Anvil

Please pardon the blatant self-promotion, but - what is a blog for if not that?

In the latest issue of Anvil, I have an article on Chris Wright's The Mission of God - much of which was trialed here on this blog. Chris also adds his response to the four reviews that appear, and there admits to having read the debate as it developed here!

In the same issue, I have smaller reviews of Mark Thompson's A Clear and Present Word , Bernd Wannenwetsch's Political Worship, and Sam Well's God's Companions.

I also note that Wannenwetsch has edited a collection of essays, Who Am I? Bonhoeffer's Theology Through His Poetry. Alas, T&T Clark are offering it at the mighty price of £55!! That's 140 AUD!! (or 110 USD). Ouch - looks like a trip to the library to read that one...

Wannenwetsch on Martyrdom

Political Worship is a book with myriad juicy excurses (as well as a compelling central thesis too).

In responding to Milbank, Wannenwetsch writes:

'Here we are forced to remember that it was actually the Church in the form of its martyrs, who refused to submit to the power of those who were stronger, which gave what was perhaps the most forceful political thrust towards the dissolution of the Roman Empire, as people withdrew from the political worship of the Empire. The effect of the Christian martyrs must, of course, not be interpreted to mean that the principle of non-violence proved superior to Roman violence. Their impact was not based on any ontological ascendancy of non-violence over violence. It was due to the fact that the refusal to go along with the worship of the gods of war, who represented the imperial claim to rule, pointed to the question about the authorization or empowerment for such action. If Christians found this empowerment in their worship, that worship did not merely reflect the impossibility of joining in the worship of Roman tyranny; it also showed the possibility of seeing this risky refusal through. Even today, the decisive constructive question of political ethics is the question about the formation of power.' (p. 114)

'If the Christians had viewed their worship as a private domestic cult, they could easily have enjoyed the religious tolerance betsowed by the Roman authorities in this respect, and would have been spared the experience of martyrdom. As it was, martyrdom was inevitable, since the ekklesia was bound from the beginning to celebrate 'political worship'. It could not worship the Lord of the cosmos as the penates were worshipped' it had to do so in a way which its pagan environment could not avoid viewing as an insult to the gods of the state, and was bound to suffer the sanctions imposed upon an 'atheism' hostile to this state...' (p. 148)

Wannenwetsch on managerialism

I attended only one paper at the Society for the Study of Christian Ethics Annual Conference, that by my own supervisor. The theme of the conference was 'The Ideology of Managerialism in church, politics and society'.

Bernd Wannenwetsch's paper was titled: 'The Birth of Economisation of the Church: Out of the Spirit of Protestant Inwardness'.

His very strong thesis was that the churches were succombing to the temptation of managerialism with its emphases on outcomes, meeting felt needs, efficiency and benchmarking. He cited the case of the Evangelical Church in Germany (EKD) who had hired the management consultants McKinsey to advise them and to help them with recruitment. This was, as Wannenwetsch saw it, the church selling out the church by commodifying the gospel.

When the gospel is tailored to meet the needs of the supposed target audience, then we lose the Reformation emphasis on the externality of the word. The church has its identity as a listenting/hearing church in response to the gospel. It is a creature of the Word. It does not have the gospel as a possession to offer in order to meet people's spiritual needs.

He sourced this turn back to Schleiermacher's Romantic era inwardness: that the logos is found inside every person 'always already', and only needs the church to connect with it in some way contrasts with the Lutheran teaching that the gospel comes to us from outside of us. We have shifted from a doctrine of the Word to a doctrine of Faith. Now, human needs and not the gospel are seen as inexhuastible. The church becomes not the hearing and obedient church, but rather the spiritually expert church.

The great biblical passage that he reminded us of was the challenge between the prophets of Baal and Elijah on Mount Carmel. The sheer dynamism of the power of Yhwh contrast with the ineptitude of Baal. Elijah does not need to imprecate Yhwh, but rather to wait on him.

As Wannenwetsch said: 'The gospel has not come to meet our needs but to transform our needs into something worth having'.

SO: the spirit of managerialism is... a demonic spirit!

Bernd Wannenwetsch on the martyrs and violence

It is always good to read your own supervisor's work! So, I found this nice comment in Bernd Wannenwetsch's book Political Worship:

...it was actually the Church in the form of the martyrs, who refused to submit to the power of those who were stronger, which gave what was perhaps the most forceful political thrust towards the dissolution of the Roman Empire, as people withdrew from the political worship of the Empire. The effect of the Christian martyrs must, of course, not be interpreted to mean that the principle of non-violence proved superior to Roman violence. Their impact was not based on any ontological ascendancy of non-violence over violence. It was due to the fact that the refusal to go along with the worship of the gods of war, who represent the imperial claim to rule, pointed to the question about the authorization or empowerment for such action. If Christians found this empowerment in their worship, that worship did not merely reflect the impossibility of joining in the worship of Roman tyranny; it also showed the possibility of seeing this risky refusal through. Even today, the decisive constructive question of political ethics is the question about the formation of power. p. 113-4.

What he highlights here is that martyrdom was a question primarily of worship and not one of merely displaying a kind of action transferrable to perhaps different ideological settings.

Christ - the FORM of the Christian life

Some Lutheran perspectives on the Christian life: martyrdom is properly a reflection of the form (or to use Luther's term the sacramentum) of the Christian life.

My own doktorvater, Bernd Wannenwetsch:

The whole of our Christian lives as agents is rooted in Christ’s action, which not only provides a model (exemplum) or an impulse (motivatio) or a mere “foundation”, but precisely the proper “form” (sacramentum) of the Christian life. Hence, for Luther, there is no prior “relationship with God” or a priori Glaubensbewusstsein (‘religious-consciousness’: Schleiermacher) that would “set free” the believing individual to engage then in social relationships of a political kind. Instead, there is only a political worship, which simultaneously relates the believers to God and their fellow citizens. (From his article on Luther's Ethics in the Cambridge Companion to Luther)

And in the same vein, Eberhard Jungel: Even those exemplary narratives of Jesus which are oriented toward action, which end with ‘go and do likewise’, only formulate with this imperative a newly discovered indicative, that is, something which the listener must say to himself. They make something self-understandable in a new way which ought always to have been self-understandable but was not. But in order for this to happen anew, man must apparently first be liberated from the pressure to concentrate on himself. It is for that reason that man first becomes a “hearer of the word,” who cannot do anything at all as long as he is listening, and then on the basis of his hearing he can act out of the newly gained freedom so that his action, precisely as activity, remains a doing of the word.

This is especially true with regard to the telling of the Christological story, which bursts apart everything which is obvious and matter of course, in that this story God identifies himself with a crucified person so that there is a story to be told about a crucified God and a man who has been awakened to a new life. The hearer must be drawn existentially into this story through the word, precisely because it is also his story, and this much happen before he can do what corresponds to the story. The story of Jesus Christ, through the word which emerges from it and tells it, becomes a ‘sacrament’ (to speak along the lines of Augustine and Luther) before it can function as an ‘example’ (sacramentum, exemplum). It is the sacramental function of the telling of the Christological story to let the hearer win freedom from himself. …before Jesus Christ comes to be considered an exemplum for our behaviour he must be affirmed as the sacramentum that changes our being…. from God as the Mystery of the World p. 308-9

Human Unity Otherwise Described...

As the NT talks about the people of God, it describes them as united in the basic quality of their existence: there is one Lord, one Faith, one baptism, one God and father of all (so Eph 4:2-5). There is not a need for the dissolving of cultural and personal differences – because there is a unity founded on something far deeper. Galatians 3:26 should not be over-read in this connection. As Bernd Wannenwetsch puts it:

The contrasting pairs Jew-Greek, man-woman, freeman-slave, listed in Galatians 3:26ff represented – and represent still – fundamental differences, ethnic and religious, sexual and economic…the intention was not to abolish these antinomies in general. They are to be set aside in a quite precise sense: the political one.[1]

However, the experience of transformed relationships and unity in the church’s life could not leave untouched what being Jew or Greek, man or woman, freeman or slave meant for life outside the church. Wannenwetsch continues:

God’s Spirit, which rules the ekklesia, relativises the ties with all the different political, economic, and ethnic systems which are determined by another spirit, the spirit of self-preservation.[2]

The point of Paul’s body metaphor in 1 Corinthians 12 is that human difference and distinction are not obliterated in Christ but brought together by the Spirit and found complementary. Conformity is to be found in imitation of Christ (1 Cor 11:1). The futility of Gentile living is to be abandoned (1 Cor 6:12ff): together the body finds a unity of purpose in living in a way which pleases God, keeping unity and peace with the other members of the body.

[1] Wannenwetsch, Political Worship: Ethics for Christian Citizens p.136-7.
[2] Ibid. p. 142

Key Posts from the Past

Here is I hope a useful selection of past posts. I have chosen according to those that most sparked discussion, rather than those I think that most reflect my interests or emphases in this blog.


imitating christ
sacraments
enhypostasis/anhypostasis
the Bible, and Theology
Stanley Hauerwas
Bernd Wannenwetsch on sex and the trinity
mission and theology
rethinking the term 'propositional'
doctrine - a rationale
the great evangelical bible swindle
kataangelism
if christian schools were really christian...?
von balthasar and impassability
at the crossroads
the famous smacking discussion!
was bonhoeffer a martyr?
gurus and growing up
violence: what is it?
straining at gnats
david hicks: does this bother you?
power of scripture

John Milbank’s Theology and Social Theory: Beyond Secular Reason

The work of John Milbank is a daring attempt to demolish secular social theory from a Christian perspective. This audacious move is a characteristic of the ‘Radical Orthodoxy’ movement, whose other chief protagonists are Graham Ward and Catherine Pickstock. Milbank proclaims nothing less than to prove that the ‘governing assumptions’ of theories like secular western liberalism are ‘bound up with the governing assumptions of orthodox Christian positions’. In fact, it is not necessary to try and relate theology and social theory to one another, for, as Fergus Kerr summarises, ‘theology is already social theory, and social theory is already theology’. What Milbank attempts is to expose the theology (and anti-theology) implicit in the so-called secular disciplines like sociology. Conversely, and with much deference to Augustine, he extrapolates the social theory inherent in theology.

Milbank’s critique of political liberalism shares much in common with those of Foucault and Lyotard. Indeed it is self-consciously postmodern: Milbank explicitly adopts the Foucauldian tactic of an historicizing, ‘genealogical’ inquiry in order to expose the network of power struggles and claims to dominance at the root of liberal thinking. He claims that the discourses of liberalism, from which the secular is first constructed, read the world in terms of an ‘ontology of violence’ – ‘a reading of the world which assumes the priority of force and tells how this force is best managed and confined by counter force’. Violence is assumed to be basic; as a result, political theory is developed assuming that violence has to be forcefully surmounted. Following Foucault, Milbank asserts that any truth claims are in fact a means to assert the dominance of the inevitably clashing centres of power in society. Kant’s liberalism, for example, makes claims about freedom that are really only gestures in a wrestle for power. The liberal move – the ‘Kantian delay’ – only temporarily staves off the nihilism of Nietzche.

Milbank’s scepticism removes for him the possibility of theology building on the foundations of some secular discipline:
Theology has frequently sought to borrow from elsewhere a fundamental account of society or history, and then to see what theological insights will cohere with it. But it has been shown that no such fundamental account, in the sense of something neutral, rational and universal, is really available. It is theology itself that will have to provide its own account of the final causes at work in human history, on the basis of its own particular, and historically specific faith.
Consequently, Christianity does not recognise this ontology of violence but rather thinks of the prime reality as a ‘harmonic peace’: Milbank at this point introduces the triune God as ‘transcendental peace through differential relation’. The meta-narrative of Christianity – its ‘counter-story’ – is at least no less credible than the meta-narratives of violence by which modern social theories (including and especially liberalism) describe themselves, since all alike are unfounded in the traditional sense. The existence of a primal violence is challenged by a counter-history, which is established by the coming of Christ into history; a counter-ethics, in which love becomes the core of virtue; and a counter-ontology, in which true peaceful co-existence is won from violence by the practice of forgiveness. Christianity, for Milbank, is unique in that it
…does not allow violence any real ontological purchase, but relates it instead to a free subject who asserts a will that is truly independent of God and of others, and thereby a will to the inhibition and distortion of reality.

Echoing Augustine, Milbank posits the Church as the political anti-type or counter-society. In the Church there is an ‘ontological priority of peace over conflict’ : there, ‘difference’ is the foundation not for violence but for harmonious peace. Here is one of Milbank’s great difficulties; for the Church as a historical entity has not fulfilled this ‘vision of paradisal[sic] community’. As he rather wistfully admits:
Insofar as the church has failed, and has even become a hellish anti-Church, it has confined Christianity, like everything else, with the cycle of the ceaseless exhaustion and return of violence.
Nevertheless, it is the Christian vision of ontological peace that provides the only alternative to absolute nihilism.

Milbank’s critique of liberalism is dazzling. He is able to show how secular liberalism, like other theories of society, is not secular at all but in fact involves necessarily theological or anti-theological moves. He is able to show how liberal thinking has its own mythos or meta-narrative, despite its pretensions to an abstract universalism; and how it has not finally eluded the gravitational pull of nihilism’s black hole. His introduction of the Christian meta-narrative in response rightly points to the distinctive Christian emphasis on relationality generated by the triune God as an attractive conceptual alternative.

Nevertheless, Milbank’s thesis is problematic for a number of reasons. First, his self-conscious appeal to postmodern thinking enables him to make a devastating critique of secular reason; his own evasion of the critique is less than convincing. He adopts Foucault’s notion of genealogy, by which the power claims implicit in the political discourses he examines are brought to light and exposed as relying on an ‘ontology of violence’. And yet he also claims that his Christian ‘ontology of peace’ escapes this Foucauldian critique. An Icarus flying too near a postmodern sun, he relies on Foucault to prove that Foucault is ultimately wrong.

Secondly, Milbank’s strategy rests on a questionable ecclesiology, which is far too sanguine about the ‘church militant’. His is an over-realised ecclesiology, blurring the traditional distinction between the church visible and the church invisible, focussing on the concrete historical institutions of the universal Church at the expense of its local congregational instances. More recent ‘Radical Orthodox’ writings have tended to make the Eucharist the means by which the ‘ontology of peace’ is realised, following an almost medieval sacramental theology. Christopher J. Insole goes so far as to accuse Milbank of a tendency to theocracy. And yet Milbank seems genuinely baffled by the refusal of the Church to be itself within history. Within the Scriptures themselves, the churches were as much a site of struggle as of peace (the Council of Jerusalem in Acts 15, to take but one example, or the Corinthian church). Peace with God was declared in the gospel, but by no means automatically or easily realised in ecclesial relationships. God’s once-for-all act of reconciliation on the cross is not continued or repeated in the acts of the church this side of Christ’s return.

Thirdly, it seems pertinent to ask, along with Wannenwetsch, if the only way to defeat the violent ontologies of secular reason is by positing an alternative ontology. Milbank has difficulty, having so successfully deconstructed the ontology of political thought, in convincingly constructing something of the same species. The proclamation of the gospel of peace, which founds the church, is not a counter- ontology, but a promise. Further, the NT describes the cross of Christ as achieving peace through a victory against the powers of sin and evil – depicted in terms of a violent exclusion (see Rev 19-22 for just one example).

This third complaint leads to a fourth, which is that while Milbank offers a virtuoso reading of vast tracts of political philosophy, liberation theology and postmodernism, his method is insufficiently grounded in basic Scriptural exegesis. He offers almost no reflection on Israel’s political life; nor does he offer extensive readings of the relevant NT material – all of which ought to condition his explanation of the Church as alternative polis. Strangely, though he claims to be offering Christianity as an alternative meta-narrative, he nowhere offers his retelling of that story at any depth nor an engagement with the authoritative texts of the tradition he is advocating.

Bernd Wannenwetsch on sex and the Trinity

Bernd Wannenwetsch replies to an advocate of Christian homosexual marriage, raising some interesting issues for applying the Trinity to our social relationships:

"This necessary move to the doctrine of creation within the doctrine of the Trinity makes a crucial difference to Rogers’ (pro-homosexual marriage) argument, which brings the Trinity into immediate relation with marriage. The Trinity may be the “paradigm or perfect case of otherness as an exchange of gift and gratitude”, as Rogers says. But it cannot as such render the proper model for sexual unions exactly because the Trinity is not a bodily union…

Now it is easy to see why this non-bodily “perfection” of communion may provide a model perfectly suited for Rogers’ claim, which feeds on the marginalization of the meaning of bodily differences. But invoking the Trinity to suggest a “richer” and theologically fuller account of marriage should not make us overlook the bare fact that nowhere in the Scriptures are human sexual unions intended to mirror the Trinity (or at least the union of the Father and Son). Rather, they are specifically assigned to mirror the union of Christ and the church which is a “material”, sensual, in fact a bodily relationship.

That these bodily differences characterize our creaturely existence, means that we should mirror God’s will for human beings to the extent that it can be known from (the witness of) God’s deeds in creation, salvation and perfection. Therefore, when Rogers claims “marriage can represent the Trinity in space and time” he claims at the same time too much and too little. Seeking the sort of perfect community in mirroring God’s Trinitarian life seems to be, at best, a triumphalist anticipation of the eschaton, and, at worst, a denial of our creaturely finitude. "

anyone?