What Jesus Really Said

I had a conversation with a colleague recently where a certain sentiment was expressed, basically: "It seems like people forget everything they have learned about the New Testament when they get into the pulpit. They preach as if these are things that Jesus really said, especially from the Gospel of John, when we know that, in all probability, that's not at all the case." We discussed it for a while, and I think there are a couple of things to point out in regard to this.

At the time, I framed my response as a matter of epistemic access. That is to say, I wanted to express that one has to already be in such a condition that one is able by faith to look at history in a certain way, otherwise one is necessarily using a different interperative paradigm. I argued that the rejection of the Gospels, or even of the Gospel of John, on the grounds that the words are not historical in the reductive sense of "word for word the case" is a one-sided, overly reductionistic argument. There's something to be said here regarding epistemic access and epistemic standpoint which will play into how I think about it, but I want to start somewhere else.

I think that this is probably best framed in a distinction between ipsissima verba and ipsissima vox. Ipsissima verba means "the very words", whereas ipsissima vox means "the very voice." Given that Jesus probably didn't do the majority of His teaching in Greek, and even if he had done so, the radical differences in vocabulary between John and the Synoptics make asserting ipsissima verba kind of problematic, in my opinion. That's not to say that there are not some things recorded that are Jesus' ipsissima verba, just that we can't assert that everything in the New Testament is.

But if I can argue from the standpoint of faith, I can say something like the following: Look at the process by which certain "gospels" were rejected, and the four we have made it into the canon. Even Mark is based on an earlier oral tradition, which preserved in part the ipsissimia verba and the ipsissima vox of Jesus. If we can accept providence in the formation of the canon, we can make the not-much-stronger claim that everything that got recorded as Scripture in those accepted works is providentially either ipsissima verba or ipsissima vox, and that for faith, the distinction doesn't really matter, as the providential inclusion of ipsissima vox which is true to the ipsissima verba wouldn't contradict the true teaching at any point. So I can have no problem with saying that, for example, John wrote certain things with a certain agenda, because the things that were written are a true expression of Jesus' proclamation of the Kingdom present in Him and His resurrection. Additionally, on this providential picture, there is dual authorial intent - John intended to express something, and God intended to express something as well, as the preservation of true ipsissima vox requires God in the picture, if it's providence. We can even go so far as to treat things that seem to be ipsissima vox as ipsissima verba, because of the providential preservation. In a certain sense, with the Triune God's authorial intention in play, the ipsissima vox have to become the ipsissma verba, because what is recorded is still God "speaking" to us, and we can't abstract the Son from this action.

That, my friend, is how one can get into the pulpit and say that Jesus told us He is the Way, the Truth and the Life - because that statement is His true voice speaking to us, whether or not we can determine a specific temporal recording of this statement during His earthly life.

Not thinking much

We've recently had a major heat wave here, and though it is a bit better at this point, my notable lack of air conditioning has made thinking a last-resort action. So I've not got much to blog about. I will, however, share a number of links which have amused me in recent days:

Jim West on Football in Church

Theologygrams on Time and Eternity

Rock songs for 50 theologians

Rock songs for 25 more

The most interesting thelogians in the world

A response to the above from Die Evangelische Theologen

Apostles' Creed for conservative evangelicals

Apostles' Creed for liberals


Have fun, folks. Back to regularly scheduled programming when I darn well feel like it again.

The Future of Evangelical Theology

This week marked the end of the seminar I gave (in conjunction with Prof. Dr. Armin Kreiner) on Evangelical Theology ("Wohin Steuert die Evangelikale Theologie"), and I'd like to take a moment to reflect (now that the semester is over).

Through the semester, we looked at the origins and historical development of evangelicalism, especially in the english-speaking world, but the bit I found to be the most interesting was in the second half of the semester, which dealt with new developments and influences in evangelical theology. The point of the seminar was to present evangelicalism as something differentiated rather than a monolithic block, and especially to distinguish it from fundamentalism. I'll probably say more about some individual aspects here in the future, but for today I would like to give my summary thesis, which I formulated for the close of the course:

The future of evangelical theology is as one theological direction and influence among others in the so-called mainline denominations rather than in particular "evangelical" denominations.

 (OK, so I actually said something like "Die Zukunft der evangelikalen Theologie ist eher als eine Richtung bzw. Prägung unter anderem bei den sogenannten mainline-Konfessionen vorzustellen, anstatt als die Theologie besonderer und gesonderter evangelikaler Konfessionen.")

This seems to be the case not only from the doctrinal nearness of the New Evangelicals to the conservative-moving theologians of mainline denominations (Catholics included, by the way!), but also is supported by socialogical data in certain age groups (primarily my generation and younger) who change their church affiliation as well as rejecting single-issue politics. Prof. Dr. Michael Hochgeschwendner from the Amerika-Institut of the LMU was kind enough to guest-lecture for us once, and gave me the most support for my theory.

Evangelicalism lives in tension with fundamentalism. In distinguishing itself from the fundamentalist rejection of the world and society, and in taking a more active role in forming society, "evangelicals" end up on the same field of play as "mainliners", "liberals", and others. When the Christian conscience is not connected to the Religious Right, but decides on the basis of love and justice, "evangelical" social action starts to have a lot of similarity to "mainline" groups; the theological movements within "evangelicalism" are in conversation with the rest of the theological world.

That's probably pretty controversial, but I'm going to stick to my guns. I'm an "evangelical" in a "mainline" denomination, and there is enough evidence that the move I've made is one being made by many young adults. It's time to end the characterisation of church groups as being representatives of one or the other type of theology, and time to begin, for ourselves, representing the Truth for who He is, where and  how we can proclaim Him.

For my Barthian Friends

If you know me, you know I'm kind of skeptical about a lot of Barth's theology. Nonetheless, I am going to share a theology-nerd joke (which I heard for the first time a couple of days ago, but which was referred to as a joke that every theology student here has heard [side note: it was Hans Spiegel over at Tagebuch eines Pfarrers in a podcast from a while back]) which really turns on Barth's monumental Kirchliche Dogmatik.

Here we go: So, eventually the Kingdom of God is ushered in, and everyone is absolutely thrilled. There's a minor problem though: all the theologians who have ever lived have confused people so much, and done so many foolish things, that they have to take a short test before they can be allowed in. The Holy Spirit is examining them, and St. Peter brings them into a room one by one. The line is progressing quite nicely, and apparently the examination is quite easy, since it is only taking about five minutes per theologian. Near the front of the line, Karl Barth, Paul Tillich, and Rudolf Bultmann are standing together. St. Peter beckons Barth inside, and everyone is waiting. 5 minutes turn into 10. Then a half an hour. An hour. Finally, after three hours,  St. Peter comes back out, and Tillich jumps up and asks "Did Barth fail? Did Barth fail? Did he finally fail at something?" St. Peter replies, "Well, Barth didn't fail..."