Grace and Peace
"Grace is the crisis from death to life...the Gospel of Christ is a shattering disturbance, an assault which brings everything into question. For this reason, nothing is so meaningless as the attempt to construct a religion out of the Gospel, and to set it as one human possibility in the midst of others...this attempt has been undertaken more consciously than ever before in Protestant theology -- and it is a betrayal of Christ. The person under grace is engaged unconditionally in a conflict. This conflict is a war of life and death, a war in which there can be no armistice, no agreement -- and no peace." (Karl Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 225)
Grace as a crisis?
Isn't grace supposed to alleviate crises?
Isn't grace supposed to make us feel better?
The Gospel as shattering?
Isn't the Gospel supposed to put the pieces of existence back together?
Where's the Good News in being broken?
Protestant "open-mindedness" a betrayal of Christ?
Aren't we supposed to model inclusiveness?
Isn't inclusiveness and acceptance the ways toward peace?
The person under grace perpetually in a conflict?
Why can't we make peace and move on?
Barth's commentary on Romans was first published in 1918. Europe was in shambles in the aftermath of The Great War. Trenches, barbed wire and the slaughter of millions in the "no-man's land" of the mustard gas cloud and the rain of machine gun rounds had laid waste the Continent and to the Liberal Protestant theological project as well.
Simply put, the liberal premise suggested human progress, in and of itself (and as an instrument of God) would eventually effect salvation for the whole world. What the Liberal Protestant project failed to take into account were the twin powers of Sin and Death.
Grace and Peace are the words which we throw around frequently in the church. These two words often devolve into code words for a saccharine spirituality that lacks any awareness of the dynamic Power these terms convey.
Grace and Peace aren't merely theological window dressing -- pretty words that sound comforting in rooms punctuated by the spackled light of stained glass. Grace and Peace aren't light and airy. Grace and Peace are found in the muck of existence.
Grace and Peace came embodied in Jesus. Jesus enacted what it means to live as Grace and Peace. And the socio-political system of the time, awash in Sin and Death nailed Grace and Peace to a cross.
Grace and Peace, as ways of living in the world, received their vindication in the resurrection of Jesus from the dead -- overturning the power of Sin and Death.
Grace and Peace are present in the Work of the Holy Spirit -- the howling Wind of God's creative power -- at work within real people in real time to proclaim a real Gospel.
Baptized into Christ's death and resurrection and living as God's people, empowered by the Holy Spirit, how can we ever entertain negotiating an armistice with Sin and Death and calling such a travesty "peace"?
Where would the grace be in that?
"Grace is the crisis from death to life...the Gospel of Christ is a shattering disturbance, an assault which brings everything into question. For this reason, nothing is so meaningless as the attempt to construct a religion out of the Gospel, and to set it as one human possibility in the midst of others...this attempt has been undertaken more consciously than ever before in Protestant theology -- and it is a betrayal of Christ. The person under grace is engaged unconditionally in a conflict. This conflict is a war of life and death, a war in which there can be no armistice, no agreement -- and no peace." (Karl Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, p. 225)
Grace as a crisis?
Isn't grace supposed to alleviate crises?
Isn't grace supposed to make us feel better?
The Gospel as shattering?
Isn't the Gospel supposed to put the pieces of existence back together?
Where's the Good News in being broken?
Protestant "open-mindedness" a betrayal of Christ?
Aren't we supposed to model inclusiveness?
Isn't inclusiveness and acceptance the ways toward peace?
The person under grace perpetually in a conflict?
Why can't we make peace and move on?
Barth's commentary on Romans was first published in 1918. Europe was in shambles in the aftermath of The Great War. Trenches, barbed wire and the slaughter of millions in the "no-man's land" of the mustard gas cloud and the rain of machine gun rounds had laid waste the Continent and to the Liberal Protestant theological project as well.
Simply put, the liberal premise suggested human progress, in and of itself (and as an instrument of God) would eventually effect salvation for the whole world. What the Liberal Protestant project failed to take into account were the twin powers of Sin and Death.
Grace and Peace are the words which we throw around frequently in the church. These two words often devolve into code words for a saccharine spirituality that lacks any awareness of the dynamic Power these terms convey.
Grace and Peace aren't merely theological window dressing -- pretty words that sound comforting in rooms punctuated by the spackled light of stained glass. Grace and Peace aren't light and airy. Grace and Peace are found in the muck of existence.
Grace and Peace came embodied in Jesus. Jesus enacted what it means to live as Grace and Peace. And the socio-political system of the time, awash in Sin and Death nailed Grace and Peace to a cross.
Grace and Peace, as ways of living in the world, received their vindication in the resurrection of Jesus from the dead -- overturning the power of Sin and Death.
Grace and Peace are present in the Work of the Holy Spirit -- the howling Wind of God's creative power -- at work within real people in real time to proclaim a real Gospel.
Baptized into Christ's death and resurrection and living as God's people, empowered by the Holy Spirit, how can we ever entertain negotiating an armistice with Sin and Death and calling such a travesty "peace"?
Where would the grace be in that?
posted by FrGaryB | 7:33 PM
3 Comments:
Come to think of it, I guess this is why I have such a strange affection for the Dadaists. They tried to do to capital-A-Art what Barth et al tried (more successfully, I think) to do to capital-P-Protestantism. In both cases the nightmare of 1914-18 had an indelible imprint...that "insane spectacle of collective homicide."
"I don't have to tell you that for the general public and for you, tlhe refined public, a Dadaist is the equivalent of a leper. But that is only a manner of speaking. When these same people get close to us, they treat us with that remnant of elegance that comes from their old habit of belief in progress. At ten yards distance, hatred begins again. If you ask me why, I won't be able to tell you."
- Tristan Tzara
The Liberal Protestant project is still with us in this country, I suspect.
I think it's because we haven't seen the horrors of "collective suicide" piled up in fields and on roadsides in nearly 150 years. When the carnage is "over there", it's easy to begin to think that Americans are the exception to the rule (this exceptionalism then flowers into arrogance).
Barth's work on Romans is stunning because it illustrates so vividly the power of the biblical text to speak to a particular context that is far removed from the original setting in which it was written.
Barth's commentary has had me reading Romans with a different set of exegetical lenses this time around -- attempting to see Paul's argument not simply from a rhetorical or historical-critical point of view; not simply as a theological primer of how the individual is "saved". The soteriology Paul advocates (and that Barth has elucidated for me) is played out in the entire creation -- and it's God's work through the faithfulness of Jesus...not our efforts at self-improvement or better living through better behavior.
What does Romans have to say to the continued American attraction to "progress", to the notion that any thing can be accomplished if one simply puts one's energies and efforts toward it?
What is Romans' challenge to the even more seductive collective notion that we, as a "superpower", can save the world through unfettered capitalism (even if we have to bomb the hell out of everyone who would stand in our way to accomplish this faux-salvation)?
How does Romans speak to an anorexic soteriology that neither excites our imaginations nor fuels us for mission?
I have thought and thought about what I want to say, and I could say a lot, but instead here's one of Hauerwas' "Prayers Plainly Spoken" that puts the point more clearly than I ever could:
Do Not Rob Me of Anger
Dear Lord, I am filled with anger born of frustration. I confess I know not whether all my anger is of you. I just know I am filled with hope, which makes me angry that others are not so filled. Take away the self-aggrandizing righteousness that so often accompanies such anger, but do not rob me of the anger. It is energy. Make it to be of service. Help me pass it on. We are taught by this world to fear anger. Yet we know you are a just judge, angry because we are not justly angry. We want you to be like us - get along by going along. You will not play that game. You expect your church to be faithful - yes, angry. Make us a people with dark brows capable of scaring a few folk. May they look at us and say, "Those guys are so filled with love their anger overflows." Amen.
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