Until the text of the Dogmatics is more widely and thoroughly read, one of the main tasks in assessing Barth will be to dispel imaginary pictures. Even yet, for example, it hardly seems to have penetrated the theological world what a decisive turn was taken by Barth in the early thirties, especially through his contact with Anselm (cf. his book on Anselm [1931] and Church Dogmatics, II, 1, 25 ff.). More recently, his emphases have been profoundly affected by his decisive rejection of the new modernism associated with Bultmann; and it is in the light of this rejection that much of his latest work is to be understood (cf. his study Rudolf Bultmann, Zollikon-Zurich, 1952, to which the page numbers in this article refer).
Bultmannism Rejected
A first point is his very strong insistence that, while occasionally mythical terms may have been borrowed, myth itself is not a genre which is found or used in the Old Testament (pp. 31 f.). What is narrated, for example, in the creation stories, is real event, though in this particular instance it is not expressed in historiographical form (cf. the full discussion in Church Dogmatics, III, 1, 41, 1). When we come to the Gospels, we have to do with a work of God in time and space, worked out in the actual life and death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth and credibly attested by those associated with him as apostles (pp. 32 f.). If these events have more than ordinary significance, it is not as marginal symbols but as real events (pp. 16 ff.). Hence the so-called “demythologization” demanded by Bultmann is formally an impossible enterprise. There can be no other statement of the Gospel than in the form of narration (pp. 32 f.). More basically, however, it is a theologically mistaken enterprise, for at bottom it presupposes that the events narrated either did not happen at all, or did not need to happen (cf. p. 34). In reaction, Barth insists more strongly than ever upon the genuine historicity of what took place (miracles and all) for our salvation (pp. 19 ff., 32 f.).
Second, Barth is confirmed in his earlier insistence that the Bible must be read with genuine objectivity (pp. 34 ff., 48 ff.). The error of Bultmann is to import external categories. On the one side, he has a presupposed conception of what is meant by understanding the New Testament (pp. 31 f.). On the other, he allows abstract and non-biblical concerns to dominate his reading and therefore to cause him to reject what appear to him to be mythological elements (p. 27). At root, he reinterprets the whole Gospel, not in terms of itself, but philosophically in terms of an existentialism which he has really learned from Heidegger (pp. 36 f.). The genuinely pre-Copernican attitude, which demands demythologization, is that of Bultmann himself in making self the measure of understanding instead of being truly scientific and being willing to learn from the Bible as it actually is (p. 52). In reaction therefore, Barth insists that theology must rest upon exegesis of the text in terms of itself and not of alien categories, problems, or assumptions.
The Work Of Christ
Third, Barth is led to take with seriousness much needed in all circles today the fact that the center and basis of the Christian message are the work of Christ for us rather than the work of Christ in us (pp. 12 ff., 19). He has no wish to deny the importance of personal repentance, faith, and discipleship. This is self-evident (p. 12). But he has good cause to insist that this work in us is possible only on the basis and in the power of a work already done for us before our faith, apart from our faith, and in spite of our lack of faith (pp. 18 f.). And it is this work for us which forms the substance of the Christian message (pp. 21 ff.). Hence, existentialism does not lead us to the real core of the Gospel. It may well be only another form of the self-exaltation which is the very reverse of the Gospel (pp. 35 f.). What has to be kept in the forefront is that God himself has already worked for us; and that it is only on this basis that, by the Holy Spirit, we may enter into this work in personal response. Otherwise, Christ himself is lost in the so-called kerygma (p. 17). The work of Christ is cut loose from his person. Salvation is severed from Christology (pp. 17 ff.). What took place in the incarnation, crucifixion and resurrection of Christ is given only marginal significance, the really “crucial” thing being that which takes place here and now in me (p. 18).
Death And Resurrection
This is best appreciated in relation to the crucifixion and resurrection. For Bultmann, the all-important thing is my self-crucifixion with Christ; for Barth it is the fact that Christ himself died on the cross (pp. 18 f.). For Bultmann, the real resurrection is the rise of the Easter faith, the Easter message, the Church, the kerygma; for Barth, it is the actual rising again of Jesus Christ as the noetic basis of all these things (pp. 22 f.). If it is important to think of God’s work in terms of its benefits for me or outworking in me, it is even more important to think of what secured these benefits, of what is worked out in me (pp. 12 f.). If I am to die and rise again, I can do so only on the ground and in the power of Christ’s prior death and resurrection for me and in my place. This objectivity of God’s salvation is, as Barth sees it, the real target of Bultmann’s demythologizing rather than the so-called errors in scientific conception; and it is this which must be the more strongly asserted in answer (pp. 24, 32 f.). For the full development of this answer, see Church Dogmatics, IV, 1, which is written in conscious though not explicit repudiation of Bultmann (cf. Preface, p. ix).
In Line With Evangelicalism?
In respect of these three underlying principles in Barth’s work, it will be seen at once that he stands in line with three of the great emphases of evangelicalism: the historicity of God’s saving action; the supremacy of the Bible; and the objectivity of God’s work, particularly in atonement. To the extent that these may not always be conceived in the same way as in orthodoxy, there is ground for criticism. But to the extent that the same things are at stake, this criticism can take the form of fruitful discussion in which the participants on both sides may both help and be helped. Some of the lines along which such discussion could be conducted may be briefly indicated.
As regards historicity (cf. Church Dogmatics, I, 2, 19), it seems that Barth should give a better account of the reliability of Scripture than is actually the case. He makes two good points: (1) that there is a problem of genre, and (2) that in the last resort we depend upon the testimony of the Spirit. But in his abstract concession of errancy he both accepts a canon of historical judgment and allows a weakening of reliability which has only to be pressed to jeopardize the very thing which he wishes to maintain. If he has a lesson for the evangelical world it is that the historicity should not be suspended upon our ability to prove inerrancy, and that we should not be obsessed with this problem as it is posed by scientific historicism. But the converse is also true, that historicity implies the reliability of the testimony, and that this reliability surely means inerrancy according to the biblical category which should be our norm. In other words, the Bible does properly what it sets out to do in its account of God’s saving work.
Supremacy Of The Bible
As regards the supremacy of the Bible, it seems that Barth has a real lesson for the evangelical world in his attitude of openness to be taught by Scripture and his attempt to read the Bible in terms of itself and not of alien categories or assumptions (pp. 50 f.). This does not mean, however, that his own exegesis is right, and certainly not that he claims infallibility for it (p. 52). There thus opens up an exciting task of genuine biblical theology in which many of Barth’s own positions must be weighed by the scriptural rule, and positive exegesis or exposition may and should be undertaken, not in a mere attempt to wrestle with the errors of others, but in a constructive effort to understand the text and teaching of Scripture as it actually is. On this common acceptance of the biblical norm there is room for plenty of disagreement, but it will be friendly, humble and positive disagreement around the one Word and under the direction of the one Spirit.
As regards the objectivity of the divine work, it must be asked whether there is not a dangerous subjectivizing in much that passes for evangelical theology today. Yet the question must also be put to Barth whether he does not fall into much of the same error in his doctrine of inspiration by making the real inspiration the work of the Holy Ghost in the readers rather than a given and objective work in and through the authors. In the light of his own rejection of Bultmann, is there not demanded a reconsideration of his whole doctrine of inspiration? Does he not play right into the hands of Bultmann at this very sensitive point? Can objectivity be safeguarded anywhere if it is not really safeguarded everywhere?
These are some of the live and relevant questions and counterquestions which urgently need to be raised in the light of the developing emphases of the Dogmatics. It is not a matter of whether or not, or to what extent, we are to be Barthians. It is a matter of taking part in a stirring and constructive exegetical and theological interchange in which the only consideration is whether or not, or to what extent, we are or will be genuinely biblical.
END
Geoffrey W. Bromiley is translator of Karl Barth’s Church Dogmatics and currently is Visiting Professor in Church History at Fuller Theological Seminary, Pasadena. His aim in this article is not to promote Barthianism, since many large as well as detailed criticisms of Barth’s views are made by evangelical theologians, but to encourage the critical yet constructive interchange promotive of a genuinely biblical orientation in the contemporary theological discussion and debate.
