During my years as an undergrad student, the Bible was the
main focus of my study. Hermeneutics and exegesis were my best friends during
those years, and I spent many a day delving into the Word of God for various
classes and assignments. This theology I took part in was one which scholars
call biblical theology, which is charged with the task of uncovering the world
behind the text, the people behind the text, and most importantly, the God
within the text. In biblical theology, we start with what is on the page, try
to understand how it got there, and make our arguments from what is present.
I preface this post with this because recently I have been
reading a bit of what I would describe as theology proper, which, according to
the all-knowing Wikipedia," is the sub-discipline of systematic theology which deals specifically
with the being, attributes and works of God. In a Christian setting, this study
includes Trinitarian, the Holy Spirit (Pneumatology) and the study of Jesus
Christ (Christology)." Theology proper, a close cousin to philosophy,
argues what we can know of God, however, unlike biblical theology, it's main
arguing point is not hermeneutical or exegetical, but rather philosophical. Theology
proper makes an attempt to reason it's way to a greater understanding of God.
I am a very new student to both philosophy and theology
proper, and was initially drawn into the discipline by the works of German
theologians Karl Barth and Rudolf Bultmann. These theologians, working in the
mid-twentieth century, opened my eyes to many new questions that we are allowed
to ask about God, and wildly different answers than the other would care to
give. It was in my introduction to both Barth and Bultmann that I began to
realize that my conception of who God is is indeed quite small and narrow, and
largely based on the context of the environment which I grew up in. It was also
in reading Barth and Bultmann that I was introduced to another German
theologian, Jurgen Moltmann.
My latest theological endeavour has been working through one
of Moltmann's most famous work, Theology
of Hope, first published in English in 1967. Before we engage with Theology of Hope, I would ask you to
consider the context of Germany in 1967. World War II had concluded just over
twenty years prior, and the country was split into East and West. The church
was trying to come to an answer as to how a omnipotent deity could allow such a
tragedy to take place. It is in this context which Moltmann publishes Theology of Hope.
Moltmann's thesis for this work is simple: the Christian Gospel
is a Gospel of hope. Rid the Gospel of hope, and it is certainly no euangelion (lit. "good news). His
task is to take a theological look at Christian Scripture--both Old and New
Testaments--and establish that the central message for humankind from the very
beginning--the kerygma--is hope. In God's promises in the Old Testaments, both
to Moses and through the prophets, hope is proclaimed. In the life of Christ,
hope is proclaimed. In the writings of Paul as he expounds on Old Testament
Scripture, hope is proclaimed. For Moltmann, there is no Christianity if there
is no hope.
Many parts of Moltmann's writing have so far captured me as
I have ventured through this dense work. And while I am yet to finish reading Theology of Hope, I wanted to bring to
light one of the sections that Moltmann penned, because it was one of those
moments that was truly groundbreaking for my theology.
As I mentioned previously, one of Moltmann's contemporaries
was Rudolf Bultmann, a German scholar whose primary task was the
Demythologizing project, which attempted to reconcile Christian scripture with
the modern worldview of the day. Bultmann is a fascinating character to read,
but has been constantly critiqued by scholars of his day and ours. In a
response to Bultmann (among others), Moltmann sets out a section of the chapter
"Resurrection and Future of Jesus Christ" to deal with what he
describes as "The Historical Question of the Resurrection of Christ and
the Questionableness of the Historical Approach to History." Now to some
this may seem redundant, and to others absurd, but bear with me as we venture
through this all-important proposition.
Moltmann argues that as a whole, people are born into their
own biases. It is the age old nature vs. nurture question, but to some degree,
people are a product of the environment in which they have grown up. However,
while this originally seems like a sociological or anthropological issue,
Moltmann turns the tables and surfaces the question as a historical issue. For
many people growing up in the modern North American context, this question is
quite baffling, because surely there is nothing more certain than history
(except maybe for science). Moltmann, however, does not hold this view, and
argues that "the experiences of history on the basis of which the concepts
of the historical have been constructed have nowadays an anthropocentric
character, that 'history' is here man's history and man is the real subject of
history" (174). He goes on to cite Hans von Campenhausen, who argues that
the discipline of history does not actually instruct humanity as to the precise
details of the events which took place, but rather that we need to ask the
question of "how far and with what degree of probability the actual facts
and the actual course of events can still be ascertained" (174).
Moltmann argues that our discipline of history is limited,
and as a result of said limits, each society creates their own structures as to
how they believe the discipline of history can best function. He sets this all
up to tackle Bultmann's idea that Christ was not actually resurrected, in which
it is not a "historical" event, but rather a spiritual event which
leads to the birth of Christianity as we know it. This string of logic leads
Moltmann to further argue his point in which "the historical question as
to the reality of the resurrection of Jesus also recoils upon the historical
enquirer and calls in question the basic experience of history which is the
ground of his historical enquiry. The historical question as to the historicity
of the resurrection of Christ is thereby expanded to include the questionability
of the historical approach to history as such. For in the historical question
of the resurrection, the texts which tell of the resurrection of Jesus have
always a historical view of the world also brought to bear on them" (175).
Moltmann challenges those who try to fit the resurrection
into a historical framework to re-evaluate how they actually view the
resurrection. For Moltmann, the importance of the resurrection is not found in
fitting it into our historical structures, because they are guidelines set
forth by humanity--structures which have changed and moulded throughout the
years. Rather, "theology has the possibility of constructing its own
concept of history and its own view of the tale of history on the basis of a
theological and eschatological understanding of the reality of the
resurrection. Then the theology of the resurrection would no longer be fitted
in with an existing concept of history, but an attempt would have to be made,
in comparison with and contradistinction to the existing views of history, to
arrive at a new understanding of history with the ultimate possibilities and
hopes that attach to it on the presupposition of the raising of Christ from the
dead" (180).
Therefore, as the conclusion of Moltmann's section on the
historicity of the resurrection, "the raising of Christ is then to be
called 'historic', not because it took place in the history to which other categories of some sort provide a
key, but it is to be called historic because, by pointing the way for future
events, it makes history in which we
can and must live."
For Moltmann, the historicity of the resurrection is not
important in order that one can prove whether or not the resurrection took
place. Rather, Moltmann assumes the resurrection took place, and argues that
the only way to look at any piece of history is through the lens of the
crucified and risen Christ.
What implications does this view of the resurrection have
for our theology? Well, first of all, it rules out any need for apologetics,
for the resurrection becomes something we do not have to prove, but rather
becomes the event in which everything is view by. Secondly, and more
importantly, Moltmann's view of the historicity of the resurrection forces us
away from the Fundamentalist view of salvation which implicitly calls the
non-believer to believe a, b, and c before they are allowed to enter the life
of the church. Rather, in viewing all things through the resurrection, the
Christian is allowed to invite the non-believer not to absolute doctrine, but
rather that they would come live life in the Kingdom and experience the life
giving presence of Jesus.
For if it is truly through the resurrection in which all
things must be viewed, then it is only through Christ himself that life may be
given, and only through him, the one in whom we hope, in which all things will
be restored and made new in the eschaton.
