We need to be warned and we must warn others that living a life that longs for character, settles only for integrity and truly loves is not always grand or pretty.  In fact, such aspirations are extremely hard and usually messy.  Often, in this age of twitter, facebook, and blogs, we can be fooled into thinking that if we tweet or post something, it actually is.  And thus, I am a person of character, have integrity and care for others just because I type such sentiments.  Not so.  Life is real and thus to be really lived – with real people, in the midst of their real problems, caring for their real junk, and speaking really hard stuff to them.  To really live may mean our online persona suffers serious harm, our status is not so grand, and our updates are not so frequent.  Be warned, Mike – aspiring to character, integrity and love may mean that you type less and live more, or even stop typing altogether and start really living.

A reframing of missions capable of countering the modernizing tendencies within the mission movement must offer an alternative that is substantial and potent. Such an alternative must come from sources that are more than cultural and religious, especially since these have been implicated in the initiation and justification of Western dominance and control. Surely, if we are to find an alternative, correcting voice, capable of defying the powers that so easily seduce and intoxicate us, we will need to look beyond the familiar to substance that is more than merely political, national, or cultural. Such substance can only be found in Jesus Christ and the scriptures that point to him.

As we know, the Bible was often employed in the nineteenth century to justify the form and substance of Western power. Likewise, the architects and promoters of missions liberally used scripture in order to reinforce preconceived notions of civilization, nationalism, and race. And thus, Newbigin is certainly correct in his insistence that a new and substantial turn away from these notions must begin with a vigorous, fresh reading of the New Testament. In so doing, the hope is to discover anew “what it means to bear witness to the gospel.”

The sad fact, as Newbigin points out, is that we do not naturally chose this fresh reading and re-envisioning, unless we are forced to do so by our circumstances. Because we are no longer in a position today to exert the power or superiority of our nation, language, culture or religion, we are forced to reread and thus re-envision the form and substance of our witness. In the end, such re-envisioning requires a willingness to go against the stream of culture, nationalism, and religion. It mandates that we embrace the singular hope found in Jesus. Newbigin challenges us to find the way and message of Jesus Christ to be ample for the mission of the church. If we find that he is not enough, we will feel it necessary to augment him with form and substance of another kind.

The questions for you and me are simple and yet pointed: Is it possible for us to come to the New Testament with new and fresh eyes and allow it to measure and judge us and our mission machinery? Can we learn afresh what it means to live against the stream of our culture, nationalism, and religion? Are we willing to exchange our pseudo power and influence for real weakness?

True and abiding hope is experienced through weakness. In this hope, the power of God is made known to us and to the world.

Often the positive talk and spiritual sound bites that I and others might offer have a callous ring and can cause more hurt than hope. Their hurt is real and raw. Cheap religious ointment does not treat their doomed expectations, failed trust, and real loss. They tell me that church seems to offer only loud, upbeat music in the now and happy talk of heaven for the future. And when the church does try to address their ills or care for them, it usually is only a nicer, more spiritual version of the therapy the world is able to give. Many of the religious institutions, ideals, and causes that they were taught to turn to in times of trouble have either disappeared or are no longer trustworthy. These as well have been swept into the same sea of hopelessness.

The harsh reality is that epic social, economical, and personal storms have destroyed many of the moorings on which we once built our hopes. Thus, we have been swept out to sea. And now, pulled this way and that by social, economic, political, and relational currents, we are adrift. We have drifted far from former hopes and now desperately cry out for something or someone to give us a new and sustainable hope. And yet, this drifting and crying actually positions us to find hope – to find Jesus. Hope ultimately is not the religion started in Jesus’ name, or people who represent him, or his cause, or service for him, or even his church. Rather, Jesus is our hope. The sea of hopelessness strips us of the illusion of finding hope through penultimate means and affords us a true opportunity to discover the ultimate source of real, sustaining hope. Opportunity arises, and we turn to Jesus and experience hope as more than a fat pay check, a miracle drug, a feel good movie, streets of gold, or power religion. Hope is Jesus and not these hopeless substitutes.

The quick, easy fix is an allusion. We are past bailouts, pep talks, and cheery sermons. These offer a sugary semblance but not genuine hope. Hope with substance and staying power is what we require. Jesus alone is the hope that sustains and stays with us, no matter what sweeps over and sets us adrift.

I have concluded that I really have very little to say to my friends, as long as I speak from the vantage point of security and the safety of the shore. When I do speak of hope and point them to Jesus, they want to know that I am speaking and pointing as I tread water and bob alongside them. They want to see that I too am desperately clinging to Jesus in this turbulent sea. They want to witness in my person and not just in my words that Jesus is enough.

Fear, the most basic and pervasive of human emotions, operates in two modes.  Fear of the first order manifests itself as a strong, unpleasant emotion caused by realized or anticipated danger or dread.  Whether rational or irrational, founded or unfounded, fear in this form is a terror, horror, or panic that captures us and puts everything into question.

Realized fear of a bully who with fists is threatening, the flashing lights of a police car in the rear-view mirror, or a pink slip arriving in the mail immediately arrests us, causing heart to race, stomach to knot, and sweat to appear.  Anticipated fear of being found out, losing our good reputation, becoming severely ill, or suddenly dying can seize us in similar ways.  Whether realized or anticipated, fear controls our lives – how much we will expose ourselves to others, whether we will venture new actions, and the extent to which we will give ourselves in love.  If you want to know who a person is at his or her core, just ask, What do you fear?

Fear, in another mode, expresses itself as reverence or awe.  This kind of fear can be calculated and reasoned.  We assess something or someone and then take the decision that he, she, or it is to be revered and worshiped.  Awe and wonder eventually result in veneration and praise.  This fear cannot be demanded or coerced but is offered.  As God reveals Himself as the Creator, Sustainer and Reconciler of all things, He elicits our fear.  This means that though He reveals Himself as awesome and amazing, reverence and awe (fear) can only be freely given to Him and not imposed by Him.  Because God wants worshipers who by choice fear Him, we are free to ignore or disparage and thus not fear Him.

For Barth, fear of the second mode outranks that of the first.  And he warns that fear of the first mode (terror) should not be abandon, unless fear of the first order (worship) is decidedly in place.  Unless we indeed fear God, there is plenty in the world to fear.

Two fears, terror and awe, stand alongside each other and yet in opposition.  The two are similar in feeling and emotion but different in their outcomes.  One comes upon and grips us as a terror in the night; the other comes as a revelation of wonder and greatness and causes us to bow and worship.  One forces its ways upon us and then captures us; the other awaits our free surrender.  One robs us of sleep, freedom, and life; the other grants us rest, hope, and love.  Both stand before us ready to define who we are; both shape the manner in which we live.

Real dangers lurk in the night, just around the corner … ready to surprise and capture us at any moment.  When we do not fear God, we stand in genuine danger of forfeiting all hope against the terrors of this life.

The task of dogmatics serves a purpose but not one independent from the Church and its proclamation. Dogmatics does not “imply a higher possibility of Christian life,” (85) as its existence is one of service. In this way, proclamation and dogmatics are connected – one as the content and the other as the guide or corrective. “Church proclamation and not dogmatics is immediate to God in the Church. Proclamation is essential, dogmatics is needed only for the sake of it. Dogmatics lives by it to the extent that it lives only in the Church” (87).

For Barth, proclamation outranks dogmatics, and thus, preaching is primary, even essential. This does not denigrate dogmatics or theology but prescribes to it an appropriate place, a guiding role. In my memory, Dr. Peter James Flamming exemplifies a striking and authentic mixture of these two.

Jim Flamming was my pastor during university days, performed my wedding, baptized my son, and pastored my family when we lived in Richmond, Virginia. I still recall phrases, in part or whole, that he spoke from the pulpit. These were spoken directly to me – as a struggling student seeking to discern God’s will, a new husband navigating marriage, and a seasoned missionary still trying to make sense of the world. In his human words, I heard divine Word.

Jim Flamming, Pastor Emeritus FBC, Richmond, VA

For Jim Flamming, preaching was not simply a spectacle or performance but proclamation of the Word of God. For sure, he had a unique approach, a keen mind and a wonderful delivery. But the difference was that his study, sermon construction, and technique served the preaching event and did not become the event.

My sense is that the Word of God came to me via Jim Flamming because his style, study, technique, and content came under the testing, criticism and judgment of God’s Word as revealed in Jesus Christ and in the Bible. In this way, he sought to faithfully point the Church to “God, revelation and faith.” Scripture exegesis and theological reflection informed and reformed the words he spoke. So, while I can certainly praise the skill and intellect of Jim Flamming, above all I acknowledge in him God’s grace and mercy to make concrete and knowable divine Word by way of profane, human words. And I am thankful for a person who recognized proclamation as above all witness to God’s revelation and preached toward this end.

Scripture can be exegeted and explained, and theology dissected and discussed, but neither task is meant to substitute for proclamation. At best, exegetical and theological work serve proclamation. When theology has an existence unto itself and independence from the Church, it tends to go awry. And likewise, when proclamation becomes detached from thorough exegetical and theological labor, it forfeits crucial insight and correction, and it sidesteps the judgment of God … becoming mere spectacle, show, opinion, bias, chatter – only human talk.

With certainty Barth believes in the primacy of the Word of God as made known to us through preaching, the sacraments, scripture, and ultimately in Jesus Christ. And yet, he steadfastly maintains that God is free to reveal Himself however He wishes – even through a dead dog. Our concern must be that no matter how He speaks, we are to humbly listen and obey.

Revelation, if and how it comes to us, is not the crucial question. Rather, the question for you and me, whether we are a theologian, nurse, farmer, welder, or teacher, is will we or will we not obey. For most of us, we have already heard too much and obeyed too little. God speaks, and we do well to listen. And above all we do well to respond with concrete obedience to what we have heard.

By the way … at this point, Barth is only opening his discussion, and thus, we can be sure he does not leave it to a dead dog to speak the Word of God.

Reading CD atop Pinnacle Mtn, Arkansas

Church Dogmatics, Volume 1, Part 1 is a revision of Barth’s first offer of dogmatics.  The Doctrine of the Word of God, published in 1927, was the first volume of what was to be Christian Dogmatics in Outline.  In the Preface of the 1932 rewrite, Barth explains why he had “to begin again at the beginning, saying the same thing, but in a very different way” (xi).  He had done something of the same with his Romerbrief (1919, revised 1921), seeking to overturn nineteenth century theological liberalism.  In his own estimation, the first go at dogmatics had not gone far enough and was in need of a revision based upon what he had learned “both historically and materially” (xi) in the intervening years.

Among the changes, Barth mentions …

1. Church Dogmatics, I,1 is more expansive and thus contains only half the material of the single volume of the first edition.  Barth covers the same ground in two parts rather than one.  His aim is “to make more extensive soundings and lay broader foundations” (xii) in this fuller discussion.
2. Church Dogmatics includes the feature of “interposed sections in small print” in which Barth explores “biblio-theological presuppositions and the historico-dogmatic and polemical relations” (xii) of text in the larger type.  He suggests that these sections can be skipped, if one is not a ‘gourmet theologian’; and yet, treasures, not to be missed, lie in the smaller font.
3. Barth shifts from Christian to Church Dogmatics.  With the change, he commits himself “to show that from the very outset dogmatics is not a free science.  It is bound to the sphere of the Church, where alone it is possible and meaningful” (xiii).  As such, theology remains tied and responsible to the Church.
4. The revision is necessary in order to exclude what might appear as “a foundation, support, or justification in philosophical existentialism” (xiii).  He explains that the first edition opened the possibility of continuing along the path of German Liberal Theology leading to the “destruction of Protestant theology and the Protestant church.”  The revision is meant to expunge any conceivable grounds of continuation along this path.
5. Barth writes for the sake of the Evangelical Church – “The community in and for which I have written is that of the Church and not a community of theological endeavour” (xv).  He explains that there are programs, theologies, and fashions the Church must oppose, if it is to be the Church in the situation in which it finds itself.

Barth closes his Preface with a brief sketch of the six volumes that are to follow and the admission that it will take “many years to carry out the plan as now envisaged” (xvii).  From this resolute beginning, he labors for over thirty years addressing the Church as the Church with the concern that she not be less than the Church.

Dec. 1955, Source: Karl Barth Archive, Basel, photo by Maria Netter

As you and I anticipate a reading journey through Church Dogmatics in 2012, it would be helpful to know something of its author, Karl Barth (1886-1968).  Born in Basel, Switzerland, Barth spent the majority of his childhood in Berne where his father, Fritz Barth, was Professor of Church History and New Testament Exegesis.  At age 16, Barth decided to become a theologian and began his studies at Berne in 1904 (age 18).  In addition to Berne, he studied in Berlin, Tübingen, and Marburg.  In 1909 he served as an apprentice pastor in Geneva, and from 1911 to 1921 he was pastor of a small church in the village of Safenwil. While at Safenwil, he wrote his Epistle to the Romans (Der Römerbrief, 1919, rev. 1921) marking a decisive departure from the thought of his teachers (Adolf von Harnack, Wilhelm Herrmann) and German Protestant Liberal theology of the day.  As Professor of theology in Göttingen (1921-25), Münster (1925-30), and Bonn (1930-35), Barth offered an alternative theological vision for the church.  Because he was an outspoken critic of the Nazi party and refused to swear allegiance to Adolf Hitler, he was forced to leave Germany in 1935.  The Barmen Declaration (1934) of the German Confessing Church was chiefly the work of Barth.  Leaving Germany, he returned to Switzerland and became Professor in Basel (1935–62). Barth married Nelly Hoffmann in 1913 and had five children (four sons and a daughter).  He died in Basel on December 10, 1968.

As a husband, father, pastor, teacher, and dogmatician, Barth was certainly a flawed man but one upon whom a great gift was bestowed.  Above all, he was a man seeking to serve steadfastly the Church of his day with keen critique and theological vision.

Over the course of three decades, Barth methodologically detailed his theology in Church Dogmatics (Kirchliche Dogmatik).  Written and published between 1932 and 1967, and totaling thirteen volumes, six million words, Dogmatics remained unfinished at his death.  As one of the greatest theological work of all times and certainly the most significant theological statement for the 20th century, Church Dogmatics begs to be read.

And yet, reading this gigantic work is a gigantic undertaking.  The shelf-load of imposing volumes and theologically thick and wordy sentences can undo the intentions of the most capable reader.  Reading the Dogmatics requires dogged determination, resolve and perspective.  As I begin, only Volume I, Part 1: The Doctrine of the Word of God, lies in my view.  The outline of these 489 pages is as follows:

EDITOR’S PREFACE
PREFACE
INTRODUCTION I, Part 1
§ 1. The Task of Dogmatics
§ 2. The Task of Prolegomena to Dogmatics

CHAPTER 1. THE WORD OF GOD AS THE CRITERION OF DOGMATICS
§ 3. Church Proclamation as the Material of Dogmatics
§ 4. The World of God in its Threefold Form
§ 5. The Nature of the Word of God
§ 6. The Knowability of the Word of God
§ 7. The Word of God, Dogma and Dogmatics

CHAPTER II. THE REVELATION OF GOD
PART I. THE TRIUNE GOD
§ 8. God in His Revelation
§ 9. The Triunity of God
§ 10. God the Father
§ 11. God the Son
§ 12. God the Spirit

Volume 1, Part 2, which takes up the Incarnation and the Holy Spirit, stands in the wings but out of sight, as do the other eleven tomes.

As with anything of value, there is no gain without pain, and thus it is with the Dogmatics.  If one reads only to reaffirm what one already knows, or to reinforce one’s prior convictions, or solely for inspiration, then Barth will surely disappoint.  Only as one pushes through page after page, does one catch the rhythm and sense of Barth’s method and language, emphasis and meaning.  So, take the first volume in hand, turn to the opening page, take a deep breath, and let the reading begin!

I lean toward her and confess.  “And who am I to teach a seminary class?  Who am I to act as though I am an example of Christian service, witness or piety?  Who am I to offer advice concerning marriage, ministry, missions, or life situations?  The answer to your questions and mine is the Spirit.”

While a discussion of the Holy Spirit could center on whether the gifts of the Spirit, such as tongues, are valid, our ultimate concern is whether the Spirit does in fact act in and through our lives.  And if he does, what does this mean for the way in which we are to live.  Who is Spirit and what does he do?

First, the Spirit is God.  Thus, what I might say about God, the Creator, and God, the Son, I must also say about God, the Spirit.  Each has distinction but in the end are expressions of the same God.  God, in his three-in-oneness, cannot, should not be parsed like a verb or diagramed like a sentence.  The ‘persons’ of the Godhead are not grandstanding competitors, vying for supremacy.  Rather, as Karl Barth explains, our “knowledge of God is still only an event enclosed in the mystery of the divine Trinity” (CD II/1, 181).  I, with Barth, do not understand God’s three-in-oneness.  But the mystery of the Trinity does not prevent me confessing that the Spirit is God.

Second, I have also learned from Karl Barth that our best understanding of God is in his revelation of himself.  Thus, I am able to know something of who the Spirit is, as I observe his activity.  Scripture tells me that the Spirit is the one who moves (Gen. 1.2), descends (Mt. 3.16; Mk 1.10; Jn 1.32), speaks (Mt. 10.1; Acts 8.29, 10.19), teaches (Jn 14.26), leads and guides (Lk 4.1; Acts 16.7), convicts of sin (Jn 16.8), gives life (Jn 6.63), provides comfort (Jn 14.14-26), sanctifies (Rom 15.16), gives power (Acts 1.8), bears witness of Jesus (Jn 15.26), and calls and sends out witnesses (Acts 13.2, 4).  His activity is broad, encompassing all of life, and thus far from passive or hidden.

Third, life remains one-dimensional and profane without the Spirit.  The biblical witness tells me the Spirit moves upon mundane historical happenings and frail, ordinary people, as he wishes and for his purposes.  The Spirit is the apocalyptic interruption of the stream of historical happenings.  As he interrupts, happenings and people are transformed.  While Christ is the historical incarnation of God with us, the Spirit is the ever-coming, apocalyptic encounter of the divine within time and space.  How and when this happens is beyond my understanding and certainly outside of my control.  Like the wind that blows where it will, so the Spirit moves and serves his purpose or mission.

Fourth, mission and ministry are not works the church just does.  Rather, as Lesslie Newbigin reminds us, mission “is something done by the Spirit, who is himself the witness, who changes both the world and the church, who always goes before the church in its missionary journey.”[1] The Spirit is the preacher, teacher, missionary, chaplain, student worker, and social worker – in both an eschatological and existential sense.  God, as the free and acting Spirit, creates, launches and enables the church for witness and service.  The church, according to Craig van Gelder, is the community created by the Spirit for the purposes of the Spirit.[2] Thus, if the church is to be the church, it must be founded, led, shaped and empowered by the Spirit.  If the church is to participate in the coming of the kingdom of God on earth, the reign of the Spirit must be inaugurated and established in her midst.

Fifth, the question should never be – How do I get more of the Spirit?  Or how do I get the Spirit to do what I want?  Rather, the question is always – Does the Spirit have or possess me?   Can the Spirit do with me as he wants?  Whatever I might say about faith in God or submission to God becomes reality in the work of the Spirit.  All things considered, the Spirit’s activity is about who is in control of ministry and life.  Either ministry is my ministry, life is my life, or ministry and life are the Spirit’s.

So, I confess that the Spirit is the potential for every act, the possibility in every reality.  If I preach a sermon, doing everything just right, but the Spirit does not speak in and through my words, gestures, face, and ideas, then it is just my sermon – well crafted, cute, even award-winning, but still just my sermon.  If I rush to the hospital room of a dying person, perform all the duties of pastoral care in a competent and professional manner, and yet the Spirit does not enter the room with me, in me, then I bring only skill and competency, not healing and comfort.  If I open my Bible, reading it with adroit exegetical prowess, and yet, the Spirit does not teach me, correct me, or reprove me, then the text is not a light to my feet, nor will it shine through me.  If I befriend and love my neighbor and in due time speak clearly and appropriately of my faith in Jesus Christ with skill and empathy, but am void of the Spirit’s witness, then friendship and love remain merely my friendship and my love, and thus, surely fall short of true love and fail to transform.

As I ask the Spirit to come upon me and then wait upon the Spirit to do his work, I thereby do more than merely rely on being cute, making people laugh, turning a phrase, acting like a pleasant person, working hard, or sounding smart.  These are not bad.  In fact, they are good – too good.  When I rely on these rather than the Spirit, then preaching, teaching, witnessing, writing, and ministering can rise to greatness but in the end remain one-dimensional and temporal in their effect.  When filled with the Spirit, these have the potential to be acts of grace and hope, divine expressions of love and mercy.

So, as you and I live our lives, we must not quench the Spirit with our pride and self-confidence, or with our insecurity and fear.  Rather, we are to be filled with the Spirit, walk by the Spirit, and bear the fruit of the Spirit.  Brains, looks, good intentions, and even a great education are not enough.  In fact, they are all a bit over-rated.  Instead, in the course of ministry and life, we are to ask the Spirit continually to convert us – our words, actions, and intentions – into the likeness of God.  Through the Spirit’s continual conversion, there is great liberty to preach, write, witness, parent, befriend, serve, converse, smile, befriend – to love.

2 Corinthians 3:17 reminds us – “Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.  But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as from the Lord, the Spirit.”

[2] Craig Van Gelder, The Essence of the Church: A Community Created by the Spirit (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2000).

Will you join me in this journey?  Reading schedules for the Dogmatics exist (e.g., jrdkirk.com).  I like the suggestion of reading 15 pages a day.  At this rate, one can work their way through all 14 volumes in two years.  But even this leisurely pace sounds a bit too regimented.  I want to read everyday but only as much I want or need to read without a page number that might be too much or too little for a particular day, or that might interrupt Barth in the middle so some long and complicated section.  My plan is to read everyday (first thing in the morning) as far as I want.  I will log distance by the week rather than the day.  My goal is to get through about 125 pages a week.  (I do have other things to do!)

So, I invite you to join me.  Hopefully by making my intentions public and having some of you join me, I (we) will actually stay the course over the next 12 months.  By the way, a reprinted edition of Church Dogmatics is on sale for $129 at ChristianBook.com.  What a nice Christmas gift!