J. C. Beker on the Theology of Paul

Beker, J. Christiaan. The Triumph of God: The Essence of Paul's Thought. Translated by Loren T. Struckenbruck. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1990.

How should the letters of Paul be interpreted? Is there a key that will unlock the door to understanding? In The Triumph of God, the late J. Christiaan Beker, who then taught New Testament Theology at Princeton Theological Seminary, presented his answers to those questions.

In 1980 Beker published Paul the Apostle: The Triumph of God in Life and Thought (Fortress Press, 1980), an insightful and provocative book which established him as a leading interpreter of the Apostle. In 1988, he issued a German, popular-level abridgment of the first book. His abridgment contains concepts from another of his previous works, Paul's Apocalyptic Gospel (Fortress, 1982).

The Triumph of God is Loren T. Struckenbruck's translation of Beker's German work of 1988 with an appendix entitled "Paul the Theologian." So, the book I'm reviewing here was at the time Beker's most recent attempt to explain to a popular audience what Paul's letters were, and are, all about.

Following the preface, which introduces the reader to Beker's basic concepts, "Part One: The Pauline Letter" presents his answer to the question of identifying the universal truth conveyed in Paul's contingent, occasional letters. Beker explains that this historical enterprise has often sacrificed the contingency and particularity of Paul's letters in order to gain coherence and "catholicity," which other attempts to interpret Paul conjecture too much. He critiques what he calls the "catholic solution" in which the author of Acts is said to have reduced the entirety of Paul's thought to a minimum. This solution stands behind several textual variants among Paul's letters which would give them a more universal appeal.

Second, Beker faults the "Marcionite solution" for its arbitrary attempts to identify the center of Paul's thought, attempts which sacrifice the situational character of the Apostle's letters in order to "discover" their doctrinal core.

Third, the "psychological solution," which proposes Paul's developing religious psyche as the basis for discontinuity or diversity among his letters, mistakes a conjecture for a real answer. For Beker, the satisfactory answer must be rooted in something firmer than mere speculation about Paul's religious psychology.

Having dispensed with what he considers misguided attempts to understand Paul, Beker turns to his own two-part solution. First, Paul's letters represent a dialectic, an interaction between the Apostle's thought (which is coherent) and the situations to which he writes (which are contingent). This approach rightly views Paul not as a systematic theologian who wrote timeless, doctrinal treatises, but as a missionary interpreter of the gospel who wrote occasional letters to churches in a variety of unique situations. Second, the coherence of Paul's thought is rooted in his Jewish apocalyptic worldview, which is the "basic framework" of his gospel. Beker outlines what he means by "apocalyptic worldview": (a) the faithfulness and vindication of God, (b) the universal salvation of the world, (c) the dualistic structure of the world, and (d) the imminent coming of God in glory" (p. 21). Then he elaborates on each point.

In "Part Two: Theological Consequences," Beker demonstrates his first thesis by revealing contingency in Romans and Galatians. With seasoned observation he notes, for example, that in Galatians 3 Paul's argument centers on Christ, the seed of Abraham, as the object of faith; but in Romans 4 it is rather the God of Abraham who is the object of faith. These sorts of distinctions reveal that, far from being a timeless systematic theology and its abstract (as they are typically portrayed), Romans and Galatians employ basic symbols such as "law," "Abraham," and "faith" in significantly different ways.

Next, Beker demonstrates his second thesis that it is the apocalyptic background that represents the real coherence in Paul's thought. Examining the Apostle's interpretation of the death and resurrection of Jesus, his triumph over demonic powers in his cross, and the Christian life of anticipation, the author shows that Paul's thought is, indeed, rooted in an apocalyptic outlook. Beker adds a chapter in which he discusses the close tie between sin and death in Paul's thought, along with Paul's understanding of the Law as both good but also instrumental in the hands of death.

Finally, the appendix underscores, first the need to find the coherence of Paul's thought at a level beneath the text of his letters and, second, the transparency of apocalyptic as that coherent center, a quality lacking in other attempts to interpret the Apostle. A useful bibliography, index of passages cited, and index of names round out the book.

At least two questions arise in response to Beker's position. First, will not the "fluid" and "subtextual" center of Paul's theology allow for a more open stance toward questions of authorship? (Beker denies the Pauline authorship of Ephesians, Colossians, 2 Thessalonians, and the so-called Pastoral Epistles). In other words, how can the flexible coherence of Paul's thought become the final arbiter in deciding which letters should be attributed to him? Second, if the apocalyptic framework and semantic system which are necessary to a true understanding of Paul's message no longer exist as such, in what way can his "truth of the gospel" be proclaimed in our contemporary setting?

Notwithstanding such questions, preachers, teachers, and other serious students of Paul can profitably use this book to understand one of the Apostle's leading modern interpreters who consistently provides penetrating insight into Paul's thought and letters.

Note: An earlier version of this review first appeared in Restoration Quarterly, Volume 35, Number 1, 1993.

Religious Responses to Modernism

I want to start developing a series of short exercises for students of history and theology. This project will partially fulfill the requirements for a degree program where I'm expected to turn in complete syllabi for college history courses. The title of this post is the theme for the exercise: "Religious Responses to Modernism."

According to The New Oxford American Dictionary, modernism is "a movement toward modifying traditional beliefs in accordance with modern ideas." I understand that there are narrower definitions of the term. See, for example, the definition provided in the Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church. But here I use the word "modernism" in that very broad sense of the definition I've quoted.

During the 19th and 20th centuries, in both Europe and America, developments like Darwinism, Modern Geology, and Higher Criticism of the Bible placed enormous pressure on Christianity and Judaism. In the modern world, tradition was no longer the judge of truth. Now, it seemed, tradition was the accused. Science and reason were the new arbiters of truth.

Of course, nowhere did modernism cause more controversy than it did in its encounter with religion. In the following short readings, you will get a taste of some of the various religious responses to the rise and strength of modernism. As you read these, notice their similarities and differences. Take note especially of the different responses to the same basic issue.

Reform Judaism: In 1885, Kaufmann Kohler of New York called together Reform Jewish rabbis from around the United States. They met from November 16-19, with Isaac Mayer Wise presiding. The meeting was understood to be the continuation of the Philadelphia Conference of 1869, which built upon German conferences held in the 1840s. In 1885, the rabbis adopted what is known as the Pittsburgh Platform.

Roman Catholicism: Pope Pius X was born in 1835 in Upper Venetia. He was elected Pope in 1903 and died in 1914. In September 1910, Pius issued the Sacrorum antistitum, The Oath Against Modernism. All religious leaders of the Roman Catholic Church were required to swear to this statement until is was rescinded in July 1967.

Protestantism: Benjamin B. Warfield was born in 1851 near Lexington, Kentucky. He was a conservative Protestant Christian who taught at Princeton Seminary from 1887 until he died in 1921. A prolific writer, Warfield served as editor of the Presbyterian Review from 1890 to 1903. Around this time, he published the essay, Christianity and Our Times.

Karl Barth on "Double Predestination"

At the moment, I can't document the following quote from Karl Barth. But it's just so juicy I had to pass it along:

If the teachers of predestination were right when they spoke always of a duality, of election and reprobation, of predestination to salvation or perdition, to life or death, then we may say already that in the election of Jesus Christ which is the eternal will of God, God has ascribed to man the former, election, salvation and life; and to Himself He has ascribed the latter, reprobation, perdition and death. If it is indeed the case that the divine good-pleasure which was the beginning of all things with God carries with it the risk and threat of negation, then it is so because the Son of God incarnate represents and Himself is this divine good-pleasure. The risk and threat is the portion which the Son of God, i.e., God Himself, has chosen for His own.

Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible

Over the past year or two, I've noticed the publication of several volumes in a new series called the Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible. R. R. Reno (pictured here) is the series editor. Reno is a professor of theology at Creighton University and authored the Brazos volume on the Book of Genesis.

Of all the commentary sets out there, I have to say this one intrigues me the most. For one thing, you might not always recognize the names of the authors. Most preachers and teachers expect to see commentaries on New Testament books by well-known specialists like Ben Witherington III, Scot McKnight, Gordon Fee, and the everywhere-all-the-time N. T. Wright. If it's a commentary on an Old Testament book, then you expect names like Tremper Longman, Choon-Leong Seow, Terence Fretheim, and John H. Walton. But none of those names show up on the Brazos list.

Something else about this series: when I do recognize an author's name, it's usually someone who's earned his or her reputation in a field next to biblical studies, not in it. For example, the volume on the Book of Acts was written by the late Yale professor Jaroslav Pelikan, who made his mark as an historian of Christianity and the Middle Ages. Pelikan was a great scholar. But he was not a biblical scholar per se. The commentary on Colossians has been assigned to Christopher Seitz, an Old Testament specialist who, to my knowledge, hasn't published much at all in the area of New Testament (but who has always shown an interest in the theological unity of the Christian Bible). The volume on Matthew is by the popular theologian and ethicist Stanley Hauerwas. And Ellen Charry, a theologian who teaches at Princeton, is scheduled to co-author the commentary on the Book of Psalms.

In short, this series deliberately steers off the beaten path. Instead of biblical specialists, it turns to people who are more theologians to say what they will about the various books of the Bible. This comes across clearly in the official blurb:

Leading theologians read and interpret scripture for today's church, providing guidance for reading the Bible under the rule of faith. Each volume in the Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible is designed to serve the church--through aid in preaching, teaching, study groups, and so forth--and demonstrate the continuing intellectual and practical viability of theological interpretation of the Bible.

It will be interesting to see where this series will go, what impact it might actually make in the way that students of the Bible hear and apply the text. If you need to know the answer to some technical question, there are a handful of resources you can turn to (e.g., Word Biblical Commentary, International Critical Commentary, etc.). But to hear what historian Timothy George might have to say about the Book of James? That sounds especially interesting to me.

So, has anyone out there taken a look at one of the Brazos volumes? What did you think?

Karl Barth and Laughing Angels

In one of his books, Pieter De Jong mentions that Karl Barth once said that the angels must laugh a lot. They laugh, said Barth, because he kept writing one volume after another about God, as though the Almighty could be captured in books.

They also laugh, he said, because other people would actually read and focus on what he was saying. Barth thought it was much more important for Christians to actually wrestle with the topics and questions that he was taking up, rather than to merely digest or repeat what he had to say about anything.

With no more than that, a new or continuing reader of Karl Barth can get a glimpse of two very important facets of the man and his work:

First, the part about the angels reveals how Barth, though a hard-working and serious theologian, never took himself or his own words too seriously. His writings certainly are dense and demanding. But the undertone is hardly ever dour and gloomy. It's usually something more like delightful.

Take, for example, the last sentence of the "Foreward to the Torchbook Edition" of his book Dogmatics in Outline: "He who, after learning a little about the meaning of 'dogmatics,' undertakes to delve more into detail, will, I promise, discover (regardless of the method he may employ) in this theological discipline and in theology in general a great amount of thrilling, and beautiful tasks which are fruitful for the Church and for the world." I love a teacher who thinks like that.

Second, the part about our wrestling with the questions points to Barth's conviction that in every successive period the church is obligated to question what has been said before and to identify and speak the truth in the language of that particular day.

The great historic Christian creeds, for example, show us how believers in earlier times worked through and answered the questions of their day. But even the best creeds and the greatest books do not relieve us from trying to do in our time what those good people did in theirs. Karl Barth believed that anytime the church speaks primarily in the language of decades or centuries gone by, you know that it has failed to take up its responsibility before God.

That's what he was all about, faithfully speaking the true Word of God in the language and to the situation(s) of his day.

Blogging about Barth

Next year will mark the 40th anniversary of the death of Karl Barth (1886-1968). In his fine little book, Concise Dictionary of Christian Theology, Millard Erikson writes in his entry for "Barth, Karl":

Swiss theologian generally thought of as the founder of neo-orthodoxy. He may well be the most influential Protestant theologian of the twentieth century.

At this point, I'm planning to write a few things about him--his life and work and legacy. Maybe a thing or two will wind up getting published next year.

This post is my way of jump starting the process of my own study at a place where your feedback is possible. Already, I've posted a couple of things where I try to explain a bit about Karl, here and here.

Getting into this is kind of ironic for me. I don't really think of myself as a "Barthian" in any sense, although what Karl has to say usually resonates with me in some way or another.

At other times, I don't think I understand much of what he's talking about. So part of what's motivating me is an interest in getting a better idea of what Barth was saying, and what he was trying to accomplish. Also, if I wind up talking about him in print, it should be informed, right? Besides, I'm curious to go back and revisit the question, What's all the fuss about? Barth has always generated a tremendous response and reaction.

Anyway, what experiences have you had in reading Karl Barth? And what do you think are the most enduring contributions that he made?

Natural Theology: Is it Christian?

Mike Cope set off quite a discussion yesterday when he quoted from a new book by Samuel Harris.

Harris recently gained a good bit of attention when he published “The End of Faith: Religion, Terror, and the Future of Reason.” His more-recent book—the one that Mike was quoting—is called “Letter to a Christian Nation.”

Except for the few snippets I’ve come across, I haven’t read either of Harris’ books. But I gather that both of them advance ideas like:

• Biblical religion is deeply flawed. In fact, it’s just plain bad. If someone had to pick a religion to practice, there are better choices than Christianity.
• In practice, Christians renounce what they say they believe and are committed to. They don’t practice what they preach.
• The commonly-known Christian variety of supernatural theism—where, for example, people can pray expecting that God will act in response, even transcending the laws of nature—is irrational.

All of this led me back to questions I’ve had for what seems like a long time to me. Questions like:

How should the church respond to the Samuel Harrises of the world (assuming that it should)? That is, given our situation, where unbelievers make public assertions designed to refute the claims of Christianity and embarrass the commitment of religious faith, how should Christians respond?

What does the way of Christ teach us about how to handle our ever-popular, in-the-news debates between faith and unbelief, reason and religion, science and Scripture?

Most of all, I come back to this question: To what extent is it Christian for believers, as part of the church’s evangelistic thrust, to advance and defend arguments for the existence of God?

Now, if you come from the same place I do, then you’re likely to say that it is only right for Christians to rationally advance theism. In fact, if someone says that he loves his neighbor as himself, and that he completely loves the God who saves us through His Son, how could that person do anything less than to try to convince the atheist or the agnostic of the existence of God? After all, once the unbeliever is convinced of the reality of God, that person can then be led to Christ, the Son of God.

It’s interesting. Karl Barth, the man regarded by many as the greatest Christian theologian of the 20th century, said that what I just described is not, in fact, Christian. Why did he say that? I’ll explain next time.