the task of strengthening all that already binds them together and that strengthens and expands the community between them.(7)

Before going on to speak of the convergence that exists on this point between the present General Secretary of the World Council of Churches and the Encyclical Ut unum sint, I must first take the further step of showing that the suggestion about dialogue and reception as phases of a conciliar process has not come out of the blue. It springs from theological reflection on what reception has meant in the ecclesial tradition and what it can mean today in the context of ecumenism.

2. Reception in the Early Church and in Present-day Ecumenism.

A closer reflection on reception as an important occurrence in the life of the Church began with the Second Vatican Council, both within the Roman Catholic Church and in the ecumenical movement. In the Catholic Church, it was, first of all, the convocation of the Council and the Council itself that turned attention once more to the early Church councils, the reception of which was part of the conciliar process. A second factor was the form of the early Church as a communio ecclesianun in which the particular Churches had their own role in the reception process. This was the idea that governed the Council's reformof the Church.

Both of these factors also awakened a new interest in reception within the ecumenical movement. Two farther factors strengthened this interest. First, the Council raised the question for the other Churches and the ecumenical movement of whether and what they could receive from the Council. Second, the increasing participation of Orthodox Churches in the World Council of Churches from 1961 on turned attention to the communio ecclesianirn idea of the early Church, since this remained a living presence in the eastern consciousness, more so than 'in the West.(8)

Since the Council, the newly awakened 'interest 'in reception has led to a series of historical and systematic studies, in both Catholic(9) and ecumenical theology.(10) For the time being, the climax of these studies, at the level of conferences, was reached, in the ecumenical realm, at the Sixth Forum on Bilateral Dialogues in 1994(11) and, in the Catholic realm, at the Third International Colloquy of Salamanca in 1996.(12)

It can be said, speaking quite generally, that theological reflection on reception has focused on three points. A first has been historical study of the phenomenon of reception, with regard especially to the reception of conciliar decrees in the course of Church history.(13) Scholars discovered how, essential a role reception played in the life of the early Church. A second key issue has been a more accurate conceptual and systematic definition of reception and its role in the life of the Church.(14) A third has been the historical and systematic investigation of the relationship between the part played by reception and the contemporary ecclesiology of a given period. Here it was found that reception had its place in an ecclesiology that understood the Church to be a koinonia, a sacramental communio ecclesianun. In a conception of the Church as a centrally governed organization or in one in which the separated Churches were seen as simply a loose association with only few bonds of community, reception did not have an theological role in its own right.

It is obvious how important all this new information is for the reform of the Catholic Church and for the ecumenical movement. It is also this new knowledge that has led to the suggestion that the reception of ecumenical dialogues should be regarded as part of a conciliar process.

For a more precise definition of reception in the early Church, we can be satisfied here with Yves Congar's now classic formulation-. "By 'reception' I understand here the process by which an ecclesial body truly makes its own a resolution which it had not given to itself, recognizing in the measure so promulgated a rule which is applicable to its own life."(15)

The definition contains the key elements: 1. Reception is a more or less lengthy process. 2. Reception involves an active assent that signifies an independent judgment of the recipient and is not simply an act of obedience to a higher authority. 3. The recipients - whether a particular Church or a synod or a council - act as relatively independent subjects. 4. The material that is received originates, at least to a certain extent, in a source outside the recipient's own body. 5. The criterion for reception is the knowledge and experience that this material does not contradict the recipient's own tradition and shows that it will advance and enrich the inner life of the community.

In his contribution to the Third International Colloquy in Salamanca William Henn shows that a new phase in the ecumenical discussion on reception began in the seventies." During those years the first results of the ecumenical dialogues made their appearance, and the question arose of their reception by the Churches. A further stimulus to this discussion came from the decision of the Faith and Order Commission in 1982 to send the Lima Document on Baptism, Eucharist, and Ministry to the Churches with a request that they take an official position on it. In the course of this discussion it was gradually realized that the classical understanding of the reception of councils could not be applied without modification to the reception of modem ecumenical texts. In 1986 Thomas Rausch described the difference as follows:

While the classical concept emerged in a church which understood itself as a communion of churches, it was nonetheless a united Church. In the ecumenical context, however, a new element appears; for now what is involved is a process of reception between churches separated from one another by differences of history, doctrine and structure. In the absence of communion between the churches, the process of reception is complicated considerably; as Anton Houtepen observes, "more theological consensus is needed to restore unity than to preserve unity."(17)

Despite the undeniable difference between classical reception and the present day reception of ecumenical texts, we today can still learn from the classical model. A series of renowned ecumenical theologians have developed a perspective on ecumenical reception in which they have done precisely that.(18) They suggest that we consider the reception of ecumenical documents as only one element in a broader ecumenical reception. The very fact of entering into dialogue, even prior to the production of any documents, is already an act of mutual reception that recognizes the other community as a sister to one's own community or, at least, as a partner in dialogue, on the basis of a already existing communion, a partner with whom one should enter into lull communion. Thus, elements of mutual reception, especially the mutual reception of the parties involved, precede the holding of a dialogue and are woven into the text which emerges from the dialogue process. Furthermore, dialogue is essentially incomplete without the reception of its results. The text, then, is only "the tip of the iceberg," as Gunther Gassmann has put it."(19)

This comprehensive approach has recently gained acceptance in several ecumenical documents dealing with reception. As the Sixth Forum on Bilateral Dialogues says,

ecumenical reception is the comprehensive process by which the churches make their own the whole range of results of their encounters with each other. It is thus far more than the official response to the results of dialogues, although such responses are essential. Reception is an integral part of the movement toward ... full communion.(20)

A further element in this new conception of reception, and an inheritance from the classical model of reception, is that it understands the agents of this comprehensive process to include all of the members of the Church, while specifying g the particular roles of Church leaders, of the whole body of the faithful, and of theologians. As Cardinal Willebrands says:

 Inasmuch as the entire people of God partakes in the search for and the unfolding of the truth of God's word, all the charisms and services are involved according to their station: the theologians by means of their research activities, the faithful by means of their preserving fidelity and piety, the ecclesial ministries and especially the college of bishops with its function of making binding doctrinal decisions. One can say that ministry and charism, proclamation and theology, magisterial ministry and sense of faith of the people, all act together in the reception process.(21)

The same three agents of reception are to be found in one of -the reports of the Sixth Forum on Bilateral Dialogues when it says: "Within the process of reception, church leaders, theologians and the people as a whole each have a part to play in accordance with their various responsibilities."(22) The Directory of the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unitv (1993) likewise speaks, emphatically and 'in detail, of the participation of all members of the Church in the reception process and of the triad of agents of reception. It does so in paragraphs 179-182, which are devoted entirely to the subject of reception.(23)

The same Directory also speaks of the spiritual climate in which alone there can be a successful ecumenical reception: "The life of faith and the prayer of faith, no less than reflection on the doctrine of faith, enter 'into this process of reception, by which the whole Church, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit... makes her own the fruits of a dialogue, in a process of listening, of testing, of judging and of living."(24)The necessity of conversion for a successful reception is made very clear in the report of the Sixth Forum on Bilateral Dialogues: The movement of the churches towards fuller communion with each other is only possible when they are open to renewal. Mutual openness, the removal of dividing differences of faith and order, and the reconciliation of memories presuppose changes of perspective and attitude. Without such a process of spiritual renewal, no progress towards visible unity is possible.

Consequently, reception of the results of ecumenical dialogues on the way towards unity both presupposes and furthers such renewal. Without a readiness to be renewed by the experiences and insights of other traditions, a church and its members are not inclined to receive the results of a dialogue. Dialogue exposes a church to the challenges and enriching gifts it may receive from other traditions. Reception and renewal are thus two aspects of the same reality of moving towards fuller communion.(25) This spiritual ecumenism is undoubtedly a decisive element in the comprehensive conception of reception and the soul of the mutual reception of one another that precedes and accompanies the reception of the documents.

3. The Contribution of the Encyclical Et unum sint

As a third step I want to take a brief look at he Encyclical Ut unum sint of

1995, insofar as it deals with our subject. After the Decree Unitatis Redintegratio of the Second Vatican Council this encyclical is undoubtedly the most important official statement issued by the Roman Catholic Church on the subject of ecumenism. The encyclical surprised many with its excellence, its strong backing of ecumenical concern and progress, and its forward-looking attitude. On essential points, of course, it follows Um'tatis Redintegratio, but there are some new emphases. The question I am asking is this-. Is there a convergence here with the proposal of Konrad Raiser, which I sketched in my first step and the development of which I traced in my second?

Let us look first at the understanding of dialogue and reception. In its first chapter the encyclical offers a remarkable anthropology of dialogue.(26) From this it derives the criterion of "reciprocity." It then makes this important observation:

It is necessary to pass from antagonism and conflict to a situation where each party recognizes the other as a partner. When undertaking dialogue, each side must presuppose in the other a desire for reconciliation, for unity in truth. For this to happen, any display of mutual opposition must disappear. Only thus will dialogue help to overcome division and lead us closer to unity. (27)

This requirement corresponds exactly to Raiser's proposal that others be perceived and accepted not as separated Churches but as partners and eventually as sister churches. The issue, then, is the mutual reception of one another that precedes and accompanies the reception of the results of dialogue, and, therefore, the comprehensive conception of reception.

The encyclical describes spiritual ecumenism as the "soul" of the new outlook.(28) Spiritual ecumenism plays a very important role in the encyclical, which speaks at length of the "primacy of prayer"(29) and of "renewal and conversion."(30) Conversion helps to change the "way of looking at things"; it causes other Christians and Churches to be seen in a new light and leads to the discovery of their riches of sanctity, holy men and women, and Christian commitment. At the same time, this conversion makes one aware of one's own imperfections and sins against other Christians and so opens the way to one's own renewal.(31) For this reason, the encyclical speaks repeatedly of "the dialogue of conversion."(32) Part of the common ground created by dialogue and reception is a shared view of the criterion for binding truth. The encyclical says: "By engaging in frank dialogue, Communities help one another to look at themselves together 'in the light of the Apostolic Tradition. This leads them to ask themselves whether they truly express in an adequate way all that the Holy Spirit has transmitted through the Apostles."(33)The encyclical is the first papal document to deal expressly with ecumenical reception and to describe this as a new challenge.(34) In the third chapter we read: "A new task lies before us: that of receiving the results already achieved. These cannot remain the statements of bilateral commissions but must become a common heritage."(35)

Like the documents mentioned earlier, the encyclical, too, speaks of the triad of agents of reception.(36) It describes reception in greater detail as "a broad and precise critical process which analyzes the results and rigorously tests their consistency with the Tradition of faith received from the Apostles and lived out in the community of believers."(37) This description of reception as "critical process" is entirely in keeping with the classical understanding of reception. But, as was already the case in the early Church, it raises the question of the criteria of truth. It is noteworthy that here and in other passages the encyclical refers not simply to the present state of the teaching of the Catholic Church but to the tradition of the apostles as still taught and lived in the Church today. By this tradition is undoubtedly meant, also and not least, the tradition of faith of the Catholic Church. In fact, in another passage and with a reference to Unitatis RedinteLrratio, the encyclical declares that the full truth of Christ has always been maintained in this Church.(38) But this declaration is accompanied by distinctions.

As the encyclical says in the passage on dialogue that I cited a moment ago, the Catholic Church submits itself, along with the other Churches, to the critical question of "whether they truly express in an adequate way all that the Holy Spirit has transmitted through the Apostles."(39) This self-critical question is part of reception as a "critical process." The encyclical further declares that "certain features of the Christian mystery have at times been more effectively emphasized" in the other Churches.(40) Consequently, it does not insist on the formulation of the faith that has come down to us in the Catholic Church as the sole criterion of truth. It regards it as possible that in the reception of ecumenical dialogue the way in which the truth of the faith has thus far been expressed in its own tradition may prove less helpful on the way to unity in the truth. Thus the encyclical says:

Taking up an idea expressed by Pope John XXIII at the opening of the Council, the Decree on Ecumenism mentions the way of formulating doctrine as one of the elements of a continuing reform.... (For) doctrine needs to be presented in a way that makes it understandable to those for whom God himself intends it.(41) For this reason, it is said at the end of the section on reception: "In all this, it will be a great help methodologically to keep carefully in mind the distinction between the deposit of faith and the formulation in which it is expressed, as Pope John XXIII recommended in his opening address at the Second Vatican Council."(42)

If I understand the encyclical correctly, Pope John Paul II already applies this methodology to the question of the Petrine office. He accepts "the request made of me to find a way of exercising the primacy which, while in no way renouncing what is essential to its mission, is nonetheless open to a new situation."" The pope cautiously distinguishes between the modem absolutist and centralist exercise of the primacy and the biblically based Petrine office and its exercise during the first millennium, and he invites other Christians "to engage with me in a patient and fraternal dialogue on this subject, a dialogue in which, leaving useless controversies behind, we could listen to one another, keeping before us only the will of Christ for his Church and allowing ourselves to be deeply moved by his plea" for unity.(44)As has already become clear, an integral understanding of reception depends on emphasizing no longer the separation but rather the existing common ground and community among the partners in dialogue. It is this respect that the encyclical displays the greatest advance beyond the Decree on Ecumenism. The many ecumenical encounters of which the pope speaks in his encyclical have evidently enabled him to share the same experience.

Thus he writes that "the one Church of Christ is effectively present" 'in other Christian Communities.(45) And again: "it is not that beyond the boundaries of the Catholic community there is an ecclesial vacuum."(46) The encyclical describes as "a basic ecclesiological statement" the wish expressed 'in the Directory of the Pontifical Council for a reciprocal official recognition of baptisms.(47) In Chapter two, "brotherhood rediscovered" is listed as the first of "the fruits of dialogue." The text goes on to say: "There is an increased awareness that we all belong to Christ. I have personally been able many times to observe this. ... The 'universal brotherhood' of Christians has become a firm ecumenical conviction."(48)

The encyclical sees one sign of this new outlook in a changed vocabulary, which it too accepts. People are speaking increasingly, not of "separated brothers," but of "other Christians" or "others who have received Baptism" or "Christians of other Communities." The Directory describes other communities as "Churches and Ecclesial Communities that are not in fall communion with the Catholic Church."(49)

The pope sees the division as having been overcome most of all in the spiritual realm. It is worth noting that in his view the very close union of Christians has already been accomplished "in the full communion of the Saints" and especially in a "common Martyrology."(50) The pope speaks of the martyrs several times. In the Introduction he says: "These brothers and sisters of ours, in the selfless offering of their lives for the Kingdom of God, are the most powerful proof that every factor of division can be transcended and overcome in the total gift of self for the sake of the Gospel."(51) In the third chapter he writes: "I have already remarked, and with deep joy, how an imperfect but real communion is preserved and is growing. ... I now add that this communion is already perfect in what we all consider the highest point of the life of grace, martyria unto death, the truest communion possible with Christ."(52)

The pope also asks the provocative question: "Is not this same attachment at the heart of what I have called a 'dialogue of conversions Is it not precisely this dialogue which clearly shows the need for an ever more profound experience of the truth if full communion is to be attained?"(52) In fact, Orthodox, Protestant, and Catholic Christians had precisely this experience in the concentration camps and gulags of our century: Rarely has this experience been acknowledged in this way in an official document.

But the encyclical sees community being established even in ecumenical dialogues. It says: "The bilateral theological dialogues carried on with the major Christian Communities start from a recognition of the degree of communion already present."(54) The striking emphasis of the encyclical on contacts with the Churches of the East has attracted both attention and criticism. And yet, independently of any supposed ecumenical tactics, this emphasis follows naturally from the very starting point of the encyclical. For it is because of the more complete community in faith and order with these Churches that the dialogue with them comes closest to the model of "dialogue and reception among sister Churches."Thus an analysis of the Encyclical Ut unum sint shows an extensive convergence with the proposals of the General Secretary of the World Council of Churches as to how the challenge raised by the task of reception can be met by a more complete and rounded understanding of what reception is.

4. Remaining Disagreements and Reception

In a fourth and final step I want to turn to the question of remaining disagreements. This question arises not only as a task of further dialogues but also, and in a special way, as a task for reception. Thus, for example, the very important Lutheran-Roman Catholic Common Statement on "Church and Justification" (1994) reaches a fundamental agreement on the question of justification; and yet a section entitled "Areas of Controversy" lists a series of remaining disagreements.(55) Similar remarks occur in other ecumenical documents. The question arises, therefore, of the reception of such documents.

It can be said, first of all, that the common acknowledgment of remaining disagreements already represents ecumenical progress. For this common acknowledgment does not detract from the existing common ground and community but, on the contrary, is an expression of it and strengthens it. This is certainly the view of the Encyclical Ut unum sint, which lists five such areas.(56) In addition, the disagreements differ among themselves 'in importance and are not unaffected by agreements already reached. This is especially true if they are seen in the setting of a dynamic process of dialogue and reception in which others are taken seriously as partners and their concerns are regarded as possible enrichments of one's own tradition.

In dealing with remaining disagreements in the process of dialogue and reception, two kinds of criteria may be distinguished in principle. The first kind I would call criteria for the differentiation and evolution of disagreements, the second kind, criteria of truth. Three criteria for the differentiation and evaluation of remaining disagreements can be found in the Encyclical Ut unum sint. The first I have already cited; it is "the distinction between the deposit of faith and the formulation in which it is expressed."(57) If a disagreement has its basis only or chiefly in traditional formulations, then it is necessary "to find the formula which, by capturing the reality in its entirety, will enable us to move beyond partial readings and eliminate false interpretations.(58) For "the element which determines communion in truth is the meaning of truth. The expression of truth can take different forms."(59)

The Encyclical gives as a second criterion the "order or 'hierarchy' of truths, since they vary in their relationship to the foundation of the Christian faith."(60) In fact, a joint working out of the relationship of controverted doctrines with the foundation of the Christian faith (that is, with the mystery of Christ and the coming of the reign of God) can help in grasping the differing importance of disagreements, in understanding the concerts of others, and perhaps in Jointly setting new priorities that will open the way to an agreement. This point was also made in The Notion of "Hierarchy of Truths." An Ecumenical Interpretation, , a study document commissioned and received by the Joint Working Group of the Roman Catholic Church and the World Council of Churches in 1990.(61)

The third criterion reads: In the process "towards the necessary and sufficient visible unity ... one must not impose any burden beyond that which is strictly necessary (see Acts 15:28)."(62) Jean-Marie R. Tillard has underscored the importance of this criterion: "'Reception' is thus found to be completely dependent on the definition of the phrase id guod requiritur et sufficit."(63)

As a matter of fact, these three criteria make clear the possibility of a plurality of ways of expressing and living the faith, without harming or lessening the communion in truth. Such a plurality is already to be seen in the New Testament writings and in the Churches of the first millennium. All three criteria for differentiating and evaluating remaining disagreements are thus an important help in showing whether or not these disagreements are an obstacle to the acceptance of full communion. The criteria of truth are necessarily connected with the foregoing criteria, but they are the decisive ones in the final analysis. The problem that arises for reception at this point was mentioned at the beginning of my lecture. It is the inclination of Churches to receive ecumenical documents solely on the basis of their own traditions. Tillard criticizes the similar outlook which accepts "from the agreed text only 'what has always been thought and stated' within its own tradition and refuses anything which challenges or is alien to it. In this case, the tradition of the group becomes the gauge of acceptance, a stand which implies the refusal to risk becoming seriously involved."(64)

As the criteria of truth according the Roman Catholic Church the Encyclical Ut unum sint lists: "Sacred Scripture and the great Tradition of the Church. Catholics have the help of the Church's living Magisterium."(65) Or, in the formulation cited earlier: "The tradition of faith received from the Apostles and lived out in the community of believers gathered around the Bishop, their legitimate Pastor."(66)

In fact, however, the normative role of tradition and the magisterium is disputed among the Churches. The Encyclical Ut unum sint lists among the five still controversial areas: "I) the relationship between Sacred Scripture, as the highest authority in matter of faith, and Sacred Tradition, as indispensable to the interpretation of the Word of God," and "4) the Magisterium of the Church, entrusted to the Pope and the Bishops in communion with him, understood as a responsibility and an authority exercised in the name of Christ for teaching and safeguarding the faith."(67)

The clarification and removal of these disagreements is an urgent task because further ecumenical reception depends on it in great measure. Unless I am completely wrong, two distinct problems, and the confusion of the two, play a role in the disagreements mentioned. A first and more basic problem is to be seen in the Churches of the Reformation and has to do with the acceptance of the normative role of the Church, its tradition, and its magisterium in the communication and preservation of the revelation. For it was part of the original experience of these Churches that the Church, at times and in part, failed in this function. The other problem arises out of the hermeneutical difficulties in the interpretation of tradition and in making the necessary distinction between binding "Tradition" (with a capital T) and purely human "traditions." Not infrequently this second problem is assigned a more fundamental significance because it is confused with the first.

In this regard, it may be noted that the hermeneutical difficulties are no fewer in the interpretation of the sacred scriptures. In addition, it must be observed that all the Churches which reject universal tradition as a rule of truth in the interpretation of the scriptures and insist on their own particular tradition as sole criterion of truth, do not adopt a credible point of view. Finally, it must be said that the concrete hermeneutical difficulties arising in the interpretation of sacred scripture and ecclesial tradition do not in themselves form a problem specific to any tradition or one that should separate Churches. This problem, after all, arises even within the Roman Catholic Church (think, for example, of the discussion among Catholics of the ordination of women) and it also arises within the other Churches. Even the as yet undivided Church of the first millennium faced the problem, as can be seen from Vincent of Lerins' Commonitorium in the fifth century. The Encyclical Ut unum sint refers to norms of truth developed at that time when it says that matters of faith "require universal consent, extending from the Bishops to the lay faithful, all of whom have received the anointing of the Holy Spirit. It is the same Spirit who assists the Magisterium and awakens the sensus fidei."(68)

What, then, is to be done? Ecumenical agreement is already being started regarding the normative role of the Church - that is, of the entire people of God and the magisterium -- and also regarding the fundamental distinction between "Tradition" with a capital T and "traditions." But further clarification is needed, and the question is closely connected with the question of justification.

With regard to the second problem, namely, an agreement on "Tradition" (with a capital T), its hermeneutical assessment, and its binding force, it is desirable that the Tradition of the as yet undivided Church of the first millennium, especially its Christological and Trinitarian doctrinal decrees and its status as a communio ecclesiarum, be given priority over the later confessional developments of a particular Church. This is not a plea for a fossilized classicism. What is being recommended is rather the path of a patient re-reception (to use Yves Congar's term) of this great and universal tradition and its decisions. Such a re-reception not only takes its bearings from the past, but at the same time it heeds the "sips of the times," above all the urging of the Spirit to a full community of Churches and the need of a credible preaching by a reconciled Christianity.

Common statements about the profession of the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed, as well as many other ecumenical documents, have already been following this path. The Roman-Catholic Church expressly follows it in its relation with the Churches of the East. Many voices in Rome point out that Rome is striving for an ecumenical agreement on the Petrine office on the basis of the first millennium and the exercise of the primacy during that period. In the Encyclical Ut unum sint we read: "For a whole millennium Christians were united in a 'brotherly fraternal communion of faith and sacramental life. ... If disagreements in belief and discipline arose among them, the Roman See acted by common consent as moderator."(69)

In 1982 Cardinal Ratzinger was already writing: "When it comes to the doctrine of the primacy, Rome must not demand more of the East than was formulated and taught in the first millennium."(70)

The first millennium also provides a model for ecumenical reception in our day. Although it is true that "more theological consensus is needed to restore unity than to preserve unity" and that there is consequently a certain difference between classical reception and present-day ecumenical reception, Edward Kilmartin is correct in saying that "as in the case of Nicaea 1, Chalcedon and the rest of the so-called ecumenical councils of the first millennium, reception took place through a more or less complicated process."(71)

I want to end with a citation from the 1985 statement of the Inter-Orthodox Symposium on the Lima documents; it takes its direction from the classical concept of reception: "Reception at this stage is a step forward 'in the 'process of our growing together in mutual trust ...' towards doctrinal convergence and ultimately towards 'communion with one another in continuity with the apostles and the teachings of the universal Church'. (72)NOTES1. Edward I. Cardinal Cassidy, Welche nichsten Schritte in der Okumene sind iiberfiillig, realislerbar und wiinschenswert?, in: Una Sancta 51 (1996), 117.

 

NOTES

 

1. Edward I. Cardinal Cassigy, Welche nachsten Schritte in der Okumene sind uberfallig, realisierbar und wunschenswert?, in : Una Sancta 51 (1996), 117.

2. Konrad Raiser, Welche nachsten Schritte in der Okumene sind iiberfallig, realislerbar und wiinschenswert?, in: Ibid., 123.

3. Ibid., 124.

4. Ibid., 126.

5. Ibid., 124.

6. Ibid., 123.

7. Ibid., 126; Groupe des Dombes, Pour la conversion des (Paris: Centurion, 1991).

8. See Thomas P. Rausch, Reception Past and Present, in: Theolological Studies 47 (1986), 497508; William G. Rusch, Reception - An Ecumenical Opportuniiy (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1988), 13-32; Franz Wolfinger, Die Rezeption theologischer Einsichten und ihre theologische und 6kumenische Bedeutung: von der Einsicht zur Verwirklichung, in: Catholica 31 (1977), 202-233; Hermann J. Pottmeyer, Rezepfion und Gehorsain: Aktuelle Aspekte der wiederentdeckten Realitiit "Rezeption", in: Wolfgang Beinert, ed., Glaube als Zusfimmuniz. Zur Interpretation kirchlicher Rezeptionsvorgange (Freiburg: Herder, 1991), 51-91.

9. See Aloys Grillmeier, Konzil und Rezeption: Methodische Bemerkungen zu einem Thema der okumenischen Diskussion der Gegenwart, in: Theologie und Philosolphie 45 (1970), 321352; Idem, The Reception of Chalcedon in the Roman Catholic Church, in: The Ecumenical Review 22 (1970), 383-41 1; Yves Congar, La recepfion comme r6alit6 eccl6siolo 'que, in: Revue des sciences philosophiques et theologiques 56 (1972), 369-403; Giuseppe Alberigo, Jean-Pierre Jossua, Joseph A. Komonchak, eds., The Reception of Vatican II (Washington: The Catholic University of America Press, 1987); Aloys Klein, Rezeption der ecumenischen Dialoge, in: Klaus Liidicke, Heinrich Mussinghoff, Hugo Schwendenwein, ed., Justus Index (Essen: Ludgerus, 1990), 31-39; Wolfgang Beinert, ed., Glaube als Zusfimmuniz: Zur Interpretation kirchlicher Rezepfionsvorgange (Freiburg: Herder, 1991); Gilles Routhier, La reception d'un concile (Paris: Cerf, 1993); Jean-Marie R. Tillard, La reception comme exigence oecumenique, in: Gillian R. Evans, Nfichel Gourgues, ed., Communion et r6union. Manges J.M.R- Tillard (Louvain: University Press, 1995), 75-94; Angel Anton, La "reception" en la Iglesia y eclesiologia (I), in: Gregorianum 77 (1996), 57-96; (111), in: Ibid., 437-469.

10. See Liviu Stan, On the Reception of the Decisions of Ecumenical Councils by the Church, in: Councils and the Ecumenical Movement (Geneva: WCC Studies 5, 1968), 68-75; Werner Kuppers, Reception, Prolegomena to a Systematic Study, in: Ibid., 76-98; Kurt Schmidt-Clausen, Die Rezeption der Dialogue, 362.

11. Reports of the Sixth Forum on Bilateral Dialogues 1994 5.

12. III. Colloque International Salamanque 1996, La reception et la communion entre les eglises.

13. See Aloys Grillmeier, The Reception of Church Councils, in: Paul McShane, ed., Foundations of Theology: Papers from the Internetional Lonergan Congress (Dublin: Gill and Macmillan, 1971), 102-114; Hermann J. Sieben, Die Konzilsidee der Alten Kirche (Paderborn: Schoningh, 1979); Edward J. Kilmartin, Reception in History: An Ecclesiological Phenomenon and its Significance, in: Journal of Ecumenical Studies 21 (1984), 34-54; Klaus Schatz, Rezeption 6kumenischer Konzilien im ersten Jahrtausend: Schwierigkeiten, Formen der Bewaltigung und verweigerte Rezeption, in: Wolfgang Beinert, ed., Glaube als Zustimmung, 93-122; Gilles Routhier, La reception d'un concile.

14. See the comprehensive bibliography in: Angel Anton, La "reception' en la Igiesia y eciesiologia (I) and (H); III. Colloque International Salamanque 1996

15. Yves Congar, La reception comme realite ecclesiologique, 370.

16. William Henn, The Reception of Ecumenical Documents, in: III. Colloque International Salarnanque 1996, La reception et la communion entre les eglises.

17. Thomas P. Rausch, Reception Past and Present, 500.

18. Gunther Gassmann, Rezeption im okumenischen Kontext, in: Okumenische Rundschau 26 (1977), 314-327; Idem, Die Rezeption der Dialoge, in: Ibid. 33 (1984), 357-368-1 Idem, The Official Responses to the Lima Document, in: Ecumenical Trends 15 (1986), 186-188; see also John D. Zizioulas, The Theological Problem of "Reception", in: One in Christ 21 (1985), 137-193; Jean-Marie Tillard, Reception - Communion..

19. Gunther Gassmann, Die Rezeption der Dialoge, 362.

20. Reports of the Sixth Forum on Bilateral Diadoizues 1994 5.

21. Johannes Cardinal Willebrands, The Ecumenical Dialogue and its Reception, 222.

22. Reports of the Sixth Forum on Bilateral Dialogues 1994, 6.

23, Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity, Directory for the Applications of the Principles and Norms of Ecumenism, paragraphs 179-182.

24. Ibid., paragraph 180.

25. 'Reports of the.Sixth Forum on Bilateral Dialogues 1994, 7.

26. Pope John Paul II, Encyclical Letter "Ut Unum Sint" (25 May 1995), 28-30 (UUS).

27. Ibid., 29.

28. Ibid. 28.29. Ibid., 21-30.

30. Ibid., 15-17.

31. Ibid., 15.

32. Ibid., 82.

33. Ibid., 16.

34. Ibid., 80-81.

35. Ibid., 80.

36. Ibid., 80-81,

37. Ibid., 80.

38. Ibid., 10-11.

39. Ibid., 16.

40. Ibid., 14.

41. Ibid.,18-19.

42. Ibid., 81.

43. Ibid., 95.

44. Ibid., 96.

45. Ibid., ll.

46. Ibid., 13.47. Ibid., 42.48. Ibid.49. Ibid.

50. Ibid., 84.

51. Ibid., 1.52. Ibid., 84.

53. Ibid., 83.54. Ibid., 49.

55. Lutheran-Roman Catholic Statement "Church and Justification", 1994, paragraphs 174-241. 56. UUS, 79.

57. Ibid., 81.

58. Ibid., 38.

59. Ibid., 19.

60 Ibid., 37.

61. "A Study Document Commissioned and Received by the Joint Working Group of the Roman Catholic Church and the World Council of Churches, The Notion of 'Hierachv of Truths'. An Ecumenical Interpretation (Geneva: FOP 150, 1990), 16-24.

62. UUS, 78.

63. Jean-Marie Tillard, "Reception"-. A Time to Beware of False Steps, in: Ecumenical Trends 14 (1985), 148.

64. Ibid., 146.

65. UUS, 39.

66. Ibid., 80.

67. Ibid., 79.

68. Ibid., 80.

69. Ibid., 95.

70. Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, Theologische Prinzipienlehre. Bausteine zur Fundamentaitheologle (Munchen: Wewel, 1982), 209.

71. Edward G. Kilmartin, Reception in History, 38.

72. Max Thurian, ed., Churches Respond to BEM 1 (Geneva: FOP 129, 1986), 124.

The Petrine Ministry in a Changing Church

Those who experienced the pontificate of Pope John XXIII will understand me when I say: it was easier in those years to speak of the Petrine ministry as God's gift to the church. Only a Pope could have initiated such fundamental changes in the church -- changes which many had hoped for. John shocked the Roman curia by throwing open the windows of the Apostolic Palace and letting in fresh air. This aggiomamento, as John called it opened windows all over the church. To make sure the windows stayed open, John called a reform Council.

Today even deeply committed Catholics severely criticize the church's central administration, the papacy included. Such criticism must not blind us, however, to the lasting importance of the Petrine ministry for the church. The Catholic Church is struggling today towards a new model of church. The Petrine ministry too is evolving. It has an indispensable role in shaping the new ecclesial model.

Contemporary criticism of the papacy reflects the disappointment of expectations aroused by the Council. Many of today's actively engaged Catholics were originally activated by the Council. Those who are now 45 years of age and older recall the heady years in which two Popes, John XXIII and Paul VI, initiated inner Catholic reform and opened the church, previously shuttered and barred, to the ecumenical movement and to the modem world.

In our excitement over this renewal we forgot that there are limits which even a Pope cannot transcend. I am thinking not so much of the theological limits of the papal ministry, about which the Council spoke, as of the practical limits of his influence -- above all on the Roman curia, without which no pope can lead the church. Paul VI may have discarded the tiara and the sedia gestatoria, ed his cardinals' trains and reduced -the ceremonial of the papal court. But the mentality of imperial rule which these symbols expressed has survived their abolition -- at least in the church's central administration, though less in the post-conciliar popes themselves.

Nor has the mentality of ordinary Catholics changed as much as we might suppose. For centuries we were told that "church" meant first of all the Pope, the bishops and the clergy. We were their obedient subjects. The Council spoke about the priesthood of all believers and our fundamental equality as brothers and sisters. But the old mentality perdures. How many of us still think first, at any mention of "the church", of the Pope, the bishops, and the clergy?

It is not only the baggage of history which hampers the development of the new mentality desired by Pope John and the Council majority. Self-preservation is no monopoly of the Roman curia. It characterizes church officials everywhere. Clerical careerists, eager to reach the top of the greasy pole, lose no opportunity of proving their adherence to the party line. Non-catholics have a vested interest in preserving unchanged their image of Rome, the ancient foe. All of us find the concept of the church inherited from the past easier to understand than new models whose contours are not yet clear. Responsibility for the faltering pace of church renewal is widely shared.

Moreover, criticism of the Pope and the church's central administration, even when justified, can easily become an excuse for our own laziness. Even if everything in the church is not as we are entitled to wish, does this prevent us from living in our parishes, communities, and families as truly joyful, committed disciples of Christ? Are not many of the Pope's contemporary critics really continuing the papal personality cult inherited from the nineteenth century? Can the Pope really be blamed for everything? Our Protestant brethren have their own crisis of faith. Can the Pope be blamed for that?

At the same time there is still much in church life for which we can thank God -- many signs that the bold initiatives for Pope John and his Council have born fruit.. There is, first the growing consciousness that we are all church. Never before have so many Catholics taken an active role in church life. Never before have so many, all over the world, felt free to express their desire for a church of dialogue. If those involved are still a minority, this is because the kind of church they are striving to shape makes heavier demands of its members.

The decline in religious vocations and Mass attendance signals the disappearance not of the church, but of a particular ecclesial model developed in the last century. A new kind of church is struggling to be bom. Signs of deep spiritual hunger are evident everywhere -- among young people especially. Just look at -the appeal of pilgrimages, mass meetings of youth, new religious movements. All manifest the desire for a church which is a fellowship of believers.

Of course there are problems - polarization first of all. Some are impatient with the slow pace of church renewal. Others fear things are moving too fast and demand that authority intervene. Still others are too ready to embrace the spirit of the age or are so poorly grounded in faith that they are prepared to jettison core Christian beliefs.

This situation challenges all of us -- those responsible for maintaining the church's unity first of all. Church leaders too are anxious, uncertain, polarized. Precisely because we expect so much of them we need to give them our critical but real support. Especially in need of such support is the successor of Peter, for whose constancy in faith and love we pray in every Mass.

To express its desire that the church be a fellowship of adult believers the Council chose the biblical term "people of God." This evokes the image of God's people on pilgrimage to the promised land. The Council helped us to see that the church too is on pilgrimage, led by God to the promised consummation of history.

We must never identify the church with God's kingdom. We, and all humanity, are underway to the kingdom. Like the people of Israel, we must constantly fold up our tents and move on. It is widely recognized today that we are in transition from a mostly nineteenth-century model of the church to something new. This is not to deny that there are elements in the church which remain constant throughout history. One essential constant is the need to strike our tents and move on to new challenges and new forms of church life. Traditionalists, clinging desperately to the recent past, are not fulfilling God's will. Times. of transition force us to distinguish between non-essential baggage which we can leave behind, and elements whose abandonment would mean unfaithfulness to our call as God's people. Today's controversy over the ordination of women is an example of this necessary discernment.

Everything I have just said about the church applies also to the Petrine ministry. Its outward form during the first millennium was different from that of the middle ages. It changed again in the nineteenth century, to become the kind of papacy we know today. The Petrine office must change its form once more if it is not to become an obstacle and a foreign body in a church which is itself evolving. If the church is the people of God, then Pope John was a kind of new Moses, challenging us to lay aside fear and press on to new shores.

Closely connected with the image of the church as the people of God is today's growing realization that the church exists not for itself but for the world. The Council called the church the sacrament of salvation. It exists to prepare God's kingdom by promoting human fellowship: within the human family and with God. This is why the Council gave the laity priority in the church's mission. It is through the laity that the church meets the world.

Hence the need for decentralization so that the church can be once again a fellowship of local churches. For it is at the grass roots, in the diocese and parish, that the church and society most truly meet. The papacy, to speak quite frankly, is only just beginning to make the chances necessary in this regard. The Pope's worldwide visits to local churches are impressive first steps. But much remains to be done.

A further fruit of the Council is our deepened understanding of God and his way of acting in history. In an age when society was headed by kings and emperors it was natural to address God as king of kings and Lord of lords. The Old Testament has many examples. The Council preferred the language of Jesus and the New Testament. Since God is love, the Council spoke of God addressing us through his revelation as friends, inviting us into loving fellowship with himself, making us adult partners in his work of bringing in the kingdom. The greatest sign of this partnership is the incarnation, in which God, through the consent of a woman, came to us as our brother.

This has profound implications for the Petrine ministry. As long as people thought of God as supreme ruler, it was natural to think of his representative and Christ's earthly vicar as a ruler -- symbolized by the triple crown and the court ceremonial which Paul VI curtailed. The Pope's governmental style was also imperial. Reconciling all this with the example of Jesus, who washed his disciples' feet and warned them not to lord it over the community, was always problematical. Today, however, these older images and symbols are discredited. An imperial governmental style contradicts the image of a God who treats us as adult partners in bringing in his kingdom.

We have only just begun to implement these insights in church life. The development of synodal and collegial structures of church leadership is a first step. But they remain far short of what the Council called for -- not least because of the narrow limits imposed by canon law. Demands that the church become a democracy are misplaced. This would mean substituting the role of the majority for that of the Pope and the bishops. The proper goal, a far more difficult one, is consensus.

The Council helped us to differentiate between what is permanent in the church and what is changeable when it said: "The society structured with hierarchical organs and the mystical body of Christ, the visible society and the spiritual community... form one complex reality which comes together from a human and divine element" (LG 8). The divine element is God's continuing presence in his church. The human element is the church's outward form and the activities of its members. They "form one complex reality." But they are not identical. In every age the church must ask whether its human element adequately mediates God's presence. If not it must be changed.

The Petrine ministry is not exempt from this questioning. We must ask: is the Petrine ministry part of the church's permanent structure? and if so, what in that ministry is permanent and what changeable?--Our Catholic faith tells us that the God who invites us to be his partners commissions human beings for his service and entrusts them with responsibility for keeping the church faithful to the gospel and united in faith. The risen Lord sent his apostles to preach the gospel to all peoples, entrusting Peter with a special role. From the third century on the Roman bishops appealed to the well known Petrine texts to justify their pastoral responsibility beyond their local flock.

The interpretation of these texts is controverted. And it was not until the third century that they were cited to support the Petrine office. The New Testament speaks neither of Peter's successors nor of a Petrine office. It does speak, however, of successors to the apostles. If the apostles could pass on their mission to leaders of local churches (as the New Testament records), how can we exclude a transmission of Jesus' commission to Peter? Moreover, those who contend that Peter's primacy died with him ignore history. Only when the scattered local churches began to organize themselves into the church universal could it become clear that the Roman bishop, as Peter's successor, had a permanent responsibility for maintaining the unity of the whole church.

Was Jesus' commission to Peter unique to him and his successors? Or was it shared with the apostles and their successors? We need not choose between these interpretations. Both are important. Vatican H followed the ancient church in recognizing that the Roman bishop has special personal responsibility for the whole church. But it also said that he exercises this responsibility not in isolation, but together with his fellow bishops, as head and member of the episcopal college. That is why, from antiquity, important church decisions were reached at councils, the Pope and bishops acting together through consensus -- the fundamental principle of ecclesial action. A renewed Petrine ministry must give clearer expression to this principle.

A further difficulty arises from the attitude of the Eastern Church, which recognized the primacy of the Roman Church and its bishop, but not the kind of primacy claimed and accepted in the West. The Protestant Churches of the West on the other hand, originally criticized not so much the Pope's primacy as his failure to exercise it in accordance with the gospel. Giving the Petrine ministry a form which is ecumenically acceptable is undoubtedly one of the most difficult tasks facing the church today. There is ground for optimism, however, in Pope John Paul II's invitation in his recent Encyclical Ut unum sint to "church leaders and their theologians to engage with me in a patient a fraternal dialogue on this subject in which, leaving useless controversies behind, we could listen to one another, keeping before us only the will of Christ for his church" (96).

In the same Encyclical the Pope emphasizes two further aspects of the Petrine ministry touched upon above. It must be "a ministry of mercy, born of an act of Christ's own mercy" (in forgiving Peter's betrayal: 93) And it involves "the task, not of exercising power over the people -- as the rulers of the gentiles and their great men do... [but of] 'keeping watch' (episkopein) ... so that through the efforts of the pastors the true voice of Christ the shepherd may be heard in all the particular churches" (94).

Emphasizing the collegiality of the Petrine office, the Pope says: "When the Catholic Church affirms s that the office of the bishop of Rome corresponds to the will of Christ, she does not separate this office from the mission entrusted to the whole body of bishops, who are also 'vicars and ambassadors of Christ.'

The bishop of Rome is a member of the 'college', and the bishops are his brothers in the ministry" (95). The Pope, like the Council, rejects the use of the title "vicar of Christ" for himself alone. Already in 1970 the International Theological Commission recommended that this title be dropped, along with "head of the church,, " and that the Pope be referred to as "successor of Peter", "Bishop of Rome", or the church's "chief pastor".

We must still ask, however, on what grounds (apart from the biblical evidence) the Catholic Church that the Petrine office belongs to the essential and divinely willed elements of the church as people of God. This claim is based on the conviction, which is rooted in faith, that the development of a pastoral office with responsibility for maintaining church unity is a fruit of the Holy Spirits guidance promised by the Lord to his church. History confirms this conviction. Whenever the Petrine ministry has been exercised according to Christ's will and example, it has proved a blessing for the church, protecting its unity and defending its independence. This is confirmed by the experience of Christians who lack this office. They themselves regret that they have no one charged with preserving unity.

The Petrine office has often been misused. But it remains a gift of God to his church. We are challenged to perfect it so that it can serve all Christians. John Paul II has joined Paul VI in asking forgiveness from other Christians for the "painful recollections" they have of his office and the manner in which it has been exercised (Unum sint 88).

Moreover, the Petrine office is not the only one of God's gifts which the church has misused. There have been abuses of the name of Christ of holy scripture, of the sacraments, and of much else besides. Why does God permit such abuses? The answer must be sought in the mystery of a church which is composed of sinners whom God nonetheless treats as adult partners. God has established one limit only to abuses. Despite all our sins, he does not allow his church to be destroyed or his promised kingdom to be frustrated.

The failures of popes throughout history do not contradict Jesus' mission to Peter. Peter himself failed the Lord who commissioned him. In giving authority to his betrayer Jesus wanted to show us that he was establishing his church not on human strength but on God's love and faithfulness. These same divine attributes support us in the partnership to which our loving God summons us.

At the same time the abuses of papal power give the people of God in every age the right, and the duty, to ask whether the Petrine office is being exercised according to the will of Christ, whether it helps or hinders the proclamation of the gospel, whether it promotes the good of the church and humankind. Anyone who asks these questions out of concern for God's kingdom and for the church, free of spite and rancor - in the spirit of fraternal concern - is not the Pope's enemy. On the contrary . A Pope who invites separated. Christians to a dialogue about his office certainly does not intend to exclude Catholics from this dialogue.

The Catholic Church remains convinced that the Petrine office is a permanent part of its divine constitution. The New Testament uses three images to describe the ministry which Christ entrusted to Peter and through him to his successors. It calls him rock, the church's firm foundation. It says he has the keys of God's house, to keep out intruders and foreign elements. And it portrays him as the shepherd, charged to feed the flock and ward off dangers. These images do not define the Pope's powers. They show, however, that they must be sufficient to allow him to guard the church from harm and keep it faithful to the gospel. This excludes proposals for a more primacy of honor and anything which would make the shepherd just another member of the flock.

The New Testament is also quite clear, however, that the church's true foundation, lord, and shepherd is Christ himself The Pope is his servant, not his substitute. Even in his role as shepherd the Pope remains a brother of all Christ's sisters and brothers, shepherd among shepherds, a believer in the fellowship of believers. God's word is entrusted not just to the Pope, but to all the faithful.

The Petrine ministry can be experienced as God's gift to the church only to the extent that it develops new models corresponding to the new models of the church which it serves. These developments flow from the new understanding of the church and of God spoken of above.

There is first the growing consciousness that the church is all of us. For more and more Catholics, faith is no longer something inherited and taken for granted, but the fruit of a personal decision. They are aware of faith's horizontal dimension: they live as members of a community of believers whose common faith strengthens the faith of each individual. Hence the importance of the local faith community, whether that be the diocese, parish, youth group, basic community, or other spiritual fellowship. Church leaders need to encourage participation in such groups, while guarding against tendencies to separatism. They must raise awareness that God calls all of us to work for his kingdom in unity, fellowship, and cooperation. In such a church the Petrine ministry will be not less important but more. It must promote the feeling of responsibility in local churches, while guarding against isolationism.

In a church which understands itself as God's pilgrim people, called to confront new challenges, church leaders have a double duty. Instead of trying to preserve as much as possible from the past they should stride forward, like Moses, pressing those they lead to fold up their tents and journey on to the promised land. And they must continually direct people to Christ who alone can bring us to the goal of our pilgrimage in God's kingdom. This means enhanced importance for the Petrine ministry as well. Experiments by local churches, and the pluralism which results from efforts at inculturation in different milieux, make the preservation of unity especially urgent.

If the church exists not for itself but for the world, then it is at the local level, and especially through its lay members, that church and world meet. The church, like Jesus, must reach out to those whom society marginalizes. It must be a missionary church, a servant church. Laying aside paternalism, church leaders, including the Pope, must encourage local responsibility. The post-conciliar Popes have done this in matters of peace and justice. The present Pope's role in eastern Europe is well known. Whether the papacy has done as much to encourage social and political engagement by local churches elsewhere is another question.

Finally, our new awareness. that God exercises his sovereignty less through power than through love, which alone can move people to conversion, has consequences for church leadership. In John 21 Jesus asks Peter: "Do you love me more than these? Then feed my sheep." A papal style which reflects this greater love will enable the church to experience the Petrine office as God's gift by showing all of us how we can become signs and sacraments of God's love for humankind.

 

Refining the Question About Women’s Ordination

"The Pope is fully justified in saying that he has no authority to change the tradition on his own initiative. The proper forum for a decision in a matter of this kind is a council………If Jesus acted in accord with the culture of his day, then we can ask whether faithfulness to him does not require us to do the same."

Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith issued on Nov. 18, 1995, a "Response" to questions concerning the apostolic letter Ordinatio Sacerdotalis of May 1994, in which the Pope had stated that he had no authority to change the church's tradition of ordaining only men to the priesthood. Immediately thereafter Cardinal Joachim Meisner, , the archbishop of Cologne, published an article in the German Catholic weekly Rheinischer Merkur asserting that O.S. was an infallible ex cathedra papal statement (an instance of the Pope's extraordinary magisterium) confirming the unanimous teaching of the episcopal college (the ordinary magisterium), which is also infallible.

Corning hard on the heels of the Roman "Response," Meisner's article suggested that he had himself instigated this response. It is well known that Meisner was dissatisfied with the very moderate response of the German Bishops' Conference to O.S. If Meisner was among those who demanded that Rome speak to the question again, and more forcefully (as is widely assumed), then he did not get the infallible ex cathedra papal dogma he was looking for.

In the next issue of the paper I responded with an article contending that the Cardinal's interpretation of the C.D.F. "Response" was mistaken. I cited the quasi-official interpretation published in Osservatore Romano, signed with three stars. Most likely the author was Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger. It said much the same as an article about O.S. that Ratzinger had published in the international journal Communio in 1994.

Both of these commentaries emphasize that O.S. is an instance of the ordinary (i.e. non-infallible) magisterium, declaring that the church's unbroken tradition with regard to ordination is irreformable. This justifies the presumption that Cardinal Ratzinger had warned against an ex cathedra statement and that the C.D.R "Response" represented a compromise with those who were pressing for a papal dogma. Possible reasons for such a warning are not far to seek. Ratziner may have wished to avoid jeopardizing agreement with the Orthodox. Though they agree with Rome about women's ordination, they would not look kindly on a resolution of the question by papal flat. Moreover, Ratziner is all too familiar with the controversy over papal infallibility provoked by Hans Kung. The Cardinal may have wished to avoid providing fresh fuel for that fire by an ex cathedra definition regarding, the ordination of women.

Be that as it may, Rome's fundamental intention is clear: the desire to terminate debate about the ordination of women that is driven by appeals to equal rights, which is taking place in the United States and Germany especially, but elsewhere as well. Rome fears that this debate, as well as the actions already taken by Anglicans and Protestants, will create pressure to act-although the theological debate hitherto has failed to produce reasons to justify abandonment of a 2,000-year-old tradition. Rome's intention, in other words, was primarily pastoral. 'Mere was no desire to forbid responsible theological discussion. As in the case of the C.D.F.'s earlier ban of women's ordination, Inter Insigniores (1976), Rome pursued this pastoral goal by making use of magisterial statements that, though authoritative, were not at the highest level. These proved inadequate. Discussion continued, and with it an escalation of magisterial statements.

The Question: Fidelity to Jesus.

This has produced the situation we face today. Bishops and theologians are uncertain about the bindin- force of the Roman statements. Some bishops and some theologians feel they must keep silent. Others continue the previous discussion.

The question at issue is this: Is it possible, through an act of the Pope's ordinary magisterium, to declare definitively that a tradition is irreformable while the intention behind the tradition and its binding force are still the subject of serious theological discussion? The C.D.F. "Response" contends that the tradition is irreformable because it is based on the unbroken, universal teaching of the episcopal college. This contention is doubtful. The continuing theological discussion shows that the Pope has not achieved universal consensus among the bishops. Nor is it certain that the bishops today teach the exclusion of women from priestly ordination as "a teaching to be held definitively and absolutely" -- the prerequisite, according to "The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church" (No. 25), for the infallible exercise of the ordinary magisterium of the universal episcopate.

Before the publication of O.S. the Pope merely invited the presidents of the episcopal conferences to a brief meeting, at which they were presented with a text in which they could make few chanaes. A number of them are said to have warned against issuing a final prohibition of discussion about women's ordination. In these circumstances, many people are asking, can the church demand definitive assent? My article in response to Cardinal Meisner was an attempt to pay attention to Rome's just concerns while keeping the door open, if only a crack, for a responsible dialogue on this question. The article made four points.

1. Rome is quite right in affirming that women's ordination is not merely a question of church discipline. The question is rather this: In calling only men as his Twelve Apostles, did Jesus reveal the will of God for his church? That is a dogmatic question, involving the content of revelation.

I have no difficulty accepting that an essential motive of the church's 2,000-year tradition was the desire to be faithful to Jesus' action and example. Admittedly, many of the past arguments against women's ordination reflected the social and cultural conditions of their day. But these were merely arguments of convenience -- attempts to explain the practice of Jesus and of the church. The arguments advanced may be dated, what is crucial is the church's desire to be faithful to the practice of its Lord.

This desire was, in fact, so basic that there was hardly any discussion of the question until very recently. Given this fact, the Pope is fully justified in saying that he has no authority to change the tradition on his own initiative. Claiming such authority would be papalism of the most extreme kind. The proper forum for a decision in a matter of this kind is a council.

2. Why, nonetheless, has the Pope used only his ordinary, not Ws extraordinary teaching authority? I respond: with good reason. The Pope has said that he wishes to let the tradition speak for itself. That is noteworthy. For decades theologians have criticized the Pope for not giving sufficient weight in his doctrinal statements to Scripture and nation and for making too much use of his formal teaching authority. Here the Pope, in a question of grave importance, invokes not his supreme formal authority but the content of Scripture and tradition despite the fact (which we can safely assume) that he personally believes an ex cathedra declaration would be quite legitimate.

He embarks on this s welcome course, however, halfheartedly, thus involving, himself in a contradiction. For if he really wishes to let the weight of tradition speak for itself, he cannot invoke the authority of his office to demand definitive assent. Evidently he does not really trust the weight of tradition, or he does not trust us to recognize tradition's weight. It is possible that the C.D.F. noticed this contradiction and for this reason appealed as O.S. did not, to the ordinary teaching of the universal college of bishops.

Personally, I do not believe that the Pope intended to contradict himself. I believe he spoke quite deliberately. If he wished to give tradition its full weight and for this reason used only his ordinary and not his extraordinary teaching authority, then he wished the theological discussion to continue. provided the proper conditions were observed.

3. If the Pope permits, indeed wants us to reflect on the authority of tradition, we must inquire: Did the church in past centuries really ask whether faithfulness to Jesus required that only men be ordained? Indeed, could this question have been asked, given the social and cultural situations in which the church has lived hitherto? If the church did not ask this question, how can we claim that the impossibility of women's ordination was "a teaching to be held definitively and absolutely" ("The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church," No. 25)?

4. The defenders of tradition argue thus: Even if we grant that the church has been influenced by cultural factors, nonetheless Jesus himself chose freely and independently to call only men as apostles. In following Jesus' example, therefore. the church was not influenced simply by cultural considerations. I respond: Jesus' limitation of the Twelve to men was certainly free and independent. Had he included women, the Twelve would not have been understood as symbolizing Israel -- which for Jesus was crucial.

Hence the decisive step: If Jesus, in complete freedom, acted in accord with the culture of his day, then we can ask whether faithfulness to him does not require us to do the same. If we are to be true to his example, must we not take account of the changed role of women today? Is it not possible that tradition actually compels us not to limit ordination to men but rather to follow Jesus' example in taking seriously the culture of his time. This, it seems to me, is the decisive question before the church today.

Submit the Question to Prayer and Council

A few years ago, before the publication of O.S., I published a short article in my diocesan paper suggesting how the Pope might deal with the question of women's ordination. Shortly thereafter my bishop received a letter from Cardinal Ratzinger saying that I had disregarded the previous declaration Inter Insigniores, and asking the bishop to speak to me about this. Since, as a member of the International Theological Commission, I would soon see the Cardinal himself in Rome, the bishop asked him to speak to me. He did so a few weeks later.

This is what I had proposed. Since women's ordination was being so widely discussed, since changing tradition in such a matter would be so grave and since the theological discussion hitherto had failed to show whether a change was even possible, the Pope should invite the whole church to pray for guidance. We should pray, moreover, for signs of God's will. I compared our present situation to that of the apostles confronted with the question of whether Gentiles could be baptized. The apostles came to regard the conversion of Gentiles as a sip of the Spirit and of God's will.

When Cardinal Ratzinger confronted me with the argument that the question of women's ordination had already been settled in Inter Insigniores, I responded: If the Holy Spirit considers himself bound by that document, then I agree with you. I should like to ask, however: Even after Inter Insigniores. may we not continue to pray for enlightenment and for signs of God's will? The Cardinal smiled in a friendly manner and said no more, for he is a good theologian.

I remain convinced that most Catholics in the world today would understand and support the Pope if he were to say that he could not himself change tradition in this matter, but that since what was at stake was God's will, he was inviting everyone to prayer and dialogue and that he was summoning a council to make a final decision. Catholics would support such a declaration because it would show that their questions were being taken seriously and because the Pope would be acting as the spiritual leader of a church in dialogue.

In June of last year Leo Scheffczyk, emeritus professor of dogmatic theology in Munich, published an article criticizing me for "subverting" O.S. and the C.D.F. "Response" with "subtle theological arguments." Scheffczvk's argument was this: Once the Pope has declared authentically that the traditional teaching is infallible and has demanded definitive assent, further discussion of the authority of tradition in this question is forbidden. Hence my attempt to keep the door open for responsible discussion was illegitimate.

In point of fact, I do not question the church's tradition. I point rather to the intention this tradition embodies: the desire to remain faithful to Jesus' action. And I ask how we can best manifest this faithfulness today? The question remains: Can the Pope, by means of a non-infallible exercise of his authentic teaching office, declare a tradition permanently irreformable and demand definitive assent to such a declaration? And should he do this when the effect of such a declaration is to exclude not merely erroneous but even responsible discussion especially when the goal of this discussion is to discover, for today's church and in the light of new questions, the true significance of Jesus' action? It is significant that at the end of his article Scheffczvk regretted that the Pope had not chosen to make an ex cathedra declaration.

Choosing the Twelve.

Let me conclude. The question of women's ordination cannot be discussed or decided in the context of the debate over equal rights for women. Equality for women is God's will. Whether that means that God wants women to be ordained, however, still needs to be clarified. This means that we must properly understand Jesus' action in this regard, through which God has revealed his will to us, and we must decide this question in faithfulness to Jesus. Conceivably such faithfulness could lead us, in light of the "signs of the time," to change the previous tradition.

Moreover, the new role of women in today's society is one of the most important "signs of the time." We cannot reach a decision, however, through political correctness, but only by seeking God's will. I do not believe that the Pope wishes to forbid theological discussion that respects these postulates.

The decisive question for the church is this: What is the significance of Jesus' action in choosing and commissioning only men as members of the Twelve, and then after Easter sending women as the first witnesses and messengers of his resurrection? The Pontifical Biblical Commission declared rightly that the question of women's ordination cannot be decided on the basis of the historical method. Historical exegesis can uncover some important evidence for the intention of Jesus and his apostles, as well as information about the position of women in New Testament society, but it cannot do more than that.

Nor can the question be decided solely on the basis of subsequent church tradition. The changing role of women in today's society compels us to face this question afresh. Study of church tradition can disclose the motives and reasons that led the church to follow Jesus' example. The permanent core of this tradition, in my view, is the desire to be faithful to Jesus and to his action. As we see, however, in the case of Gentile baptism, the church has never understood this faithfulness in a fundamentalist way. We have every reason today, therefore, to consider Jesus' true intention afresh. We should do this in dialogue with one another, certainly -- but, more importantly, in dialogue with the Holy Spirit.

 

The Christian Churches’ Response to the Principalities and Powers

The Christian church has not dealt seriously according to Biblical standard, with the violence and destruction brought by the principalities and powers. By and large, the churches have lived by adapting themselves to the reality of the power rather than transforming it. The churches has sought to live in a friendly political atmosphere rather than in hostile political circumstances, and its history demonstrates this. The relation of church to state has been that of accommodation in most cases. Whether it was Papalism or Josephism, Luther's two kingdoms doctrine the calvinist doctrine of separation of church and state, or the covenant tradition, the basic political framework of the relation between church and state has been that of Christendom. Even in the context of secularization of the state the church's relation to the state has not been changed in any fundamental way in the West.

But the churches' relation to the political powers of the state in communist states and in the non-Christian West, especially in third world countries in Asia and Africa, is of a completely different nature. The traditional teachings of both Western and Eastern churches have provided no help to third world churches in dealing with the political powers in their respective situations. Their churches exist not in the context of Christendom but in a "hostile" environment. Churches in the third world have found themselves in the religious and cultural minority among a wide variety of cultures and religions.

The question of the relation of the churches to the political power is not merely that of the tolerance of religious freedom, but is the very question of the mission and witness of the church to the Gospel in the context of the political power realities. This question has been grossly neglected in our theological thinking, but it is a particularly urgent task for the churches to deal with, given the reality and nature of the modern political powers now dominating the peoples of the world.

Although there are great Christian thinkers on politics and powers such as Augustine and Reinhold Niebuhr, they have developed their political thinking in the context of the "pro-Christian" political situation where the political power was not hostile to the Christian church as such. This political context is remarkably different from that of the New Testament and the early church, where the political power was diametrically opposed to the church and even to Jesus Christ, who was crucified by the power of the Roman Empire.

The history of ecumenical social thought has not seriously treated the question of totalitarian and revolutionary powers; it has only reacted to it. Whether it was Nazi or Communist totalitarian power,

colonial or imperial power, despotic or authoritarian, militaristic or chauvinistic, the Christian church and ecumenical movement has not developed serious social thought to transform such power realities, although it has criticized them generally on the basis of the liberal political philosophy to which Christianity has been too accustomed.

There has been a tradition of political resistance since the beginning of church history. Martyrdom in the early churches as well as in the contemporary churches has provided signs of a political witness against tyranny and totalitarian dictatorships. The martyrdom of Dietrich Bonhoeffer and the heritage of the confessing churches under Nazi Germany is much celebrated. The Barmen Declaration is manifestly a political confession. The incidents of martyrdom of many Christians under the authoritarian powers of the third world are expressions of political resistance. Persons such as Rev. Chu Ki Ch'ol, under the Japanese colonial regime, witnessed to the Gospel in extreme political situations. Bishop Romero of El Salvador is another contemporary martyr, who had given political witness for human rights. However, this heretages of political witness are regarded as something extraordinary, and therefore, they have had no general implications for the political life of the people.  


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Civil Society: Unity and Oikos (the House of God)

An Opening Word

 The ecumenical movement, which is the movement of the people of God in the inhabited earth, is in a rapid transition to a radically new world. We are experiencing great trends that change the present world into a radically different world. And yet we do not have a definitive analytical grasp of these trends and changes of the world today. Yet we have to keep trying to discern even the signs of times, as we live and move together in this world.

 It is proposed that the framework of civil society, whatever its precise definition may be, is to be considered a way to open a new horizon for ecumenical social thought and involvement from our Christian faith perspective. The ecumenical social thought in this century has also been in transition from the context of the liberal society, to the challenge of the socialist society and, then, to the Cold War context, and then to the post-Cold War situation. The ecumenical movement articulated as social middle axiom the idea of free society, the idea of responsible society, and the idea of just, participatory, and sustainable society, and then the idea of justice, peace and integrity of creation throughout its recent history. These ideas have values even today and yet they have to be interpreted in a radically new way in this new global situation.

 Breakdown of modern secular social philosophies and sciences and political ideologies as well as traditional social thoughts opens doors to a great confusion of social thought; and at the same time it opens a new era of creative and active social thinking in the ecumenical movements as well as social movements in the world. This demands fresh initiatives for social thinking in the ecumenical movement.

 Signs of Times: Trends and Changes in the Globe.

 "And he taught, and said to them, "Is it not written, `My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations'? But you have made it a den of robbers(Mar 11:17)."

 1. The world has become one global market. The life on earth, human and natural, are condemned to the global market. There is no realistic option for life outside of the market, whatever the market is and however it operates. When there was a option for socialism, this was not the situation. Practically the market has become an absolute reality, although some thinks it is not the case, at least, in theoretical terms. This global marketization has a profound implication for the whole life on earth.

 2. The geo-political change has brought about the interconnecting fusion of the local, national, global and cosmic(natural) horizons by the globalization of the market. The horizon of the market is not in one dimensional; but any subject, individual person or a community or corporate entity in the market must come with the multi-dimensionally fused horizons of the geo-politics of life. One must think locally, nationally and globally; and one must act in geo-politcally fused horizons in a simultaneous way. This means that a local action will have effects not only on the local level, but also on national, global and natural(cosmic) levels. This also means issues of life and relations among the people, groups and communities implies the fused horizons in all the levels.

 3. All problems and issues of life in the globalized market are inter-connected in all dimensions. The natural, economic, social, political, cultural and religious dimensions were analytically distinguished, differentiated and even fragmented; and they are compartmentalized not only on analytical level but also on the concrete practically level. Thus the life has been treated in a fragmented way in the past and till the present. Or the life has been reduced to one dimension, the material or spiritual, disregarding all other dimensions or subjugating them to one dimension, and organizing them hierarchically with a single dimension on the top, whether it is spiritual or material.

 4. The socio-political relations in the globalized market are not merely structural but dynamically relational; and, therefore, contradictions, and conflicts in the global market are dynamically relational. The struggles, negotiations and cooperation, even solidarity characterize the power relations across classes, castes, races, genders and all other contradictory camps among the people, groups, communities and ecosystems.

5. The electronic information and communication process and order plays a decisive role in the market, subjugating the subjective agency of life on all levels and dimensions. The hi-tech multimedia communication and processing of information is and will be dominant feature of the global market. It will form a value-added network of communication and information to enforce and accelerate the market dynamics among the life of the people. This is what is new in the post-industrial global market. Particularly human subjectivity is deeply effected as the participatory agency of life in all its dimensions.

 6. The symbiotic centers of such power nexus have substantially shifted from the nation state structures to the global corporate entities. The life, the people, and their communities are deeply effected by this shift. The "civil society" as a form of participatory democracy is a framework in which the life, the people and their communities directly participate and multilaterally and multi-dimensionally form solidarity linkages to make creative interventions in the global market process.

 The Victims Tell the Reality of the Global Market

 1. The life that is victimized as the garden and oasis of life is being turned into a jungle and desert of destroying life. The vitality of life and the power of death are in a bitter contest in the global marketization process.

 The fundamental contradiction between the society and the nature that is implied in the modern industrial culture and society is being intensified in the global market, that is dominated by fiercely competing corporate agencies. The natural life and the cultural(spiritual) life will be dominated by the vortex of the global market and their relations will be in dire confrontation in such a way that the natural life will be victimized by market-dominated economic and cultural artificiality and arbitrariness. Hitherto the Western industrial culture has dictated the relation between the life in the nature and life in the human society, be it capitalist or socialist society. Now the dynamics of the global market will dominate the relation between the natural life and the life in the human society. The culture of the globalized market is not life-preserving or life-enhancing, for the limitless competition would engender the logic of the survival of the fittest and the strongest. The market will allow the winners to dominate the losers. Thus, the life will ultimately be the loser, for the life will loose the spiritual foundation as well as the natural base due to the arbitrary contradiction between the natural and the spiritual, imposed by the global market. This is a negative dimension of the global marketization; and there seems to be lacking any strong trends to control or balance this trend in the current global situation.

 2. The economic victimization of the people, - the Minjung, the communities and consumers, -in the global market, will be absolute and limitless; and the mamonism of economic power of the giant corporate entities will dominate the life in the global market. The global financial corporate powers will be key players in the process. Financial victimization of the people will be noise-less, bloodless and yet extremely effective. The money power is and will be truly mammonic. The natural life and human persons and communities will be powerless economic losers in the globally competitive market. The hungry, the poor and even not-so-poor middle class people, together with relatively weak economic agencies, will be victimized in this globalized market.

 The national economic security net of self-reliance and protection, whatever there is, is rapidly eroded in the name of open market. Thus the weak economic agencies in every nation are exposed to the market plays of globally powerful economic agencies. The traditional communities have likewise become vulnerable due to the pressures of the global market forces. This economic victimization process has truly become global nexus of the economic power that destroys the life everywhere. Hunger, impoverishment, and wasteful consumerism are a few forms of life destruction and victimization. The irony and paradox if this process of victimization will take place in the midst of global economic growth and technological advancement.

 It is in this global context that the people takes initiatives for economic justice, for direct participation and intervention in the market process, and for economic actions for sustainable life.

 3. The public or common social security of the peoples' life is being dismantled and subjugated to the jungle of the globalized market; and the people will be exposed to economic, social, political, cultural and spiritual violence that are fundamentally caused by the global market process. The life will not be secure in this global market; and it is vulnerable to the violent conflicts and confrontations in the midst of limitless competitions of the globalized market. This violent process is permeating every aspect of relations between and among international and political powers, social classes and cultural groups, national and ethic groups, and caste and religious communities. Peace for life on all levels lost its foundations and no way of peaceful resolution of conflicts and disputes among struggling parties is easily found.

 There has been a tendency that the peace question has been reduced merely to the question of the reduction or elimination of violent military confrontations among nation states and political groups; but now it is the question of securing for the common life of all living things on earth. The questions of peace and security over against violence are to be understood on economic, cultural and spiritual levels as well as on social and political levels.

 4. The life contains the politically living subject as its core. It cannot be reduced as a passive object. The global market with "neo-liberal" developments have weakened liberal democratic subjecthood for individual persons, powerless groups, such as racial and ethnic minorities, local communities. The people as participating agents in the political process are exposed to the syndrome of apathy, hopelessness, and de-capacitation, and the global market weakens the national democratic states.

 Even the nation states, as modern political units, democratic or not, have been substantially weakened, if not being dismantled. The political victimization is not merely suppression of the political subjecthood of the people, but the participatory process has been weakened by the play of the power on the global level, weakening any national and community protections of political subjecthood.

5. The global market process is very much dictated by the cultural process of communication and information through hi-tech multimedia. The victimization of life is being advanced culturally on levels of spirituality, consciousness, perceptions, and senses. The hi-tech multimedia, dictated by the corporate powers and agencies of the global market, subjugate cultural subjecthood, cultural values, style of life, perceptions of beauty, and religious mystery in life, as well as ethnic, national identities of persons and community to the market wasteland of cultural life. The arena of consciousness, perceptions and senses of life is indeed the battle ground between forces of life and forces of victimization of life. This is indeed a "cultural war" The exploitation of post-modernistic sensibilities, especially emerging among the young generations, by the market, is a good illustration.

 The global market powers will battle against religious communities and spiritual powers of the people, by sapping their spiritual strength. The global market will spiritual wilderness and wasteland, where the soul and spirit of the people will be broken, and the people will loose the spiritual sources for life. This is indeed a dire spiritual victimization. Religious revivals and emergence of new religions must be seen in this context of spiritual victimization of the people.

 Life Resists and Struggles against the Victimization, seen theologically.

 1. The life is not passive objects; it lives vitally and resists against forces of life-destroying. The life in the cosmic nature is alive(Loverock). The Spirit and spiritual subjectivity is the core around which the life and living is organized. The humans organize their gardens of life in the household, in the community and in the eco-system.

 The Spirit of God is the source and sustaining power of life; the Resurrection of Christ over the power of death is the God's guarantee for the life, in destructible, eternal and full. The eschatological vision of the Garden of Life is the promise and hope for the life on earth. This is the OIKOS of GOD that gives, sustains and fulfills life. What this means if that the life in the ecosystem is not merely naturalistic or biological reality; but it is spiritually and culturally based reality.

 2. The people's basic livelihood is organized in the family household, in the local communities, with national and global interconnections. Traditional economic wisdom of the peoples and communities and various religious insights on the economic life; Islamic, Jewish, Confucian, Buddhist and Christian traditions have rich economic wisdom for the life of the people and community, that are resources for the people to organize their economic living against the global market forces that victimize life.

 This is the OIKONOMIA TOU THEOU, the political economy of God, that is spelled out in the biblical stories of the Exodus, the Covenant(Sabbath), the Jubilee, the Creation and the New Heaven and New Earth. For example, the economic manifesto of Jesus in the 6th chapter of Matthew spells out the political economy of God for the life.

 3. The security of life is based upon the peace in all relations. The people seek to live overcoming contradictions and violent conflicts among the nature, human groups and powers. The life and the people generate wisdom for peace and security in the very vortex of conflicts and victimization that destroy life. The resources for life, human and socio-economic and political security are being mobilized among the people who are actively seeking to make peace and security for life and people. For example, the Confucian teaching of POKUK ANMIN is a very relevant for the peace and security for life and community.

 The biblical vision of Shalom is very appropriate in this connection. The Christ as the Lamb of peace as well as the vision of Shalom in Isaiah 11 and Ezekiel 37 and Revelations 21 and 22 gives a powerful dynamics of peace in the ecumenical movement.

 "The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid, and the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall feed; their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. The sucking child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the adder's den. They shall not hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea. And I will put my Spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you in your own land; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken, and I have done it, says the Lord.(ISAIAH 11:6-14)"

 4. The life and people refuses to be condemned to the passive objects in the market. Resistance of life and people against oppression has been the mark and sign of times. Direct intervention and participation of the people and citizens in the CIVIL SOCIETY is the hall mark of this movement. A new direct and participatory political agency of life and people in local, national and global interconnectedness is being raised and formed everywhere in the world. This is signs for the very foundation of hope for life and people.

 The life, nations, and people are co-workers, participants and members of the household of God. They are covenant partners of God. They are subjects who live and work with God in the management of the political economy of God. The life of national people(MINJOK) has a special significance in the household of God, Minjok is the basic unit of the people of God in the biblical stories. This is most clear in the Gospel according to Matthew.

 5. The feast and celebration gives the people the spirit, vitality and power of life. The religio-cultural traditions of the peoples all around the world are sources of life, giving identity, values, styles of life, perceptions and senses. This is the beginning of the cultural resistance and struggle for survival in the global cultural war. Feast and celebration of and for life in Asian religious communities provide fountains of strength and vitality of cultural fulfillment of life, although much of life-stifling and life-suppressing factors should be eliminated from the traditional religious institutions.

 The act of the people of God as religious community reaches its supreme moment in worship, glorifying God and in celebration of life, enjoying it. The glorious and celebrating liturgical life of the people of God in the OIKOS TOU THEOU(in the house of God) provides the fountain source of cultural vitality for the life and the people, who are victimized in the global cultural market place.

 ONE IN OIKOS TOU THEOU(the House of God)

 ONE and its being and nature, and how to be ONE has been the ecumenical agenda in the world, that is divided, full of contradictions and conflicts, destroying life and people. In the present global marketization, as we have indicated in the above, ONE should be understood in a new way, in a dynamic way and in an open-ended way. Our Biblical and theological references and concepts must be understood in a new way as well.

 1. The framework of being ONE.

We have already indicated that the life and the people are in the OIKOS TOU THEOU(the Household of God), which may be termed as the POLITICAL ECONOMY OF GOD. Biblical references of the Household of God is dual, one referring to the spiritual; and the other referring to the comprehensive political economy of God for the whole people of God. We should recognize the close connection and unity between the two; and in fact, the household of God includes the life and the whole people of God in all dimensions.

 The HOUSEHOLD OF GOD is the concrete form of covenant of God with his creation(the life and the people). God's covenant with the created world of life is the heart where ONE become reality. May I begin with the following biblical references:

 But now that faith has come, we are no longer under a custodian; for in Christ Jesus you are all sons of God, through faith. For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus. And if you are Christ's, then you are Abraham's offspring, heirs according to promise. (Galatians 3: 25-29)

 Therefore remember that at one time you Gentiles in the flesh, called the uncircumcision by what is called the circumcision, which is made in the flesh by hands - remember that you were at that time separated from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near in the blood of Christ.(Ephesians 2:11-13)

 Here we discern two sets of relationships: 1. Being ONE in Christ involves ONE across national, racial and ethnic contradictions, socio-economic(class, or caste etc.) contradictions, gender contradictions, political contradictions)powerful Vs the powerless), contradictions between the wise and the foolish and so on. The formula is ONE of NEITHER - NOR. 2. Being ONE in Christ involves ONE BODY, ONE LIVING SUBJECT, that integrates life, refusing to be fragmented in any terms. This is a new meaning of covenant network of the people of God in the political economy of God over against the political economy of the imperial powers.

 Let us take an illustration. When this covenant of peace and life is applied to the Korean situation as an example, the message of Ezekiel become very much alive.

 . The word of the Lord came to me: "Son of man, take a stick and write on it, `For Judah, and the children of Israel associated with him'; then take another stick and write upon it, `For Joseph (the stick of Ephraim) and all the house of Israel associated with him'; and join them together into one stick, that they may become one in your hand. And when your people say to you, `Will you not show us what you mean by these?' say to them, Thus says the Lord God: Behold, I am about to take the stick of Joseph (which is in the hand of Ephraim) and the tribes of Israel associated with him; and I will join with it the stick of Judah, and make them one stick, that they may be one in my hand. When the sticks on which you write are in your hand before their eyes, then say to them, Thus says the Lord God: Behold, I will take the people of Israel from the nations among which they have gone, and will gather them from all sides, and bring them to their own land; and I will make them one nation in the land, upon the mountains of Israel; and one king shall be king over them all; and they shall be no longer two nations, and no longer divided into two kingdoms. "My servant David shall be king over them; and they shall all have one shepherd. They shall follow my ordinances and be careful to observe my statutes. They shall dwell in the land where your fathers dwelt that I gave to my servant Jacob; they and their children and their children's children shall dwell there for ever; and David my servant shall be their prince for ever. I will make a covenant of peace with them; it shall be an everlasting covenant with them; and I will bless them and multiply them, and will set my sanctuary in the midst of them for evermore. My dwelling place shall be with them; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. Then the nations will know that I the Lord sanctify Israel, when my sanctuary is in the midst of them for evermore.(Ezkiel 37: 15-28)

 The prophetic vision and imagination of the covenant of ONE is also unmistakable for the people of God, seen in the eyes of Jeremiah.

 The Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah, not like the covenant which I made with their fathers when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt, my covenant which they broke, though I was their husband, says the Lord. But this is the covenant which I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the Lord: I will put my law within them, and I will write it upon their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. And no longer shall each man teach his neighbor and each his brother, saying, `Know the Lord,' for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the Lord; for I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more."(Jeremiah 31: 31-34)

 The decisive pronouncement has been made by Paul for the ecumenical church: "But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near in the blood of Christ. For he is our peace, who has made us both one, and has broken down the dividing wall of hostility, by abolishing in his flesh the law of commandments and ordinances, that he might create in himself one new man in place of the two, so making peace, and might reconcile us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby bringing the hostility to an end. And he came and preached peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near; for through him we both have access in one Spirit to the Father. So then you are no longer strangers and sojourners, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, in whom the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built into it for a dwelling place(OIKOS) of God in the Spirit.(Ephsians 2:13ff)

 Here we suggest that the notion of Covenant Solidarity for Justice, Peace and Integrity of Creation has been an excellent starting point of departure to reflect upon ONE in the context of civil society.

 2. The life, the people and their communities are raised up as the subjects that participating in the OIKONIMIA TOU THEOU. While the principalities and powers of the world, originally ordained to serve God and God's creation, deny the subjectivity of the life, the people and their communities, Christ raises them up to be the subjects of sharing, sustaining and fulfilling the life in the political economy of God. This is the Messianic servanthood to serve all the creation, including the people of God, raising them up "as subjects who participate in the BASILESIA KAI OIKONOMIA TOU THEOU. The Christological confession and its concomitant ecclesiology(Church order) reflects the political economy of God, which is the reverse of the Roman imperial order.

 Phillipians 2:5-11--Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

 Jesus the Servant Messiah is the cornerstone to build the OIKOS TOU THEOU in which all the creation will be participating subjects, of the Jesus the Servant Messiah will raise them up as stewards and mangers of life in the OIKOS TOU THEOU.

 The reign of DOULOS in OIKOS TOU THEOU is the conclusive theme in the Bible.

 If any one would be first, he must be last of all and servant of all.(Mark 9:35)

 Mark 10: 42-45-- And Jesus called them to him and said to them, "You know that those who are supposed to rule over the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great men exercise authority over them. But it shall not be so among you; but whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of man also came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many."

 Isa 53:1-11-- Who has believed what we have heard? And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed? For he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or comeliness that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that made us whole, and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all. He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth. By oppression and judgment he was taken away; and as for his generation, who considered that he was cut off out of the land of the living, stricken for the transgression of my people? And they made his grave with the wicked and with a rich man in his death, although he had done no violence, and there was no deceit in his mouth. Yet it was the will of the Lord to bruise him; he has put him to grief; when he makes himself an offering for sin, he shall see his offspring, he shall prolong his days; the will of the Lord shall prosper in his hand; he shall see the fruit of the travail of his soul and be satisfied; by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant, make many to be accounted righteous; and he shall bear their iniquities.

 The is the political economy(OIKOS) of God in which Jesus Christ has fulfilled the Servanthood to serve all, that is, to raise them as subjects of life in the global market.

 . 3. The horizon of OIKOS TOU THEOU is all inclusive, embracing all nations.

 So then you are no longer strangers and sojourners, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God( Eph 2:19).

 National peoples(Minjok) have their true identity and fulfillment of life in the OIKOS TOU THEOU. Racial, ethnic and national identities have ultimate status in the household of God. In the imperial domination or in the globalized market, the Minjok(s) will be a basic mode of life that is resistant to the forces of life destruction.

 All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the Lord; and all the families of the nations shall worship before him. For dominion belongs to the Lord, and he rules over the nations. (Psa.22: 27-8.)

 The following are some of the biblical references where the Minjok is refereed to a positive and ultimate reality in the Reign of God:

 Psa 67:1-6--May God be gracious to us and bless us and make his face to shine upon us, that thy way may be known upon earth, thy saving power among all nations. Let the peoples praise thee, O God; let all the peoples praise thee! Let the nations be glad and sing for joy, for thou dost judge the peoples with equity and guide the nations upon earth. Let the peoples praise thee, O God; let all the peoples praise thee! The earth has yielded its increase; God, our God, has blessed us.

 Gal 3:8-- And the scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, preached the gospel beforehand to Abraham, saying, "In you shall all the nations be blessed."

 Rev. 15: 4-- Who shall not fear and glorify thy name, O Lord? For thou alone art holy. All nations shall come and worship thee, for thy judgments have been revealed."

 Rev 22:1-2-- Then he showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city; also, on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month; and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.

 Matt.28:19-20--Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, to the close of the age."

 4. Spiritual Identification and Solidarity with the Victims as the Real Foundation of the OIKONOMIA TOU THEOU.

 In the Epistle to the Hebrews, Christ is seen as the priest and the lamb for the sacrificial resolution of peace between God and the people of God. This is the costly OIKONOMIA of God. "...We have a great priest over the house of God (Heb 10:21)" This theme is supremely taken in 1Pe 2:5 ... "like living stones be yourselves built into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ."

 This is the ultimate defense of life, which has been wrought through the Cross and Resurrection of Jesus the Messiah of life and shalom. In the vision of the new heaven and new earth as well as in the creation vision in the Bible, the Spirit of God is the source and foundation of life; and yet the Spirit is the very Spirit of Christ on the cross(kenosis). Here is the ultimate identification of Christ with the victimized life.

From this understanding of Christological foundation for life, one can be suspicious of the sustainable life which is seen only in naturalistic terms. It should be seen spiritual terms. The life in the nature cannot be sustained, unless it is grounded in the Spirit. This is a notion of the unity and solidarity between the religio-cultural and natural. The life in the cosmos is saved and sustained through the messianic sacrificial spirit.

 A Concluding Word

 We have explored a perspective for a new ecumenical movement as a movement of ONE in the OIKOS TOU THEOU. This was done through our efforts of discernment on the signs of times, and a renewed biblical reflection, taking the Biblical vision as the sources of our messianic imagination. It is indeed fragmentary; but it is hope that this will catalyze further ecumenical imaginations among us.

 Much communication and dialogue in our ecumenical network on all levels of globle, national societies and localities is much desired at this point. The ecumenical network may be dicisive for the victimized peoples in the globe, if we work intesively and closely for some sustained period in the several years to come.

 


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Messianic Politics: Toward a New Political Paradigm

Humankind in the 1980s faces a grave political crisis, as its very existence is threatened by the most powerful and destructive political entities in history: the totalitarian and imperialist powers. Linked up with authoritarian and military dictatorships around the world, these global powers are becoming absolute, beyond the control of any government or institution. With their weapons systems and military alliances, set up to provide absolute security from, or absolute destruction of "the enemy", they have the sophistication and power to annihilate all of humanity. The are potentially and actually "demonic", as they cruelly oppress and destroy human life in order to maintain and continuously expand their power.

These global powers include the military, the giant transnational corporations and the global information and communication industries, as well as the powerful nations themselves, which have permitted these powers to grow unchecked. The U.S., Japan and West Germany are among the countries which have allowed and even encouraged this "transnationalization" of power, against their own liberal democratic principles and in violation of basic human rights and popular sovereignty. The victims are people of all countries, but especially those in the third world. The traditional balance-of-power and parliamentary processes used to limit the excessive growth of any one power, are useless in the present global reality, where a single transnational structure can have a dominant influence over many national governments. And the escalating rivalry among the superpowers for supremacy leads to their ever stronger control over the third world nations.

In this situation the Christian faith is being tested by the political victims, who cry out for relief. For this political crisis is closely associated with the Christian civilization. Nazism rose in the Lutheran Christian civilization, and Fascism in the Catholic civilization. Modern colonialism has its origin in the Christian West. Even Communist totalitarianism was conceived in the Christian West as a reaction to the Christian civilization. Furthermore, the imperial domination of the Western powers over the third world is the source of the dire suffering of many people. The military dictatorships in third world countries are closely related to the military domination of the Western powers in the world. Of course, there are other factors in these political developments, but Christian association--historically and structurally--with such developments cannot be completely denied. It is also clear that these developments cannot be identified with the Gospel message. And since the churches and their theologies have not been able to prevent these monstrous political developments, the Christian faith is now under severe test in the political arena.

The global political powers are growing and expanding without limit. They pretentiously uphold the causes of freedom, justice and peace, while actually suppressing the very reality that they claim. Their capacity to control and manipulate and their efficiency in the use of force are beyond the imagination of the people, who are originally supposed to be controlling them.

Meanwhile, the world's most "enlightened" historical and philosophical wisdom, such as Aristotelean and modern social philosophies, and the social and political sciences, do not explain or solve the current political crisis. Rather, they undergird the rule of the dominant powers; and their ideological, scientific and analytical tools are mostly subservient to these powers and thus cannot reveal their true nature.

SOCIAL BIOGRAPHY OF THE MINJUNG

AND POLITICAL POWER

We propose to make a theological response to the question of the principalities and powers through a method that is based on the socio-biographical description (story) of the experiences of the people themselves, rather than merely on analysis of the political powers and their systems. The social biography describes the experiences of the people in a wholistic, integrated way, including the objective conditions of their life as well as their subjective experiences. This methodology rises out of the people's self-expression and self-communication of their own sufferings and hopes throughout the generations. A prime example is the Biblical approach, which reveals the nature of the power of "Babylon" through the story of the Suffering Servant in Isaiah 53, and the power of the new Babylon--the Roman Empire--through the story of Jesus the Suffering Servant. The biblical literature is a social biography of the people of God.

The only way to reveal the true nature of power is through the cries and the stories of the oppressed people who are the victims of that power; and from our point of view, another way, connected with the first, is a theological perspective that can show the true reality of power in the world today. This means that the religious resources of the suffering people also can be useful in discerning the nature of power in the contemporary world, provided that these resources can be brought to bear upon the present political realities of the great powers and their nexus of power relationships. Throughout history, religious resources have been used by the powers to justify their own existence, maintenance and expansion. But religious resources must be seen in the light of the sufferings of the oppressed people who are the victims of the powerful. The intertwining and correlating of the stories of the people and the religious resourcs--in our case, the stories of the Bible and the religious perceptions of the people--will reveal the nature of the political powers.

The so-called scientific analysis of political power often misses the true reality of the powers, present and past. Political analysis has never been able to expose the true nature of the power realities. The political and social sciences have been tools of the political and social elites and the ruling powers to undergird the strategies and tactics of the power game aimed at dominating and oppressing the people and the opposition powers. Our contention is that the story of the oppressed people as the victims of power reveals the true nature of power.

The same applies to the interpretation of the Bible.

Historical reason has not clarified the experiences of the people of God in the Bible, just as metaphysical reason has not clarified but rather dogmatized the biblical stories. Socio-economic analytical reason, as scientific reason, has clarified the socio-economic political background of the powers in biblical history, but has not clarified the experiences of the people of God as they experienced the power realities in relation to their God.

Scientific analysis, structural or otherwise, of political power is useful as long as it reveals the nature and mode of operation of that power in the light of the experiences of the people who are oppressed and victimized by it. Analytical knowledge cannot replace the experiences of the people in history and in the Bible; it can only serve to clarifiy the objective dimension of the experiences and help to clarify the story of the people.

The Korean people have experienced two kinds of totalitarianism: the Japanese colonial power--an ultra-nationalist militarism--and the communist totalatarian power. In the past they suffered under a Confucian despotic monarchy; and today they experience the modern imperialism of the superpowers.

At present, in the South, the people live under a military dictatorship and in the North under a proletarian dictatorship, both "sponsored by imperial domination.(The establishment of the proletarian dictatorship in the North is exogenous rather than endogenous in its origin and development, although the juch'e idea has been developed to cope with the influence from the outside.) Not only the Korean people but people all over the world are caught up in systems dominated by imperial, totalitarian and dictatorial powers. (Hannah Arendt, Totalitarianism, New York: H.B. Janovich, 1973.)

The story of the jongshindae: a paradigm of the political victim The story of the jongshindae exposes the real character of the colonial-imperial power of ultra-nationalist, militarist pre-War Japan, which ruled over Korea during the first half of this century. During World War II many young Korean girls were forced to serve as official prostitutes for the Japanese soldiers on the battlefields. In this process they experienced the ravaging of their bodies, and even if they survived this, their humiliation prevented them from ever returning home.

The first recruiting of prostitutes for the Japanese army was among women from the "red light districts" in Japan. Since the majority of these women had VD, however, and since very few wanted to work for the soldiers, young, healthy Korean women were then forced into service. The colonial authorities tricked Korean women from farming regions, offering them "a chance at easy labor" such as washing army uniforms or working in factories. These verbal enticements being mostly unsuccessful, finally the Japanese colonial power began forcing poor, unmarried women into military prostitution. The numbers of these women increased rapidly during the Pacific War; from 1942, over 100,000 women were known to have been forced into such prostitution. A graphic description of these women's experience was given at a conference of the Korean Association of Women Theologians:

According to one victim's testimony, they had to eat rice balls brought by a managing soldier while other soldiers were on top of them. They were even forced to wash themselves while lying in bed. Even though their lower parts were infected and swollen, they were forced to continue working. During air raids, they were made to service soldiers in air raid shelters. During one day, 10 women would service a total of 3,000 soldiers, who would wait in lines up to 3 kilometers long. When Japanese defeat was certain, the soldiers treated the women more brutally, forcing them to continue as prostitutes at the front lines. Most of these women died from starvation or other illnesses at the front. Moreover, the Japanese soldiers often killed these women with machine guns, particularly during battles. The story of the A-bomb victims

Another story, that of the Korean A-bomb victims, reveals the demonic destructiveness of the modern powers with their military mega-mechines. The historical reality of the Hiroshima holocaust can be deeply probed through the stories of the truly innocent Korean A-bomb victims, who numbered more than 100,000. (Nobody knows the exact number.) Many of these persons were dragged from the peaceful rural villages of Korea and taken to Hiroshima and Nagasaki, where they were put to work in military production. They underwent immense suffering in the inhuman work places and in the city slums. They endured discrimination, subjugation and humiliation as Chosenjin (Korean Niggers). And, of all the victims of the A-bomb explosion, they suffered the most, for they were the last to be evacuated and treated after the explosion, following evacuation of the Japanese victims.

Upon the surrender of Japan, the U.S. military government designated all Koreans in Japan as "people in a special category", which prevented them from claiming any compensation for damages and injuries they had suffered in Japan. It thus came to pass that these victims were abandoned by both the victorious and the defeated parties in the war. After their repatriation to Korea, they continued to suffer, from their wounds and from radiation diseases, from discrimination by their own people due to their diseases, and from the negligence and maltreatment of their home government. No one else can imagine their sufferings; even the victims themselves refuse to recollect their horrible experiences. These Korean victims of the A-bomb and their stories reveal the real nature of nuclear destruction, then and now.

Through my contacts with Church Women United in Korea, which is the support community for the Korean A-bomb victims, I began to realize the importance of their experience for the debate on the issues of peace and justice. These victims provide us with the real impetus and insight needed for our commitment to peace-making. The A-bomb victims--the Minjung of this history--become not only the subject of historical perception, but the visionaries of a new history of justice and peace, and the protagonists in this historical project.

The people of third world nations share similar experiences of turmoil under various kinds of domination: traditional authoritarianism, colonial domination, nationalist power, militarism and various forms of total domination. The stories of people's experiences under such domination are complex and difficult to tell. But all are stories of suffering, which reveal the real nature of the powers.

The Story of the Disappeared is a contemporary parable of the suffering of oppressed people, exposing the nature of political power. This power regards its own citizens as the enemy, simply because they regard it as unjust and oppose it. Many citizens are executed by paramilitary or vigilante groups, their very life and dignity as human beings denied by the power-holders. Such cases are rampant in many third world countries such as the Philippines and pre-Alfonsin Argentina. (CCIA and Amnesty International publications on Argentina and the Philippines testify to this reality of disappearance and "salvaging". See Disappeared! A Report for the Independent Commission on International Humanitarian Issues, Hong Kong, 1986.)

The story of the South African Black person reveals the character of the political power of the modern state, based upon racism, military power, and ideological use of religion (Christianity). It exposes the nature of the international support of apartheid by the Western powers, which share the role of domination, not only through their historical connections but also through their relationships of economic, military and political support. (The Kairos Document and Evangelical Witness in South Africa, and PCR publications give a Christian response to the reality of the apartheid system and its cruelty.)

TECHNOCRACY AND THE POWERS

Today when we deal with the historical issues of peoples and powers, we are dealing with the question of the comprehensive penetration and impact of technocratic power into the nations of the third world as well as the first and second world. The problem is the penetration of the technocratic system, which envelops the life of the people with its inherent rationality. Whereas the national economic system is capitalist or socialist, it is a technocratic system which plans the economy and executes the plan, mobilizing capital, production, marketing, distribution, and so on. The state bureacracy is run by the technocrats. The national security system, i.e., police and military, is a technocratic organization, as is the communication and information apparatus. Likewise, in the third world the politics of development and national security have actually been the politics of technocracy and the technocratic elite.

What is technocracy? It is a political concept, not a technical notion. Technocracy is that system of government in which the entire society, or its major dominant sector, is controlled by an elite who systematically apply science and technology in solving economic problems, creating political processes and ordering society. This was one of the key factors in the industrialization of Western nations: the use of the modern science of technology went beyond the economic field, reaching the fields of military armaments and communication, and these played a crucial role in the political and cultural processes. Now the global political economy, both socialist and capitalist, is dominated by "technocracy". (See Langdon Winner, Autonomous Technology: Technics-out-of-Control as a Theme in Political Thought, The MIT Press, 1977.)

Technocracy has four components: political, military, economic and cultural. The political component is the so-called modernizing elite. The military in third world nations, as well as in the West and the East, is organized and equipped in an increasingly technocratic manner. The corporations, particularly multinational corporations, have become the dominant component of the technocracy by their ownership and control of technology. Information and communication systems, including educational systems, have become an integral part of the technocratic complex. All these components are inseparably interrelated, and interact with each other to create a fierce historical dynamic in world history today.

While the rhetoric of development was previously used by the political elite in third world societies, this group has now been replaced by the technocratic elite, which is committed to the systematic employment of the fruits of modern Western technology in the field of economic development. In the absence of the former political elite, the military is now most favored to take over the role of technocratic elite for economic modernization, in the context of the Cold War military objectives. In this process, technocracy has meant the organization of the military as the most efficient agency to impose violence upon the enemy, in both quantity and sophistication.

As the military takes command of the politics of economic development, the political process is bound to be both "technocratized and militarized", inherently interlocking the military and Western technocracy to the highest degree, i.e., through the multinational corporations. When the giant Western corporations, equipped with the most sophisticated technology and massive economic and financial resources, come to the third world nations, they deal with the commanders of economic development, that is, the military-technocratic power elite. These elite power groups in Asian nations move to eliminate all the budding and "feeble" democratic processes in the name of economic modernization and national security, as the inevitable cost of economic growth. This is translated into massive political repression, rampant in the third world today. Such action by military or dictatorial regimes against their own people is certainly an internationalization of the national security ideology. Instead of being aimed at an external enemy, military violence is directed against a nation's own people in the name of combatting "communist" subversion.

The present world problems are intricately related to this question of political power. It is a common assumption that the human race cannot survive without some sort of political power. But power has given only troubles to humanity. The instrumental and pragmatic view of power is too optimistic to deal with the reality of power. It must be reassessed in the light of the biblical teachings and in the light of the political experiences of the people. Political realism of any sort, whether secular or religious, must be questioned, just as the doctrine of just war and power as a necessary evil must be re-examined.

The Nature of Power Today

The human race has faced the perennial problem of the power reality throughout the ages. From ancient times, authoritarian despotism and imperial powers dominated humankind; and in modern times, fascist powers, totalitarian powers, authoritarian powers, military dictatorships, technocratic powers and capitalist powers with a liberal facade dominate the peoples of the world. Powers such as the Soviet and American "super-states" have achieved mighty influence over the world, with an imperialist tinge.

The powers-that-be in modern times are not a natural phenomenon of political life, but a demonic distortion of human reality. The ideologies they use to justify themselves are absolutistic; and the means by which they exercise their power are brutal and destructive, characterized by the use of secret police and intelligence organizations. Their powers are uncontrolled except by their own will and logic, and therefore tend toward unlimited expansion.

Traditionally, religions, myths and philosophies played an ideological role for the dominant powers. In modern times, it is totalitarian ideologies such as national socialism (Nazism), communism, capitalism, liberalism, nationalism, militarism, and various combinations of these "isms" that play this role.

The organization of modern political power is so far-reaching that it encompasses virtually the entire life of the people, including their inner spiritual and psychological experiences. It has functionally efficient mechanisms to deal with whatever powers might oppose it, legitimately or illegimately, internally or externally. Its scope is no longer limited to specific geographical confines, but is universal and global, beyond national and even continental boundaries.

Throughout the ages, power organization in terms of the administration of authority, economic production, social relations and military mobilization has been crucial for the expansion and maintenance of monarchic and imperial power. The Roman military and administrative organizations were the foundation of Roman imperial power. Chinese civil bureaucracy was the base of Chinese imperial power.

Modern power is equipped with sophisticated and efficient science and technology to manage its tasks, ranging from economic planning to the building of security apparatuses. The military powers of the super-states are global and even extra-terrestial, preparing for military combat in space. Modern wars are designed as total wars, mobilizing and integrating every aspect of human society into the war machine, which is made to destroy the totality of the "enemy people".

Modern power is based upon the combined total strength of the national and global economies. The strength of the world's economic systems, socialist, capitalist and otherwise, provides the foundation from which the dominant powers seek to monopolize the world's resources. Modern power is comprehensive, drawing together the components of military organization, economic corpus and government bureaucracy; and these in turn are linked with science and technology to constitute the technocracy.

Modern power furthermore handles enormous amounts of information through a network designed to control the people. Sophisticated information technology is integrated with the power apparatus, and propaganda is replaced by public communications strategy. The communication apparatus is used universally to justify the actions of the power, manipulating and distorting facts and information and boosting arguments for the "legitimizing" of power.

Power is inherently self-righteous in its judgments of just and unjust, good and evil, order and disorder. These judgments are expressed by legal, philosophical, conventional and institutional means. Power seeks to be justified in ideological terms, and sometimes in religious terms. The justice, peace and order that the dominant power seeks to maintain is not universal justice, peace and order for the people, but for its own benefit. From the people's point of view and experience, such order consists, on the contrary, of injustice, disorder and institutionalized violence.

Power is an ever-expanding, unstable dynamic which constantly seeks to control other power centers through the process of integration and domination. It seeks incessantly to overcome the balance of power, for it is inherently insecure and unstable so long as there is another center of power challenging its existence.

Power is also ever-smart in mobilizing and monopolizing science and technology for its ever more efficient modes of operation. There are no limits to its use of technology for production of military weapons to conquer the enemy and for enhanced economic production to dominate nature. In the name of security and prosperity, power seeks to be almighty. The victims of war and exploitation know the reality of this power. The people themselves have no access to the process of science and technology.

Thus, the peace, security, justice and freedom that the powers claim to be securing and maintaining for the people is a BIG LIE, as seen from the experiences of the oppressed people, who are victims of the violence of power in the societies of the third world. This big lie is used to suppress the basic human rights and existence of the people.

CHRISTIAN CHURCHES' RESPONSE TO

THE PRINCIPALITIES AND POWERS

The Christian church has not dealt seriously, according to Biblical standards, with the violence and destruction wrought by the principalities and powers. By and large, the churches have lived by adapting themselves to the reality of the power rather than by transforming it. As demonstrated by its history, the church has sought to live in a friendly political atmosphere rather than in hostile political circumstances. The relation of church to state has been that of accommodation in most cases. Whether it was Papalism or Josephism, Luther's two kingdoms doctrine, the Calvinist doctrine of separation of church and state, or the covenant tradition, the basic political framework of the relation between church and state has been that of Christendom. Even in the context of secularization of the state, the church's relation to the state has not been changed in any fundamental way in the West.

But the churches' relation to the political powers of the state in communist states and in the non-Christian West, especially in third world countries in Asia and Africa, is of a completely different nature. The traditional teachings of both Western and Eastern churches have provided no help to third world churches in dealing with the political powers in their respective situations. Their churches exist not in the context of Christendom but in a "hostile" environment. Churches in the third world have found themselves in the religious and cultural minority among a wide variety of cultures and religions.

The question of the relation of the churches to the political power is not merely that of the tolerance of religious freedom, but is the very question of the mission and witness of the church to the Gospel in the context of the political power realities. This question has been grossly neglected in our theological thinking, but it is a particularly urgent task for the churches to deal with, given the reality and nature of the modern political powers now dominating the peoples of the world.

Although there are great Christian thinkers on politics and powers such as Augustine and Reinhold Niebuhr, they have developed their political thinking in the context of the "pro-Christian" political situation where the political power was not hostile to the Christian church as such. This political context is remarkably different from that of the New Testament and the early church, where the political power was diametrically opposed to the church and even to Jesus Christ, who was crucified by the power of the Roman Empire.

The history of ecumenical social thought has not seriously treated the question of totalitarian and revolutionary powers; it has only reacted to it. Whether it was Nazi or Communist totalitarian power, colonial or imperial power, despotic or authoritarian, militaristic or chauvinistic, the Christian church--including the ecumenical movement--has not developed serious social thought to transform such power realities, although it has criticized them generally on the basis of the liberal political philosophy to which Christianity has been too accustomed. (Jose Miguez Bonino, Christian Political Ethics, Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1983.)

There has been a tradition of political resistance since the beginning of church history. Martyrdom in the early churches as well as in the contemporary churches has provided signs of political witness against tyranny and totalitarian dictatorship. One celebrated example is the martyrdom of Dietrich Bonhoeffer and the heritage of the confessing churches under Nazi Germany, including the Barmen Declaration, which is manifestly a political confession. Many incidents of Christian martyrdom under the authoritarian regimes of the third world have been expressions of political resistance, such as Rev. Chu Ki Ch'ol's witness to the Gospel under the Japanese colonial regime, and El Salvadoran Bishop Romero's political witness for human rights. This heritage of political witness is regarded as something extraordinary, however, and therefore, has had no generalized implications for the political life of the people.

BIBLICAL FOUNDATIONS

We find the most penetrating understanding of power and politics in biblical literature. Thus far we have tended to suppress the biblical passages that radically expose the reality of power, such as Revelation 13, and remained preoccupied with Romans 13, which has often been misinterpreted.

There are three levels of power reality in the Bible: One is the imperial powers, second is the power of kings in the history of Israel, and third is the politics of the Messiah and politics of God (the Kingdom of Messiah and the Kingdom of God) among the people of God. The Sovereign Rule of God is an overarching theme of the Bible from beginning to end; and the imperial powers of the surrounding empires, from Egypt and Babylon to Greece and Rome, are placed in the context of the sovereignty of God. The powers of the kings in the history of the people of Israel was also set in the context of the Reign of God.

The people of Israel experienced the imperial power of the great empires as well as the rule of kings. In the midst of their political experience of oppression and exile under these powers, they struggled to keep their faith in the Sovereignty of God. The political vision of the people of God emerged in the form of prophetic movement, priestly movement and messianic movement.

Despotic Monarchy and Sovereignty of God

The establishment of monarchy in the life of the people of Israel was an ambiguous project, for its relationship with the Sovereignty of God could not be clearly spelled out and the only model of monarchy available was that of despotic rule, which was already established among the peoples surrounding Israel. The covenant community of the tribal people of Israel needed security against the powers of the despotic kingdoms that threatened Israel militarily, as is recorded in Judges; but at the same time the establishment of a monarchy modelled after despotic rule or modified despotic rule subverted the very essence of the covenant community.

This is the reason why Samuel in principle opposed the establishment of a monarchy in Israel, for it would enslave the people, God's covenant would be broken, and the security and rights of the people would be violated.In God's Covenant with the people, the Sovereignty of God entails the sovereign rights of the people, which God has ordained, and which the kingdoms and empires are to protect.It is in this light that the kingship of David, the monarchy and the empires must be judged. This means that the Davidic kingship was understood as permissible only as he was the servant king of Yahweh, and as his kingship consisted of service to God and to the sovereign rights of the people. This is called the Davidic Covenant. The Davidic kingship was permissible only in the framework of God's Covenant with the people of God.

We quote here the full text of objections as it appears in I Samuel 8:10-18.

All that Yahweh had said, Samuel repeated to the people who were asking him for a king. He said, "These will be the rights of the king who is to reign over you. He shall take your sons and assign them to his chariotry and cavalry, and they will run in front his chariot. He will use them as leaders of a thousand and leaders of fifty; he will make them plow his plowland and harvest his harvest and make his weapons of war and the gear for his chariots. He will also take your daughters as perfumers, cooks and bakers. He will take the best of your fields, of your vineyards and olive groves and give them to his officials. He will take the best of your man servants and maid servants, of your cattle and your donkeys, and make them work for him. He will tithe your flocks, and you yourselves will become his slaves. When that day comes, you will cry out on account of the king you have chosen for yourselves, but on that day God will not answer you."

Historically, David the King of Israel violated the covenant code, as illustrated in the story of confrontation between David and Nathan over the "robbing" of Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah. This confrontation reveals the nature of the Davidic rule, which followed the way of despotism and broke the covenant. At the same time it shows the true nature of political leadership as preserver of justice, on the basis of the covenant (II Samuel 12:1-15).

King Solomon was a typical despotic ruler in violation of the covenant, due to his building of the kingdom along the lines of a despotic monarchy. Chaney's following description is very apt:

"Solomon's attempts to finish the transformation of Israel into a typical agrarian nation-state, complete with his erection of the Temple as a royal chapel to house Yawehism as a state established and state-legitimizing religion, were minus that flow of booty. To finance ambitious building programs, the importation of military materiel and luxury goods on a grand scale, and the maintenance of burgeoning military, court, and cultic establishment, Solomon pressed his agrarian economic base to the breaking point." (See Marvin L. Chaney, "Systemic Study of the Israelite Monarchy," Semeia, pp.53-76.)

Subsequently all the kings of the people of Israel are judged by the same covenant; and the Deuteronomic assessment of monarchs in the history books of the Old Testament reflects this understanding of the relationship of kingship and covenant. King Ahab became the symbol of the king who breaks the covenant, through his appropriation of the vineyard of Naboth.

Exodus and Prophetic Politics

The protest movement of Elijah rises against this background. When the covenant framework of political life for the people of God was completely broken, there arose a vision for the restoration of the covenant political community.

The covenant community had emerged from the Exodus movement of the Hebrew people out of Pharaoh's Egypt. The Exodus is the story of the Sovereignty of Yahweh in the political life of the Hebrew people. The covenant is that Yahweh is the Lord of the Hebrew people and they are the people of God; and that therefore, the people's loyalty is to Yahweh alone. The Sovereignty of Yahweh means denial of, and resistance against, the "sovereignty" of the Egyptian Pharaoh. The Exodus movement was the historical beginning of opposition to all despotic and imperial rule over the people of God; and the covenant community was the first political and socio-economic expression of the Sovereignty of Yahweh, who liberated the Hebrew slaves from the land of Egypt.

This covenant politics was expressed in the prophetic movement, which was a political resistance against all despotic or imperial rule, a witness to the Sovereignty of God, and the political expression of that sovereignty, that is, the restoration of the covenant community.

The Deuteronomic view of the kings and their rule is a manifestation of the covenantal view of the politics of God with the people of God, and it is in this context that the prophetic movement of politics should be understood. Prophetic politics is not only the criticism of the despotic powers that have violated the covenant with God by oppressing the poor and the weak; but also and specially a projection of the shape of the Sovereign Rule of God, which allows no absolute despotic powers, but which subjugates the powers into the form of "Servant" to the Sovereign God. This is the only form of power allowed under the Sovereignty of God the Servant, who protects the rights of the poor and oppressed as prescribed in the covenant with God.

In prophetic politics the Sovereign Rule of God is just, protecting the poor and the weak against imperial and despotic rule, both of which are rebellious against God the Sovereign. The prophetic movement was to restore the faithful relationship between God and the people of God, which meant the restoration of the covenant community. Therefore, prophetic politics is not merely critical and negative politics, not merely transcendent politics, but politics for the concrete restoration of the covenant community. It is not legalistic but dynamic (Jeremiah 31:31-34).

Nevertheless, the prophets' reminder that the true Sovereign is God means that the people of God had to have concrete legal provisions of do's and don't's.

The people of Israel wanted the restoration of Davidic rule in its ideal form, not in its historical form, for the Davidic kingship was permitted in the form of Servant King to Yahweh, a polity of Servanthood to the Sovereign and to the sovereign will of the people. And this polity was radically different from the despotic and imperial polity, which was authoritarian and absolute.

Imperial Powers

The people of God experienced the various kinds of imperial powers in tragic and dramatic ways. Biblical literature, especially in the Apocalyptic writings, regards the imperial powers of Babylon, Egypt, Assyria, Greece and Rome as powers of darkness and chaos. Any reverence shown to these powers is seen as religious idolatry and political prostitution.

In Genesis chapter one, chaos and darkness represent the empires' rebellion against the Sovereignty of God; there is no life, no justice and no shalom of God in their imperial rule.

God's Sovereign Rule means the created order and the garden of God in it. In the garden there was the tree of life; and as a limit to human sovereignty there was placed the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Human rule violated the prohibitio and claimed the place of God, whose wisdom alone knows good and evil. The power that claims the knowledge of good and evil is in itself a rebellion against God. But such is the truth-claim of the absolute powers.

The human power that is rebellious against God's Sovereign Rule finds itself naked (self-knowledge of self-contradiction) and defends itself through its own rationalization before the Sovereignty of God.

This rebellion of human power is manifested in the vicious cycle of violence and enmity in human community. The koinonia of Adam and Eve had been realized in their household; however, not only were they both chased out of the garden, but there was conflict between the serpent and the woman, and later in Cain's killing of Abel. Adam and Eve and Cain defended themselves before God, for they could not stand naked before God. The naked power must hide itself with the veil of self-justification and rationalization, which is the ground of self-legitimation.

In the story of Noah the people of God were under the threat of the flood. The Tower of Babel rose as the first symbol of empire defying God's sovereign rule, and a monolithic language, the ideology of modern-day power, was established for the erection of the Tower of Babel, the Babylonian Empire. This monolithic language and ideology did not create communication, but imposed the will of the power upon the people. The consequence was confusion between what the people wanted and what the imperial power wanted; there was a contradiction between what God willed and what the empire willed.

In Daniel and Revelation, the principalities and powers are referred to as animals and mythical beasts which form a jungle of killing and death. These political perceptions show a profound understanding of history as dominated by ruthless imperial powers claiming to be absolute. Historicism and rationalism, in their interpretation of this apocalyptic literature, are bereft of any such a deep understanding of power. We need to recover these apocalyptic stories as a way of understanding the reality of power today. The stories of the victims of the oppressive political powers possess keen political insights into the reality of the powers of domination. The apocalyptic literature should be regarded as the story of politically oppressed people about the powers that dominate them.

The stories of the Behemoth and the Leviathan in Job (40:15-24 and 41:1-34) contain symbolic and graphic descriptions of the imperial powers.

"Behold, Behemoth, which I made as I made you; he eats grass like an ox. Behold, his strength in his loins, and his power in the muscles of his belly. He makes his tail stiff like a cedar; the sinews of his thighs are knit together. His bones are tubes of bronze, his limbs like bars of iron. His is the first of the workers of God; let him who made him bring near his sword! For the mountains yield food for him where all the wild beasts play. Under the lotus plants he lies, in the covert of the reeds and in the marsh. For his shade the lotus trees cover him; the willows of the brook surround him. Behold if the river is turbulent he is not frightened; he is confident though Jordan rushes against his mouth. Can one take him with hooks or pierce his nose with a snare?"

"Can you draw out Leviathan with fishhook, or press down his tongue with a cord? Can you put a rope in his nose or pierce his jaw with a hook? Will he make many supplications to you? Will he speak to you soft words?...Lay hands on him; think of the battle; you will not do it again. Behold, the hope of a man is disappointed; he is laid low even at the sight of him. No one is so fierce that he dares to stir him up... His sneezings flash forth light, his eyes are like eyelids of the dawn. Out of his mouth go flaming torches; sparks of fire leap forth. Out of his nostrils comes forth smoke, as from a boiling pot and burning rushes. His breath kindles coals, and a flame comes forth from his mouth. In his neck abides strength, and terror dances before him. The folds of his flesh cleave together, firmly cast upon him and immovable. His heart is hard as stone, hard as the nether millstone. When he raises himself up the mighty are afraid; at the crashing they are beside themselves. Though the sword reaches him, it does not avail; nor the spear, the dart, or the javelin...Upon earth there is not his like, a creature without fear. He beholds everything that is high; he is king over all the sons of pride."

The author of the Book of Revelation compares the Roman Empire to Babylon and the Leviathan. These empires are described in mythical and symbolic language as monsters of evil and chaos. Most importantly, the empires are depicted as rebelling against the Sovereignty of God; by identifying themselves as gods, the rulers absolutize their political authority. The second characteristic attributed to the empires is their power of violence, symbolized by Behemoth and Leviathan, mystical beasts which are violent and all-powerful--the main players in the jungle. The third but most significant reality of these powers is revealed by the suffering of their victims, the oppressed and persecuted people. These characteristics are not merely symbolic realities, but the very concrete, inner, dynamic realities of the imperial powers. It is noteworthy that the reality of the imperial powers is "revealed" rather than analyzed here, though concrete facts are not lacking in the descriptions.

Politics of the Suffering Servant

The story of the Suffering Servant is the political history of the people of God under oppressive imperial rule. Jesus' suffering on the cross was the point in history at which imperial injustice clashed with the justice of God, when the Roman Empire executed the Son of God--Jesus, the Messiah of the people. The mission of the Suffering Servant is to expose the inner nature of the imperial powers and to witness to God the Lord of history, who is present as justice for the suffering people. The politics of the Suffering Servant demands the working of the Spirit among the people, giving them visions of the Sovereign Rule of the world.

When the covenant framework of political life for the people of God was completely broken, there arose the vision of restoration of the covenant political community. The Exilic experiences and colonial experiences of the people of Israel is reflected in the story of the Suffering Servant( Isaiah 53) and in the story of Messianic visions (Isaiah 11, etc.), which are to be understood against the background of the imperial powers. The New Covenant and the Coming of the Messiah, the New Jerusalem under the New Heaven and New Earth are connected with the story of the vindication of the Suffering Servant and the resurrection of the Crucified Messiah. This is the political story of the Restoration of the Sovereign Rule of God and the Rule of God's Servant--the Messiah--which includes the restoration of the sovereign rights of the people. The core of Messianic politics is koinonia, meaning shared authority and power, the vindication of justice, protection of the powerless and the suffering, and shalom as it is manifested in the stories of the Garden of Eden and the Messianic visions.

Messianic Reign:

Political Vision of the People of God

under the Imperial Powers

The New Heaven and New Earth, or the New Jerusalem, is a political vision which is the fulfillment of God's Covenant: God dwells with the People of God (Rev. 21). God's Sovereignty over the whole universe, over heaven and earth, is envisioned here, beyond human community. The antithesis of New Jerusalem is Babylon, that is, the Roman Empire. Here, Messianic politics and imperial politics are counterposed. Imperial politics is the broken covenant, the rebellion against God's Sovereignty.

Messianic Visions

In the Book of the Prophet Isaiah the Spirit is shown to be the guarantor of the security of the people of God, and the establishment of the just rule of God is envisioned, to judge in favor of the poor. Isaiah also describes the "garden" where all the ferocious beasts are transformed and tamed into playful animals that do no harm. This is the reverse vision of the jungle, where the beasts kill each other for their own survival.

The vision of New Jerusalem is also the response of the persecuted community to the imperial domination and oppression of the Roman Empire. This is the vision of the confrontation of the peace of Jesus Christ and his community with Pax Romana. It is also the vision of the Messianic banquet, and the vision of God's Sovereign Rule: God dwells with the people of God.

There shall be no sorrow, no mourning, not even death.

In New Jerusalem will be the water and tree of life. The people of God will enjoy the messianic banquet, participating in it with the Messianic Ruler; they will enjoy the fullness and wholeness of life. This is the Garden again: the Garden in the Book of Isaiah and Genesis is in the natural setting, while in the Book of Revelation it is in an urban setting. But all the visions of the Garden are visions of full life.

The story of the Garden of Eden has already reflected the messianic vision. God is the Lord of the principalities and powers, the heavenly hosts and gods, the kings and emperors. God is the Lord of chaos and darkness, the Creator of the universal order of peace and the garden therein, for God is the Lord of the Jungle, where beasts struggle accoding to the "laws of the survival of the fittest".

The Politics of Jesus the Messiah

Messianic politics culminates in the cross and resurrection of Jesus the Christ and his community. The Reign of God is the main focus of the witness of Christ, as testified in the Gospels. The crucifixion of Jesus by the Roman Empire shows the historical reality of the political "struggle" between the Sovereignty of God and the Roman imperial rule. It was not merely the question of restoration of the independence of the Israeli nation, though the liberation of the Israeli people should be an integral part of the Sovereign rule of God over the peoples of the world.

Both the Exodus movement for the covenant community and the mission of the Suffering Servant are fulfilled in the cross of Jesus the Messiah, whose overcoming of the power of death is the political movement of God in history against Babylon, that is, against all political powers which are against God's Sovereignty over the people of the world.

How do we understand messianic politics in history? The politics of Jesus is, in the first place, that of the Suffering Servant, who says, "Whoever wants to be the first shall be the last; and whoever is the last shall be the first." This political "order" envisioned by Jesus is exactly the opposite of the political order of the Roman Empire and its colonies. The politics of Jesus is the formation of a new covenant community which is faithful to the great commandments. Jesus becomes the mediator of the covenant between God and the people, and among the people, so that justice and shalom prevail.

In the politics of Jesus, who stood in front of Pontius Pilate, the authority of the Roman Empire, we find the decisive confrontation between the Sovereignty of God and the Pax Imperium of all ages. In the formation of the Resurrection community, the messianic politics of Jesus is concretized in history.

MESSIANIC POLITICS AND MINJUNG POLITICS

The People are the Subject of Politics

One of the fundamental premises of Minjung Theology is that the minjung (people) are the subject of history. There are some theologians who object to this position, arguing that it absolutizes the minjung, when God is the Subject of history. They point out that the minjung are sinful and unreliable, as evidenced in their finally crying out for the crucifixion of Jesus. A strong objection comes from Germany and Japan about the dangers of political romanticization, as in the case of Nazism and Japanese ultra-nationalism. However, all these objections are based upon an anti-minjung position, emphazising the objectified and negative side of the minjung.

The problem is that such arguments, contrary to the biblical message, exclude the possibility that the Minjung are the subject of history. The affirmation of the Sovereignty of God is the very political and social affirmation of the sovereign rights of the people, seen in the context of the covenant between God and the people; and the covenant is the foundation for the securing of the people's rights and shalom. The people as the subjects are to fulfill the covenant and participate in the koinonia of the Messianic Reign. It is the people who are workers for justice, not the powers; the people who are peacemakers, not the the powers; the people who are free in the covenant; not the powers.

The people, as subject, experience history in the most comprehensive sense, suffering the pains of the world aspiring for justice and crying for the coming of a world where the Just God is Sovereign.

The minjung are actors in politics, they are partners of God in covenant: partners of love, of just relations and of peace-making. They are partners in the koinonia of the people of God. This is the politics of participation, and the minjung are the subject of this participation. Therefore, their political rights cannot be violated by any name or authority. The political insitutions must serve the minjung.

It is from this perspective of the people as the sovereign subjects of politics and history, that despotism, authoritarianism, militarism, and totalitarianism, as well as the powers of the liberal polity, must be evaluated. The problem is not merely to limit the powers, but to transform and "tame" them to serve the sovereigns, that is, the minjung. Political thinking must engage in theoretical enterprise not for power, but for the people, through the efforts of the people themselves. It is not a matter of theory about power itself. The purpose of the people's political participation is not to obey, but to be the sovereign rulers. The problem is not merely to limit the power--to criticise and resist it when it becomes tyrannical, but also to question its very foundation and source, to transform it from lord to servant, and to witness to the Sovereignty of God and to the Messianic Sovereignty which is the foundation of the sovereignty of the people.

The People Are Suffering Servants

under the Powers That Be

The political experience of the people is caused by their subjugation to the principalities and powers and their loss of sovereignty in life and history. The arch-paradigm of this profound experience under political oppression is the story of the Suffering Servant and the story of Jesus on the Cross. Servanthood under the despotic and imperial powers is the annihilation of the subjecthood of the people, who are created, protected and promised new life by God. The social biography of the Minjung is therefore the most fruitful way to go deeply into the political experience of the people, since all social biographies of the people are those of suffering servants.

The first and most important political experience of the people is their resistance against the oppressive powers. The first theological task therefore is to discern the dynamics of political resistance among the peoples of God. God is the resistance leader against the despotic and imperial powers, and the prophets are leaders in this resistance struggle. The resistance movement here is not merely action against the oppressive powers, but affirmation of the justice and shalom of God over against the oppressive powers.

The Calvinist tradition of a covenant of resistance against unjust power, which was originally understood within the established political order, can be reinterpreted for a third situation. As is eloquently analyzed in the "Kairos Document", Romans 13 and I Peter 2 have been misused by Christendom to justify the unjust powers.

The political resistance against the apartheid system in South Africa is an example of political witness; the "Kairos Document" and the "Theological Rationale and Call to Prayer to End the Unjust Rule" are theological examples that spell out the politics of resistance.

The democratic movement in Korea and its "Theological Declaration of 1973" is another example. The political witness of the confessing churches under Nazi Germany is yet another. The Status Confessionis tradition began in the Biblical traditions, where loyalty to the emperor or the king meant idolatry against God.

Messianic politics in Korean history has had two dimensions: 1) the people's resistance against the oppressive powers, including despotic power, totalitarian rule, authoritarian and military dictatorship; and 2) struggle for a new political life in which the people are liberated as subjects for their own life of justice, peace and well-being.

Among the Messianic traditions of the East there have been the Confucian notion of the Great Peace (T'aip'ing), the Buddhist messianic Pure Land or Western Paradise, and the Donghak Heavenly Nation on Earth (Chisang Ch'onkuk), all of which represent such politics.

People and Political Vision

The suffering minjung are searching for a new community and society in which they will no longer suffer. They dream of justice and shalom in a new world. As the bearers of a new social vision, their social imagination is so powerful that it generates great energy for the minjung movements. Ideologues of the established power and intellectuals of the status quo dismiss the social imaginations of the people as naive, irrational, crude or partial, but in fact these imaginations are usually subversive of the existing social order which is making the people suffer.

The history of Korean minjung movements is a depository of messianic visions and utopian dreams. The messianic vision of the Maitreya Buddha and the yearning for the coming of the Western Pure Land played a decisive role for minjung movements in the Silla Dynasty (B.C.57-A.D.935), and eventually provided the foundation for the United Kingdom of Silla, which integrated the two other kingdoms in the Korean peninsula. The Maitreya Buddha influence appeared againin rebellions by the people at the end of the United Kingdom of Silla and throughout the Chosun Dynasty (1392-1910). Especially during the last quarter of Chosun, the minjung movements found their utopian dreams in the language of the Western Pure Land, into which the Maitreya Buddha would bring the people out of the bondage of their sufferings.

An indigenous religious movement which was founded in 1860 by the messianic figure Choi Je-U, and which inculcated the utopian dream of a heavenly kingdom on earth, inspired a powerful social imagination among the minjung movements. This religion was the minjung religious force behind the famous March First Independence Movement of 1919 for freedom from the colonial power of the Japanese Empire.

Just as the Buddhist vision of the Western Pure Land provided the minjung with a new vision of the world, and just as the Tonghak religion inspired the minjung belief in the earthly kingdom of heaven, so the Christian vision of the Messianic Kingdom of New Heaven and New Earth catalyzed a powerful social imagination among the Korean minjung for their new future. When the Roman Catholic Church entered the Chosun Dynasty at the beginning of the 17th century, it spurred a powerful social imagination among the believers, leading them to dream of a society without division between yangban (ruling echelon) and commoners. For this reason Roman Catholicism was regarded by the rulers of the Chosun Dynasty as a subversive teaching.

A Catholic novelist wrote a popular tale, called the Biography of Hong Kil Dong. The story is about a young man who was born of a yangban father and a commoner mother. Because his mother was not of yangban origin, he was disqualified from any high government post. Dissatisfaction grew deep in the heart of the young man, and finally he revolted and joined the rebels, who were called " Hwalbindang" (bandits who aid the poor). At the end of the story he established a utopia called Yuldo, which was characterized by the elimination of the division between Yangban and commoners. This utopian vision made Hong Kil Dong one of the most popular tales among the minjung of the Chosun Dynasty.

The Christian religion also played the role of a minjung religion, a religion of the oppressed, providing a messianic vision to the oppressed Korean people under the Japanese imperial rule, although official Christianity sought to divert Korean Christians from their concern with political liberation from Japan.

Protestant Christianity became a powerful source of social imagination among the Korean people during their oppression under the Japanese. They identified themselves with the people of Israel in the Old Testament. The biblical stories were by analogy and metaphor the powerful social biographies of the oppressed Korean Christians and, vicariously, the Korean minjung. The vision of the New Heaven and New Earth was powerfully present in the Declaration of Korean Independence, 1919, which still provides the foundation of the political life of the Korean people. In other words, the Korean oppressed were able to appropriate the biblical stories to create powerful social imagination among themselves. This is the case today among the poor in Korea.

The Bible provides a political vision that is the fulfillment of God's Covenant: God dwells with the people of God (Rev. 21), and is sovereign over the whole universe. The only permissible political authority is that of servanthood within the framework of God's covenant with the people. The Minjung and Political Ideology

In the political life of the people the ideology is that of the powerful. This is the experience of the people under the powers. The ideology takes various forms, but it justifies the violence of the power and legitimizes the unjust power relations and structures. Various forms of ideologies such as oriental despotism, totalitarianism, authoritarianism, liberalism, Marxism and capitalism are ideologies of the dominant powers that subjugate the people in various different ways. This is the primary role of the ideology. Thus, there can be no separation of the dominant power and ideology. The question of ideology, therefore, should be discussed in relation to the power; and this should be done in relation to the people as the subject of politics.

The political ideologies are the language of the powerful; and the stories of the people are expressions of their suffering under the dominant powers, and expressions of their political sovereignty and subjectivity. Therefore, the issue of ideology should be seen in the light of the relationship between the power and the people, that is, the self-justification of the dominant power and the stories of the people's experience of that power.

The powers are exposed to the Sovereign God, who is the Lord of all principalities and powers, for in their self-centeredness, they seek to be autonomous and even absolute. Therefore, the powers are "fugitives" like Cain needing to cover themselves up before the just God, for they have violated the covenant. The dominant powers rise to justify themselves as Cain did, before God, who asks about the slain Abel. The need to justify is because the power has injured the people and violated the covenant, which is the framework in which the people are sovereign subject, established by God.

The ideology in the revolutionary situation is closely associated with the story of the minjung. We cannot consider the revolutionary ideology as such; for ideology is basically a justification of the dominant power. For example, the Marxist ideology is regarded as revolutionary ideology; but it is a powerful ideology of domination in Marxist states. It is a counter-ideology primarily against the capitalist ideology. When an ideology serves the people as the subject of political life, then it is not the justification of the dominant power, but the language of liberation. We cannot isolate the question of ideology as a philosophical problem of truth, or as a political instrument of the dominant power or the revolution, just as we cannot deal with the question of power by itself. It should be dealt with in relation to the stories of the people.

We are insisting that an ideology cannot substitute for the stories of the people; and that the stories of the people cannot be reduced to an ideology, especially not to the dominant ideology. They cannot be reduced even to a revolutionary ideology, for the people's stories are a social biography, which is a comprehensive langage of their experience.

Biblically speaking, the stories of slain Abel, of the Hebrew slaves, of Naboth, of the Suffering Servant, of Jesus on the Cross, are the stories of the people under the oppressive powers; and through these stories is exposed the justificatory nature and function of all ideologies for the dominant power.

The stories of the people are not merely the stories of their suffering under the dominant powers; they contain the stories of resistance and struggle for justice and liberation. They are the political wisdom of the minjung which rises out of their suffering. The political experiences of the people cannot be reduced either to an ideology or to a tactical tool. The political wisdom of the people is the reservoir and cradle of political vision, which is ignited into powerful social imagination upon contact with the political vision of Jesus the Messiah, as we have already elucidated.

The people live and move through the history of yesterday, today and tomorrow with their accumulated wisdom. No ideology can substitute for this wisdom, and if it is to serve the people, it must be subsumed to their wisdom. The wisdom of the people is the correlate of their subjectivity in politics and history.

The vision of the people for their new future is not merely an inverse picture of the present, which would be a mere reflection of the present social order. The vision is an alternative social order which rises out of the experiences of suffering and wisdom of the past. This vision is rooted in the historical experiences of the people. It is not an abstract projection into the future, but a concrete imagination for justice and peace in the new future. It is not a tabulation of the negatives of the present order, but a creative formulation of the positive values that have roots in the people's historical experiences and are newly envisioned into the new tomorrow.

People and Political Authority

The existence of the powers-that-be as the ordained servant of God for justice and peace, has certain structural implications. The problem of power's self-centeredness, its being its own master rather than having the Sovereign God and the sovereign people as its master, is profoundly exposed in the resistance of the Suffering Servant and Jesus the Messiah against the oppressive political powers.

Jesus's teaching that 'if anyone would be the first, he must be last of all and servant of all' (Mark 9:35) is the political order of the Messianic Reign. The servant is a prominent image of political and religious leadership in the Bible. Indeed, the Messiah is the very servant leadership that manifests the Sovereignty of God to serve all people, making them the sovereigns of politics.

The source of authority of all powers is the Sovereignty of God. Terms like lord, king, ruler and lordship, kindgdom and empire are used to express the authority and power of the dominant political regimes. The Sovereignty of God is not a projection of the authority of power; rather the exact opposite is the case. Just as the patriarchal language in the Bible and theology is detrimental to the message and witness of the Gospel, so is the hierarchical, authoritarian, despotic and imperial political language that radically distorts the political message of the Gospel.

The Sovereignty of God radically rejects an autonomous, self-centered authority that refuses to serve the people. The Sovereign Rule of God opens up a political space where the people become sovereign over the power that serves them. It is not anarchy. It cannot be hierarchy. It is political authority that turns political power into service to the people. If we are to name this authority, it may be called doularchy (Doulos Arche).

Liberal democracy has embarked on a small journey in this direction; but the fundamental problem is that the autonomy of political power as an individual entity subverts the servanthood of power and at the same time subverts the sovereignty of the people. The Marxist powers similarly affirm the autonomy of state power as a collective entity in the name of the people, meanwhile subverting the sovereignty of the people and the servanthood of power, and even becoming absolute powers suppressing the people's sovereignty.

Thus, political theories based upon the autonomous reason of the Enlightenment have made the powers autonomous and prevented the sovereignty of the people from being taken seriously. In fact, in the political theories of the West, the sovereignty of the people has been formal recognized on the basis of the autonomy of reason, as the essence of human existence. The Sovereignty of God has no place in the formation of the sovereignty of the people, according to modern political theories. Therefore, the absolutization of power and the subjugation of the people by the powers has taken place, on both ideological and functional levels. The people become the subjects of political life only nominally; in reality they are negative "subjects", the subjugated objects of the political powers.

The biblical passages in Romans 13 and I Peter 2 as well as Revelations 13 are fundamentally affirmations of the Sovereignty of God. This opens up some freedom in which the people take charge of their political affairs. This is true obedience to the Sovereign God, who created the principalities and powers to serve God and God's people.

People's Participation and New Political Order

We have testified to a political history of the world in which despotic powers, authoritarian and military dictatorships, totalitarian and liberal regimes are oppressing the people, while giving freedom to the powerful classes and elites. These powers and their ideologies and theories have served only political domination, not the people. The situation is reaching a critical stage, for these powers are becoming far-reaching enough to destroy the very existence of people everywhere.

Humankind must now face this political crisis in a fundamental way, so that there may be a real reversal of the current political trend. We believe that the Sovereignty of God and Messianic Politics of Jesus Christ is the reality that will bring about a new political paradigm for the world, if we seek to be faithful in the midst of the political sufferings, struggles and aspirations of the peoples of the world.

The sharing of political wisdom and vision among the peoples of the world is the beginning of a creative political imagination for political praxis and theoretical reflection. The political visions and wisdom of the struggling peoples in the world, with their different religious and political heritages, provide the context in which the Messianic communities of Jesus Christ share their political wisdom and vision as it is revealed in the Bible. This is the beginning of political reflection and praxis by the Christian community in the world. It is the very story of the people of God in the Old and New Testaments.

The experiences of the Basic Ecclesial Communities in Latin America and some parts of Asia, involvement of Christian communities in human rights in Africa and Asia, Christian witnesses in liberation struggles, and martyrdom experiences in the history of political witness provide the historical wisdom and imagination needed to engage Christian communities in the formulation of a new political paradigm for the world of today, for the liberation of oppressed peoples.

Popular democracy in the Philippines is an example of a movement toward broader participation. The political expression of the Korean people's March First Independence Movement and their recent "minjung politics" provide other examples of such development. These experiences indicate the necessity of going beyond the traditional political theories of liberal democracy and Marxist ideology, as these theories do not fully include the experiences of the oppressed peoples in the world today.

People's Movement and Power

One of the most debated issues in political action and thinking today is the question of power. This question has been dealt with in the context and the perspective of the established political order. In a sense, political theory is theory on political power from the erspective of the power-holders. Political theory is never theoretical reason to overcome the domination of the powerful by the powerless people. Liberal theories and Marxist theories are no exception, and it goes without saying that neither are the despotic and totalitarian dictatorships.

Here the question of power starts with the existence of the present power reality as the basis. The "ontological" status of the powers that be, the source of their authority, and their relation to the people are not raised. The instrumental and functional aspects of power are often discussed. Political theory, therefore, becomes the theory of governance by the ruler, government, and public policy.

The Sovereignty of God opens up the questions of the authority of power, and its source, its ontological status, its pretensions and self-justifications, and its ideologies. The Covenant of God and the people brings these questions into relationship with the people's political experiences and their movements to overcome their suffering under the oppressive political powers.

What is power in the context of the people's movements and people's politics? We have stated that the status of power can only be that of servant, that it cannot be master of the people. The function of power is therefore service, and service alone. Power therefore serves the people as its sovereign. Here political theory is not about power, but about the sovereignty of the people in relation to the powers- that-be.

It has been the tradition in the West to understand power from a realistic, not a utopian or idealistic perspective. This is sometimes called political realism. The theological version of this is to understand the powers-that-be from the perspective of the Fall and sin. This position has always undermined the relevance of the messianic political visions in the Bible and church history, and in the history of the people. That is because political realism is fundamentally the theory of power from the perspective of the powerful, not from the perspective of the oppressed people. Reinhold Niebuhr's fundamental limitation was that he neglected the imagination and visionary heritage of Messianic politics in the Bible and in Christian history, and he depreciated the popular visions that rise in the context of oppressed peoples. His assault on pacifist traditions is just one example of his limited vision of peace in the world.

The ethics of the middle axiom, such as justice, freedom and order in the framework of responsible society; justice, participation and sustainablity in the framework of the Just, Participatory and Sustainable Society; Justice, Peace and Integrity of Creation in the JPIC framework, do call for fundamental questioning of the existing order from the theological and confessional perspective. But such a universal call has not been consistently related to the movements of the people, although there is a general thrust that these concerns should be related to theological questions. Recently there have been increasing tensions as to how these middle axioms should be related to the suffering and struggles of the people, especially in the third world.

It is fair to say that the middle axioms of the Responsible Society, JPSS and JPIC bring about mixed results, depending upon how these are related to the particular political and social contexts. But it is clear that the peoples' movements do not occupy the central place in ecumenical thought. This means that the existing power structures are not being seriously questioned, either theologically in relation to the Sovereignty of God, or politically in relation to oppressed people. Furthermore, Christian communities tend to be silent on the question of power as long as it is related to revolutionary actions, even if the will to power in the revolutionary movements is open to question. This attitude serves neither the revolutionary cause nor the cause of the Christian commitment. The powers, in whatever circumstances, revolutionary or established, must be subject to the Sovereignty of God and the sovereignty of the people. When power is tamed by the sovereign will of God, even the monster Leviathan will be turned into a playful creature of God (Psalm 104:26).  


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