(reference: William B. Evans, Imputation and Impartation)
In the era of Reformed Orthodoxy, however, the ordo salutis becomes an increasingly prominent feature of theological schemas. Whereas Calvin held the extrinsic and forensic union with Christ together with the experience of the transforming work of the Holy Spirit, these now become separate moments in the ‘golden chain’ of salvation. The notion of the ‘substantial’ union of the believer with Christ drops out, and is replaced by theories of ‘virtual communion’ – which is to say, union with Christ is elided with the benefits formerly ascribed to union with Christ – receiving the forensic benefits of salvation and experiencing the transforming work of the Holy Spirit. This can be seen in the work of John Owen, for example.
The rise of the ordo salutis in the early seventeenth century was in the first instance a device designed to counter problems of personal assurance. In order to preserve the sheer graciousness of justification, it was separated from sanctification and placed in a different dogmatic locus. Salvation is not now the organic unity that is observable in Calvin’s work; it becomes a series of acts.
What this means is it the unio Christi becomes bifurcated in federal theology. The union with Christ that results in justification is a forensic relationship by which Christ as the federal head passes on his righteousness by imputation to the believer. The union that passes on the transforming benefits of the Holy Spirit is another By the time of Samuel Rutherford (1600-1661), writing in the mid-seventeenth century, different unions with Christ are beings distinguished – ‘Legal’, on the one hand, and ‘Mystical’, on the other. Further, the adoption of the federal terminology stressed the extrinsic, especially with regards to imputation.
In a parallel movement, the piety of the Puritans also utilized ‘union with Christ’ as an idea, and exerted its own influence on Reformed theology. Calvin’s notion of the union with the humanity of Christ as the means by which redemption is applied to us disappears; and in its place the humanity of Christ becomes an object of devotion. The sacraments feature less and less as a means by which Christ’s presence is mediated to the believers, and instead Puritan piety turns inward to find the activity and reality of Christ.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Union with Christ
The unio mystica sive praesentia gratiae tantum, the ‘mystical union’ or ‘union by the presence of grace alone’ refers to the special union ‘founded on the indwelling grace of God in Christ, that occurs between God and the believer in and through regeneration’ (Muller). It is a consistent feature of orthodox Reformed and Lutheran theological dogmatics. Remarkably given its prominence in the New Testament, it hadn't been the stimulus for much theological reflection prior to this - perhaps because sacramental theology was doing the 'work' that it now does in Protestant thinking.
The term ‘mystical’ is used because it rests on the mystery of grace and the mercy of God. It is also referred to as the unio spiritualis because this union is of the Spirit. The believer’s ingrafting into Christ constitutes the foundation of the Christian life. A number of New Testament metaphors are picked up in this teaching (vine,/branches, body/head) and also the en Christo terminology which appears so often. The believer’s individuality is not dissolved or thwarted in this union. Rather, it is the work of the Holy Spirit which produces faith and enables the believers to share in the blessings of the work of Christ.
John Murray observed that "Union with Christ is a very inclusive subject. It embraces the wide span of salvation from the ultimate source in the eternal election of God to its final fruition in the glorification of the elect." If we may observe one thing about how the doctrine has been treated in the Reformed tradition it might be that this very inclusivity and breadth makes it difficult to locate in the dogmatic system. It operates rather as the connective tissue between various doctrinal topics - as a motif rather than as a doctrine itself. Furthermore, the language of ‘union’ with Christ has led inevitably to some misconstruals.
IN CALVIN
Calvin scholars like Alister McGrath and Charles Partee have latterly recognised how pervasive and comprehensive Calvin’s doctrine of the unio mystica is. According to McGrath, Calvin utilises the concept of the distinctio sed non separatio drawn from Chalcedonian Christology. That is: the separateness yet distinction of the two natures in the hypostatic union is, for Calvin, the pattern for divine-human relationship found also in the unio mystica. Though the doctrine relates to the doctrines of justification and sanctification and how the believer receives these benefits of Christ’s death, the doctrine is also profoundly Trinitarian.
The basis for our union with Christ is the electing will of God the Father who chooses us ‘in Christ’ before the foundation of the world. Our union with Christ is an expression of the love and mercy of God himself (Inst II xvi.4); and in union with Christ we are brought into relationship with God through the Spirit of adoption, thereby experiencing the paternal love of God the Father. Calvin will refer to Christ himself as ‘the bond of our union with God’.
Calvin writes:
By partaking of him, we principally receive a double grace: namely that being reconciled to God through Christ’s blamelessness, we may have in heaven instead of a Judge a gracious Father; and secondly, that sanctified by Christ’s Spirit we may cultivate blamelessness and purity of life. (Inst III.11.1)
Union with Christ thus has a twin focus for Calvin. From union with Christ flow both justification – which occurs externally to the believer – and sanctification – which occurs internally. Not only is the forensic imputation of righteousness accomplished through union with Christ, but the life of Christ is also imparted to the believer as the basis for his or her sanctification. Both justification and sanctification are, as Evans writes, ‘subsumed under a more comprehensive reality – union with Christ.’ It is possible even to go so far as to conclude that the notion of unio Christi has for Calvin a causal priority in his soteriological thought. Justification is not dependent on sanctification, nor is it a response to justification.
In what does the union with Christ consist? Calvin holds that believers are united with the incarnate humanity of Christ. Christ’s mediatorial work and the benefits that flow from it – including, for Calvin, the imputation of Christ’s righteousness - are received by union with the substantia of the humanity of Christ. This notion pervades his teaching on the sacraments as a (in some way) real appropriation of Christ by the believer. ‘Calvin’s doctrine of union with Christ, as expounded in Book III and IV of the Institution and clarified in the context of Eucharistic debates, affirms nothing less than the reception by the believer of the substance, the very being, of the incarnate Christ. This union is the impartation of the life of the risen Christ to the believer, albeit in a manner which does not diminish the personal individuality of both Christ and the individual believer’ (William B. Evans, Imputation and Impartation – Union with Christ in American Reformed Theology, Milton Keynes: Paternoster, 2008 p.28). Justification involves not simply a forensic, past act of God through Christ in the past – it also involves communion with the person of the living Christ. It is likely that Calvin intended this notion of substantial union to indicate an ontological reality. Evans complains that this notion is underexplained by Calvin, which leaves open the possibilities of revision or rejection in subsequent generations.
Intriguingly, Calvin places sanctification before justification in the Institutes. This may have been to head off Roman Catholic charges that Protestant teaching on justification made good works redundant. But it reveals also just how closely the two were tied together in Calvin’s thought. The mediatorial person of Christ, together with the Holy Spirit binds the two together. ‘...the forensic and transforming benefits of salvation are inseparable because both are communicated to the believer in the same way through union with the mediatorial person of Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit’ (Evans). Calvin does not posit a particular ordo salutis with a single moment at which a divine declaration is announced.
Next: Union with Christ in Federal Calvinism
The term ‘mystical’ is used because it rests on the mystery of grace and the mercy of God. It is also referred to as the unio spiritualis because this union is of the Spirit. The believer’s ingrafting into Christ constitutes the foundation of the Christian life. A number of New Testament metaphors are picked up in this teaching (vine,/branches, body/head) and also the en Christo terminology which appears so often. The believer’s individuality is not dissolved or thwarted in this union. Rather, it is the work of the Holy Spirit which produces faith and enables the believers to share in the blessings of the work of Christ.
John Murray observed that "Union with Christ is a very inclusive subject. It embraces the wide span of salvation from the ultimate source in the eternal election of God to its final fruition in the glorification of the elect." If we may observe one thing about how the doctrine has been treated in the Reformed tradition it might be that this very inclusivity and breadth makes it difficult to locate in the dogmatic system. It operates rather as the connective tissue between various doctrinal topics - as a motif rather than as a doctrine itself. Furthermore, the language of ‘union’ with Christ has led inevitably to some misconstruals.
IN CALVIN
Calvin scholars like Alister McGrath and Charles Partee have latterly recognised how pervasive and comprehensive Calvin’s doctrine of the unio mystica is. According to McGrath, Calvin utilises the concept of the distinctio sed non separatio drawn from Chalcedonian Christology. That is: the separateness yet distinction of the two natures in the hypostatic union is, for Calvin, the pattern for divine-human relationship found also in the unio mystica. Though the doctrine relates to the doctrines of justification and sanctification and how the believer receives these benefits of Christ’s death, the doctrine is also profoundly Trinitarian.
The basis for our union with Christ is the electing will of God the Father who chooses us ‘in Christ’ before the foundation of the world. Our union with Christ is an expression of the love and mercy of God himself (Inst II xvi.4); and in union with Christ we are brought into relationship with God through the Spirit of adoption, thereby experiencing the paternal love of God the Father. Calvin will refer to Christ himself as ‘the bond of our union with God’.
Calvin writes:
By partaking of him, we principally receive a double grace: namely that being reconciled to God through Christ’s blamelessness, we may have in heaven instead of a Judge a gracious Father; and secondly, that sanctified by Christ’s Spirit we may cultivate blamelessness and purity of life. (Inst III.11.1)
Union with Christ thus has a twin focus for Calvin. From union with Christ flow both justification – which occurs externally to the believer – and sanctification – which occurs internally. Not only is the forensic imputation of righteousness accomplished through union with Christ, but the life of Christ is also imparted to the believer as the basis for his or her sanctification. Both justification and sanctification are, as Evans writes, ‘subsumed under a more comprehensive reality – union with Christ.’ It is possible even to go so far as to conclude that the notion of unio Christi has for Calvin a causal priority in his soteriological thought. Justification is not dependent on sanctification, nor is it a response to justification.
In what does the union with Christ consist? Calvin holds that believers are united with the incarnate humanity of Christ. Christ’s mediatorial work and the benefits that flow from it – including, for Calvin, the imputation of Christ’s righteousness - are received by union with the substantia of the humanity of Christ. This notion pervades his teaching on the sacraments as a (in some way) real appropriation of Christ by the believer. ‘Calvin’s doctrine of union with Christ, as expounded in Book III and IV of the Institution and clarified in the context of Eucharistic debates, affirms nothing less than the reception by the believer of the substance, the very being, of the incarnate Christ. This union is the impartation of the life of the risen Christ to the believer, albeit in a manner which does not diminish the personal individuality of both Christ and the individual believer’ (William B. Evans, Imputation and Impartation – Union with Christ in American Reformed Theology, Milton Keynes: Paternoster, 2008 p.28). Justification involves not simply a forensic, past act of God through Christ in the past – it also involves communion with the person of the living Christ. It is likely that Calvin intended this notion of substantial union to indicate an ontological reality. Evans complains that this notion is underexplained by Calvin, which leaves open the possibilities of revision or rejection in subsequent generations.
Intriguingly, Calvin places sanctification before justification in the Institutes. This may have been to head off Roman Catholic charges that Protestant teaching on justification made good works redundant. But it reveals also just how closely the two were tied together in Calvin’s thought. The mediatorial person of Christ, together with the Holy Spirit binds the two together. ‘...the forensic and transforming benefits of salvation are inseparable because both are communicated to the believer in the same way through union with the mediatorial person of Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit’ (Evans). Calvin does not posit a particular ordo salutis with a single moment at which a divine declaration is announced.
Next: Union with Christ in Federal Calvinism
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Broughton Knox on Limited Atonement
Bavinck complained at the beginning of the twentieth century that there were very few who held to the teaching of particular satisfaction in his day. Charles Hodge and WGT Shedd had propounded it in the nineteenth century, but Bavinck writes rather wistfully ‘it has been almost universally abandoned.’ Certainly, the evangelical movement, though Calvinist in many of its parts, had not majored on this particular distinctive. Charles Simeon and Bishop JC Ryle, for example, opposed it. Unity with other evangelicals in mission was more important.
While there has been a latter-day resurgence in Reformed theology, it has not ended the controversy among the Reformed themselves over particular redemption/limited atonement. Sydney diocese has been famous (notorious?) as a place which, while claiming the heritage of Calvinism, on the whole has been reluctant to stand with the majority Reformed position on the matter of limited or definite atonement.
Broughton Knox’s piece ‘Some Aspects of the Atonement’ reveals the particular theological commitments that led him and others to deny limited atonement while at the same time happily wearing the ‘Calvinist’ badge. In his usual rather disjointed and compressed style, Knox argues both from theological concepts (the incarnation and so on) down and from exegesis (2 Peter 2) up. Interestingly, though he uses few footnotes (did he ever?), he picks up some of McCleod Campbell’s points about Christ’s perfect obedience being the obedience demanded of every human person and not just the elect.
He clarifies: ‘The extent of Christ’s work is not limited in itself, but only in the intentions and purposes of God, and consequently in the application of its benefits to those whom God had foreknown and predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son’ (p. 261). Knox contends that the atonement makes all people savable, if they will repent and believe. But only the elect do so, for only they receive the necessary grace. Limited atonement, he claims, denies the propriety of preaching to the consciences of the unconverted their duty to repent and believe the gospel.
Furthermore, Knox points out that limited atonement is a ‘textless doctrine’ – which criticism must be a killer blow to any putative Reformed teaching. Certainly, the Bible affirms that Christ dies for the elect: but it does not say that he died for them only. If the notion of substitution is pressed into service in defence of limited atonement, as it is done by Warfield among others, Knox complains that in fact this misunderstands the need for regeneration; and falls into the trap of conceiving the atonement in a pecuniary way. Particularism, characteristic of Calvinism, is not be applied to the moment of the making of the decree, nor is prior to the decree of atonement. The atonement is general, the application particular. Knox concludes: ‘Limited atonement as commonly propounded, introduces unscriptural concepts into the doctrine of God’s relation to the world, and may prove an Achilles’ heel for the revival of Reformed theology’.
I am not sure that he is a successful prophet in this regard. What I would say is that, to be perfectly fair, though he makes some telling points, Knox's critique is aimed at a version of Limited Atonement which lies at the extremes of the discussion. The scriptural testimony as to the definiteness and particularity of the atonement seems undeniable; but that definiteness cannot be thought of in terms of an amount or value. That's a mistake with the metaphor which the term 'limited' exacerbates, it seems to me. The testimony to the definiteness of the work of Christ for the elect does not place a visible parameter around that work in some way. But it does uphold the purposefulness and intentionality of God in salvation, and the priority of his action in salvation. The definiteness of the atonement should not be asserted out of the context of the cosmic scope of the atonement (Col 1:15ff). Charles Hodge - who advocates particular redemption - I think strikes a nice balance. There is little I could contend against in his account.
Limited Atonement is asserted in order to protect the doctrine of election. My hunch, without yet having the exegetical leg-work to back it up, is that the passages that have to do with election are more complex and variegated than are allowed in Systematic Theology. Divine election seems to have a this-worldly sphere of meaning in some passages, and an eternal sphere in others. That is, God 'elects' some people or peoples within history for certain purposes (Abraham; Israel) and also elects some for the age to come. The two elections do not necessarily exactly coincide. I think Romans 9-11 (again a hunch) has more than one view of election in mind. He also elects individually and corporately.
The question would then be: how many passages bring together election and salvation and in what way do they do so? A more complex and nuanced picture might then emerge, which will allay the concerns of the proponent of Definite Atonement - that salvation is now a matter not of Christ's work but of human choice; and the concerns of the Amyraldian - that Scriptural testimony to the universal sufficiency of the atonement is being undermined if not outright denied.
While there has been a latter-day resurgence in Reformed theology, it has not ended the controversy among the Reformed themselves over particular redemption/limited atonement. Sydney diocese has been famous (notorious?) as a place which, while claiming the heritage of Calvinism, on the whole has been reluctant to stand with the majority Reformed position on the matter of limited or definite atonement.
Broughton Knox’s piece ‘Some Aspects of the Atonement’ reveals the particular theological commitments that led him and others to deny limited atonement while at the same time happily wearing the ‘Calvinist’ badge. In his usual rather disjointed and compressed style, Knox argues both from theological concepts (the incarnation and so on) down and from exegesis (2 Peter 2) up. Interestingly, though he uses few footnotes (did he ever?), he picks up some of McCleod Campbell’s points about Christ’s perfect obedience being the obedience demanded of every human person and not just the elect.
He clarifies: ‘The extent of Christ’s work is not limited in itself, but only in the intentions and purposes of God, and consequently in the application of its benefits to those whom God had foreknown and predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son’ (p. 261). Knox contends that the atonement makes all people savable, if they will repent and believe. But only the elect do so, for only they receive the necessary grace. Limited atonement, he claims, denies the propriety of preaching to the consciences of the unconverted their duty to repent and believe the gospel.
Furthermore, Knox points out that limited atonement is a ‘textless doctrine’ – which criticism must be a killer blow to any putative Reformed teaching. Certainly, the Bible affirms that Christ dies for the elect: but it does not say that he died for them only. If the notion of substitution is pressed into service in defence of limited atonement, as it is done by Warfield among others, Knox complains that in fact this misunderstands the need for regeneration; and falls into the trap of conceiving the atonement in a pecuniary way. Particularism, characteristic of Calvinism, is not be applied to the moment of the making of the decree, nor is prior to the decree of atonement. The atonement is general, the application particular. Knox concludes: ‘Limited atonement as commonly propounded, introduces unscriptural concepts into the doctrine of God’s relation to the world, and may prove an Achilles’ heel for the revival of Reformed theology’.
I am not sure that he is a successful prophet in this regard. What I would say is that, to be perfectly fair, though he makes some telling points, Knox's critique is aimed at a version of Limited Atonement which lies at the extremes of the discussion. The scriptural testimony as to the definiteness and particularity of the atonement seems undeniable; but that definiteness cannot be thought of in terms of an amount or value. That's a mistake with the metaphor which the term 'limited' exacerbates, it seems to me. The testimony to the definiteness of the work of Christ for the elect does not place a visible parameter around that work in some way. But it does uphold the purposefulness and intentionality of God in salvation, and the priority of his action in salvation. The definiteness of the atonement should not be asserted out of the context of the cosmic scope of the atonement (Col 1:15ff). Charles Hodge - who advocates particular redemption - I think strikes a nice balance. There is little I could contend against in his account.
Limited Atonement is asserted in order to protect the doctrine of election. My hunch, without yet having the exegetical leg-work to back it up, is that the passages that have to do with election are more complex and variegated than are allowed in Systematic Theology. Divine election seems to have a this-worldly sphere of meaning in some passages, and an eternal sphere in others. That is, God 'elects' some people or peoples within history for certain purposes (Abraham; Israel) and also elects some for the age to come. The two elections do not necessarily exactly coincide. I think Romans 9-11 (again a hunch) has more than one view of election in mind. He also elects individually and corporately.
The question would then be: how many passages bring together election and salvation and in what way do they do so? A more complex and nuanced picture might then emerge, which will allay the concerns of the proponent of Definite Atonement - that salvation is now a matter not of Christ's work but of human choice; and the concerns of the Amyraldian - that Scriptural testimony to the universal sufficiency of the atonement is being undermined if not outright denied.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Vanhoozer at the Wheaton Conference
I very much enjoyed listening to Kevin Vanhoozer's talk on Tom Wright at the recent Wheaton Conference - not the least because of the way he talks about the 'dialogical virtues' at the end. He certainly levels some strong criticisms at Wright, as well as his opponents. But it is done in exactly the right way - without caricature.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Ten observations on re-reading the New Testament as a whole
1. How often Christians are enjoined to forgive, or to bear with one another, or to practice gentleness or patience.
2. How incredibly subtle Acts is as a narrative.
3. How much the issue of the inclusion of the Gentiles drives everything from mission to ecclesiology to ethics - and how reflection on this issue drives us back to theology and soteriology and even to creation. Wow.
4. How much and how often Paul has to defend his legitimacy as an apostle.
5. How personal and particular the documents are - they abound with the names of real people about whom we know so tantalizingly little (See Romans 16).
6. How huge the scope is - given that the church was small, scattered, persecuted and divided, how incredible that the NT writers are able to make cosmological statements about their gospel. (see Col 1:15ff for example).
7. What a majestic piece of writing Ephesians is. After reading the Corinthian correspondence, you could be forgiven for despairing somewhat.
8. How complicated the issue of the ongoing relevance of the law for the Christian life is.
9. How rich the NT is when you add to the Pauline vocabulary and outlook the Johannine, Petrine and Jamesian takes.
10. How sublime and yet how pastoral Hebrews is, charting a narrow course between a supremely grounded confidence in the sacrificial blood of Christ and the severe warnings against apostacy.
2. How incredibly subtle Acts is as a narrative.
3. How much the issue of the inclusion of the Gentiles drives everything from mission to ecclesiology to ethics - and how reflection on this issue drives us back to theology and soteriology and even to creation. Wow.
4. How much and how often Paul has to defend his legitimacy as an apostle.
5. How personal and particular the documents are - they abound with the names of real people about whom we know so tantalizingly little (See Romans 16).
6. How huge the scope is - given that the church was small, scattered, persecuted and divided, how incredible that the NT writers are able to make cosmological statements about their gospel. (see Col 1:15ff for example).
7. What a majestic piece of writing Ephesians is. After reading the Corinthian correspondence, you could be forgiven for despairing somewhat.
8. How complicated the issue of the ongoing relevance of the law for the Christian life is.
9. How rich the NT is when you add to the Pauline vocabulary and outlook the Johannine, Petrine and Jamesian takes.
10. How sublime and yet how pastoral Hebrews is, charting a narrow course between a supremely grounded confidence in the sacrificial blood of Christ and the severe warnings against apostacy.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
Joshua Whitfield - Pilgrim Holiness
Joshua Whitfield's book on martyrdom, Pilgrim Holiness - Martyrdom as Descriptive Witness, has arrived in my pigeon hole and I am fascinated to begin reading it. I had the privilege of seeing some of the work in its unpublished form. Here's a taste:
Christian martyrdom should be renewed in the church's memory and in the imagination of individual Christians. Martyrs should not be relegated to an embarassing and unenlightened past, nor should they be made to fit sociologically and politically acceptable models. Rather, martyrs should be remembered for their witness to Jesus. Martyrs should be embraced as those who disclose and also compel the unity of all Christians, of all those who inhabit the same narrative horizon. Only when the Church receives this gift, when Christians are willing to inhabit the narrtive of the Church in the face of every other divisive narrative of nation, race, class, denomination, or gender, will they be able to give witness to what is believed to be a more lasting peace, which passes all understanding. (p. 126)
I am interested that he concludes on this note, emphasising the unity of the Church. I am not sure I would have gone the same route. Of course, many of the greatest martyrs of the Church's history have been killed by professing Christians...
Christian martyrdom should be renewed in the church's memory and in the imagination of individual Christians. Martyrs should not be relegated to an embarassing and unenlightened past, nor should they be made to fit sociologically and politically acceptable models. Rather, martyrs should be remembered for their witness to Jesus. Martyrs should be embraced as those who disclose and also compel the unity of all Christians, of all those who inhabit the same narrative horizon. Only when the Church receives this gift, when Christians are willing to inhabit the narrtive of the Church in the face of every other divisive narrative of nation, race, class, denomination, or gender, will they be able to give witness to what is believed to be a more lasting peace, which passes all understanding. (p. 126)
I am interested that he concludes on this note, emphasising the unity of the Church. I am not sure I would have gone the same route. Of course, many of the greatest martyrs of the Church's history have been killed by professing Christians...
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Ethics and Eschatology in 1 Corinthians
Apologies for the slow rate of production on this blog of late. I think this has been my least productive period blog-wise in five years or so! Partly it is because I am writing furiously in other places (Anglican Media Sydney for example) and partly because ... well every blogger tends to have doubts about the value of the medium from time to time, right? Anyhow, here's a draft intro to my paper for this year's Moore College School of Theology on 1 Corinthians. My brief is to write about Ethics in 1 Corinthians. Here's what I have so far:
It would be not unreasonable to suspect that the Paul’s ethical teaching in 1 Corinthians is more ad hoc than integrated. After all, isn’t it the case that the pressure of living in the latter days means that Paul’s ethical teaching orients the person away from the present world which is fading - to the point of denigrating it? Although Paul claims that ‘your labour in the Lord is not vain’ (1 Cor 15:58), he has been suspected of preaching a gospel which debases life in the present because ‘the time is short’ – and so the ethical material of the letter is merely a series of improvisations, a matter of staving off the trouble and chaos of to schema. This particular epistle appears to offer support for a long-standing critique of Christian (and specifically Pauline) ethical thought by which it has been charged with having an other-worldly eschatological vision to the end that this-worldly activity is greatly diminished and even deprecated. The claim is that, at its worst, Christian ethical teaching instructs believers in a kind of destructive apocalyptic hatred of the world in favour of the longed-for glorious future. For Paul, Christian ethical action is merely a staving off of the problems of this life, not a taking of it seriously on its own terms. ‘Better by far’, he says to the Philippians, ‘to die and be with Christ’.
This essay will examine the claims of two very different modern thinkers who have attacked Pauline Christianity on this front. Hannah Arendt claims that the triumph of Christian eschatology over the world of the Greeks and the Romans inevitably meant that the vita contemplativa was preferred to the vita activa. For his part, Friedrich Nietzsche argues vehemently that Paul’s eschatology laid the foundation of a life-denial that had kept a (European) civilisation in servility for centuries and had crushed the human spirit. What I shall argue in response is that Paul’s apocalyptic vision in 1 Corinthians describes not the worthlessness of the present order of things compared to the priceless world to come but rather (following J. L. Martyn) the invasion of the present world by that world such that the two coalesce. The ethics that derives from this eschatological vision is not then an avoidance or a disparagement of the sphere of present human living but in fact involves its affirmation and transformation. How this is so I will demonstrate in particular from a reading of the passage which seems most counter to my case – Paul’s discussion of marriage in 1 Corinthians 7.
...for the present form of the world is passing away.(1 Cor 7:31)
It would be not unreasonable to suspect that the Paul’s ethical teaching in 1 Corinthians is more ad hoc than integrated. After all, isn’t it the case that the pressure of living in the latter days means that Paul’s ethical teaching orients the person away from the present world which is fading - to the point of denigrating it? Although Paul claims that ‘your labour in the Lord is not vain’ (1 Cor 15:58), he has been suspected of preaching a gospel which debases life in the present because ‘the time is short’ – and so the ethical material of the letter is merely a series of improvisations, a matter of staving off the trouble and chaos of to schema. This particular epistle appears to offer support for a long-standing critique of Christian (and specifically Pauline) ethical thought by which it has been charged with having an other-worldly eschatological vision to the end that this-worldly activity is greatly diminished and even deprecated. The claim is that, at its worst, Christian ethical teaching instructs believers in a kind of destructive apocalyptic hatred of the world in favour of the longed-for glorious future. For Paul, Christian ethical action is merely a staving off of the problems of this life, not a taking of it seriously on its own terms. ‘Better by far’, he says to the Philippians, ‘to die and be with Christ’.
This essay will examine the claims of two very different modern thinkers who have attacked Pauline Christianity on this front. Hannah Arendt claims that the triumph of Christian eschatology over the world of the Greeks and the Romans inevitably meant that the vita contemplativa was preferred to the vita activa. For his part, Friedrich Nietzsche argues vehemently that Paul’s eschatology laid the foundation of a life-denial that had kept a (European) civilisation in servility for centuries and had crushed the human spirit. What I shall argue in response is that Paul’s apocalyptic vision in 1 Corinthians describes not the worthlessness of the present order of things compared to the priceless world to come but rather (following J. L. Martyn) the invasion of the present world by that world such that the two coalesce. The ethics that derives from this eschatological vision is not then an avoidance or a disparagement of the sphere of present human living but in fact involves its affirmation and transformation. How this is so I will demonstrate in particular from a reading of the passage which seems most counter to my case – Paul’s discussion of marriage in 1 Corinthians 7.
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