Chapter 3: The New View of the World

We must now turn to that which, as much as anything else, has helped to turn the modern world into a new world. All of us have some mental picture into which we fit the particular bit of the earth’s surface on which we live, and the starry sky we see at night. Although these mental pictures vary in emphasis, and in detail, and with some people they are much more hazy than they are with others, yet there are some fundamental things that they all have in common. This mental picture is the framework for what we may call our ‘world view’. In the world view we share we have all been made aware of the rather insignificant role played by the planet on which we live; we know something of the solar system, and we have had impressed upon us the unbelievably immense distances which separate us from most of the stars we see in the sky with our naked eyes.

But this world view which we people of today share, regardless of our religious beliefs, is in some respects very different from that shared by the ancient world, and even from that which obtained at the Reformation. Whether we like it or not, we are separated from our fellow-Christians of the sixteenth century and earlier by virtue of a world view which causes us to think quite differently about some aspects of life on this planet. To appreciate this it is necessary to go back to the two men, who more than any others may be said to have triggered off this change in world view which has had such far-reaching implications. They are Copernicus and Galileo.

The popular view of the universe that mainly prevailed throughout the Christian era until their time, regarded the earth on which men lived as being a comparatively flat surface which stood at the very center of the universe. Above it, in the sky, the sun, moon and stars were seen to pass over on various regular paths. Only a limited area of the flat earth and some of the sea was really known by man at firsthand, and this meant that the distant areas, either visible to his eye in the case of the sky, or surmised by him in the case of what lay under the earth, were open to a good deal of speculation, and found expression in a variety of myths.

From time immemorial the sky had been associated with the gods, and in Christian thought this meant that the chief dwelling-place of God was the sky or heaven (in Hebrew and Greek there is only one word for both). From pre-Christian times too, man had inherited the view that the dead dwell in an underworld, that is, some supposed area below the surface of the earth, and it is fairly obvious that this notion developed from the practice of the burial of the dead. Once the doctrine of future rewards and punishments took shape, the underworld became not so much the realm of the dead as the realm of the wicked, who there suffered their deserved torment, while those destined for the blessed life with God were naturally imagined as living in the heaven or sky above.

From our own experience we can appreciate how easy it is to be content with some rather vague mental picture from which we do not attempt to draw all its logical implications. This general view varied of course in detail from age to age and from person to person. Dante and Milton bequeathed to us their epic expressions of this three-decker universe as it is commonly called today, even though Milton was living at a time when this world view was receiving the first impact of the challenge destined to destroy it.

There had been other theories of the universe put forward. About a hundred years after Christ, Ptolemy postulated that the earth was a sphere, though immovable, at the center of the universe, round which the heavenly bodies moved. Some four hundred years earlier a Greek named Aristarchos of Samos conjectured that the sun was the center of the universe and that the earth revolved round it. But such theories were never widely known nor did they meet with popular acceptance. Consequently, it was inevitable that the Christian faith should come to express itself within the framework of the three-decker universe just described.

The Middle Ages, particularly the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, had witnessed the revival of intellectual activity in Europe and the founding of the first universities. The philosophy and science of Aristotle (384-22 BC.) was revived through the medium of the Arabs and the Jews, and the theology of St. Thomas Aquinas is the most famous attempt to harmonize Christian doctrine with the teaching of Aristotle. Aquinas thus established a new norm for Christian orthodoxy, and by the Reformation the world view derived largely from Aristotle had become firmly entrenched as Christian dogma and the Bible was interpreted in the light of it. They saw the universe as a series of concentric spheres surrounding the earth at their center and in these spheres moved the planets and stars and other heavenly bodies. It was a view which seemed eminently reasonable to everyday experience.

This view of the universe was successfully challenged and overthrown in the sixteenth century by two Christian scholars, who may be rightly regarded as laying the foundations of the modern science of astronomy. Nicolas Copernicus (1473-1543), after graduating in arts and medicine at Krakow, was professor of mathematics at Rome before he was thirty. Through the influence of his uncle, a bishop, he was invited to an ecclesiastical post at Frauenberg in his own country. It was only after he had diligently attended to his main responsibilities, such as devotional exercises and the tending of the sick, that he had spare time to devote to study and meditation. He was led to examine the earlier theories of Pythagoras (c. 582-500 BC.) and Aristarchos (310-330 BC.) which concluded that the sun and not the earth was the center of the universe. Copernicus now revived this theory, and was able to produce some convincing arguments which seriously challenged the views of Aristotle, namely, that the earth was "fixed, immovable, and the center of the universe".

It is now known that Copernicus reached his conclusions by about 1530, but they were not published until 1543 the year of his death, in a book entitled, The Revolutions of the Celestial Orbs. Copernicus knew that his conclusions were likely to meet with violent opposition from ecclesiastical authorities. Yet it was not fear which caused him to delay publication, but rather his modest and gentle nature. He was a man of deep religious faith, who did not wish to offend his fellows. He dedicated his book to Pope Paul III.

The views of Copernicus did not depart completely from the Aristotelian picture of the universe in that he still regarded the planets as moving in circular orbits round the sun. But he may be said to have put the earth in its proper place. This conclusion was soon accepted by a small and selected group of scholars in the sixteenth century and led Kepler to arrive at his exceptionally important three laws of planetary motion. But the views of Copernicus were regarded as heretical by the church authorities, and an eminent philosopher, Giordano Bruno (1548-1600), was convicted of heresy in 1594 for professing them and after six years of imprisonment in which he refused to recant, he died at the stake. He is reported to have said as he faced death, "You who sentence me are in greater fear than I who am condemned . . . this at least future ages will not deny me, be the victor who he may -- that I did not fear to die. I yielded to none of my fellows in constancy and preferred a spirited death to a cowardly life."

Bruno’s death was a shock to all thinking people and caused the brilliant young Italian mathematician Galileo (1564-1642) to walk with more caution. For after making some basic and shattering new discoveries about the nature of gravity, Galileo had become quite outspoken in his exposure of the falsehood embedded in Aristotelian physics and for this he quickly earned many enemies. In a letter to Kepler in 1597 Galileo confessed himself an adherent of the Copernican system but indicated that he had said nothing in public for fear that it would jeopardize his post as Professor of Mathematics at Padua.

In 1604 there blazed into the sky a brilliant new star (known to astronomers today as a nova) and Galileo, using it as an object lesson, lectured on astronomy to entranced audiences in a way which revealed his Copernican leanings. His enemies forced him into the open, and Padua became a storm-center of controversy. Galileo was now openly committed to the new world view and the forces of the church were allied against him.

Just about this time the invention of the telescope enabled Galileo to go forward with remarkable confidence. He found mountains and craters on the moon, and this contradicted the Aristotelian belief that the face of the moon was uniformly bright. He found moving spots on the sun, which showed that the sun was rotating on its axis. He discovered four moons revolving round Jupiter, and this served as an observable model of the solar system. But not even this visible proof convinced the Aristotelians, who regarded the telescope as an instrument of deception, some refusing even to look through it at all. This latter fact has unfortunately too often characterized that conservative attitude which resolutely shuts its eyes to the new truth which disturbs the security of the status quo.

For some years Galileo proclaimed the new truths with great success, so much so that he was encouraged to accept a post in his native Tuscany, where his enemies were somewhat stronger. In 1615 he was summoned to Rome to explain his views to the College of Cardinals, who thereupon decided to ban the writings of Copernicus and Kepler. On the 26th February 1616, Galileo, under threat of torture, agreed ‘to abandon and cease to teach his false, impious, and heretical opinions’. It has been said that no single act has done more harm to the church than Galileo’s trial.

Galileo returned to his work, treading a circumspect path. He set out to write his magnum opus, keeping in mind the promise he had made. For this reason his book took the form of a dialogue between Salviati, a Copernican, and Simplicio, an Aristotelian. It was a brilliant piece of argument in which Salviati easily won his case. For this reason it was strange that official permission was given for its publication in 1632. The eager public reception of the book was quickly followed by ecclesiastical action, in which Galileo, now an old man, was summoned to Rome on a charge of heresy. Remembering the fate of Bruno, and now broken in spirit, Galileo appeared before the Cardinals in penitent’s garb to make a solemn act of recantation in words which were directed to be read publicly from every pulpit and within every university.

Everyone today recognizes that Copernicus and Galileo were pioneers of a view of the universe which has become universally accepted. While the church’s treatment of these men is inexcusable, it is equally unfair of us from our vantage point in the twentieth century to declare how things should have been done. Men like Copernicus, Kepler and Galileo were producing theories which were not only not obvious, but which, in addition, seemed to be flatly contradicted by common-sense. On the other hand, the church authorities were right in being anxious to preserve the truth from being undermined by new-fangled error. The Aristotelian views by which they stood, were in their eyes not only eminently reasonable, but were thought to be inextricably bound up with the whole of Christian truth. The problem they faced was one which the church has been challenged to solve afresh at the advent of each fundamental new truth since that time. The church of Galileo’s time had perhaps more grounds for feeling confidence that it was right than has been the case in subsequent dilemmas, and yet it was wrong.

The College of Cardinals believed that the Christian faith was in danger if the Copernican world view was allowed to flourish. Perhaps they sensed how far-reaching this revolution in world view could eventually be. Over the next three centuries Christians gradually became adjusted to the new ideas about space. Yet even in this twentieth century we are still feeling the repercussions of the Copernican revolution, and some of our contemporary theological debates arise from the failure to recognize what a tremendous upheaval began at that point. The Christian has withstood the full impact of the Copernican revolution for so long only by keeping his thoughts to some degree in separate compartments, namely Christian and secular. In his religious thinking he has preserved a vague mental picture of an Aristotelian kind, while in his secular thinking about space exploration he never dreams of countering the Copernican revolution.

For while from childhood we have grown up to think of the earth as a planet revolving round the sun, and are ready to try to imagine the vast stretches of space which lie beyond the solar system in all directions, when we turn our attention to most other matters of human importance, the earth’s surface is for us the center of things. Thus intellectually we see ourselves in a space-world the pattern of which was initiated for modern man by Copernicus and Galileo. But emotionally the Biblical and pre-Coperican world views still satisfy us. This can only lead to an unhealthy, unstable, spiritual schizophrenia. This is part of the spiritual disease of the church of our day, where it fails to reconcile the new with the old.

We must briefly take note of two common methods of avoiding this schizophrenia. The first is the drastic step of abandoning the Christian faith completely as something which the modern world has shown to be quite outmoded. Some have taken this step explicitly; a much greater number have taken it implicitly, quite conscious that their remaining links with the historic roots of our culture and civilization are those of a nominal lip-service only. In some respects it is more healthy to be an honest non-Christian than a Christian schizophrenic, for the former has at least preserved some element of that integrity or wholeness of the human being for which the Christian faith expresses such concern in its Gospel of salvation.

The method of solving the problem of spiritual schizophrenia, most frequently used by professing Christians is to regard the language of the pre-Coperican world view as symbolic. All earlier affirmations about God, man and the world still stand, provided they are metaphorically interpreted. This approach is quite appealing, and contains a good measure of truth in it. But it does not go far enough, and so often in its more popular application, it does not make clear where symbol stops and reality begins. This may become clearer as we turn now to see some of the points to which the Coperican revolution leads.

We must first accept the displacement of the world from its supposed position as the immovable center of the universe. At first sight this may appear to have little significance for the Christian Gospel. But there are far-reaching implications. It means that the earth on which we live is not the center of the physical universe, but a comparatively small planet revolving round a very average-sized star, which in turn is but one of a hundred thousand million others forming the galaxy we call the Milky Way, and that part of the universe that our existing telescopes have so far penetrated contains about a hundred million star systems or nebulae, similar to our galaxy. Actually it is impossible for the minds of most of us really to grasp the significance of these figures, but they ought to impress upon us the almost unbelievable size of the observable universe, and the infinitesimal place in it occupied by our earth. Whether there is any organic life elsewhere in the universe, no one is able positively to affirm or deny. But the apparent lack of uniqueness of our planet makes it extremely likely that there is some kind of life elsewhere. Yet, as life has evolved on this planet to suit the complicated set of conditions that here pertain, it is unlikely that such life as may exist elsewhere will be identical with what we know or even bear close resemblance to it.

These aspects of the world in which we find ourselves today, require us to readjust our thinking about the place of man in the universe, the nature of the God who could be thought of as the Creator of this vast expanse, and the relationship, if any, which obtains between earth, man and God. The Copernican revolution has thus led us by steps to the point where God (presuming for the moment that we can still use this word in a meaningful way) must be much greater than the pre-Copernicans ever imagined, while on the other hand man, in spite of the recent rapid expanse of his knowledge and technology, appears to have been reduced to an infinitesimal role in space.

This leads us to the second and even more drastic implication. In the ancient world view the sky or heaven was regarded as the dwelling-place of God. While we cannot be sure of the extent to which the ancients interpreted this symbolically rather than literally, it can be said that some at least, if not all, thought of the divine abode in fairly materialistic terms and certainly in space terms. Heaven was a definite place in space, for it was up in the sky. Pre-Copernican man most likely accepted as fact that if by some miracle one were enabled to climb high enough in the sky, one would eventually reach the divine heaven itself. The fact that we could all laugh so knowingly when the Russian astronaut announced on his return to earth that he saw no sign of God, only shows how far we have moved since the days of Copernicus.

But it serves to accentuate the great gap that exists between our world view and that of ancient man. Our earlier Christian forebears could think of God dwelling in the upper regions, which were themselves part of the created universe. The Bible itself describes heaven as part of the universe for it affirms that God made both heaven and earth. For pre-Copernican man, heaven was itself part of the space-time continuum, that is, it was part of the created physical universe even though it was inaccessible to man. But the Copernican revolution changed man’s attitude to the space which stretches out indefinitely in all directions from the earth. It has become accessible to him through the telescope and astrophysics. Man’s world, which was once restricted to the inhabited surface of the earth, has now incorporated the at present immeasurable third dimension of space. Heaven, as a divine dwelling-place has disappeared from this space-time continuum. If the word heaven is still to convey some meaningful content, then it must be interpreted in terms different from those of space.

But in turn the disappearance of the divine abode from the space universe has far-reaching implications for those foundation affirmations of the Christian Gospel known as the Resurrection and Ascension of Jesus Christ. From the end of the first century onwards the proclamation of the Christ risen and ascended came to be understood in something like the following terms: on Easter Day the crucified body of Jesus was restored to life by God, and came forth from the tomb, and appeared to men. The body of the risen Lord may not have been wholly identical with the pre-crucifixion body, for it could appear and disappear, and pass through closed doors. But it was so related to the previous body, that none of the latter remained in the tomb, for it was empty, and, according to certain reports, the risen Christ ate and drank with his disciples just as he had before his death. After appearing to them for a period of forty days, this risen Jesus ascended to the dwelling-place of God in the heavens above, there to sit at the right hand of God. Christians hopefully looked to the day when from that same heaven this Jesus would descend in all his glory and establish his permanent Kingdom on earth.

Now this version of the Resurrection and Ascension excited awe and wonder in the minds and hearts of those who heard it, but at least it was meaningful and even to a certain degree reasonable within the ancient world view. The idea of a physical body from this earth being raised to the heavenly sphere above did not appear impossible, even if it rarely happened. The Old Testament told stories of how Enoch and Elijah had made similar ascensions. But the disappearance of this kind of heaven from our space universe according to our contemporary world view removes this version of the Resurrection and the Ascension from the miraculous to the meaningless. It is interesting to note that the need for reinterpretation of these foundation affirmations first showed itself to be necessary in the account of the Ascension, for it was at this point that the implications of our world view first became obvious. Only later was it recognized that one cannot consistently offer some kind of spiritual interpretation to the Ascension and at the same time think of the Resurrection in physical terms.

Of course many attempts have been made to reconcile the traditional account of the Resurrection and Ascension to our world view, but no amount of manipulation of detail will really achieve this. The three-decker world view of ancient man, and the contemporary space universe which stems from Copernicus and Galileo are so different from each other, that every aspect of the Christian faith on which cosmology impinges must be radically reinterpreted.

There is no indication that these particular implications of the Copernican revolution were foreseen in the seventeenth century, or the opposition of ecclesiastical authority may have been even more violent. Even today, some three hundred years later, devout Christians find some of them hard to adjust to. The College of Cardinals refuted the views of Copernicus on what appeared then to be very sound reasoning. They were the guardians of the body of Christian teaching, and this incorporated knowledge which, as they thought, had been communicated to man by God Himself, and consequently all future discoveries by man were bound to conform to the truth already received. We have seen that this view of divine revelation has had to be surrendered; it was the new world view among other things, which made this necessary and perhaps, as yet, we are only at the beginning of all the implications of the new space world to which Copernicus and Galileo introduced us.

Chapter 2: The New View of the Bible

We have just seen that the theologian can no longer appeal to divine revelation with the sure confidence he once felt. While this may be conceded with regard to Christian doctrine in a general way, more yet needs to be said about the Bible, for Christians have regarded it as the focal point of revelation. If there is no special revelation, what is the origin of these ‘holy’ books, and how are they to be understood?

All students of theology know that in the last hundred years nothing less than a complete revolution has occurred in our understanding of the Bible. At the Reformation, and for some time later, all Christians had reasonable grounds for assuming that in the Bible they had ready access to a body of infallible knowledge which had been miraculously revealed in ancient times by direct inspiration from God. It was confidently held by both Jew and Christian that the first five books of the Old Testament had been dictated by God to Moses at Mount Sinai. It was assumed, almost without question, that the Gospel writers had faithfully delivered an accurate account of the words and deeds of Jesus.

It was inevitable that the scientific method of study should come to be applied to the Bible, and the beginnings of this were contemporaneous with the rise of experimental science. It led first to the scientific study of biblical manuscripts, known as Textual Criticism, in an attempt to establish the original text. For all the original writings have long since disappeared, and what we have left are copies of copies of copies . . . in which a large number of minor changes have occurred, mostly because of unintended mistakes when the books were copied by hand.

Once the textual critic has made the best possible reconstruction of the original Hebrew or Greek text, the biblical scholar then uses the scientific method to study the origin and content of each book of the Bible, and this was long known as Higher Criticism. He sets out to answer the following questions:

(i) What type of literature is this?

(ii) Who wrote this book?

(iii) Have any additions been made to it since?

(iv) To whom was it written?

(v) When was it written, and when were the additions made?

(vi) What did it mean to the author and his intended readers?

At the Reformation the scientific study of the Bible was in its infancy, for biblical scholars then had neither the tools nor the information adequately to examine the many traditions of authorship and date which had grown up. One of the first men to set the scientific study of the Bible on its feet was Johann David Michaelis (1717-91), a professor and prodigious scholar of Göttingen, who became a legend in his own lifetime. He wrote Introduction to the New Testament, in which he showed that if one accepts the ancient view that it is apostolic authorship which is the guarantee of divine inspiration, then Mark, Luke, Acts, Hebrews, James and Jude must stand on a lower level than the rest of the New Testament. It was Herbert Marsh (1757-1839), Professor of Divinity at Cambridge, who introduced the work of Michaelis into England, and who taught that Christian faith was not dependent upon a doctrine of the verbal inspiration of Holy Scripture. The then Bishop of Oxford condemned Marsh’s work as "derogating from the character of the sacred books, and injurious to Christianity as fostering a spirit of skepticism".

J. G. Eichhorn (1752-1827), a student of Michaelis, has been called ‘the founder of modern Old Testament criticism’. He too was a phenomenal and versatile scholar, who in 1783 completed his most famous work, Introduction to the Old Testament, and by 1814 had also written an Introduction to the New Testament. He seems to have been the first to apply systematically to the whole of the Bible the methods of Higher Criticism, a term which he himself used. From that time onwards the term ‘Introduction’ has been used technically to describe a book which studies the origin, authorship, date and subsequent literary history of the biblical books.

The English-speaking public first learned of what was going on, through the publication in 86o of Essays and Reviews by seven Anglican scholars, six of them clergymen. One of the most debated items was an essay by Benjamin Jowett (1817-93), Master of Balliol College, Oxford, and Professor of Greek, on "The Interpretation of Scripture" in which he pleaded that the Bible should be "interpreted like any other book", maintaining that when this is done, "the Bible will still remain unlike any other book". "Any true doctrine of inspiration", he wrote, "must conform to all well-ascertained facts of history or of science." In another essay C. W. Goodwin showed that the Mosaic account of world origins could in no way be reconciled with the conclusions of science and that the popular assumption "that the Bible, bearing the stamp of Divine authority, must be complete, perfect and unimpeachable in all its parts" could not be substantiated in the light of the host of difficulties to which it gave rise.

The book caused a great stir. A petition signed by eight thousand clergymen and addressed to the Archbishop of Canterbury asked the Bishops to take judicial proceedings against the authors. As a result, two of the contributors were suspended from office, but on appeal to the Privy Council were reinstated. The two Archbishops registered their dissent from this reversal. Then followed a renewed wave of panic. Within a few weeks eleven thousand clergymen signed a protest and one hundred and thirty-seven thousand lay-members signed an address of thanks to the Archbishops in appreciation of their recorded dissent.

In 1862 J. W. Colenso (1814-83), Bishop of Natal, published The Pentateuch and the Book of Joshua Critically examined in which he challenged the Mosaic authorship and the historical accuracy of these books. The storm of protest resulted in his being excommunicated and deposed from office, though he too was reinstated on appeal to the Privy Council. Such examples give an idea of the ferocity of theological debate which surrounded the revolution in Biblical studies. It continued until the turn of the century and several great scholars were deposed from their academic posts.

W. Robertson Smith (1846- 94) lost his chair of Old Testament studies in Aberdeen because of articles he contributed to the Encyclopaedia Britannica. But by the beginning of this century the new approach to the Bible had won the day in all major theological institutions of the Protestant world.

The first important result of this scientific study has been the realization that the books of the Bible were not written and published in the way a modern book is. There was no such thing as copyright, and the original author had no further control over his writing once it was out of his hand. He who legally possessed the manuscript was free to add to it or modify it if he felt led to do so. Most books of the Old Testament and some of the New Testament were not originally written in the form in which we now have them, nor was each written necessarily by one person only. In the book of Isaiah, for example, no more than about twenty chapters come from the eighth century prophet of that name, a substantial section comes from an unknown prophet of the Babylonian exile in the sixth century, some of the later chapters come from the fifth century, and a few may be as late as the fourth century BC.

The authorship of the books has proved a very difficult problem. Scientific inquiry has shown that many of the old traditions about authorship are almost certainly false. In such cases it is usually impossible for us to learn anything definite about the identity of the real author, who in the meantime has disappeared into oblivion. We are not able to specify with confidence the author of any one of the thirty-nine books of the Old Testament, though some of the oracles of the books of the prophets originated in the mouths of the prophets there named. Luke may be the only Gospel writer whom we can actually name. There has always been a tendency to attribute stories and books to men who are already famous. It was this which caused the composite narrative of Israel’s origins to be attributed to Moses, the Psalms to David, and the Epistle to the Hebrews to Paul. But though we can name fewer of the human authors of the books of the Bible than tradition thought was possible, we can on the other hand be much more definite in saying that they all had human authors. And because of this fact they reflect at many points the limited knowledge, the now outmoded conceptions, and even the personal prejudices, which were commonly held at the time of their origin.

Writing is a form of communication, and this is a process which involves two parties, a writer and his expected readers. Because there is less definiteness about the identity of the reader than there is of the author, it is a question too easily overlooked. If we are to reach an adequate understanding of the Biblical literature, the next question we must ask about each book is "To whom was it addressed?", or "For whom was it intended ?" Though this sort of question cannot be answered with any great detail, as indeed it cannot be in the case of many books written today, yet even general answers are important when they deal with literature that is as old as the Bible.

The first answer that we can confidently give is that the biblical authors were writing first and foremost for the men of their own day. In some cases they were committing to writing material which already existed in oral form; in some cases they copied and adapted already existing written material; in some cases they were composing new material. But the very languages in which they wrote indicate that they were writing for men of their own time, who shared that language, and what is more important, who shared the faith which prompted them to write their own particular witness to it. There is little justification for the view held quite commonly, even if unconsciously, that the Bible consists of timeless oracles which can be equally well understood by men of all generations. Some books admittedly were of a more general character and were not tied so definitely to a particular age; one has only to note how the Psalms have been used and treasured by so many different generations. But the prophets quite definitely were addressing their fellow Israelites of their own day, and Paul was writing to particular churches about the particular problems that were besetting them.

Now if it is true that the biblical writers were writing primarily for the men of their own day, then we shall understand what they intended to communicate only by studying their words and statements within that original context to which these belong. We have all become aware of the errors we commit by quoting a verse of scripture out of context, but we have rarely appreciated how far-reaching this principle can be. To be properly understood, a verse must not only be studied in the context of the chapter and book within which it stands, but also within the social and historical context of the time when it was written, and within the personal context of the attitudes and intentions which joined the writer to his readers. The older a book is, and the more removed it is from the environment with which we are familiar, the more important this issue becomes, if we are going to deal faithfully with the words of the writer.

When the scientific study of the Bible became the storm-center of attention in the late nineteenth century, many Christians probably consoled themselves with the thought, "It is only the Old Testament after all. We still have an absolutely reliable New Testament, and that is the essential part of the Bible for the Christian." But, of course, the New Testament was being subjected to the same kind of scientific examination. While the conclusions may not have appeared so revolutionary as with the Old Testament to begin with, they were destined to become so in the end. We now know that the Gospels were not the first New Testament books to be written, but came after Paul’s Epistles. The earliest Gospel, that of Mark, was written thirty-five to forty years after the ministry and death of Jesus; those of Luke and Matthew, both of which copied sections word for word out of Mark, were written between 80 and 90 AD.; and John’s Gospel, which has quite a different style and approach, was probably written just before the turn of the century. Indeed it is likely that by the time the Gospels began to appear, not one of the original twelve disciples of Jesus was living. Actually that is probably one of the reasons why they began to appear.

These are but some examples of the problems raised and the conclusions we are led to, as soon as we ask, "When were the books of the Bible written?" Let us now turn to the question, "Why were they written?" One thing we can say with some certainty is that they were not written by their authors with any conscious intention of their being included in the Bible. On the other hand, each writer or editor did have some clear intention of his own in doing what he did, though this varied quite a bit, depending upon whether it was Amos proclaiming a divine oracle to Israel, an unknown disciple collecting his master’s oracles, a priest writing down and interpreting ancient traditions, Paul writing a letter to encourage a newly founded church, or the fourth evangelist writing, as he said, "that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in his name".

Now what did the community of Israel (and later the Christian Church) believe itself to be doing in gathering together these books and eventually giving them the title of Holy Scripture? First and foremost it was setting the stamp of its authority upon what it regarded as the written record of what God had said and done through His servants in time past. Once it received this authority, the Bible became in some sense regulative for the life and faith of the community thereafter.

But the church has mostly regarded the Bible as something more than historical records, and that is why they were called Holy Scriptures -- they had in some sense come from God. It is fairly clear what gave rise to this conviction. The Pentateuch included the record of the priestly instructions or teaching which were believed to have come directly from God through the priest, and the books of the Prophets contained the oracles which God had spoken directly to Israel through the mouth of the prophets. In the same way in the New Testament the Gospels recorded the words and acts of Jesus the Son of God.

The sense of holiness, which attached to these portions of the Bible, came to be associated with the whole, and it is only natural, as the centuries passed by, that men should come to look upon those ancient books with an increasing sense of reverence. It is further understandable that in this process the term ‘Word of God’, which originally could be applied quite aptly to the priestly instruction and prophetic oracle, should come to be used of the Bible, as a whole. This trend to increased veneration for the Holy Scriptures reached its peak in seventeenth century Protestantism, at which point the human origins of the Bible were almost completely overshadowed by the sense of their divine origin, and hence of their absolute infallibility at all points.

Since that time, for reasons partly mentioned above, the nature and role of the Bible has come to be seen in what is surely a more balanced perspective. This has unfortunately meant in the eyes of many that it has become for them a fallen idol. But according to the Bible itself, this is exactly what should happen to idols. That trend in the church which sought to turn the Bible into an infallible oracle was in fact a form of idolatry.

The more balanced perspective means that we accept the Bible for what it is, and that we do not try to turn it into what it is not. It means that it is not the Bible which comes under judgment, but various views, doctrines and attitudes about the Bible. The Bible cannot be changed, but the way we think about it can and must change. There is a sense in which the terms ‘inerrancy’, ‘divine inspiration’ and ‘the Word of God in written form’ each referred to something which is still true, but if we are going to retain these terms, we shall need to append to them so much explanation of what we mean by them, that it is better to seek fresh terms altogether. F. W. Farrar wrote in 1886, "Whoever was the first dogmatist to make the terms ‘the Bible’ and ‘the Word of God’ synonymous rendered to the cause of truth and of religion an immense disservice."

The Bible is indispensable to the Christian, for in being the only authoritative records of the origin of the faith, they become the norm for Christian faith and practice for all time. But how in practice are they to be appealed to as the norm? It is here that we must remember that both books and people are all set in a particular historical context and they cannot be properly understood in abstraction from that context. The context of the Bible is now the ancient past and the Bible is essentially a collection of voices from the past. If we are to understand these voices, we must put ourselves as far as possible into these people’s historical setting and read their words through their spectacles and with their presuppositions. Having absorbed from their witness all we can, we must then interpret the substance or spirit of their witness into the context, presuppositions and thought forms of our own day.

All this means that the study and final interpretation of the Bible becomes a very skilled task. That is why Biblical scholars, theologians and ministers of the Word are necessary. The passing of time is removing us even further away from the historical context of the Bible, and so making it more difficult for the ordinary reader to have a full appreciation of what is written there. The honest reader has admitted this for a long time about many of the books of Bible, such as the prophets, the Epistles and Revelation. But while the ordinary Bible reader is increasingly dependent upon the work of the scholar, it is also true that the fruits of that scholarship are more readily available to him today than ever before.

When the aids of modern scholarship are brought to bear upon the Bible, and its own historical context is reconstructed as the stage setting, then the Bible once again becomes alive. Those voices from the past speak in living, ringing tones, because for those of us whose very being has been molded in one way or another by the Christian heritage, they are the voices of our own past who address us. To the extent that we are enabled to share with them in the crises and victories which they witnessed in their own day, the God of history, who spoke to them, then speaks His Word to us today. It is the relevant Word in the context of life which is always the Word of God that shall stand for ever.

Chapter 1:<I> </I>The New Source of Knowledge

As soon as one begins to think about the basic issues of human existence, one is faced with the question of where to turn to find a trustworthy guide. What is the source of true knowledge? How do we go about increasing our knowledge and finding the answers to our basic questions? Through most of Christian history the Christian has for this purpose turned to the authoritative teaching of the church, and this included the Bible. It was confidently claimed by the church that Christian doctrine provided clear and final answers to the basic questions of life, and by the time of the Middle Ages these had been built into an impressive and unified body of knowledge.

The church’s confidence in her teaching rested upon the belief that the body of knowledge, of which she was the appointed guardian, had been revealed by God through the chosen prophets and apostles of ancient times and especially through Jesus, the Son of God. Because this knowledge came from God, it was absolute and final. Nothing could ever contradict it, and man by himself had no way of finding it out for himself. All men were thus dependent upon the heritage of divine revelation which the church preserved from generation to generation.

This understanding of the source of true knowledge was the Christian version of an almost universal attitude in the ancient world. Man has a strong conservative element in him, for it is his ability to conserve and hand on the heritage from the past that has made possible the evolution of man. The ancient human civilizations gradually developed by the conserving and handing on of the knowledge and practices which had proved themselves in the past.

Man’s sense of security was closely bound up with the knowledge and patterns of behaviour he inherited from the past. The known way, however unsatisfactory, was always safer than the unknown way. Of course, even in ancient society there was a small amount of change and development going on all the time, but it was so slow that to man himself it was almost imperceptible. If there was any rapid change, it was due to a calamity of a destructive kind, such as war or plague. So change was commonly thought of as evil, and something to be feared.

This in turn led to the commonly-held belief that the golden age of human society lay in the past, and hence true knowledge was to be gained by searching for the best that past ages had bequeathed. That knowledge which had been inherited from time immemorial was readily reverenced as being of divine origin, and was incomparable with anything that could be discovered in the present. Ancient man did not expect any of his contemporaries to surpass the great teachers of the past, and he was greatly suspicious of anything that was new. He expected to find truth in that which was already stamped with the authority of the ages.

While this veneration of the past and suspicion of the new is by no means absent in our world today, it is no longer the dominant attitude of modern man concerning the source of true knowledge. We live in a period of rapid changes of all kinds, and we have come to accept change, development and progress as part of the order of things. We are used to seeing the ‘old’ being quickly superseded by the ‘new’, whether it is the automobile, the text-book, the clothing fashion or the scientific theory.

Admittedly, in the area of religious faith and morals we have been rather slower to discard the old in favour of the new, for this is the aspect of human life in which conservatism has always been most strongly entrenched, for the very good reason that man looks to this area of life more than any other for his stability and security. But only small groups of religious devotees try to be consistent in their conservatism, by rigidly adhering say, to the horse and cart, Sabbath observance, the castor-oil cure and the Authorized Version. The large majority of Christians have been ready to welcome the new knowledge in such things as medical science, agriculture etc., even if they have preferred to retain the orthodox religious doctrines.

This modern reversal of the relative values of the old and the new is itself quite new in man’s cultural history, and that which has brought it about is the success which has attended the rise of the scientific method in the last few centuries. Our world today does not expect to find the answers to its basic questions by poring over the books of the ancient past. It looks rather to painstaking research and the assiduous application of scientific principles as the way to reach sound knowledge. We shall look briefly at some of the steps which have led to this situation, slowly at first, and in the last hundred years with breathtaking acceleration.

Perhaps Roger Bacon (1214-94) may be named as the morning-star of that adventurous questioning and experimentation which forms the basis of modern science. He was a monk, educated in the two great universities of Oxford and Paris. He undertook study and research over a wide range of subjects and is said to have spent over two thousand pounds (a large fortune in those days) on books, instruments and apparatus. He wrote that "the surest method of extirpating all heresies, and of destroying the Kingdom of Antichrist, and of establishing true religion in the hearts of men, is by perfecting a true system of natural philosophy". For this reason he freely criticized the ignorance of his fellow clerics, and went so far as to write to the Pope urging the desirability of a reformation in the church. It is not surprising that the church authorities found his presence far from comfortable, and so, for two periods totaling twenty-four years in all, he was held in close confinement in a Franciscan monastery. To appreciate the full worth of Bacon we must remember the relative ignorance which prevailed at this time. After his death his books were suppressed, though not destroyed. He is to be seen as a courageous pioneer of the attitude of free inquiry, experiment and observation.

The rise of modern science is chiefly to be seen in the Renaissance, which revived the study of the culture of ancient Greece and Rome. This in itself was an example of the ancient attitude of looking to the past for the apprehension of true knowledge, and we must freely admit that the legacy of the ancient world had a great deal to offer to fifteenth-century Europe, so much so that classical studies have remained the core of a liberal cultural education until the twentieth century.

Along with the Greek and Latin classics, the study of the Bible was revived and this contributed largely to the Reformation. It must be frankly recognized that the Bible is such a remarkable collection of books that it could more than hold its own with any set of books that had appeared up until the sixteenth century. It is not at all surprising that its rediscovery, and the acceleration of popular interest in it, made possible by the invention of printing and the growth of literacy, should have come to Europe like a fresh and powerful wind. The Bible is of such a quality that a sixteenth-century person had good reason to assume it to be thoroughly reliable upon every aspect of human existence with which it dealt.

The revival of the study of the classics of the ancient world was destined to lead to the emergence of the modern world by reawakening that inquiring mind that marked at least some of the early Greeks. Their passion for asking questions had found no place in the dogmatic theological system into which Christianity had developed, and their concern with the natural forces of the physical world found little encouragement in a Christianity which had increasingly turned men’s attention away from this tangible world, towards an unseen supernatural world.

Within two centuries, men of the caliber of Copernicus, Leonardo da Vinci, Kepler, Galileo, Gilbert, Newton and Boyle all arose to cut a path which enabled the modern world to emerge from the ancient one. Some words of Gilbert will serve to pin-point the essential new element in the pursuit of knowledge that was destined to bring increasing success. William Gilbert had a brilliant career at Cambridge in mathematics, and followed this by the study of medicine. He became personal physician to Queen Elizabeth. His most famous treatise is on the magnet, and here he sets out the experimental basis to scientific inquiry, "In the discovery of secrets and in the investigation of the hidden causes of things, clear proofs are afforded by trustworthy experiments rather than by probable guesses and opinions of ordinary professors and philosophers."

What is commonly referred to as ‘modern science’, heralded by Bacon in the thirteenth century, came to birth in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. It questioned traditional statements and beliefs and it established the experimental method. Such arguments as "the Church teaches -- " were destined to become less and less sufficient to win immediate acceptance for the ideas they prefaced The validity of traditions was questioned; general beliefs about physical phenomena were subjected to various tests.

In studying any particular field the scientist theoretically commences by accepting nothing as known with certainty. For convenience the scientific method can be set out as four basic steps, although the degree to which they can be applied in this over-simple form depends very much on the field of study. They are:

  1. the observing, measuring and gathering of all relevant data;

(ii) the ordering of the data according to whatever plan or system the data lead to most naturally, and the examination of the relationships linking them together;

(iii) the seeking of the simplest hypothesis to explain the causal relationships in the data and associated phenomena.

(iv) the testing of the hypothesis by such experiments as the data may readily lend themselves to.

With Gilbert these steps led to some remarkable results in the examination of the magnet. In the case of Galileo, the telescope was the very instrument which made experimentation possible in a way which could confirm or upset his theories of the heavenly bodies.

This method of testing traditional knowledge and of extending the content of human knowledge seems all very obvious to us today for we have become adjusted to it. We witness the marvels of technology which have been made possible through the advances of science, and we wait hopefully for the results of continuing research, for example in the cancer field. But in the sixteenth century this was a novel method of finding new knowledge. It was regarded with great suspicion, particularly when it dared to question established truth, and in the popular mind it could not be clearly distinguished from the practices of the magician, which were rightly frowned upon by the church. After all, the science of chemistry did evolve out of alchemy, i.e. the attempt to turn simple metals into gold; and the science of astronomy developed out of astrology, i.e. the attempt to read human destiny from the movement of the stars.

Only slowly did the scientific approach of questioning and testing win wider acceptance, and in doing so it set in motion the greatest revolution in human civilization that there has ever been. It was inevitable that it should lead to conflict with the conservative elements in the powerful organization of the church. Yet this conflict has often been exaggerated and misinterpreted. Bruno, it is true, lost his life in the conflict, but at a time when thousands were martyred or killed in religious wars for either the Catholic or Protestant cause, this was negligible in comparison. Nor should the conflict be interpreted as the believing church versus the non-believing scientist. The first great exponents of the emerging scientific approach were all churchmen and some of them were clerics. The conflict was between something new, pioneered by a small minority, and the status quo, defended by the large majority, who naturally had control of the powerful ecclesiastical machinery, and who felt themselves clearly supported by tradition, common-sense and above all divine revelation. Over the next three centuries the conservative forces at one strategic point after another were forced to surrender something which previously they had claimed to be essential to the Christian scheme of things. This conservatism had the effect eventually of causing some to abandon allegiance to the church altogether, so that then the conflict did sometimes appear to be one of the churchman versus the scientist.

The grounds on which church authorities resisted the advancing claims of the sciences were in the first place simply that they were at variance with the accepted teachings handed down from ancient times. Knowledge received from the ancient world was more likely to be true than some newfangled notion that had not been heard of before. But the church in particular thought that its teaching possessed incontestable authority because it had been received in ancient times by divine revelation. It was confidently claimed that in the distant past, God had revealed the truth on various issues to men like Moses, the prophets, the apostles and above all through Jesus Christ His Son, and it was therefore impossible for puny man to pit his intelligence against God, and further it was blasphemous even to question truth that was divinely revealed.

In the Middle Ages the theologians had divided the universe into two areas of experience, the natural and supernatural. While both were under the control of God, He was thought to be most distinctively known through the supernatural. At any time He chose, He could over-rule the normal processes of the natural world by His supernatural power. Not only then could God upset the experiments of the scientists, should He so choose, but also He had already delivered to the church a supernatural body of knowledge to which the experimental scientist as such had no counter.

Because the Reformation had split the Western church just prior to this time, the appeal to supernatural revelation took somewhat different forms. The Church of Rome attributed divine authority to the general corpus of Catholic teaching, which included the Bible, traditions of long standing, and the belief that the Divine Head of the church would not allow His church to err on important issues. In the Protestant churches the appeal to divine revelation was focussed on the Bible alone. By the seventeenth century this had developed into a very rigid doctrine which regarded not simply the general sense, but the very text, words, vowels and punctuation to have been supernaturally revealed by God and preserved from all error. To confound the claim of the natural scientist it was sufficient for the Catholic to hear, "The Church teaches otherwise", and for the Protestant to read in the Bible that God in His holy word had spoken differently.

But the truths being discovered by experimental science could not be silenced. They gradually grew in their power of conviction. It became necessary for Christian teachers to reduce the boldness of their claims and to readjust their thinking to the slowly emerging body of new human knowledge being brought to light by the developing sciences. This process of readjustment is still going on, and several examples will appear in the succeeding chapters. But at this point we must confine our attention to the problem that we still have to wrestle with, when we have to make a judgment between the relative merits of the knowledge inherited from the past and the new knowledge that may be gained through the developing sciences and the related fields of study, especially when these two sources appear to be in conflict with one another. In particular we must ask in what sense the church can still speak of divine revelation.

The traditional attitude which venerated the past was gradually undermined, as experimental science proved itself and opened up the door to a new world which seemed to contain unlimited possibilities. Advancing knowledge, new ideas, fresh discoveries began to accelerate the speed of change. Men were now becoming aware of change in a way that was new to them, for it was making itself evident within a man’s lifetime. This has been particularly true in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. It supplied the impetus which set the modern study of history on its feet.

As the developing sciences began to get into their stride, and that brings us into the last hundred years, there was a tendency for them, having refuted so much of what Christian orthodoxy took for granted, to establish their own form of dogmatism. The scientific hypothesis which stood repeated tests came to be regarded as the scientific law, and this soon attracted to itself an absoluteness and an authority which it was thought nothing could shake. Lesser men than the great scientists too readily assumed that all new knowledge must be made to fit the ‘scientific’ dogma, just as earlier it was expected to fit the ecclesiastical dogma. Indeed it has not been unknown for scientists to resist new theories on grounds which derived from the new form of dogmatism rather than those which belonged to experimental science. Something of a new cult, that has been called ‘scientism’, developed in the popular mind, which reflected how popular opinion had switched its allegiance from Christian orthodoxy to science and technology. The preface "The church teaches . . ." and "The Bible says . . ." came to be replaced by "Science teaches . . .", "The scientists have shown that . . ."

But dogmatism no more befits the findings of science than it does the proclamations of theology. The scientific method of study and inquiry, important and indeed essential as it is to us, does not lead us to absoluteness of truth any more than the supposed divine revelation did. All our human knowledge is subject to further correction and change, and must be adhered to with some degree of tentativeness however small. It may be likened to the frozen surface of a pond. Just because it will support a skater one day, there is no guarantee that it will do so the next. Just as fresh atmospheric conditions mean that the ice surface must first be tested afresh to see if it can be judged as safe, so our knowledge and working conclusions must be continually re-tested in the light of fresh data to see if we may still trust ourselves to them.

There is no source to which we can turn for knowledge which is absolute, final and unchangeable. Neither the alleged source of divine revelation, nor modern science can make this claim about the knowledge to which they lead us. What we call knowledge is our own human evaluation of what we have observed, studied, experienced, or received, and it is subject to the limitations which our own reason and language impose. We find ourselves in the paradoxical situation today where we know much more than ancient man about ourselves and our world, and yet we acknowledge we do not have the degree of certainty which often he believed he possessed. In the Middle Ages it was possible for a university man to feel himself a master of the whole body of knowledge. Today the horizons of human knowledge and inquiry are vastly extended and are still rapidly accelerating. One man can master only a tiny segment. We depend more and more upon the integrity of others for the conclusions we must accept in trust from them. Man, as a race, but not man, as an individual, is today in possession of a staggering body of reasonably reliable knowledge. Yet with all our advance, new problems have taken the place of those we have temporarily solved, new and previously unknown vistas lie beyond the peaks we have scaled, the limits of the universe seem further away than ever, and the purpose and destiny of man are not one whit clearer.

This is the situation in which we must now make some tentative judgment about the relative merits of the old and the new. Our judgment should be this -- that it is false to set them over against one another as exclusive alternatives. We need both the insights of the old and the fresh truth from the new.

We must welcome the rise of the scientific method as the most valuable tool we know for the testing of existing knowledge, and for the widening of our horizon of knowledge. It has brought about a revolution in the human situation which no thinking man can ignore. Yet we must remember that the so-called laws in the natural sciences, and all knowledge derived from this new source are always subject to modification, change and replacement. The genuine scientist is always ready to question and re-test his most assured conclusions. All his knowledge is to be held with some degree of tentativeness for it is subject to reinterpretation in the light of fresh evidence.

But neither can we afford to ignore the Christian heritage which formed the basis of the European culture from which the new world and its scientific methods developed. Many things from the past may now be seen to be irrelevant, inadequate or even wrong, but not all that made the Christian heritage what it was, is false by any means and it is for this reason we are still concerned with it. Admittedly the appeal to divine revelation can no longer be made with the sure confidence that was once associated with it, for on too many occasions it has proved a faulty argument. Indeed the very term ‘revelation’ is today being strongly challenged as an essential term of Christian theology. In any case the Christian theologian has had to recognize that such knowledge as he may have inherited is no more absolute or final than that of the scientist. All forms of knowledge in which Christian faith and experience has expressed itself must also be continually subject to re-examination and reformulation. This is why theology at the present time is in the most fluid state it has been since the period of Christian origins.

Thus the commonly cited conflict of science versus religion, or divine revelation versus empirical science is misleading. Certainly there have been conflicts, but there have also been conflicts between different religious doctrines on the one hand and between opposing scientific theories on the other. The theologian, it is true, has had to surrender any claim to an infallible source of divine revelation, but the scientist has had to learn to resist the temptation of thinking that that is exactly what he has stumbled upon. If the word ‘revelation’ can still be used, then it may apply equally well to those unexpected flashes of insight received in any field of study. Theologian and scientist find that they have much more in common than is often realized. They must both be men of faith, imagination, and integrity, who are ever ready to reformulate the truths which are their chief concern in the light of that new evidence that each new day may bring. Yet they both believe that (here is a constancy in the truth of man and his world that they seek to understand more clearly. The theologian describes that constancy by saying that God is the ultimate source of all truth and God is one: He is the same yesterday, today and for ever.

Preface

This book came to be written in the following way. In 1965 the Editor of our church paper The Outlook invited me to write an article to be published prior to Reformation Day on Sunday October 31. This article duly appeared under the title, "Is a New Reformation Possible ?" I drew attention to the Bishop of Woolwich’s new paperback called The New Reformation, and attempted to sketch the way in which the contemporary world is challenging much of traditional Christianity. As a result, one or two people were stimulated to write to the Editor, either in alarm or in appreciation.

Then he invited me to write something for the Easter, 1966 edition of The Outlook. In an article entitled, "What does the Resurrection Mean ?" I attempted to sketch the difficulties of relating the Resurrection narratives of the New Testament to the kind of world in which we live, and to show that, in spite of these, the Resurrection faith of the church can still have meaning for men who have left behind the world view of the first century. As a focal point for discussion I referred to some words of Professor R. Gregor Smith in his recent book Secular Christianity.

This article brought forth a deluge of letters to the Editor, and as it was clear that many people had been disturbed, I set about writing four articles dealing with the main points being raised. These had to do with the differences between knowledge and faith, an examination of the evidence for the historicity of the empty tomb story, the relationship of the church to her doctrinal standards and the way in which the Bible is to be understood and interpreted. These articles appeared in The Outlook, and were later in the year published separately in booklet form.

So far the scope of the discussion and interest aroused was just what one might have expected. It was the next stage in the debate which took most of us by surprise. In two or three of the courts of the Presbyterian Church of New Zealand, there was strong concern expressed about the orthodoxy of the ‘Resurrection’ article, and as soon as this came to the notice of the press, the debate left the confines of Presbyterian Church circles and became a public issue. The original article was published in full in the leading newspapers of the four main cities. Then for some weeks here in New Zealand, ‘Resurrection’ became the subject of newspaper editorials, magazine articles, radio talks and TV interviews. I received hundreds of letters, some written in anger, some in appreciation. They came from a wide cross-section of the community.

Two things became dear. There is a tremendous gap in viewpoint and understanding between academic theology and popular Christian thought. Some of the issues that theological students have been discussing all this century are hardly known at all by large numbers of devout church members. Secondly it showed that in a day when it is often assumed that theological questions are no longer of general interest, a vital theological problem can become the main subject of conversation in tea-breaks at factory and office, and can lead Christians and non-Christians to talk seriously and honestly with one another about the Christian faith, and often for the first time in years.

It was suggested to me that I should write something at greater length about the issues raised. Although it appeared to me that there was already a wide variety of popular books available for those interested, I accepted the challenge to set down the nature of our present predicament as I see it. The three parts into which this book falls may also be regarded as an attempt to answer these three questions: "Where are we?" "How did we get here?" "Where do we go from here?"

This book is not intended for professional theologians, and should any such chance upon it, I must beg their indulgence for the many generalizations into which I have been forced in the interests of simplicity. Of course, it is not even written by a professional systematic theologian; my own special interest in the Old Testament no doubt shows through all too plainly. The people I am mainly addressing are those who are genuinely wanting to know what to make of Christianity in this new and fast-changing world. Some of them will be looking at the church from within, and some from without. Some perhaps will be sixth-formers, who, after being schooled in the basic sciences, are wondering what to make of this new world in which they must live.

After only a few chapters had been written a second public debate broke out. I had been invited to preach at the opening service of the Victoria University of Wellington. I preached on some words of Ecclesiastes, "he has put eternity into man’s mind, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end". The press quoted from this sermon the one sentence, "Man has no immortal soul", and immediately there was a public controversy in which Christians and non-Christians vigorously aired their various views about life after death. The original sermon was published in full in several newspapers. The subject of immortality was discussed on radio and TV and this time the public interest spread to Australia.

While no one really wants to upset the peace, or sow seeds of distress let alone bitterness, it is clear that, if the Christian message is going to be heard in today’s world, it must be related to that world, and it is also clear that, if Christians speak about the faith with openness and honesty, there are many more than is often imagined, who are ready to listen.

This book was nearly finished when there was published posthumously a booklet written by my former teacher and late colleague, Professor H. H. Rex, entitled, Did Jesus rise from the dead? In it he makes this comment, "we live on this side of a rupture which divides the whole history of mankind into two sections; the one extending from the cavemen to the men of the Renaissance, and the other covering this post-Cartesian world of ours. On the surface it may seem preposterous to lump the caveman, Plato, and Michelangelo into one class, and the rest of us into another. And yet, so long as we fail to appreciate the full magnitude of this fact, we have understood very little about the nature of the modern secular world." It is the nature of this rupture which I have been trying to outline in what follows, along with the reasons for it, and the effect of it on the Christian faith.

In the writing of this book I have been greatly indebted to my wife for her never-failing encouragement. The Very Rev. J. M. Bates, the Rev. D. R. Madill, the Rev. T. M. Corkill and my colleague the Rev. Professor F. W. R. Nichol, I wish to thank warmly for their kindness in reading the manuscript and for the suggestions they have made. I am grateful to Mrs. T. Gordon for her care and patience in the typing of the whole manuscript.

Knox College, Lloyd Geering

October 1967

Foreword by the Very Rev. J.M. Bates

Has the Christian Church anything relevant to say to modern man in a secular age.?

It has. But before its message can be clearly perceived there are some mists of ignorance and misunderstanding to be blown away. The object of this book is to contribute to this process. In particular there are two points on which the Church today must be ready to speak plainly. One concerns the Bible; the other the relation of the Christian faith to the secular scientific outlook.

Far too few Christians understand the real nature of the Bible, yet some knowledge of how it came to be the book we now have in our hands is a necessity for the whole Church in this modern age. For the most part, at the present time the pulpit and the pew are not on the same wavelength in this matter, and it is high time they were.

Then, too, we have to face the question whether there can be any point of contact between the Christian view of things, and the way educated men look at the world and its history today. This book maintains that there can be, and that the message and meaning of Christ crucified applies to human beings, as such, whatever their circumstances. The secularity of the modern world has not made Christ irrelevant; on the contrary it has made his relevance more evident.

This is a book for thinking people to read and talk about.

-- J. M. Bates, former Moderator of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church of New Zealand

Chapter 9: The Significance of Bonhoeffer

THE MAN

Difficulty surrounds the attempt to evaluate Bonhoeffer. His influence grows and students will continue to turn to him and find inspiration in his germinal thinking. That part of the revolution in theology due to his influence is still with us. But at this point in history we can draw some ideas together about the man’s significance. Time will tell whether this particular assessment stands true or not.

A beginning point is the man himself. More attention has been paid to his thought and ideas rather than to the man. Perhaps interest in the man himself will heighten since the definitive work of Eberhard Bethge, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, is now available in English translation. Both Bethge’s work, and the excellent biography by Mary Bosanquet, The Life and Death of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, give a clear vision of the man, his style of life, his activity, his hopes, fears, aspirations, faith, and loyalty to Jesus Christ. Bonhoeffer is an inspiring example of a committed Christian. He deserves to be enrolled among the greater adventurers of faith. From the first, he set his face against tyranny in Germany. He was among the first to raise his voice against the monstrous persecution of the Jews when they were forbidden to hold public office or to enter or remain in the ministry of the church. The frustrating opposition to the political church in Germany, the clandestine seminary life operated by the Confessing Church, the intrigue and plotting designed to rid Germany of a demonic rule make him a fascinating person.

A vivid contrast could be drawn between Bonhoeffer and Sir Thomas More. Could Hollywood do with Bonhoeffer what it did with More in A Man for All Seasons? More was a man who stood by his principles in an issue unworthy of martyrdom, while Bonhoeffer stood to the death for a purpose worthy of giving one’s life — to rid a country of tyranny. With the English translation of Eberhard Bethge’s definitive biography, the story of Bonhoeffer the man should take on renewed interest.

Protestantism does not have its roll of canonical saints, but Bonhoeffer deserves to be enrolled in the memory as a hero of faith. Bonhoeffer has a modernity that past adventurers of faith do not. We rationalize by saying that life in previous generations and cultures may have been much easier. But here within a technological culture saturated with militarism, hate, and divided peoples is a man familiar with it all and who has something to say about it.

The person of Bonhoeffer assumes an interest for us in contrast to the other great theologians of his time. Karl Barth, Emil Brunner, and Rudolf Bultmann are interesting for their theologies. We have not focused any great attention upon their personal lives. If we dismiss them for their theology or accept them for it, we are not drawn to them as persons. With Bonhoeffer it is different. We may also say that many other pastors died in prison in Germany during the church struggle, but we have not been caught up with them. Bonhoeffer is different. He is a rare soul who had many interests, a rare being who came to grips with theology, and the kind of person who would die for his convictions in an often used word of this generation we could say that Bonhoeffer had charisma. We are drawn to him, his person, and we want to know something of him as well as his theology.

THE THEOLOGICAL REVOLUTION

Bonhoeffer is important for his contribution to theology in general. Some new moods in theology that appeared in the early sixties appealed to Bonhoeffer’s later works, particularly the Letters and Papers from Prison. The work of Bishop John A. T. Robinson made use of Bonhoeffer’s terminology. The upheaval in theology following Robinson was notoriously journalistic, if not profound. We have already raised questions about the legitimacy of Robinson’s use of Bonhoeffer’s ideas.1

Like Robinson, the radical God-is-dead movement appealed to the "later" Bonhoeffer for the use of some of his terms and operated under the guise of fulfilling Bonhoeffer’s proposal for a "religionless Christianity." The attempt to build a theology without the God-hypothesis has not been widely accepted as a positive contribution to theology. Certainly great value has come in asking for the meaning and content of the word "God," and the answers have been various. But for Bonhoeffer, Jesus Christ filled the meaning of the word "God."

Disciples often show ambivalent trends in their interpretations of their master, and this is true of Bonhoeffer’s. There is the radical stream seen in various degrees in Robinson, Hamilton, Van Buren, and others, who have appealed predominantly to the themes and suggestions in the popular Letters and Papers from Prison, or perhaps the "later Bonhoeffer." The opposite trend appeals to the "whole Bonhoeffer," to his complete works. Falling into this category are Bethge (the close friend of Bonhoeffer and perhaps the man who understands Bonhoeffer best of all), Moltmann, Godsey, Phillips, and others. These interpreters defend Bonhoeffer against being misused for "radical" interpretations. Bethge, because of his influence and importance in this camp, will probably remain the most important interpreter.

Questions might be raised about the restlessness within the church and the self-criticism it has directed against itself in the last decade. The grass roots always furnishes a certain amount of discontent with denominational structures, barren religiosity, and "status-quoism" within the religious culture. Although no sociological gauge to determine cause-effect relations can be established, Bonhoeffer has helped the church’s leadership to become critically aware of shortcomings. The popularity of Bonhoeffer in the early sixties among the religiously oriented college student, the reading layman, and the perceptive pastor give some basis for a commentary on the criticism of the church in that decade and which still spills over into this one.

Whatever the ultimate outcome for Bonhoeffer in the history of doctrine and the history of the modern church, his name is certainly one of influence. Because of his ability to say things in a new and pungent way there has been ignited an exciting exchange of ideas in theological literature.

AREAS OF SIGNIFICANCE

In specific areas of theology Bonhoeffer has made several contributions.

1. The church has an important place in Bonhoeffer’s thought. If objectivity were a reality in theological circles, Bonhoeffer’s view could conceivably serve as a basis for an ecumenical "happening" between the institutional idea found in Roman Catholicism and the "called out" emphasis of Protestantism. Objectivity could perhaps lead Roman Catholic theologians to see that formal institutionalism is alien to the New Testament while voluntaristic Protestants might see that the mystical body of Christ has "space" in the world and is where Jesus Christ is to be found. But since theological wheels move slowly and reevaluation of respective positions seldom occur, the possibilities of Bonhoeffer’s position may have to wait for a long time.

Yet the church has possibilities as it contemplates the ecumenical movement. Roman Catholicism is attracted to Bonhoeffer in a way that it is not attracted to the other names of Protestant theology. We have already mentioned that one of the better works on Bonhoeffer comes from a Roman Catholic. William Kuhns’ remarks that Bonhoeffer’s works "speak directly to a Catholic as a Catholic, despite their emergence from the most vital sources in Protestant tradition."2 The Cost of Discipleship is akin to works on the spiritual life found in Roman Catholic seminaries and monasteries. Life Together "is recognized by many Catholics as the finest available description of living Christian community."3 Ethics has an appeal for it speaks of a "Church which Catholics can recognize and understand. . ."4

Kuhns delineates five areas in Bonhoeffer’s thought that hold particular fascination for Roman Catholics: (1) "his idea of community" (the church is the community where Christ is); (2) "his search for the true nature of the Church’s authority" (in the concrete situations facing the church who can speak with authority about wrong or right?); (3) "his anthropology" (what is it to be Christian in the modern world? and Bonhoeffer’s answer of holy worldliness, or his hope of full manhood); (4) "his effort to forge a dynamic definition of the Church" (the church is defined in relationship to the world); and (5) "his struggle toward a deeply relevant Christology" (the Incarnation becomes the central issue of all facets of theology) .5

The Protestant likewise shares a deep interest in these five areas. Bonhoeffer attracts Protestants because of his deep respect for the authority of Scripture in determining the idea of the Christian community, the meaning of the Incarnation, the role of the church in the modern world and in the life of modern man come of age.

Bonhoeffer did not forge a union of churches. He criticized the ecumenical movement for its inadequate theology of ecumenicity, and this criticism remains valid today. Certainly there has been no strong theology of ecumenicity set forth that refrains from watering down doctrine and swallowing up weaker denominations. The attitude of the so-called "ecumaniac" (somebody else’s church is better than mine) was not the attitude of Bonhoeffer.

Bonhoeffer sought one important thing from the ecumenical movement: a strong denunciation of the apostate church under Hitler’s control. He felt that the church should speak out on vital issues, even chancing that it may be wrong. This problem is unsolved in American ecumenicity even when the National Council of Churches attempts to speak in behalf of its members "Who speaks for the churches?" is today an open question.

2. Ethics remains as a powerful work confronting modern man. We have yet to reckon with many of its features. His treatment of the role of the Christian in the modern world will probably be a continuing inspiration for many people if the prestige of the church continues to diminish.

The new beginning point of ethics is yet to be reckoned with by philosophical ethics. Nicolas Berdyaev declared that ethics should teach a man how to die, but philosophical ethics is not concerned with this. Bonhoeffer answers Berdyaev’s question by declaring ethics’ goal for man as being restored to unity with God. In restoration man becomes real man. Right and wrong are not products of man’s mind but are found only in the will of God.

Certain emphases in Ethics are important because of the frequent world-denying attitude among Protestants. This is God’s world, created and sustained by him, and man is to accept it with all its hopes and Possibilities as a gift of God. The narrow view of some Protestants that the world is the devil’s is to insult God’s grace and redemptive act. Bonhoeffer calls us to regain an appreciation for God’s world and redemption in it.

The mandates — labor, marriage, government and the church — reaffirm the goodness and purpose of life. Could Bonhoeffer be read seriously by some of our deeply discontented students and others, he would no doubt beckon them to a better understanding of themselves in their split world.

3. About the spiritual life, Bonhoeffer has remarkable insights. Those who knew Bonhoeffer found that the development of the spiritual life as he outlined it was not exciting to begin with, but as time passed they reassessed their views and came to regard their six-month stay in the Finkenwalde experiment as a high point of their lives. Bonhoeffer is highly relevant to the needs of modern man in his pursuit of spiritual growth. Here is the source of the church’s possibility of being the church in the world, the Christian being the man for other men.

In the context of the Finkenwalde experiment, there may be found some possibilities of rethinking contemporary theological education. The modern seminary can be a time-killer in the seminarian’s drive for a degree in theology (his union card) without ever helping him to become a theologian or develop a discipline of the spiritual life. The experiment at Finkenwalde produced a host of pastors who stood firm in their purpose to minister in any way possible. The modern seminary turns out men who have not developed a spiritual existence within themselves and are dedicated to serving where the money is the highest. They drift from church to church, lacking vital spirituality, unable to build the churches up because they are empty. The practical and professional emphasis in the seminary has been in the direction of administration, social work, and ecclesiastical machinery rather than the practical discipline of the spiritual life.

4. Christology stands out as the central feature in Bonhoeffer. With one stroke he cut down the controversies centering around the Incarnation. We are concerned with Who, not how in the Incarnation. This is true in the church also. We cannot ask the question "How is Christ in the church?" but "Who speaks to us in the church?" Doctrine was important for Bonhoeffer. He was not a narrow doctrinaire creature who could not allow doctrinal differences, but eventually doctrine became a life and death issue in the Confessing Church’s struggle in Germany. The issue was as important as the survival of the church. Doctrine is that important. Christology is the center of doctrine. His controversial utterance, "Whoever knowingly separates himself from the Confessing Church in Germany separates himself from salvation," stressed both the importance of doctrine as well as the idea that separation from the church is equal to cutting oneself off from Christ who exists in the church.

5. We would like to conclude this work with a word about Bonhoeffer’s face toward the future. Bonhoeffer knew that the evil of Hitler would one day meet its end and there must be people who were ready for picking up the pieces. The. church must be ready to minister. In 1942, Bonhoeffer met a few friends at Werder, and among them was Werner von Haeften, who was a staff lieutenant of the Army High Command. In discussing ,his duties, he asked of Bonhoeffer: "Shall I shoot? I can get inside the Fuhrer’s headquarters with my revolver. I know where and when the conferences take place. I can get access."6

Bonhoeffer discussed this issue at length. He noted that ridding the world of Hitler was not everything, for worse could come by others; but it should accomplish something; there should be "a change of circumstances, of the government. . . the ‘thereafter’ had to be so carefully prepared."7

In conversations with others, plans were made on various levels for the possible reconstruction of Germany. Earlier Bonhoeffer had returned from the safety of New York to give himself the right to participate in that reconstruction along with his suffering people. His look toward the future only expressed his continuing faith in God who was incarnated in Jesus Christ and the church. In these troubled times plans need to be made for the future.

 

NOTES:

1. See chapter I.

2. Kuhns, op. cit., p. 258.

3. Ibid.

4. Ibid.

5. Ibid., pp. 260ff.

6. I Knew Dietrich Bonhoeffer, p. 191.

7. Ibid.

Chapter 8: The Church Against Religion

The book that made Bonhoeffer a question mark to many minds was Letters and Papers from Prison.1 Those provocative phrases like "religionless Christianity," "the God who forsakes us," "Jesus as the man for others," and similar phrases appear in context that are only in outline form without full contextual meanings. This is the work that has captivated the interests of diverse theologians who quote it in bolstering their own theological stance.

Will we ever understand the "later" Bonhoeffer? Can we hope to when we have received only tenuous expressions? Are we justified in taking a few personal letters and basing a new imposing theological structure on them? These are some of the problems and implications of the last words of Bonhoeffer. This work is also difficult to treat because of its miscellaneous nature. At best we can only hope to treat some of the rich themes found herein.

The first piece is an essay composed around 1942-43, prior to his arrest, entitled "After Ten Years." It begins with a treatment of the intolerable times during which people had lost their moorings. Evil appeared in the guise of light and all traditional ethical concepts were thrown into conflict. Bonhoeffer discusses the reactions of reasonable people (who are disappointed by the unreasonableness of both sides in the world’s conflicts); conscience-guided people (who are deceived by the seductive disguises of evil and accept a salved rather than clear conscience); moral fanatics (who get trapped in nonessentials); duty-guided people (who never achieve a direct hit on evil); the person claiming freedom (who performs evil to ward off a greater evil); and the man of private virtuousness (who plays the game of self-deception or becomes a great hypocrite).2 Is there a better answer? Who can stand fast? Only the man who sacrifices all in "exclusive allegiance to God." "Where are such people?" Bonhoeffer asks.

People of civil courage were lacking, for the Germans had learned the virtue of obedience. But submissiveness can be exploited, and in the case of Nazi Germany it was. Responsibility is related to free men. Obedience goes only so far. Bonhoeffer then turns to various categories of relationships and attitudes.

1. Success. Success achieved by good means can be overlooked ethically, but success by means of evil poses problems. Success tends to make good out of evil in history. Bonhoeffer regarded himself as responsibly involved in learning how the coming generation is to live in a new culture.

2. Folly. Bonhoeffer regards folly as more devastating than evil. There is no reasoning with, protesting against, or upending the fool. He calls folly a sociological problem, called forth by violent displays of power which deprive men of their judgment. The only hope against folly is liberation, and the ultimate release is a responsible life before God. In the political arena, "what will really matter is whether those in power expect more from people’s folly than from their wisdom and independence of mind."3

3. Contempt for humanity will be rejected only if we realize that what we despise in others is never "entirely absent from ourselves."4

4. Immanent righteousness. Bonhoeffer says that evil carries the seeds of its own destruction. The world seems ordered in a way that the expedient act cannot be turned into a principle without suffering retribution. This affirmation leads Bonhoeffer to set forth some statements of faith on the sovereignty of God in history. God can bring good out of evil, and gives strength in times of distress. He hears our prayers and desires responsible action from us.

5. Confidence. Bonhoeffer writes that although betrayal is everywhere, trust and confidence are greater than ever imagined. In trust they placed their lives in the hands of others. Such trust is a rare blessing and a necessity against the background of mistrust in society.

6. The sense of quality. He takes a new look at equalitarian movements which destroy a sense of quality by destroying reserve. Socially this means a break with the "cult of the star" tradition in society and culturally it substitutes the book for the newspaper, leisure for frenzied activity, quality for quantity.

7. Sympathy. Bonhoeffer declares that sympathy arises with the imminence of danger. Christians are called to sympathy and action when others are in danger.

8. Suffering. In the past one could plan both his professional and his private life. But war makes both of these impossible. Life must be carried on living every day as if it is our last, and yet in faith and responsibility as though there is to be a great future. This is still a germane principle today.

9. Optimism. Pessimism is wiser than optimism, but optimism must not be impugned even though it is proven wrong many times. Optimism — in spite of the day of judgment — leads to building and hoping for a better world.

10. Insecurity and death. Both had been increasingly in Bonhoeffer’s mind as these ten years passed by. By accepting death, each new day of life becomes miraculous. His own death is prefigured in this descriptive statement: "It is we ourselves, and not outward circumstances, who make death what it can be, a death freely and voluntarily accepted."5

The essay concludes with the question: "Are we still of any use?" Much evil has been devised and experienced. The need is for "plain, honest, straightforward men." Is it possible to regain this stance after the evils of intrigue war, and cynicism? 6 Bonhoeffer does not answer his question.

The next section consists of Bonhoeffer’s letters to his parents. In them we are shown the closeness of his family feeling rather than any profound theological views. Bonhoeffer read a great deal in prison. The subject matter was broad: newspapers, novels, history, philosophy, theology, music, and the Bible. He memorized verses of Scripture each day, especially psalms. Much of his reading was in nineteenth-century writing; he had great admiration for its literary output. The letters to his parents reflect his occasional sickness, the growing problem of food, his gradual callousness to prison life, and the irritating desire to get out and on with important things.

While in prison he had occasion to write a wedding sermon for his niece and his close friend, Eberhard Bethge. The "Wedding Sermon from a Prison Cell" progresses in five statements: "God is guiding your marriage"; "God makes your marriage indissoluble"; "God establishes a rule of life by which you can live together in wedlock" (Col. 3:18, 19); "God has laid on marriage a blessing and a burden," that of children; "God gives you Christ as the foundation of your marriage."7 The sermon is characterized by a tenderness born of love for both participants in the wedding.

Letters and Papers from Prison also contains a report on prison life revealing the sadistic character of some of its guards, the injustice in treatment of prisoners, the inhumanity toward the less important prisoners, and the growing problem of food. The lack of air-raid protection was a prime source of anxiety for the 700 men in the prison. Bonhoeffer reflects on his embarrassment at preferred treatment when his position and family connections were learned.

The major part of Letters and Papers from Prison contains letters written to a friend, Eberhard Bethge. This section contains the enigmatic phrases so prominent in Bonhoeffer devotees. In dealing with them we are confronted with the issue of interpretation. How much weight should be given to fragmentary letters in which the author freely acknowledges that he has not worked out his ideas?8 Can Bonhoeffer’s criticism of religion mean that he was bordering on the loss of his faith? Even if this were true, should one give heavy weight to utterances born out of the frustration of a Nazi prison? What is to be made of these statements?

The following items seem to have provoked the most interest. First, the problem of religion. The letter of April 30, 1944, contains Bonhoeffer’s confession of the radical emphasis that his thinking had taken. He wrote, "We are moving towards a completely religionless time; people as they are now simply cannot be religious any more."9 Freedom from religion is compared to freedom from the rite of circumcision in the time of Paul the apostle. Religion is opposed to being a Christian. Bonhoeffer regards Barth’s criticism of religion as his greatest contribution, although Barth does not go far enough.

Religion uses God as the lazy way of explaining the unexplainable. God is on the edge of human boundaries. But what happens when the human boundaries are pushed back and an alternate explanation is given for the phenomena once credited to God? God is pushed further from human existence.10 Countering this, Bonhoeffer insists that God must be met in the center of life rather than on the periphery. He must be found in man’s strength, not his weakness; in life’s goodness, not in death and guilt alone.11 Bonhoeffer’s question boils down to this: If by science man solves the problems of hunger and disease, if by education the problems of guilt, if by psychiatry the ills of the mind, if man’s other needs can be met, what room is left for God? Bonhoeffer rejects the "God of the gaps" for the Incarnate Christ who is in the world, not as an idea, but as Person. "We are to find God in what we know, not in what we do not know; God wants us to realize his presence, not in unsolved problems but in those that are solved."12

Second, the problem of the "world come of age." This term relates to religion’s use of the idea of God. Through science, man has discarded God’s role in the universe. Questions can be answered "without recourse to the ‘working hypothesis’ called ‘God’."13 Christian apologetics, however, has continued in its retreat, hoping to take refuge in "ultimate questions" such as death, guilt, and meaning in life. Thus religion’s approach to man "come of age" has been to bring him to a sense of guilt and despair to make him sense his need for Christ. This "methodist" approach is labeled as pointless (it puts an adult back into adolescence), ignoble (it exploits man’s weakness), and un-Christian ("it confuses Christ with one particular stage in man’s religiousness").14

If we cannot roll back the advances of science, the conclusions of philosophers, the desertion of religion by ethics and politics, where does this leave God? Bonhoeffer answers:

So our coming of age leads us to a true recognition of our situation before God. God would have us know that we must live as men who manage our lives without him. The God who is with us is the God who forsakes us (Mark 15:34). The God who lets us live in the world without the working hypothesis of God is the God before whom we stand continually. Before God and with God we live without God. God lets himself be pushed out of the world on to the cross.15

To be of age is not to be without God. Dropping the religious context means that God as a hypothesis is substituted by living with God in a relationship. God the omnipotent is not known; God the Incarnate is known as he comes to us in his weakness and suffering.

Third, the problem of Christian worldliness — a seeming contradiction in terms according to traditional use — or secularism. Bonhoeffer defines "this-worldliness" as: living unreservedly in life’s duties, problems, successes and failures, experiences and perplexities. In so doing we throw ourselves completely into the arms of God, taking seriously, not our own sufferings, but those of God in the world — watching with Christ in Gethsemane. That I think is faith, that is metanoia; and that is how one becomes a man and a Christian (cf. Jer. 45!).16

Taking one’s duties and sufferings seriously means that we must exist for others. Jesus is "the man for others," and this type of relationship holds true for Christians. Bonhoeffer partially questions the theme of The Cost of Discipleship when it involves trying to make something of oneself, a stereotyped saint, sinner, or churchman.17 Instead, both the Christian and the church exist for others. The church’s role is to "tell men of every calling what it means to live in Christ, to exist for others."18

Bonhoeffer’s attitude toward worldliness seems to arise out of his interest in the thirteenth century.19 Drawing upon his musical ability in counterpoint he described life as a polyphony in which earthly love is the counterpoint to the fixed melody of loving God with all one’s heart. Polyphony may be something of a theodicy in which pain and joy are parts of the total life structure just as bass fulfills the symmetry demanded by the treble.20

Bonhoeffer’s understanding of worldliness shows again in his discussion of the central emphasis in Christianity. There is real danger in calling Christianity a "redemption from cares, distress, fears, and longings, from sin and death, in a better world beyond the grave."21 Christianity is this-worldly for it sends a "man back to his life on earth in a wholly new way. . ."22 Bonhoeffer believed that if the world come of age was to be won to Christ it must be encountered in its strength, not its weaknesses.23

In searching for meaning and application of his thought, Bonhoeffer plays down the traditional idea of repentance as a religious act, concerned with one’s own needs, and stresses rather the positive side of "allowing oneself to be caught up into the way of Jesus Christ."24 Traditional acts of repentance are deplored as mere religious method. In this context he declares that the godlessness of the world perhaps makes it closer to God. Then the thought breaks off. We question whether repentance can be written off so freely. True, its positive emphasis is more important, for repentance without faith would lead to self .inflicted despair. But Jesus began and ended his ministry, according to Luke’s Gospel, with the message that man should repent.

Fourth, the problem of the church in transition. In May of 1944, Bonhoeffer wrote some thoughts on the baptism of Dietrich Wilhelm Rudiger Bethge, his godson.25 Although participating in a rite that was outdated as far as modernity would have it, Bonhoeffer speaks of the future church that will have changed greatly. Its language will be nonreligious "as was Jesus’ language."26 By August of 1944, he urged the church to "come out of its stagnation."27 There must be genuine conversation between the church and the world. In this same letter he proposed an outline for a future book. Chapter three would urge the church to give its wealth away to the needy; clergy should live on free-will offerings or support themselves by secular work. The church’s work is to explain what it means to live in Christ. It should have a courageous word against the vices of pride and encouragement for the elements of the good life. Unfortunately the proposed book was never completed.

What are we to make of the thoughts expressed so vividly in these intimate letters to a friend? It would be unwise to be dogmatic. Can we say that Bonhoeffer qualifies his early works in which he speaks of the visible church as the body of Christ? Does his disappointment with the national church in Germany and then later the weaknesses of the Confessing Church force him to modify his idea of the church’s form? Is there not really a trend toward a noninstitutional but more biblical concept of the church?

Rather than venture too far in a direction that is filled with uncertainty, we had best stop in our conjecture and perhaps plead for the same from others who would interpret these phrases with a content that Bonhoeffer never intended. We may conclude that whatever else one may think about Bonhoeffer, he advocated Christianity without religion but certainly not Christianity without God. The nearness of God Incarnate is apparent in his last words before death: "This is the end — for me the beginning of life."28

In our final assessment of Bonhoeffer we will try to fit Letters and Papers from Prison into the overall picture of the man and his influence on the contemporary theological mind. To that evaluation we now turn.

NOTES:

1. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Letters and Papers from Prison, ed. Eberhard Bethge, trans. Reginald Fuller and others, rev. ed. (New York: The Macmillan Co., 1967).

2. Ibid., pp. 1-4. There is a similar treatment in chapter III of Ethics.

3. Ibid., p. 9.

4. Ibid.

5. Ibid., p. 17.

6. Ibid.

7. Ibid., pp. 25-32.

8. Cf. pp. 139, 184.

9. Ibid., p. 139.

10. Ibid., p. 142.

11. Ibid.

12. Ibid., p. 164.

13. Ibid., p. 168.

14. Ibid., p. 169.

15. Ibid., p. 188.

16. Ibid., p. 193.

17. Ibid., p. 193.

18. Ibid., p.204.19. Cf. ibid., p. 123.

20. Ibid., pp. 150-51.

21. Ibid., p. 176.

22. Ibid.

23. Ibid., pp. 180-83.

24. Ibid., p. 190.

25. Ibid., pp. 153-62.

26. Ibid., p. 161.

27. Ibid., p. 200.

28. Ibid., p. 225.

Chapter 7: The Church Confronting the World

Bonhoeffer’s last book was his Ethics. Intended as lectures for Edinburgh, it was considered by Bonhoeffer as his lifework, his real contribution to theology, and was composed between 1940 and 1943. The work was uncompleted and some of the chapters break off abruptly. However, it is a work of great significance, termed by some as his most significant.1 The book has been arranged in its present order by Eberhard Bethge.

THE UNIQUENESS OF CHRISTIAN ETHICS

The first chapter is foundational. It poses a chasm between Christian ethics and other ethical systems. Other ethical systems aim at coming to a knowledge of good and evil but say nothing about why this should be a particular emphasis in ethics. Christian ethics has a knowledge of why other ethical systems concentrate on the knowledge of good and evil, but rejects this goal as being a false one. The goal of Christian ethics is the new man, the restored man, the reconciled man, the man in God. When other ethical systems set up the goal of a knowledge of good and evil, man immediately becomes the arbiter of that knowledge and assumes the role of God who alone has this knowledge. "Instead of knowing only the God who is good to him and instead of knowing all things in Him, he now knows himself as the origin of good and evil."2

The man’s rebellion brings disunion with God, with man, and within himself. The disunion is manifest in shame. Shame is man’s ineffaceable recollection of his estrangement from the origin.3 Because of it he needs a mask. It reflects man’s disunion with God and with others, whereas conscience is the sign of man’s disunion with himself."4 Although conscience may pretend to be many things, even the voice of God, it is limited in its functional relationship of judging what has been done in the way of wrong. It holds no positive command.

Bonhoeffer treats the Pharisee as the example of disunited man interested in the knowledge of right and wrong, often in a legalistic sense, but who, because of this question, never saw the real issue at hand: unity with God. Passing judgment on the actions of others became the Pharisee’s favorite pastime, and brought disunion. Thus the demand of Jesus is to overcome the knowledge of good and evil for the union with God that brings union within man and among men. "No longer knowing good and evil, but knowing Christ as origin and as reconciliation, man will know all."5 The teachings of Jesus forbid man to "know" or approve of his own actions, or his own goodness. Although this is psychologically impossible as far as knowledge or epistemology6 goes, it is religiously possible in knowing one’s reconciliation with God. Thus the religious life is not a matter of rules, "but solely of the living will of God."7 Man’s chief concern in all situations is to discern what God’s will is. This must continue through life. Bonhoeffer does not imply direct inspiration of God’s will, but he indicates that "if a man asks God humbly God will give him certain knowledge of His will."8

Accepting the given of the known will of God, what shall be the response? Intellectual acceptance? Reflective evaluation? No, the will of God is for doing. In the power of Jesus Christ man is to do the will of God. Bonhoeffer warns against a false doing of the will of God as well as a false hearing. This occurs when one does the law and his motive springs from his knowledge of good and evil rather than his union with God.

Man in union with God is marked by the stamp of love. Love takes its definition from the person Jesus Christ. "Love is the reconciliation of man with God in Jesus Christ."9 In the act of reconciliation man is brought to unity, to union with God, and his relation to his neighbor is transformed. In unity his splitness is overcome.

The development of Bonhoeffer’s thought at this point is cut off by an unfinished chapter. Thus we turn to the next which is also unfinished.

In "The Church and the World" Bonhoeffer got no further than eight pages, but two important and related ideas are set forth. The first concerns the non-Christian defense of an appeal to human values — such as reason, justice, culture — by those who share these values with the Christian but are not related to Christ. Bonhoeffer maintains that these values are homeless orphans who, in the hour of real danger, return to their real father. Jesus Christ is the origin of these values and "it is only under His protection" that they can survive.10 The justification of these values is related to him alone. The second concern is that of Christ and good people. Too little has been said about the good man in Christianity. Much has been preached about the bad. Bonhoeffer declares that Christ belongs to both. Bonhoeffer felt that a theology of the good man should be further developed. A note showing the incompleteness of the chapter indicated something of his feeling: "‘I feel about it more or less like this: the good citizen, too, is humble before God, but the vicious man really lives only by grace.’"11 It is regrettable that this thought was not developed further.

The third essay is on ethics as formation. Bonhoeffer assesses the various theoretical possibilities for solving the ethical dilemmas: reason (it fails to see "the depths of evil or the depths of the holy"); fanaticism (it loses sight of the totality of evil in concentrating upon a particular evil); conscience (it becomes timid and uncertain because of the disguises of evil and degenerates to a soothed conscience to avoid despair); duty (commanded duty does not have the free responsibility of the doer back of it); freedom (it often involves one in doing bad to ward off a worse event); private virtuousness (one must remain blind to evils around him and be self-deceived) .12

These options may have been useful in past days, but new weapons are needed today. The answer Bonhoeffer proposes is the will of God. The will of God is completely exposed in Jesus Christ; it becomes near and personal in him. The wise man is one who sees beyond principles, rules, and other screens to the reality of God. In Jesus Christ the world is reconciled, not overthrown. In the Incarnation where God becomes man, God wishes for man to become true man, for Jesus is not merely a man, but is man.

The fact of reconciliation poses problems for the world especially when it views life from the standpoint of success. Success covers the multitude of sins and guilt. Bonhoeffer poses three attitudes toward success: (1) it is identified with good; (2) "only good is successful"; (3) "all success comes of wickedness."13 Jesus Christ stands as a rejection of success as the standard. Success or failure mean nothing in place of "willing acceptance of God’s judgment."14

The concern of the Christian is with conformation — the forming of Christ in the believer — not with programs, plans, and the practical as opposed to doctrinal concerns. Conformation is achieved by Christ, not by "efforts ‘to become like Jesus.’"15 Bonhoeffer’s perennial theme of the church being Christ incarnate is renewed here. The church is where Christ takes form. This keeps the church from being merely a religious organization, although the church may be tempted to lapse in this direction.

Thus, the beginning point of Christian ethics is not rules but the form of Christ and "formation of the Church in conformity with the form of Christ."16 Thus there is no abstract ethic for all practices, but rather the question of whether "my action is at this moment helping my neighbour to become a man before God."17 In this Christ affirms reality. Christian ethics becomes concerned with the concrete rather than the abstract, the universal principle. Christ becomes man, not a universal principle. Ethics is also beyond casuistry which becomes unmanageable. Reconciliation makes possible the existence of man as real man. Christian ethics begins with this departure point: how can Christ be formed in our world?

To give a background of the problem of forming Christ in the world, Bonhoeffer analyzes the historical antecedents of present secular trends. The breakup of Christian unity in the Reformation paved the way for the emancipation of reason and its deification. Science, once subservient, now assumes mastery over nature. Technology must be acknowledged as a heritage of Western history, and modern man has the problem of coming to grips with it rather than turning backwards to pretechnical times. Following the emancipation of reason came "the discovery of the Rights of Man."18 Attention is focused on the masses who have "now come of age."19 This in turn is related to nationalism. Bonhoeffer sees in the French Revolution the results of these movements. The machine becomes man’s enemy, freedom and the rights of the masses lead to the guillotine, and nationalism engenders war. Nihilism stands at the end. Two things stand against the "plunge into the void": (1) a renewal of faith and (2) the "restrainer" (see 2 Thess. 2:7), which is the state’s order and power.20 The church’s work is to prove to its worldly witnesses that its Lord is living.

Bonhoeffer’s solution involves a turning back. For technology, nationalism, and reason, there is no turning back to a prestate of things. But there is a turning back by recognizing "the guilt incurred towards Christ."21 Only in turning to Christ will man turn to his true self. The church is the place where the recognition of guilt takes place. Unlike the moralist, however, there is no searching for the guilty party, but only receiving forgiveness for the guilt. Bonhoeffer’s list of confessed faults touches upon the problems of our age and all ages.22

If the church would be transformed and have Christ formed in her, she must confess or lose her nature as the church of Christ. The renewal of the church is linked with the renewal of the Western world. Forgiveness, not the law of retribution, must be at work among the nations. The church holds the key to this in its confession of guilt.

Essay four is entitled, "The Last Things and the Things Before the Last," or put more briefly, the ultimate and the penultimate. The ultimate word, or last word, is that of justification by faith alone. Man stands before God in Christ on this basis, and only on this basis. Therefore religious methods, ethical rightness, and civic achievement are rejected as the foundation of right-standing in God’s presence. If justification by faith is the last word, does this mean that we must flee the world and radically reject it? Are we to live only by the ultimate? What is the place of the penultimate? What of our existence in the world as it stands before God? The seeming alternative to radical rejection of the w9rld is acceptance of it as a compromise position implying rejection of the ultimate. The two positions stand in opposition to one another.

Bonhoeffer finds the solution in Jesus Christ. The Incarnation shows God’s love for his work, the crucifixion shows his judgment upon the creature, and the resurrection indicates a new world to come. God’s becoming man means that man is called to be man, to. be himself, a penultimate in the light of the ultimate. The cross shows the penultimate nature of the world, meaning that man is not to be deified but to live before the judgment of the final. The resurrection does not annul life but makes it greater in the ultimate. Thus, "Christian life is participation in the encounter of Christ with the world." 23

The penultimate is functional, the ultimate is the goal. The ultimate justifies the penultimate in its existence, but not as something independent of the ultimate. The penultimate prepares the way for coming to Christ. Without the ultimate the penultimate will shatter. Bonhoeffer analyzes Western Christendom from this perspective. In the last two centuries the ultimate has been called into question and the penultimate — peace, order, justice, humanness — breaks down. If the penultimate is to be fortified and strengthened, then there "must be a more emphatic proclamation of the ultimate." 24

The penultimate concerns the natural as opposed to the supernatural. Bonhoeffer laments that the "natural" has been deleted from Protestantism because it has been opposed to grace, which is magnified. The natural is not the opposite of grace but of the unnatural. He argues that the gospel gives the basis for a recovery in Protestantism of the concept of the natural.25 The natural, after the Fall, directs man toward Christ; the unnatural directs him away from Christ. The natural is unorganized; it is simply there; the unnatural consists of organization and therefore perverts the natural. The natural is recognized by reason. Its content is the preservation of life. Although one might rebel against the natural, the natural will endure in the long run for it preserves life.

Bonhoeffer rejects natural life as an end in itself (vitalism) and life as a means to an end (mechanization) for a composite view of life as both an end and a means. In the first there is content for creaturehood, and in the second, participation in the kingdom of God. Related to life are rights and duties in that order. "God gives before He demands." The general formulation of rights is found in the principle "suum cuique, to each his own."26 Both the multiplicity and unity of rights are expressed in this principle. Bonhoeffer sees God as the defender of natural rights.

ETHICAL ISSUES

In application Bonhoeffer considers certain issues in the framework of natural rights. The first is bodily life which is innate; that is, we exist without a choice or will. Since there is life, and since at death all rights cease, the conclusion is reached that natural life should be free of "intentional injury, violation and killing."27 Because bodiliness is an end in itself, bodily joys can be justified; but being also a means, the body must not be content with pleasures alone.

In this section Bonhoeffer declares that because man’s life exists, he has a natural right to live. No one then has the right to take life arbitrarily. Euthanasia is morally wrong because it involves the arbitrary killing of innocent life. On the other hand, war is defended by Bonhoeffer because it is not arbitrary killing. War is more complex, because the soldier may be personally innocent but collectively guilty in a military attack upon a country.

Bonhoeffer argues for these and other positions below on the basis of a natural-life motif intermingled with Scripture proof. One might question why both are used. Why not divine revelation alone? Or, natural law alone? Both are used because he holds that God stands back of the natural and gives it meaning, while at the same time revelation is necessary for a precise understanding of God’s will.

He is weaker in dealing with suicide. Man differs from other creatures in that he can freely take his life. In suicide he attempts "to give a final human meaning to a life which has become humanly meaningless." 28 Bonhoeffer’s ground for declaring it wrong is not so much natural law as the fact of incurring God’s judgment of guilt. Suicide shows a lack of faith in God and in life’s possibilities.

Leading up to the issues of birth control and abortion he declares that marriage is a natural right of man rather than a religious or civil institution. It existed from the beginning of man before the development of these institutions. Marriage naturally includes the right of life to come into being. When conception has taken place, an abortive act is simply murder.29 Likewise birth control practiced perpetually as excluding life is a serious violation of man’s natural existence. Bonhoeffer hedges on sterilization when either intense passion is involved or disease, in which cases it might be medically necessary.

The last issue is bodily freedom which prohibits rape, slavery, and torture. Bonhoeffer began a section on the natural rights of the life of the mind, but this was left unfinished. A note left something of the outline to be followed which included a section on culture. It is regretted that we are bereft of this material.

WHAT IT MEANS TO BE REAL

The next essay, "Christ, Reality, and Good," is a further treatment in depth of the view that Christian ethics is not concerned with the knowledge of good and evil. He declares that the questions "How can I be good?" and "How can I do good?" are supplanted by a different question: "What is the will of God?" 30 The first two questions reduce the idea of good to an abstraction. Bonhoeffer’s question concerns ultimate reality, and although he presupposes faith, it makes ethics concrete and specific. The ultimate reality is seen in none other than Jesus Christ who is not an idea of good, or an abstraction. Consequently that aspect of ethical discourses given over to the question of motives and consequences not only divides man up in an arbitrary way but does not reflect the real, or God’s self-revelation. The real purpose of ethics is to participate in reality. In Christ this becomes actual.

If there is one ultimate reality, why do we think in terms of two spheres of nature and grace, sacred and profane, and other opposites? Bonhoeffer rejects the two antinomies because there is only one reality, God, who has become manifest in Christ and in the world.31 These antinomies that are reflected in Roman Catholic as well as post-Reformation thought are nonbiblical. There is no possibility of being a Christian outside of the world or outside of Christ. Even the kingdom of the devil does not support the two spheres, for "he must serve Christ even against his will."32 The world has been reconciled in Christ. To accept the two spheres is to neglect or reject this reconciliation.

Although the world may not recognize or acknowledge it, the world is related to Christ in the mandates of God: labor, marriage, government, and the church.33 The "word mandate refers more clearly, to a divinely imposed task rather than to a determination of being."34 The mandates are divine because of origin rather than in their nature as such. The realm of government attracts attention because Bonhoeffer was struggling with the Nazi encroachment in all areas of life. Government is not creative, but preserves and protects what is already created — that is, labor and marriage.

Obedience is owed the government because of Christ’s command. This is an implication of the mandate. But is there an exception to this command? How does Bonhoeffer harmonize obedience to the government with his involvement in an assassination plot? The exceptional situation of tyranny calling for an assassination attempt is not dealt with in a theoretical way by Bonhoeffer. The mandates provide normative rather than exceptional or extraordinary directions for the will of God, the base of the Christian ethic. In fulfilling all the mandates, one participates in reality.

The next essay, "History and Good," builds the concept of responsibility around the biblical self-assertion of Christ: "I am the Life." Life is a Who, not a What. True responsibility is the pledge of one’s life in a life and death way. Responsibility is "to and for God, to men and for men . . . for the sake of Jesus Christ."35 Responsibility rests both upon freedom and upon being bound to man and to God. Responsibility is also defined as "deputyship," acting in behalf of others. In Jesus, deputyship is assumed for the whole of humanity. For man, deputyship involves "surrender of one’s own life to the other man."36 Thus "only the selfless man lives."37

Responsibility is limited by the other man, who is also a responsible creature. Responsibility cannot be used to coerce another person to action. It is also limited in application. It does not lead to revolutionary action but to doing "what is necessary at the given place and with a due consideration of reality." 38 The direction that responsibility dictates depends upon the situation. Bonhoeffer gives us a situation ethic bound to reality (which is Christ); i.e., act in accordance with Christ.39 He rejects an absolute rule or law which must be imposed upon every situation. The so-called absolute good may be the very worst action possible. Action can be directed by the word of Jesus which is the interpretation of his life. Since Christ is no stranger to human reality, there is no arbitrary division between secular and Christian principles. Reality has been reconciled in Christ. To follow him is to have a meaningful word concerning actions in reality.

Although responsibility is a relation between persons, Bonhoeffer speaks of pertinence, the relation that man has with the world of things.40 First, one must keep in mind the divine origin of things. Things are for use. Second, each thing has "its own law of being." 41 Man must learn these laws, and responsible action means that he abides by the inherent laws of things, whether it be the state, the corporation, or human growth. The exception to the rule, the situation, is granted in the case of the necessita, the action required which cannot be made on the basis of the law of the being. War, for instance, would be the exception in the political area, or the necessity. But whether one abides by the law of the being or in freedom does the expedient, both actions stand before God who judges them. Guilt may be accepted in the knowledge that it can be forgiven.

If there is guilt, what of the conscience? Conscience will not permit one to take blame for the sake of another. The reason is that conscience seeks a unity with itself. With a loss of unity conscience indicts the self. The unity, in part, arises out of the ego’s desire to justify its action before God. Bonhoeffer’s answer to the divided conscience is self-denial and commitment to Jesus Christ who becomes "my conscience."42 In the surrender of the ego to God, conscience is set free from the law for a greater foundation — mercy in Jesus Christ. Thus Bonhoeffer could justify telling a lie to a murderer who asks if a pursued man is in his house. Reality and responsibility demand such. But the guilt of conscience will be found innocent in Christ in this action. In Christ, the conscience finds that the law is not the last word.

To offend the conscience and to have responsibility, there must be freedom. The freedom that one has may seem questionable in light of environment, law, culture, routine, and other factors, but Bonhoeffer insists that freedom and responsibility prevail "in the encounter with other people."43 Freedom and responsibility are not isolated from but are related to obedience. "Obedience without freedom is slavery; freedom without obedience is arbitrary self-will. Obedience restrains freedom; and freedom ennobles obedience."44

Where is the place of responsibility, freedom, and obedience? Rejecting the pseudo-Lutheran view which attempted to justify existence in this world as only being on a pilgrimage, Bonhoeffer now declares that a man "takes up his position against the world in the world; the calling is the place at which the call of Christ is answered, the place at which a man lives responsibly."45 "Vocation is responsibility and responsibility is a total response of the whole man to the whole of reality."46 Thus he declares that a pastor must be concerned for the whole church rather than merely for his own isolated flock. When a minister refused to raise his voice in the church struggle against the Nazis to defend other congregations, or to protest persecutions outside his congregation, his own flock was eventually lost.

Bonhoeffer is putting forth, a form of situationalism. One may have to break the law in order that the law be meaningfully fulfilled. War involves many subterfuges that peace, honesty, and integrity might prevail. But it is not an extreme form of situationalism that glosses over the means to achieving a worthy end. Even the means must be repented of, given the situation. This section was to be continued and an outline was preserved, but Bonhoeffer was never able to return to it.

THE MANDATES

The seventh essay, "The ‘Ethical’ and the ‘Christian, as a Theme," touches on the matter of authority for decision-making. Can one construct an ethical system applicable to all times and places? Are our decisions always of a moral nature, demanding a decision between right and wrong? Bonhoeffer answers that the ethic is not a book, a universal reference for all actions without exception. Neither can there be an ethicist who performs the same function. Indeed, ethical discourse is related to the concrete, the specific, the event in time and place. By the same token, one cannot take a positivistic view of ethical discourse and admit only that reality furnishes nothing beyond itself. The parallel situation is the position of a teaching church which demands submission to its precepts. This Bonhoeffer regards as substituting a religious positivism for an empirical positivism.

To avoid these opposites he proposes the "Commandment of God," which is "the total and concrete claim laid to man by the merciful and holy God in Jesus Christ."47 Embracing all of life it sets free as well as binds, but it is not a summary of all ethical principles to be applied by the individual. If the interpretation or application of the commandment is left to the individual it is no longer God’s commandment.

A commandment must be as concrete as life and as up-to-date as man’s life. Does God give specific directions by new revelations for each occasion? No, but God does confront man in the present historical situation by his command. In a concrete way God’s commandment in Christ comes to us "in the church, in the family, in labour and in government."48

The mandates embrace the whole of life. In them God has already commanded styles of living wherein there is freedom "from the anxiety and the uncertainty of decision."49 Mandates are different from ethical precepts, for the latter concentrate upon what is not permitted while mandates give positive instruction for the content of life. He asserts that in the mandates "life flows freely. It lets man eat, drink, sleep, work, rest and play. It does not interrupt him. It does not continually ask whether he ought to be sleeping, eating, working, or playing, or whether he has some more urgent duties." 50

Mandate is defined as "the concrete divine commission which has its foundation in the revelation of Christ and which is evidenced by Scripture; it is the legitimation and warrant for the execution of ,a definite divine commandment."51 He rejects the use of the terms "institution" (which implies divine sanction for any status quo), "estate" (too many new connotations which distort the original Reformation usage), and "office" (it is now secularized and associated with bureaucracy). He prefers the term "mandate" to express some of the original meanings of the rejected words. The commandment of God in Christ serves as the basis for the mandates. They are not the result of historical development, but are imposed from above. As a further line of explanation the mandates are "conjoined" with one another. No mandate has independence over the others.

Although the chapter is incomplete there is some treatment of the commandment of God in the church with reference to the other spheres, or mandates. Preaching and confession both express the commandment of God in the church. To stress one of these without the other is to deprive the church of a concrete ethic. The Protestant Church stresses preaching while the Roman Church stresses confession, or church worship. The Reformed Church is poverty-stricken in worship, liturgy, spiritual exercises, and discipline, while the Roman Church has neglected the proclamation of the Scripture.52

The church has a word for all of society, a single word of proclamation for both believer and unbeliever alike. This word is summed up in three phrases: (1) "Jesus Christ, the eternal Son with the Father for all eternity." This means that nothing exists apart from God, and that no created thing can be understood apart from Christ. The Incarnation means that God can now be found in human form, and therefore man is free to be man before God. Thus a "genuine worldliness" now becomes a possibility. (2) "Jesus Christ, the Crucified Reconciler." The cross sets us’ free from trying to deify the world, and calls us to believe that the world is already reconciled to God. Therefore it is possible to live a life in genuine worldliness, by allowing the world to be what it is before God.

(3) "Jesus Christ, the risen and ascended Lord." This means that Jesus Christ is Creator, Reconciler, and Redeemer. A Christonomy, a rule of Christ, replaces heteronomy and autonomy. Although Christ rules the church, the church does not rule the world. She never ceases being the church, but she cannot be more.53

A MISCELLANY OF ESSAYS

Part Two of Ethics contains an assortment of essays. The first has the formidable title, "The Doctrine of the Primus Usus Legis According to the Lutheran Symbolic Writings." Two basic issues are brought up: what is the relation of the law to the gospel, and what is the relation of the decalogue to natural law. Lutheran usage suggested that the primary use of the law relates to works, the secondary to the knowledge of sin, and the third to the fulfillment of the law and forgiveness. Bonhoeffer maintains that all three are included in proclamation. He identifies the decalogue with natural law known by reason. There cannot be a dichotomy between the decalogue and natural law. Similarly, there cannot be an arbitrary division between the law and the gospel.54 He notes, "There can be no Christian preaching of works without the preaching of the acknowledgment of sin and of the fulfilment of the law. And the law cannot be preached without the gospel."55

The second essay is on "Personal" and "Real" ethos. Bonhoeffer protests against the ethic of Dilschneider, Troeltsch, and Naumann, who regarded the Christian ethic as having little or nothing to say about the world’s institutional structures, i.e., state, economics, and science. For them the religious ethic was reduced to the practice of love within the world’s structures without having a mission of correction, improvement, and criticism of them. If their view is correct, Christian ethics would affect only about 10 percent of life. Bonhoeffer rejects these views because Christ created all things (including man, state, economy, nature, etc.), has reconciled all things, and the church is placed in the midst of the world where this message may be heard.

The rule of Christ makes it now possible for a genuine world order in these spheres to come about. True worldliness means that these institutions should become what they were meant to be in obedience to God. The state should actually be the state; it is not to rule over the church or be subject to the church or to any other alien law.

Bonhoeffer rejects the three estates of Lutheran doctrine (economic, political, and ecclesiastical) for the biblical mandates which have a heavenly archetype: marriage (Christ and the church), labor (the creative work of God in the world), government (the dominion of Christ in. eternity), and the state (the city of God). He defends his position against the charge that the secular institutions are able to survive without knowing Christ. Limitations are placed on this claim, for "genuine worldliness is achieved only through emancipation by Christ," and yet they exist only because of Christ whether this is known or not.56

The third essay is entitled "State and Church." Bonhoeffer avers that the concept of the state is pagan in origin and is alien to the New Testament. Government is the New Testament idea which does not imply any particular form of state or society. Government is ordained by God. Bonhoeffer rejects those bases for government which project the state arising out of the character of man: i.e., Aristotle, medieval Catholicism, Hegelianism; as well as those theories based in man’s sin and need of government for restraint in a chaotic world: i.e., the Reformation tradition. The second view is more biblical, affirming that government is "from above" rather than organized "from below." But in opposition to this Bonhoeffer affirms Christ as the basis for government because he is the mediator of creation, the goal of government, its Lord, and its source of authority and power.57

Government has a divine character in its being. This refers not to its origin, but to its nature. Its task reflects its divine character in its mission whereby it serves Christ by the sword for punishment and justice and along with education for goodness.58 A further divine implication is the claim of government on conscience, or obedience "for the Lord’s sake" (1 Pet. 2:13). The believer is bound to obedience until the government exceeds its commission, whereupon one must obey God rather than man. This disobedience in a single area must not be generalized to all areas of government. Only an apocalyptic event in which all obedience to government involved denial of Christ (see Rev. 13:7) would require total disobedience.59

Government has a relation to the other mandates. It serves to protect and sanction these areas, but in itself government is not creative. Marriage, labor, and the church stand independently of government, but always in the presence of government and subject to its supervision for the sake of order.

Government has a claim on the church in obedience. Obedience to government is obedience to Christ. Likewise, the church lays a claim on government. She reminds government of their common Master. She calls government to fulfill its "worldly calling," its special task, and at the same time claims protection from the government. The government also has a claim on the church. Government must maintain neutrality with reference to exalting one religion over another. It cannot originate new religions. Similarly, the church has a political responsibility. The church must warn of sin and call for righteousness which exalts a nation.

Bonhoeffer does not opt for any particular form of government. Any form that best fulfills the nature of government would be accepted. This means that government must recognize its being from above. It means also that the government s power will rest on a strict execution of justice, on the rights of the family and of labor, and on the proclamation of the gospel.60 Essay four, "On the Possibility of the Word of the Church to the World," is unfinished but it poses the issue of the church’s responsibility for answering particular problems in the world. Does the church have an answer for all the ills of mankind? Bonhoeffer remarks that Jesus hardly discussed such solutions, but stressed the redemption of man. Therefore, he suggests, "perhaps the unsolved state of these problems is of more importance to God than their solution, for it may serve to call attention to the fall of man and to the divine redemption."61 The solution of human problems is not the task of the church. The church does have a responsibility in removing hindrances to man’s coming to faith in Christ. This is a negative responsibility in which she declares the wrongness of an economic theory, for example, if it obstructs belief in Christ. Positively, she can give advice by drawing upon specialists. This latter task is a service, not part of her divine office.

Essay five, "What Is Meant by ‘Telling the Truth?’" concludes the Ethics. Truthfulness, Bonhoeffer says, does not mean blurting out everything one knows to anybody one meets. Telling the truth depends on the occasion, who is addressing me, and on the subject under discussion. It must involve the total reality of the situation. A true word spoken hypocritically is really untrue. Man is not entitled to speak his mind on any subject apart from the need or demand for his thoughts. On the other hand, "the right to speak always lies within the confines of the particular office which I discharge" 62 — as parent or teacher, for instance. Of interest is the editor’s footnote quoting Bonhoeffer’s letter of December 1943. He speaks of the need for concealment — e.g., God made clothes for man in a fallen state — in which, although evil cannot be eradicated, "it is at least to be kept hidden."63 If there is to be confession, let it be before God. This may serve as a needed corrective to the bent toward spiritual stripteases that occur in sensitivity groups and related psychologically oriented movements in evangelical Christianity.

Trying to evaluate an unfinished work and being fair in doing it is impossible. What one might criticize would conceivably have no basis had Bonhoeffer finished the work, polished and revised it. Yet in spite of the unfinished nature of the work we add the following comments and questions. First, the title, Ethics, is perhaps a misnomer. Suggested titles could be Christian Ethics, Theological Ethics, or The Church and the World. These would indicate the direction the work takes more than Ethics, because traditional approaches of philosophical ethics are rejected as unreal from the beginning.

Second, Bonhoeffer insists that ethics must be defined concretely. God’s will must be seen in a definite way as it is declared in the mandates of labor, marriage, government, and the church. Bonhoeffer saw the mandates as giving man freedom to live without having constantly to reflect on issues to be decided and thereby being kept in a state of indecision. But the mandates do not go far enough. Even with the mandates many Christians may still be troubled. They want to know the specific answer to concrete questions: Whom shall I marry? How can I do God’s will in this particular choice? How many children shall I have? Under the mandate of labor, what specific calling shall I follow? To my knowledge Bonhoeffer leaves us without answers. But these are serious questions facing young Christians, and all discerning people who contemplate their future.

Third, there appears to be an antinomy between the church’s role in prohibiting tyranny and the church’s inability to give "Christian answers" to secular problems. Bonhoeffer advocated reshaping society to prevent tyranny even if it meant assassination. (Admittedly, he wanted to dissociate himself from the Confessing Church had the assassination attempt on Hitler been successful, but this is not the usual advice given as the content of Christian ethics.) On the other hand, in admitting that the world’s problems may be insoluble Bonhoeffer sides with inaction and the status quo. The word that God has for man, he says, is redemption, not solution.

This antinomy exists and has existed in the church for a long time. What would Bonhoeffer have said about the civil rights movement? Should the church be involved in helping a depressed people? How would Bonhoeffer express himself on the Vietnam issue, or the threat of Communism as a form of tyranny? What areas in the world are open for "reshaping," or what areas are "insoluble"? These and similar questions would no doubt have’ received creative answers had Bonhoeffer lived to face them in their exact form.

Fourth, Bonhoeffer’s situational ethic is better than some contemporary writers, but there are still questions to be asked. His is better in that it is dictated by the "form of Christ, and its taking form amidst a band of men."64 Some contemporary writers speak of the end sanctifying the means, giving considerable laxity to ethical application. Bonhoeffer does not do this, but the difference may be little more than verbal. He declares that "Christ teaches no abstract ethics such as must at all cost be put into practice."65 But what is the "form of Christ"? How is it to be known except through the gospel’s declaring redemption and the development of a life style centered around the teaching of the New Testament? Can ethics be built upon the unusual, the extraordinary, the purely situational, or the so-called "hard cases" of life? Must not the form of Christ begin with the specific and add an addenda for the unusual only when necessary, and even then only in repentance?

In summary, Bonhoeffer’s Ethics was written for a crisis situation. He was concerned that tyranny not arise again. He was disturbed over the silence and apathy of the church during Hitler’s rise. His situationalism is in part to be understood in this context. One must not tell the truth to a tyrant when harm will come to good people. While situationalism appears attractive, it is not easy. The situations change, the issues are not always the same, and human judgment falters. While Christ "affirms reality,"66 the moral instruction in the New Testament gives content to that reality.

Ethics will rank as one of Bonhoeffer’s greatest works, although it will not hold the fascination of the last volume, which contains his letters from prison. To that we now turn.

 

NOTES:

1. William Kuhns, In Pursuit of Dietrich Bonhoeffer (Garden City: Doubleday, Image Books, 1969), p. 130.

2. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Ethics, trans. Neville Horton Smith (New York: The Macmillan Co., 1965), p. 19.

3. Ibid., p. 20.

4. Ibid., p. 24.

5. Ibid., p. 33.

6. Epistemology is the area of philosophy dealing with knowledge, how we know, sources of knowledge, and ways of knowing.

7. Ibid., p. 38.

8. Ibid., p. 40.

9. Ibid., p. 52.

10. Ibid., p. 56.

11. Ibid., p. 63, footnote.

12. Ibid., pp. 65-67.

13. Ibid., pp. 76-77.

14. Ibid., p. 77.

15. Ibid., p. 80.

16. ibid., p. 84.

17. Ibid., p. 85.

18. Ibid., p. 99.

19. Ibid., p. 100.

20. Ibid., p. 108.

21. Ibid., p. 110.

22. Ibid., pp. 112-16.

23. Ibid., p. 133. 24. Ibid., p. 142.

25. Ibid., p. 144.

26. Ibid., p. 151.

27. Ibid., p. 156.

28. Ibid., p. 167.

29. Ibid., p. 176.

30. Ibid., p. 188.

31. Ibid., p. 197.

32. Ibid., p. 204.

33. Ibid., p. 207.

34. Ibid.

35. Ibid., p. 223.

36. Ibid., p. 225.

37. Ibid.

38. Ibid., p. 233.

39. Ibid., p. 229.

40. Ibid., p. 235.

41. Ibid., p. 236.

42. Ibid., p. 244.

43. Ibid., p. 251.

44. Ibid., p. 252.

45. Ibid., pp. 255-56.

46. Ibid., p. 258.

47. Ibid., p. 277.

48. Ibid., p. 278.

49. Ibid., p. 281.

50. Ibid., p. 283.

51. Ibid., p. 287.

52. Ibid., pp. 292-93, 301-2.

53. Ibid., pp. 296-302.

54. Ibid., p. 313.

55. Ibid.

56. Ibid., pp. 330-31.

57. Ibid., pp. 333-39.

58. Ibid., p. 340.

59. Ibid., pp. 342-44.

60. Ibid., pp. 358-53.

61. Ibid., pp. 355-56.

62. Ibid., p. 371.

63. Ibid., p. 372.

64. Ibid., p. 84.

65. Ibid.

66. Ibid., p. 85.

Chapter 6: The Church’s Brand of Discipleship

Bonhoeffer’s most famous work published during his lifetime was The Cost of Discipleship (Nachfolge), which achieved a wide reputation for him. It is a serious work and in some ways a work of "hard sayings." It contains a profound interpretation of the Sermon on the Mount plus an exposition of Matthew 9:35-10:42, and sections on the "Church of Jesus Christ" and the "Life of Discipleship."

WHAT IS DISCIPLESHIP?

The important question is: What does it mean to follow Jesus Christ? Bonhoeffer fears that many do not follow for the wrong reasons; for instance, a human rather than the divine word is preached; offense is taken at the "superstructure of human, institutional, and doctrinal elements in our preaching"1 rather than at the Word of God. He calls for a return to Scripture and to Jesus Christ, and he therefore proposes "to tell how Jesus calls us to be his disciples."2 Discipleship is much easier than man-made rules and dogmas, but more important, what Jesus asks, he gives the grace to do. Discipleship may be hard, but it is not limited to a small spiritual elite. Discipleship is the road to Christian joy.

The background for the exposition of the Sermon on the Mount is the prevalence in the church of what Bonhoeffer calls "cheap grace." Cheap grace has brought chaos to the church.; It is defined in several ways: intellectual assent to a doctrine: or idea; justification of the sinner without a corresponding change in his ethic; but perhaps the greatest passage is the following:

Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion, without confession, absolution without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.3

Grace, on the other hand, is dear and costly. A man must give up his life to follow Christ. Grace is dear because it cost the Son of God his life, but it is grace because God did not count this too great a cost.

Cheap grace arose as the church became secularized and the world became Christianized. Costly grace did not die, as is evidenced in the rise of the monastic movement wherein the spiritual elite yet retained something of the demands of discipleship. But even the cloister was a corruption of grace. The life of a disciple is to be lived in the world against its hostility not in the favored atmosphere of a friendly monastery. Against the triumph of cheap grace in the church, Bonhoeffer calls for a return to obedience of Christ. Only in costly grace is there joy in Christian living.

How does one become a disciple? First, there is the call of Jesus to follow him. A doctrinal system, a church structure and other substitutes for the Living Christ render discipleship irrelevant.4 Second, in answering the call of Christ one must take the first concrete step. This step takes one out of his previous existence and places him where faith is possible. "Faith can no longer mean sitting still and waiting — they must arise and follow him."5

At this juncture Bonhoeffer introduces two propositions that must be held together always. Both are equally true: "Only he who believes is obedient, and only he who is obedient believes."6 There is no obedience without faith nor faith without obedience. In believing there is an act of obedience, such as Peter’s leaving his nets or Matthew’s walking away from his receipts. This act of obedience is never more than a "dead work of the law"7 but it must be done because Jesus commands it. Inability to believe is probably due to unwillingness to take the first step.

Bonhoeffer’s pastoral concern shows in the hypothetical instance of a man who says he wants to believe and cannot. The usual pastor is baffled about the next step in his presentation. The secret weapon is to continue the dialogue by saying, "‘Only those who obey, believe. . . . You are disobedient, you are trying to keep some part of your life under your own control.’"8 If you give up your sins, your uncommitted world, and obey, you will believe.

Many of the questions raised about believing are "dodges" for obeying. Theoretical questions of reservations about the law and its application and interpretation are described by Bonhoeffer as devices to avoid obedience to Christ. The account of the rich young man (Matt. 19:16-22) or the lawyer of the Good Samaritan story are used as examples of people who asked questions in order to avoid the demands of discipleship.

Bonhoeffer’s insight into the rewards of discipleship are deep. In discipleship one is seemingly dragged into insecurity which in reality turns into the safety of Christ. Following Christ means leaving the world of the finite and being brought into the life of the Infinite.9 We are called to attach ourselves exclusively to his person. Jesus’ call is without qualification. There is only one way of understanding Jesus: he meant it as he said it. All subterfuges based on "reason and conscience, responsibility and piety" stand in the way of complete obedience.10 The usual type of rationalization of the commands of Christ are dealt with mercilessly. This refers to the reasoning whereby we reinterpret Jesus to mean that we need not leave all, but simply possess the wealth of the world as though we did not possess it. The command to follow is reduced to developing a spirit of inward detachment. Instead, nothing must stand in our way of fulfilling the command of Christ. Nor must we abandon the "single-minded understanding of the commandment."11 When single-mindedness is neglected, cheap grace sneaks back into the religious life. Likewise, when the principle of simple obedience is thrown out, an unevangelical interpretation of the Bible takes the place of the truly evangelical. Bonhoeffer defends the literal interpretation of the Bible,12 not in order to establish legalism or letterism, "but to proclaim Christ." At the same we cannot behave as though we were contemporary with the disciples. Merely giving up possessions is not to be confused with obedience to Jesus. Becoming a Franciscan bound to poverty may be the farthest from following Jesus.

Being a disciple is related to bearing the cross of Christ. Suffering and rejection go hand in hand with bearing the cross. Suffering alone could produce a martyr, but rejection prohibits it. To take up the cross is to deny oneself. "To deny oneself is to be aware only of Christ and no more of self, to see only him who goes before and no more the road which is too hard for us."13 Every Christian must bear the cross. The cross means (1) that one must "abandon the attachments of this world," (2) that one must come after Christ and die to himself, and (3) perhaps undergo death completely. Suffering is one of the badges of discipleship. Yet in suffering there is triumph. When suffering is concluded there is nothing else it can do. It is a path to victory.

There is a paradox discovered in answering the call of Christ. In discipleship "men become individuals."14 Before this they stood under the facade of responsibilities, duties, and relationships to the world. But the call of Christ demands a break with the world as well as with the past. Christ’s call places a barrier between man and the world. Man must forsake the world, but in doing so he learns that he never really knew the world. In Christ he finds a new relation possible between himself and God, between himself and man, between himself and reality. All relationships now are to be mediated through Christ. Being in Christ, it becomes possible to see how isolated man is from man. It is impossible to know another person directly. Because Christ now stands between man and neighbor, the shortest and most direct way to the neighbor is through Christ. "That is why intercession is the most promising way to reach our neighbours, and corporate prayer, offered in the name of Christ, the purest form of fellowship."15

As an example of this, Bonhoeffer uses the story of Abraham. To answer God’s call, Abraham turned his back upon his father’s house and became a pilgrim in hopes of a promised land. In the command to sacrifice his son, a barrier is placed between Abraham and Isaac. Isaac is given back but something is different. Abraham now has Isaac "through the Mediator and for the Mediator’s sake."16 The outward details are still the same, but a new relationship has arisen and the reality is different. Abraham also serves as an example of a man becoming an individual in the midst of his own people and with the enjoyment of wealth. This type of individuality is harder, for it is easier to return to the way of direct relationships with people and forfeit our discipleship in Christ.

However, only Christ can determine which path we will take, says Bonhoeffer. Christ not only makes new individuals but he calls to a new fellowship wherein he stands between the members. The fellowship of the church takes precedence over the house, father, mother, or brothers that are left behind. The reward is hundredfold over what is forsaken. But included in the reward is the promise "with persecutions."

The seriousness of the call of Christ is realistically set forth in all its hardness: deny yourself, accept persecutions, forsake all. But he who calls gives strength to endure. Surely Bonhoeffer’s life is a poignant example of this statement.

THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT

Bonhoeffer takes the beatitudes seriously. There is one place where the beatitudes are incarnate in one person — the crucified of Golgotha. Thus the disciples, following their Lord, are called blessed because they have obeyed the call of Jesus."17 The poor in spirit are those who have accepted the loss of all things including their own selves for his sake. Those who mourn are those who do "without what the world calls peace and prosperity."18 Mourning means to refuse to be in harmony with the standards of the world. The meek are those who give up claims to their own rights for the will of Christ. Those who hunger and thirst for righteousness are those renouncing all claims to personal achievement, who wait for God’s reign of righteousness. The merciful, having given up claims to their own dignity, become "men for others," helping the needy, sick, castouts — all those who need any kind of ministry. The pure in heart become that way by giving their hearts completely to the reign of Jesus. Under his rule, he purifies their hearts with his Word. The peacemakers renounce all violence and "maintain fellowship where others would break it off."19 The persecuted for righteousness suffer for "any just cause"20 and will be rejected by the world, but God’s kingdom belongs to them. To this motley crew the world says "Away with them" and God agrees with the world. But he intends them for the kingdom of heaven, where their reward is great.

The disciples, the blessed ones, are not too good for the world, for they are thrust into its center as the salt of the earth. The kingdom of heaven is theirs only after they finish their earthly task. For the disciple there are only two options: being the salt of the earth or being annihilated and crushed. Similarly, as the lights of the world they receive energy from the light of the cross. The bushels that cover men’s light — whether fear, ulterior motives, or humane causes — go to the heart of determining whether one is Christian or not. If the light does not shine can there be oneness with Christ?

The close connection with Christ distinguishes the disciples from the Pharisees. Both stand under the obligation to keep the Old Testament law. The Pharisee tried and failed. Hence Jesus spoke of the need of a "better righteousness." The disciple begins his keeping of the law in reference to Jesus Christ who fulfilled it completely, both by living in complete communion with God and by dying a sinner’s death on the cross. He becomes thereby the righteousness of the disciples. Their fulfilling of the law which exceeds the Pharisees’s keeping of the law is not in terms of personal achievement. They can only exceed the righteousness of the Pharisees by receiving the gift of righteousness, the fulfiller of the law, Christ himself.

Bonhoeffer declares it to be false to separate the law from the disciple. He is not free of it anymore than he is free of God because he is in Christ. He says, "There is no fulfilment of the law apart from communion with God, and no communion with God apart from fulfilment of the law."21 The Jews committed the first error and the disciples were tempted to the second. Discipleship is not to be confused with obeying the law, but disobeying the law removes one from being a disciple.22 As the Divine Lawgiver, Jesus corrected some of the erroneous usages of the law. A chief correction comes in the matter of legalism. The real meaning of the law is explained.

The commandment on killing relates not only to the overt act but to attitudes of anger and hate as well as insult. Bonhoeffer rejects the subtle distinction between "righteous indignation and unjustifiable anger."23 Rather freedom from anger is the command for the disciple. Anger hinders worship and prohibits service. The church fellowship must not copy the world in its ways of contempt and contumely. We cannot honor God and dishonor our brother. To honor God requires a reconciliation against all that have been offended. Being permitted to make this reconciliation is part of God’s grace. Over against our making up stands the court of judgment.

The commandment on adultery is related to desire where there is no love. Discipleship forbids a free rein of lust. If the disciple retains his gaze upon Christ his gaze will be pure even when looking at a woman. Bonhoeffer interprets Jesus as sanctifying marriage along with its indissolubility. The intent of both Jesus and the law was to safeguard marriage. Any violation of the law — in any sexual irregularity — is against the Body of Christ because the disciple is a member of his Body. To be dead to lust and desire is possible because in Christ the disciple was crucified, or put to death, and desire has no hold on a dead person.

The command prohibiting the use of oaths is accepted by Bonhoeffer without the Reformation exception of the state in a court of law. Discipleship means complete truthfulness. Discipleship supposes that one has been completely truthful with Jesus, else there is no forgiveness. Truthfulness is the basis of fellowship among believers. Without it the brotherhood is destroyed.

Bonhoeffer is most interesting when he treats the revenge passage of Matthew 5:38-42. He is dead serious about this part of the Sermon. His passive resistance views are evident. The Old Testament nation of Israel was a political as well as religious community, and retribution was necessary. But the new community is religious only. The way to conquer evil, then, is not politically but passively. If the disciple is meek, not counting his own rights, he will not seek redress when wronged. Resistance creates further resistance and solves nothing. Bonhoeffer knows of no exception at this point in his writing. "There is no deed on earth so outrageous as to justify a different attitude. The worse the evil, the readier must the Christian be to suffer. . . ."24 Bonhoeffer rejects the Reformation distinction between suffering as a Christian and suffering due to holding an office or performing a duty. He asks, "Am I ever acting only as a private person or only in an official capacity?"25 This must not be interpreted to make nonresistance a rule for secular life. For so interpreted, God’s ordinances for preserving the world would be rejected. Rather the civil order has its directions for life while the disciple has a different order. The strong pacifism here is remarkably in contrast to Bonhoeffer’s later involvement in the resistance to the Nazi regime as well as his involvement in the plot to assassinate Hitler. His later view did not come easily.

Following the rejection of the lex talionis 26 Bonhoeffer turns to the "extraordinary" feature in the disciple — the love of the enemy. This is the only way to overcome him. The Christian cannot return hostility for hostility; Jesus does not allow this. The greater the hatred, the greater the love must be for the hater. Loving the enemy is to serve him "in all things without hypocrisy and with utter sincerity. No sacrifice which a lover would make for his beloved is too great for us to make for our enemy."27 The extraordinary feature is that it goes beyond mere love of friend for friend. This is taken for granted. Jesus commands that love for the enemy be a hallmark of the disciple. This love is the fulfilling of the law and obedience to Christ.

Chapter five of Matthew relates to the openness of the disciple’s life. Chapter six speaks of the hiddenness of his spiritual existence. What is meant? The hiddenness is from ourselves.28 Discipleship means looking at and following Christ. When one begins to notice his own love and goodness, one ceases being a disciple. The disciple’s life includes prayer. Not a natural activity, prayer must be taught, and Jesus does not leave his disciples in ignorance. They pray because they are commanded, but always through a Mediator. Access to God is only through a mediator. Prayer is never an entreaty — for God knows our needs — nor is it a pious work. It has a hidden character, for in prayer men "have ceased to know themselves, and know only God whom they call upon."29 The place or time of prayer is not important, for even in a private room one may make a nice display of himself in prayer. The model prayer Jesus gave his disciples is the "quintessence of prayer."30 It serves to place boundaries around the disciple’s prayer.

A practice akin to prayer is fasting. Bonhoeffer follows Jesus’ warning against mere pious fasting to impress either others or oneself. Fasting has the motive of self-discipline for better service to Christ. The objections to fasting — the resistance of the flesh and "evangelical liberty" — must not deter one from fasting as a form of discipline.31 When the Christian has failed in obedience, is guilty of sin against others, has lost the joy of Christian grace, and has come to little or no prayer, he needs to fast and pray. There is the danger, however, of trying to "imitate the sufferings of Christ." This reduces itself to "a desire for ostentation" and hence must be rejected.32

Moving from fasting to "the simplicity of the carefree life," Bonhoeffer stresses the singleness of following Christ alone. It is never Christ and something else. Singleness of heart relates both to treasures on earth and to what master we serve. Treasures are a part of human nature. Rather than be denied them, the disciple is given "higher objects — the glory of God (John 5:44), the glorying in the cross (Gal. 6:14), and the treasure in heaven."33 Singleness of heart relates to the master we serve: God or Mammon. We must love God or hate him.

The first two chapters of the Sermon (Matt. 5 and 6) display the uniqueness of the disciple. Because of his extraordinary position, how is he to be related to the non-Christian? This subject receives treatment in Matthew 7, or the third section of the Sermon. No superior attitude is warranted, for the believer possesses his righteousness as gift, not by achievement. If he judges, God will judge him, for in his judgment he gives up the meaning of discipleship. There is no vantage point for the disciple. Rather he must come to the non-Christian with "an unconditional offer of fellowship, with the single-mindedness of the love of Jesus."34 If we are inclined to judge so that evil might be destroyed, we should look within ourselves.

As judgment is prohibited, so is coercion in making disciples of other people. Proselytizing is wrong for three reasons: (1)swine do not recognize costly pearls; (2) "it profanes the word of forgiveness"; (3) it does not recognize the weakness of the gospel.35 The disciple has no power over the other person except through Christ in prayer. This alone is a powerful hope. The church will not win the majority of mankind. Many are on the road to destruction. For the disciple the road is narrow and many are the ways of losing oneself. "But if we behold Jesus Christ going on before step by step, we shall not go astray."36 The disciple’s separation from the world is not permanent. Discipleship must be renewed daily. Following is made all the harder because there are false prophets who look, act, and speak like Christians. Here one cannot judge but must wait for evil to show its colors.

The division of the true from the false will be done by God himself. The great final judgment involves all, and division will hinge on those who confess him and those who do not. Presently, there is possibility of a demonic confession devoid of love, without Christ, and without the Spirit of God. The important question is: "Who will pass the test and who will not?"37 Bonhoeffer’s answer is that "the word of the last judgment is foreshadowed in the call to discipleship. . .If we follow Christ, cling to his word, and let everything else go, it will see us through the day of judgment. His word is his grace."38

Following Bonhoeffer’s exposition of the Sermon on the Mount, he gives an exposition of Matthew 9:35-10:42.39 Short vignettes are drawn of the harvest (the people are without a shepherd, without relief, deliverance, and forgiveness) for which one must pray for laborers; the call of the apostles (who are given power stronger than Satan’s and are bound together only by their choice and call); the work (fulfilling their commission to preach, traveling as messengers of the King, living in "royal poverty," warning men of the urgency of the times); the suffering of the messengers (as Jesus was persecuted so the messengers will be, but they are forewarned; because Christ will return the disciples are not to fear man, or to be gullible in thinking that "there is good in every man"40); the decision (man’s eternal destiny is determined by his decision on earth for the devil or for Christ); and the fruit (the disciples are fellow workers having as their goal the "salvation of the Church").41

DISCIPLESHIP TODAY

Part Four of The Cost of Discipleship is entitled, "The Church of Jesus Christ and the Life of Discipleship." Is there a difference between being a disciple when Jesus was alive and being one today? Are we moderns not in a more difficult situation when we do not have the personalized call to follow Jesus? How are we to decide what following Jesus may mean for us, or to know for sure that we are not following our own wishes?

Bonhoeffer rejects these questions and similar ones as being wrong. Jesus yet lives. The resurrection is a fact, and Jesus calls to the modern to follow him. Where is he to be found? "The preaching of the Church and the administration of the sacraments is the place where Jesus Christ is present."42 Jesus never calls to a one specific action, but to decisive discipleship — a decision for or against following him. How are we to discern which commands of his are related to us? This question is based upon a misunderstanding. "The object of Jesus’ command is always the same — to evoke whole-hearted faith, to make us love God and our neighbour with all our heart and soul. This is the unequivocal feature in his command."43

Moving from the Gospels to the epistles, Bonhoeffer maintains that the terminology is different but expresses the same concept. "Baptism" is the Pauline equivalent of "following Christ." "Baptism" is essentially passive — being baptized, suffering the call of Christ."44 Baptism involves the same breach with the world as following Christ. In baptism, one dies to the old world. In baptism, "Christ invades the realm of Satan, lays hands on his own and creates for himself his Church."45 The demand of Christ for a visible act of obedience is manifested in the public act of baptism. Although Bonhoeffer seems to admit the possibility of apostasy and hence a return to Christ, he professes a finality about baptism. It may not be repeated.46

These views seem to point up a sharp difficulty in Bonhoeffer. On the one hand, Christ calls for a decision which can only be related to responsiveness. On the other Bonhoeffer defends infant baptism47 which lacks a response and intimates a coercion which he had previously rejected. However Bonhoeffer insists that there must be a "firm faith present" (which "can only happen in a living Christian community") before the sacrament be administered. In this matter he makes no progress beyond Luther, who never successfully resolved this antinomy.

The first disciples lived in the presence of Jesus. Is there a Pauline counterpart? Decidedly so! To be a member of the Body of Christ by baptism is to have a better relation than the disciples, for it is the glorified Lord with whom we have to do. Bonhoeffer’s reasoning follows traditional forms here. Adam and Christ are individuals and representatives of man. In one the race fell into sin, in the second there is created a new humanity.48 All men are in one or the other or both. The Incarnate Word took to himself sinful flesh (which Bonhoeffer defines only as "human nature" or "our infirmities and. . . our sin"49) and thereby sought to create a community of followers. How is one incorporated into this community, this body? "The answer is through the two sacraments of his Body, baptism and the Lord’s Supper."50 Preaching alone will not do it; the sacraments are necessary.

The Body of Christ, the church, takes Christ’s place until he comes. Thus the church is not an institution, but a person.51 Bonhoeffer notes that there is unity between Christ and the church as his Body, but there can be no mystic fusion of the two because Christ is still the Head of the Body — a metaphor which speaks of his Lordship over the church. We do share in his sufferings — we may suffer for him and for his church. The church is the fulfillment of ancient prophecy. The temples at Jerusalem were not built by God nor did they endure. God’s true temple will endure forever and it finds its fullest meaning in the body of Christ which is the living temple of God.52

In a chapter on "The Visible Community" Bonhoeffer returns to a familiar theme developed in the Communion of Saints. The "Body of Christ" is visible on earth and has spatial relationships. An idea, a thought, a truth does not require space, but a body does. The church is made visible in the preaching of the Word of God and in the sacraments. The Word is shared with the community and the world, while the sacraments are restricted to the believers. There are other offices and services in the church, but the "uncorrupted ministry of the Word and Sacraments is of paramount importance."53 Because the church is visible it must have living space. Its daily life must be permitted to exist. When the church is continually circumscribed in its existence, then the end will be near.54

The church has obligations to society. Christians are not revolutionaries because "revolution would only obscure that divine New Order which Jesus has established. It would also hinder and delay the disruption of the existing world order in the coming of the kingdom of God."55 Rather they must be in subjection to the higher powers as Paul asserts (Rom. 13:l ff.). Bonhoeffer seems to prohibit high office to the Christian, because the Christian is a servant. The Christian must do good no matter what the world about him is doing. Should he suffer for it, he was warned of such by Christ. In his vocation, the Christian works within the framework of what is compatible to the Body of Christ. His livelihood, his way of life, his marriage is accepted only within the framework of being a pilgrim, not a resident of the world.

The people who make up the visible community are the saints. How does a holy God have a relation to a sinful people? The answer lies in his act of atonement and justification of the sinner. In the Incarnation God assumes sinful flesh and dies the death of all flesh.56 In turn the obedience and righteousness of Christ become that of the formerly alienated. This is the significance of the historical Incarnation. The present believer achieves this incorporation into Christ through baptism.57

Once within the fellowship of Christ, the saints must renew daily the meaning of their baptism. Sanctification is the concern of the justified. To be sanctified is to fulfill the command to be holy. Bonhoeffer treats sanctification in three aspects of the saints’ lives: (1) holy living will be achieved only by not being conformed to the world; (2) Christian living will be a result of walking with Christ; (3) "their sanctification will be hidden, and they must wait for the day of Jesus Christ."58

In his discussion of sanctification Bonhoeffer speaks of sin, church discipline, and good works. Sin may be of two kinds: moral and intellectual. Moral sin is headed by whoredom which is a form of idolatry.59 Intellectual, doctrinal sin is more serious for it corrupts the gospel. Moral sin leaves the gospel of forgiveness intact.60 Church discipline takes several forms: personal exhortation, pulpit warnings, and church action of exclusion. This is consistent with his overall theme of ridding the church of cheap grace. Good works are necessary, for God demands them. Yet "our good works are the works of God himself."61 It is the doers of the law who shall be justified in judgment. Thus Bonhoeffer does not draw a sharp distinction between faith and works. "It is evil works rather than good works which hinder and destroy faith."62

Bonhoeffer concludes The Cost of Discipleship with a return to God’s beginning point. God created man in his own image. Because of man’s sin this is effaced. Christ came to renew God’s work of his image in man. Man could not achieve renewal himself. Thus God effects it. The image will reach its final form in the resurrection where the transforming will be complete.

The Cost of Discipleship still stands as a much needed book. Its greatness must not be detracted from by criticisms which show its one-sidedness or weakness. A man must be appreciated for what he says positively, rather than censored for weaknesses. It is easy to focus on the disagreements one has with a writer. We hope we may be forgiven for doing that here.

In his books relating to the church, Bonhoeffer dissociates himself from "the fanatics and enthusiasts," a term equated with pietists and probably those of the Anabaptist tradition. "Fanatics and enthusiasts" often referred to those peoples and movements who made up the "radical reformation," that part of the reformation more extreme than the Lutheran and Calvinist movements. These people, along with the pietists of later times, stressed personal faith and experience over against a sacramental and liturgical view of the church. Bonhoeffer charges these people with perfectionism.63 This charge appears contradictory to his own position in some ways. In some instances he held positions similar to those of the fanatics (pietists or Anabaptists) — for instance, his attitude toward the holding of high office in government.64

It might be ventured that the Anabaptist or pietist had a better answer to certain aspects of the Christian life than Bonhoeffer. The issue of baptism may serve as an example. The cheap grace mentality that Bonhoeffer censored came in part from the long-held practice of baptizing infants. Infant baptism became a cultural rather than a religious event which glossed over personal faith and commitment. Religion that begins in the unconsciousness of infancy often remains unconscious. This is the cultural milieu out of which Bonhoeffer’s criticism arises.

While Bonhoeffer saw the lack of commitment, many of these "fanatics" saw infant baptism as breeding cheap grace. They stressed the importance of faith, of adult commitment; thus grace was "costly" to them. Following Christ meant forsaking the world. Their danger lay in the direction of legalism. Bonhoeffer denounced legalism, but "costly grace" may lead one in that direction.

There is a dilemma in the Christian life remaining to be negotiated as long as we have perception. On the one hand, there is slavish legalism, in which the commands of Scripture are adhered to with deep concern for fulfillment and obedience, even though obedience may be perfunctory. On the other hand, there is the freedom of Christ which delivers from punctiliousness but which may slide in the direction of disobedience to Christ’s commands. The Christian has to probe for the channel that will take him through life in the joyful freedom of Christ where the commands of God are found to be meaningful for his own welfare. I am not sure that Bonhoeffer escapes the problems he saw in the pietist tradition. It may be that he was nearer the pietists in terms of costly grace than he realized.

Again, his treatment of good works leaves something to he desired. He did not achieve a synthesis of good works and faith anymore than he did on baptism and faith. On the one hand, good works are not acceptable, but on the other, we are commanded to do good works. A preferable approach would show that God’s grace and love leads rue to share the same with others. Although he rejected an imitation of Christ (because Christ’s vocation is unique), he nevertheless concludes his work with the admonition, "be ye therefore imitators. . ."65

In summary, The Cost of Discipleship remains an important work. As Christendom heads into the turbulent 70s, the call for costly grace appears more needed than ever. The student rebellion is directed in part at the failure of the older generation to take seriously the values it presumably espouses. The contemporary criticism of the church is related to merchandising in cheap grace where the church has not loved all men equally, has not preached the need for repentance from all sin, and has not forsaken the world for the service of Christ. A decade or two from now The Cost of Discipleship may stand out as Bonhoeffer’s most important word to us.

 

NOTES:

1. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship, trans. R. H. Fuller, rev. ed. (New York: The Macmillan Co., 1960), p. 30.

2. Ibid.

3. Ibid., p. 36.

4. Ibid., p. 50.

5. Ibid., p. 53.

6. Ibid., p. 54.

7. Ibid., p. 56.

8. Ibid., p. 59.

9. Ibid., p. 49.

10. Ibid., p. 69.

11. Ibid., p. 72.

12. Ibid., p. 74

13. Ibid., pp. 77-78.

14. Ibid., p. 84.

15. Ibid., p. 88.16. Ibid., p. 89.

17. Ibid., p. 97.

18. Ibid., p. 98.

19. Ibid., p. 102.

20. Ibid., p. 103.

21. Ibid., p. 111.

22. Ibid., p. 110.

23. Ibid., p. 116.

24. Ibid., p. 128.

25. Ibid., p. 129.

26. Lex talionis is the law of retaliation or vengeance popularly known as "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. . .

27. The Cost of Discipleship, p. 133.

28. Ibid., p. 142.

29. Ibid., p. 146.

30. Ibid., p. 148.

31. Ibid., p. 152.

32. Ibid., p. 153.

33. Ibid., p. 156, footnote.

34. Ibid., p. 163.

35. Ibid., pp. 165-66. "If it [the Gospel] came in power that would mean that the day of judgment had arrived" (p. 166).

36. Ibid., p. 170.

37. Ibid., p. 174.

38. Ibid.

39. Ibid., pp. 179-98.

40. Ibid., p. 191.

41. Ibid., p. 198.

42. Ibid., p. 201.

43. Ibid., p. 203.

44. Ibid., p. 206.

45. Ibid.

46. Ibid., p. 209.

47. Ibid., p. 210.

48. Ibid., p. 214.

49. Ibid.

50. Ibid., p. 215.

51. Ibid., pp. 215-16.

52. Ibid., pp. 221-22.

53. Ibid., p. 227.

54. Ibid., p. 240.

55. Ibid., p. 234.

56. Ibid., p. 247.

57. Ibid., p. 245. It is not fully clear how Bonhoeffer guards himself against universalism, for Christ took the flesh of all mankind. It seems that apocatastasis, or universal salvation, is a temptation to him all along.

58. Ibid., p. 252.

59. Ibid., p. 254.

60. Ibid., p. 264, footnote.

61. Ibid., p. 267.

62. Ibid., p. 266.

63. Ibid., p. 206, footnote; The Communion of Saints, p. 152.

64. Ibid., p. 235.

65. Ibid., p. 275.

Chapter 5: The Church’s Life in Christ

Bonhoeffer’s experiences with the clandestine seminary beginning in 1935 repeat a familiar refrain in the history of the church: How can the church survive under the fire of illegality?

At Finkenwalde, Bonhoeffer ran a Predigerseminar, a preachers’ seminary, covering a term of about six months, concentrating on pastoral duties. The days of training pastors for the Confessing Church were the most satisfying of Bonhoeffer’s life. Gemeinsames Leben (Life Together1) is a record of this experiment. Published in 1938, the book enjoyed a popularity beyond its basic theological profundity.

Life Together deals with the practical relations of the church’s life in Christ. Between the two advents of Christ the believer lives in community with other Christians. This is a gift of God; not all can experience it, for they may be scattered, imprisoned, or alone among heathen people.

THE CHRISTIAN COMMUNITY

Community, for the Christian, centers in Jesus Christ. This means three things: (1) a Christian is related to others because of Jesus Christ; (2) the path to others is only through Jesus Christ; (3) the Christian is elected in Christ from eternity to eternity.2 The first point of being relates to one s need of others. Christians must have one another to give God’s word reciprocally to each other. The word given to me is more assuring than my own. Yet my word may encourage another who is uncertain of his own heart. Thus the Christian community is to bring the message of salvation to all. The second point means that all relationships with one another and God are through Christ. He is our peace, wrote St. Paul, and the avenues to others wind through him. The third point relates to the Incarnation. We are incorporated into Christ and shall be with him and one another in an eternal fellowship.

As in his early writings, Bonhoeffer is careful to emphasize the difference between the community as an ideal and as a divine reality. The church is not the product of desire, a wish dream, or visionary hopes. If the church were a result of man’s efforts, its failure would cause the founder to accuse the other members, God, and finally himself. However, the church has been created by Cod in Jesus Christ, and thankfulness is the only attitude open: thankfulness for forgiveness, daily provisions, and fellowship. Thankfulness is the key to greater spiritual resources. Without thankfulness for the daily gifts, the greater gifts of God will not come our way. Especially in the case of pastors, thankfulness is important. A pastor has no right to accuse his congregation before God. Rather, let him make intercession and give thanks for his congregation.

If the church is not an ideal, it is also not a human reality. As a divine reality it is also a spiritual entity which has its basis in Jesus Christ, whereas the basis of human realities is desire. In the church there is the community of those called by Christ. The fellowship of the human community is composed of devout souls and works along the lines of the magnetic persuasion of a leader. The fellowship of Christ is ruled by God’s Word. In the one community the Spirit rules, in the other, psychological techniques.

Bonhoeffer’s central idea is that the church as the fellowship of Christ centers on Christ rather than being a mere association of people with a common purpose. Human love and actions are related to a desire for human community. Christian love, spiritual love, comes from Christ and goes out to the other person, not directly, but through Christ. Christ "stands between me and others."3 This means that disciplining of other people is through Christ, not directly. Direct personal influence may amount to coercion, or be an impure influence in another’s life. Rather, the most direct way to another is found in prayer to Christ whose influence is greater.

The community will continue to exist only as it learns to distinguish spiritual love from human, the spiritual community from the human ideal. It "will remain sound and healthy only where it does not form itself into a movement, an order, a society, a collegium pietatis, but rather where it understands itself as being a part of the one, holy, catholic, Christian Church. . ."4 The unity of the community is in Christ, "Through him alone do we have access to one another, joy in one another, and fellowship with one another."5

THE COMMUNITY AT WORSHIP

Life together in the community begins with the break of day. It is proper to begin the day with worship. Worship should include thanksgiving, reading of Scripture, and prayer. To God belongs the first thought of the morning. Bonhoeffer does not lay down a rigid order of worship. But he does insist that common worship should include "the word of Scripture, the hymns of the Church, and, the prayer of the fellowship."6 His treatment shows an intense interest in the pastoral side of life.

The treatment of the Book of Psalms in worship is particularly interesting. How can one use the psalms as one’s own? Can one really pray the imprecatory psalms? 7 Bonhoeffer answers that as human sinners, expressing our own evil thoughts and vengeance, we cannot. But Jesus Christ prays all of the psalms, and because we are in him we can follow his use of them, can pray them through him. "The Psalter is the vicarious prayer of Christ for his Church. Now that Christ is with the Father, the new humanity of Christ, the Body of Christ on earth continues to pray his prayers to the end of time. This prayer belongs, not to the individual member, but. to the whole Body of Christ."8

Thus the Psalter can teach us how to pray because Jesus used it. The Psalter teaches us to pray according to the promises of God to his people. It teaches us also that prayer goes far beyond the experiences of the individual to the concern of Christ in the whole church. The imprecatory psalms should be used, not as individual and personal, but "as a prayer out of the heart of Jesus Christ that was sinless and clean."9 Because our lives are in Christ, what happened to him happened to us, and herein is our right in using these prayers. The psalms direct us to a prayer fellowship. The liturgical construction of the psalms indicates this. The prayer fellowship includes fellow believers, but even where one is in prayer alone, there Christ is with him in prayer.

Although the Book of Psalms is part of the Old Testament, the reading of the Scripture needs a separate treatment. Brief readings are not a substitute for reading of the Scripture consecutively and as a whole. A family or community should read a chapter from the Old Testament and at least one half of a chapter from the New Testament daily. The Old Testament is stressed, not as dull irrelevant history, but as part of the total story of our redemption. My redemption cannot be isolated from Israel’s passing through the Red Sea and other experiences. "And only in so far as we are there, is God with us today also."10 Bonhoeffer goes so far as to say that what happened to Israel is more important than what God intends for me today.11 The Scripture has prime importance for the church as well as for pastoral work. How shall one minister spiritually to others apart from the Scripture? How shall the church be guided without the Scriptures?

A part of worship is singing, and Bonhoeffer loved to sing. The beginning of the day with others involves singing. The Bible gives the precedent for singing. Singing gives the opportunity "to speak and pray the same word at the same time." Bonhoeffer advocates unison singing and speaks rather sarcastically of those who show off their musical skill by singing harmony. "Unison singing . . .is less of a musical than a spiritual matter."12 Why? Perhaps because one concentrates on what is sung rather than on how it is sung. Here again the corporate aspect of church singing is viewed as an act of worship.

The church in prayer relates to individual and common prayer. Both formal and free prayers have their appropriate place. The fellowship of prayer means that we pray for one another’s needs, give thanks for others’ progress, and intercede for others’ concerns.

After the day has begun with worship, the community turns to physical sustenance. Fellowship around the table means common fellowship with those of the family, or those of the community (as in the "seminary"), fellowship around the Lord’s table and, finally, the ultimate fellowship in God’s kingdom. In all three types there is the religious experience of knowing that life comes from God,13 of the festive occasion in sharing food, and of sharing food with the hungry.

The community under Bonhoeffer’s guidance was not without work. The first hour of the day belongs to God in worship, the other hours belong to God in work. Worship without work is as one-sided as work without worship. The day should be closed with thanksgiving and worship. Worship in the evening includes prayer for the community, the pastor, the poor, neglected, sick, dying, and for all people. The evening prayer should include also the confession of sin — both to God and to those against whom one has sinned — as well as seeking God’s protection through the night when man is deep in the helplessness of sleep.

PERSONAL WORSHIP

Life Together moves from general to personal worship. Bonhoeffer warns of two extremes: "Let him who cannot be alone beware of community," and, "Let him who is not in community beware of being alone."14 Silence is important, but it is silent obedience to the Word of God. Aloneness is necessary, but it does not become monastic. Solitude and silence have therapeutic values. After a time of quietness, one can meet people and events in a refreshed way.

Solitude and silence are important for three purposes. First, meditation. Meditation is the time of personal reflection on brief readings of the Scripture, not in order to sermonize, but to ask the question: what does God say to me in this text? Meditation is not a time of spiritual experimenting, a think-session for novel ideas, or a time for manufacturing unusual experiences. In meditation and through Scripture one seeks God.

Second, prayer. Out of meditation on Scripture comes guidance for prayer. Praying on the basis of Scripture is a means of avoiding repetition in prayer and emptiness of soul. Positively, it enables us to speak to God about matters too personal for corporate prayer. Bonhoeffer’s advice concerning a wandering mind: pray for the subjects of the straying thoughts and use this as a means of enlarging one’s prayer concerns.

Third, intercession. To bring one’s brother into the presence of God in concern for his needs is to intercede for him. The Christian fellowship lives or dies by what it does in intercession. Intercession is the means of transforming one’s personal attitudes about other people. It is hard to hate one you talk with God about. The intercession of the Christian is a service owed to God and man. Such intercession is more meaningful and fruitful the more definite it is. The importance of this service demands that it be diligently protected by a special time that is regular.

The real test of meditation comes in the crucible of daily experience. Has it made one strong or weak? What happens to the individual affects the community. If the individual is weak, then a sickness invades the community. Bonhoeffer’s beatitude is poignant: "Blessed is he who is alone in the strength of the fellowship and blessed is he who keeps the fellowship in the strength of aloneness."15

TYPES OF MINISTRIES

Bonhoeffer turns next to the ministry and its problems. He analyzes the disciples’ bickering about who should be the greatest among them (Luke 9:46) from the standpoint of advantage, of personal gain, and of power. The struggle for advantage is a rejection of justification by faith in favor of self-justification.16

The Christian must learn to hold his tongue. Evil thoughts are defeated most effectively when they are never reduced to words. In the control of the tongue, personal advice to another is not prohibited, but at the same time criticism must not be offered under the cloak of advice. Criticism is generally a technique used to gain advantage over the other person. We should rather recognize the other person as free in the image of God.

The freedom of each person is necessary for the community. If the fellowship is divided by criticism into the advantaged and the disadvantaged, it will be the death of the community. The strong cannot survive without the weak, but the weak must not be regarded as inferior without their own proper work. "A community which allows unemployed members to exist within it will perish because of them."17 Each person must have purpose, use, and a contribution to make to the life of the community. There can be no superfluous people.

The ministry of meekness follows the ministry of holding one’s tongue. Learning to think of others as deserving and having more honor is meekness. Receiving forgiveness of sin teaches us that we have reached the end of our own way of self-seeking and have cast aside self-righteousness. Seeking honor is detrimental to faith, for honor-seeking is self-centered where faith is Christ-centered. Resentment in the community is the product of honor-seeking.

The meek person not only puts aside self-conceit but also associates with the lowly and in doing so declares himself to be the greatest of sinners. The meek will not excuse his own sins, but will be forgiving in regard to others. Bonhoeffer asks, "How can I possibly serve another person in unfeigned humility if I seriously regard his sinfulness as worse than my own?"18

In reaching out to others there is the ministry of listening. Learning to listen is a vital ministry for Christians and especially clergymen. More inclined to contribute to the point of prattling, the Christian must recapture the art of listening. Listening must be genuine, not the kind that is waiting with half an ear ready to pour out a barrage of answers to other’s problems. Impatient listening is a form of despising other people. Bonhoeffer decries the surrender of therapeutic listening to secular education, because it is an art committed to the Christian by God. But Christians have not been listening to others, and when we do not listen to them we do not hear God.

The ministry of helpfulness is another community activity. "This means, initially, simple assistance in trifling, external matters."19 When one is too busy to help in the lowliest of services, one is guilty of taking a career too seriously. God sends people our way to interrupt us. Their claims are urgent and we must be obedient in ministering to them. We must not be the priest who passes by on the other side reading the Bible. Bonhoeffer compares the monk’s vow of obedience to his abbot to one’s service obligation to one’s brother. In either case our time is not our own. We are God’s to serve others.

The ministry of bearing means "forbearing and sustaining."20 If the Christian does not bear the burden of his brother, how is he different from the pagan? Christ bore our burdens, and we in turn are to bear one another’s burdens. The entire Christian life is that of cross-bearing. If we refuse to bear the burdens of others, we are not bearing the cross. Bearing the other’s burdens may mean accepting him in his freedom and involving a clash with another’s personality, yet God has not given permission to remake any man in our image.

Bearing the burdens of others means we are not to judge others, and are to guard against malicious glee over another’s failure, whether that one is strong or weak. Conversely, it means that whoever needs to be lifted up will receive help. The ministry of bearing may involve forgiving the sins of one’s brother. But when the community is shattered by the sin of one, who is not at fault? It is not his sin alone, but the sin of all who have not interceded in prayer, have failed to give counsel when needed, or have neglected their ministry in the community.

It is only when we have learned to minister on the above levels that we are ready for the ministry of proclaiming. Proclaiming in this context is not related to the pulpit or the ordained ministry, but refers to the communication of the gospel from person to person.. This is the free encounter born out of a relationship where one has truly listened, served, and borne the needs of others. Without this prior ministry, Bonhoeffer declares that our message has already been contradicted.

He raises genuine questions about probing into the sacred life of another. The other person "has his own right, his own responsibility, and even his own duty, to defend himself against unauthorized interference."21 Yet God may hold us responsible for our brother’s life blood.

Against our personal hesitancy, our Christian duty is to help. The word we utter is based upon the premise of not denying our brother his needs. Can we deny help and aid to one who is, as we are, a sinner and stands in danger of judgment? Do we not grant him dignity by declaring that he can be reconciled to God? Would we be Christian to be silent while he faces destruction?

If we are to be obedient to God’s word, we cannot stand idle while our brother falls into sin. Bonhoeffer says that reproof is necessary, for "the practice of discipline in the congregation begins in the smallest circles. Where defection from God’s Word in doctrine or life imperils the family fellowship and with it the whole congregation, the word of admonition and rebuke must be ventured. Nothing can be more cruel than the tenderness that consigns another to his sin."22

Rebuke is simply to call back to the common fellowship. The ministry of rebuking is always in relation to God. Only God can reclaim a person, but he chooses to work through us. His Word must be spoken by us, and through it God works to bring the erring brother to repentance.

When the above qualities of ministering are incarnate in a person, he will minister with authority. Bonhoeffer is critical of the personality cult so frequent in the ministry, whereby people are attached to the man rather than the office. There is authority in the office, but not in the personal glamor of the man. The description in 1 Timothy of the bishop has nothing to say about brilliance, but much about simplicity, faithfulness, sound doctrine, and Christian living. Pastoral authority arises when the ministry admits that it has no authority save that of Christ and his Word.

A PROPOSAL FOR A PROTESTANT CONFESSIONAL

In the last theme, intriguing support is given to confession. >From the standpoint of Protestantism, this is a most interesting chapter. Bonhoeffer states:

The pious fellowship permits no one to be a sinner. So everybody must conceal his sin from himself and from the fellowship. We dare not be sinners. Many Christians are unthinkably horrified when a real sinner is suddenly discovered among the righteous.23

So what do we do? We cover up our sin, and live in hypocrisy. In contrast to this kind of fellowship, the gospel is only for the sinner. We do not have to lie but we can own up to God. Moreover, we are to confess and be confessed to.

The importance of confession centers around the nature of sin. "Sin demands to have a man by himself."24 It isolates him, by desiring to remain unknown. Where there is confession, the way is open for returning to the community. In confession one gives up his evil, gives his heart to God, and finds forgiveness and fellowship. Confession should be on a personal basis between two people, not necessarily to the entire church, for in confession to one member confession is made to all. If there is confession, the sinner is never alone again.

Confession is important for it declares something about ourselves. It says that we are not afraid to be linked with Christ and the ignominy of his death. If we refuse this link we will probably refuse to confess our sins, in which case there is no help. In confession, one experiences depths of humiliation, but it is in humiliation that God conquers man. In confession there is born the joy of forgiveness in Christ.

Confession to a brother is a way of certainty. It guards against self-confession. Confessing my sin to God alone may be merely mental gymnastics whereby I grant myself forgiveness without true confession. It may also explain my feebleness in overcoming sin and the resultant relapses that occur. God’s forgiveness is spoken to me through my brother as I confess to him.

Meaningful confession must concentrate on specific sins. Therefore self-examination as preparation for confession will use the Ten Commandments. In confession one is dealing with real problems, and thus real forgiveness is sought.

To whom shall one confess? Bonhoeffer’s answer is: "He who himself lives beneath the Cross."25 Why not a psychologist? The latter knows human weakness, but not godlessness. He knows something of man’s nature, but not his sin. Only the Christian knows this and knows the need of forgiveness and can pronounce it for God.

There are two dangers in confession. One who hears confessions may regard them as routine. Only those who confess should hear confessions, thus keeping confession from becoming mere form or routine. Bonhoeffer warns the confessant against regarding confession as a pious work, for "confession as a pious work is an invention of the devil."26 But confession rightly used and understood involves God’s offer of grace.

Confession is, finally, related to the holy Communion. Jesus commanded that all should come to worship after they have reconciled themselves with their brother. Before the Lord’s Supper is received there should be general confession on the part of the fellowship. When confession is ended, forgiveness is declared and the people of God share in the fellowship of the table that will be perfected in eternity.

In assessment we must say that Bonhoeffer shows remarkable pastoral insight. Life Together may be regarded as a prolegomena to a minister’s manual. Much more would have to be developed, but it serves well as the foundation. However, certain questions need to be raised about Bonhoeffer’s views in this book. First, he has Luther’s propensity to see Christ everywhere in the Old Testament, particularly in the Psalms. This leads to considerable allegorization of the Scripture under the guise of "theological interpretation." Most interpreters of Scripture regard this as suspect, because it goes beyond the historical-grammatical-critical standard of Scripture interpretation. In this Bonhoeffer follows Luther.

Second, his comments on unison singing seem to be purely aesthetic, and, for American readers, arbitrary. We should remember, however, that German Lutheran churches do not use music for the hymnbooks in the pews, so that it is possible for someone singing parts to be actually showing off his ability, as well as being in danger of singing the wrong notes. For many people, on the other hand, singing in parts is more natural and fitting to one’s voice range. It is also possible to show off in unison singing.

Third, while Bonhoeffer has many valuable thoughts on confession, he is too one-sided in his approach. He admits that one may have "certainty, new life, the Cross, and fellowship without benefit of confession to a brother,"27 but he is concerned with those who need it. The manner of treatment may suggest that most people need confession to another. His treatment is an improvement on the usual Roman Catholic view in which confession is normally relegated to the priestly office. But is there not a danger that psychological benefits may be mistaken for spiritual relief? Does not confession displace the promise and Word of God with a word of a man?

 

NOTES:

1. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together, trans. John W. Doberstein (New York: Harper & Bros., 1954).

2. Ibid., p. 21.

3. Ibid., p. 35

4. Ibid., p. 37

5. Ibid, p. 39.

6. Ibid, p. 44.

7. The imprecatory psalms are those in which the psalmist prays that God will judge his enemies and in their destruction vindicate the psalmist for his faithfulness.

8. Ibid., p. 46.

9. Ibid., p. 48.

10. Ibid., p. 54.

11. Ibid., p. 54.

12. Ibid., p. 60.

13. Ibid., p. 66.

14. Ibid., p. 77.

15. Ibid., p. 89.

16. Ibid., p. 91.

17. Ibid., p. 94.

18. Ibid., pp. 86-97.

19. Ibid., p. 99.

20. Ibid., p. 100.

21. Ibid., p. 105.

22. Ibid., p. 107.

23. Ibid., p. 110.

24. Ibid., p. 112.

25. Ibid., p. 119.

26. Ibid., p. 120.

27. Ibid., p. 117.