Continuity and discontinuity

In this account of modern theology one sort of limited continuity appears within schools of thought. Professor Schwarz sometimes shows how the ideas of one theologian influence the ideas of the next person considered, and so on. But the overall structure of the book is not one of organic growth. The reader has the impression that all modern theologies are wrestling with similar issues and that the problems of the nineteenth century reappear in the twentieth. Indeed, Professor Schwarz identifies several perennial themes: ‘We [theologians] are still concerned about how to correlate faith and knowledge, about the relationship between the Christian faith and other religions, and how significant the Christian hope is for our life and faith’ (p. 576).

On a larger scale, the overall continuity found in this treatment of modern theology is thematic. Before explaining this point I must express a caution. Professor Schwarz is not at all expansive about his evaluations of the theologies under consideration. Hence there are no extended comments that explain his views either of individuals or of larger movements. His assessments are revealed in sentences rather than paragraphs, in quick comments (or sometimes even single adjectives or adverbs) rather than long explanations. This brevity means that the following observations have been pieced together from hints and suggestions found in the book rather than from clear, explicit, extended evaluations. There is some risk involved in drawing conclusions from brief comments; the character of this undertaking should be considered in any evaluation of my description. (Note that I have chosen not to refer to Professor Schwarz's other writings but have confined my analysis to this one book. Interestingly, in a paper delivered at the 2006 Annual Meeting of the American Academy of Religion, Craig Nessan, who did draw upon Schwarz's other writings, came up with a list of themes very similar to the six identified below.)

What I mean by thematic continuity is this: all of the theologies described in this book are subject to the same criteria of evaluation. The expectation is for central theological themes to be treated with the seriousness found in biblically based Christian proclamation, and this expectation becomes the standard by which individual theologies are assessed. Whether Professor Schwarz is discussing theology in the nineteenth century or the twentieth century, in the Western world or in Asia, Africa and Latin America, the same theological priorities are valued. These include the following.

First, there is an emphasis on the sinfulness of human beings. This sinfulness compromises not just the past endeavours of humans but also the possibility of their making unqualifiedly positive contributions to society.

On p. 141, for example, Professor Schwarz makes the following observation about Washington Gladden: ‘while he saw the social ills and pointed them out, an awareness of the intrinsic corruption of humanity was missing in his view’. Similarly, the following comment appears on p. 487: ‘But Gutiérrez seems to neglect the fact that the immense depravity of humanity not only causes the conditions that cry out for liberation but also prevents liberation from becoming a historical event. That is why salvation calls for a totally new creation that cannot be realized by us’.

Second, there is an emphasis on the centrality of Christ. Whenever this centrality is downplayed by a theologian under consideration, whether for the sake of accommodating Enlightenment thought or affirming other religions, the author considers the downplaying to be a mistake.

When discussing Reinhold Niebuhr's Beyond Tragedy, Professor Schwarz comments in an affirmative way, ‘Niebuhr was not a philosopher of doom, but an astute interpreter of history from a more and more christocentric angle’ (p. 369). A few pages later, when discussing H. Richard Niebuhr, Professor Schwarz continues on the same theme: ‘Here it is not simply God and culture as in earlier American theological positions. But Christ has now become central for culture as both its judge and also its hope’ (p. 373).

This criterion can be a source of critique as well as affirmation. ‘In this desire [in Mary Daly's thought] for union and harmony with all elements of life, which indeed expresses a deep-felt desire in many people, a mystic yearning of oneness seems to have replaced the Christian vision of God the creator, sustainer, and redeemer’ (p. 498).

Frequently Professor Schwarz seems to critique theocentric approaches and to applaud christocentric theologies. While I agree with him that a developed christology is important for retaining the distinctive character of Christianity and that a theocentric approach may be problematic in this regard, I do not think he has taken the search for an alternative to the christocentricity of neo-Reformation theology seriously enough. The focus on the second article (of the Creed) in neo-Reformation theology left it ill-equipped to deal with some issues that are very much on the agenda at the beginning of the twenty-first century, such as sexuality, ecology, science and interfaith relations. The retrieval of themes growing out of the first article and the search for ways of speaking about a God who is active in the world – ways, that is, that do not ‘water down’ Christian distinctiveness – remain important endeavours.

In the end, it is not entirely clear whether Professor Schwarz is looking for a high evaluation of the person and work of Christ or whether he is looking for christocentricity. The latter would seem to be a more specific (and hence more problematic) criterion than the former.

Third, there is a positive appreciation of the theology of the cross and its capacity to recognise the degree of suffering in this world. ‘Theology of the cross’ is, of course, a concept borrowed from Martin Luther. It suggests that God can be seen most clearly through suffering and that a theologian's capacity to understand God is limited by the surprising character of God's self-revelation. (Who would have expected, Luther asked, for God to be revealed most clearly through a crucified itinerant preacher/teacher in an obscure corner of the world?)

Regarding Peter T. Forsyth, Professor Schwarz observes, ‘He anticipated [Karl] Barth's emphasis on revelation as God's self-disclosure and on a christocentric faith. Since the cross remained central for him, he escaped Barth's triumphalism’ (p. 383). Even though the book uses ‘triumphalism’ more than once, so far as I can see, the exact meaning of the concept is not explained. However, triumphalism clearly stands over against a theology of the cross (as that phrase is used by those influenced by Luther). The latter concept is the criterion at work here.

Fourth, there is an emphasis on the eschatological dimension of theology, especially as it affects christology. When discussing Stanley J. Samartha's ‘revised Christology’ and Samartha's description of the kingdom of God, which for him is the central message of Jesus, Professor Schwarz comments, ‘What is missing here [from Samartha's description] is the eschatological aspect of the kingdom’ (p. 526). Later in the same paragraph, Professor Schwarz connects christology and eschatology in a critique of Samartha's theology: ‘If Jesus is not seen as the eschatological event, then it is easy to consider him as one event among others. This is exactly what Samartha was doing in order to facilitate the dialogue with other religious traditions’.

In chapter 14, before Professor Schwarz discusses Clodovis Boff, Leonardo Boff and Gustavo Gutiérrez, he describes the reaction to liberation theology on the part of the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. He says, ‘Yet one is surprised that the deliberations by the congregation show little appreciation for the eschatological emphasis of liberation’ (p. 480). By contrast, ‘it is clear for Gutiérrez that in the Bible eschatology is “the driving force of salvific history radically oriented toward the future. Eschatology is thus not just one more element of Christianity, but the very key to understanding the Christian faith”’ (p. 486). The latter part of this observation could be descriptive, but the affirmation of the centrality of eschatology in the Bible (in the earlier part of the quotation) appears to be the author's own evaluative theological affirmation, not just a neutral description of Gutiérrez's priorities.

Fifth, there is a positive attitude towards ecumenism (while not overlooking the richness of denominational traditions). On p. 409, Professor Schwarz observes that, because of the collapse of Soviet Communism, ‘during the latter half of the twentieth century, theological discourse became truly ecumenical, including the great traditions of the East and the West’. He reiterates the observation in the conclusion when he says, ‘While denominational affiliations are still significant, because they provide the historical context for theological reflection, theology has become ecumenical’ (p. 576). Both of these statements are descriptive, but these developments are never lamented and never the occasion for criticism. Throughout the book, references to ecumenical theology are always positive.

Sixth, there is an affirmation of the importance of engaging one's particular social and cultural context so long as that engagement does not obscure the central features of theology mentioned in the previous points.

‘In [Desmond] Tutu's “practical theology” we witness in an exemplary way how theology touches the lives of the people and effects a large-scale change’ (p. 503). ‘Again we notice here [in Vengal Chakkari's theology] the use of Indian religious concepts to express the tenets of the Christian faith in an uncompromising way without sacrificing a point of contact between the Indian religious context and the Christian faith’ (pp. 521–2). And, regarding John Mbiti, ‘He rightly emphasizes the need of a point of contact between the people's experience and the challenge of the gospel’ (p. 506).

Interestingly, the latter two evaluative comments employ the phrase ‘a point of contact’, the topic of Karl Barth's ‘No!’ addressed to Emil Brunner. In this book, the references to Karl Barth are usually positive. And, if one merely counts pages (even though I do not claim much for this way of measuring significance!), there are more pages devoted to Barth than to any other single thinker. But at two places (at least) Barth's thought comes in for criticism. As we have already seen, he is accused of ‘triumphalism’. And in the present setting Professor Schwarz clearly does not accept Barth's rejection of any ‘point of contact’ between the gospel and the human experience. Instead, those points of contact identified by African and Asian theologians are seen to be valid expressions of contextual theology.

We are left with some questions for further discussion. Has this approach fully explored the consequences of geographical/cultural contextualisation? Is it possible that a ‘sound’ set of theological proposals could move outside the boundaries of the evaluative themes enumerated above? Is it possible that the appropriation of the biblical story could call into question the theological tradition? If the answer to either of the last two questions is ‘yes’, then how could such proposals be evaluated?

Here is yet another: Professor Schwarz claims that ‘Vatican II signaled the entry of the Roman Catholic Church and its theologians into the ecumenical dialogue’ (p. 576). Prior to this, ‘the official trademark of Roman Catholic theology’ had ‘not been creativity, but fidelity to the teaching office. Only with Vatican II and the exoneration of many of the most creative and productive minds in recent Roman Catholic theology did the picture change’ (p. 410). How is creativity related to fidelity – not necessarily the fidelity of pre-Vatican II Roman Catholic theology, but the fidelity to the Christian tradition that Schwarz himself expects? Professor Schwarz is certainly not the only historian of philosophy or historian of theology to value creativity. But what counts as appropriate creativity? How do we know it when we see it? For example, is not a fundamentalist theology, despite its own stated intentions, also in some sense ‘creative’, given its modernity and its new formulation of the tradition?

Increasing tenuous character of theological assertions

I turn now to the second topic: what does the book suggest regarding reasons for the increasingly tenuous character of the assertions theologians make?

When Professor Schwarz explains why he begins his story with Kant rather than with Reimarus, he observes that ‘in virtually all areas of knowledge we have become much more tenuous with our assertions’ (p. xvii). Why has this caution developed? Schwarz himself suggests one answer – namely, the influence of Immanuel Kant. I do not disagree that this is a significant factor, but I do wonder: what else has been going on.

Allow me to suggest some possible answers. Another factor producing theological caution has been the recognition of the importance of context. If every theological assertion reflects a time and a place, then the timeless assertions upon which pre-modern theologians (including, ironically, Kant himself) based their confidence are no longer possible. And, if timeless assertions are impossible, then assertions are transitory and incomplete. A new caution enters the picture.

In the twentieth century yet another factor has been the growing awareness of theology's capacity to ‘validate’ political and social arrangements that end up oppressing someone. Western Christians have learned from the ‘younger churches’ about the effects of colonialism. Liberation theologies have called attention to the effects of racial distinctions, gender distinctions, and economic/class distinctions. The net result is a new consciousness of the ‘interested’ and therefore limited perspective from which a theologian speaks.

Added to this is the heightened awareness of other religions. Two hundred years ago little good information was available in Europe regarding, for example, Buddhism and Hinduism. Throughout the two hundred years covered in the book, more and more information about other religions became available, and more and more Christians came to have contact with practitioners of other religions, whether in their own societies or elsewhere around the world. Emphatic claims for Christian superiority are harder to make when one not only understands other world religions more fully but also knows and respects persons who practise and represent those religions.

Again, questions emerge that warrant our attention: from time to time, it becomes clear that Professor Schwarz appreciates bold affirmations of the Christian faith (over against idealism and over against Nazism, for example). As theological conservatives often wonder, how is this boldness possible if modern theology continues to be cautious about its pronouncements? Quite apart from the assertions of such spokespersons, is there any tension between boldness and the sort of tenuous claims Schwarz has in mind?

The contextual character of theology in a global context

The third topic: what can one say about the historically and geographically contextual character of this book? In what ways is the book, which covers two hundred years of historically and geographically contextual theology, itself historically and geographically contextual? What are the consequences of recognising that this survey of global theology is also rooted in a time and a place?

To highlight the nature of the question, we might ask ourselves, how would this book have been different if it had been written by a fundamentalist Pentecostal theologian from Latin America or by a Greek Orthodox monk living in Israel? The book itself provides little help in answering the question of its own context. So, allow me to speculate.

This book is written by a German theologian with close ties to the United States and a good deal of international experience (see p. xiv). On the one hand it chronicles 150 years of leadership Germany provided for Protestant theology. On the other hand it acknowledges the growing proliferation of theological creativity, especially during the last half of the twentieth century. It evaluates these developments in two ways – through theological priorities that grow out of the traditions, experiences and dead ends of Western theology (see the themes sketched above) and through evidence of creative interaction with local culture.

The global scope of this book appears to be a reflection of cultural and ecclesiastical developments in our own day. It is clearer to us than it was to persons in the West two hundred years ago that important things are happening in the non-north-Atlantic world. And, at least since the astronauts walked on the moon and sent down those dramatic pictures of planet earth, we all have been more acutely conscious of the relatively small size of this planet and the connections among its various peoples. (This is not to say that we have behaved any better toward each other!) This book's treatment of theology as a global phenomenon is one expression of that consciousness.

The author is Protestant, and this perspective influences the overall portrait. For example, the French Revolution does not figure very prominently as a major turning point, as it usually does in Roman Catholic accounts of the nineteenth century. There is little attention to neo-scholastic thinkers, whose thinking influenced in one way or another many of the developments in Roman Catholic theology during the early decades of the twentieth century.

Although I am not claiming that this is the author's intention, it is possible (as a reader or a ‘third party’) to see the author's emphasis on taking account of human sinfulness not only as a theme carried over from the pre-modern Western tradition but also as a reflection of Germany's struggle to come to terms with the tragic consequences of Nazism and with the role theological tendencies may have played in fostering the conditions for Nazism's acceptance. One cannot study seriously the consequences of the First World War and the horrific events of the Second World War without coming face-to-face with the complexity of good and evil, the ambiguity of schemes for social improvement and the complicity of the church in social evil. Although some theologians in the United States have pondered the theological implications of the Depression, the Vietnam War and ongoing racism, these tragic developments have perhaps been more easily overlooked in a nation still obsessed by its own high motives and by its own powerful status in the world. The post-Second World War European context may have permitted a more straightforward look at the complexity of the past and the complexity of the church's influence on the future.

Likewise, the emphasis on the importance of eschatology can be seen as an endeavour to avoid two extremes present in the West: the post-Enlightenment tendency to be overly optimistic about human potential and the tendency, on the other side, to adopt a quietism that disengages the faith from social problems. There is nothing uniquely German about these problems, but the first could be seen in late nineteenth-century cultural Protestantism, and the second was evident in the conservative response to Nazism.

The emphasis on the importance of ecumenical sensitivity is also contextual. Post-Reformation, pre-modern theology (both Protestant and Roman Catholic) sought to formulate timeless propositions. Writing theology was a little like writing a geometry textbook, full of axioms and theorems and corollaries. By contrast, modern theology saw its task as descriptive. It did not take long before theologians recognised that it was quite possible to have more than one true description of an event. Modern theology thus provided a framework within which to understand theological differences and work for ecumenical reconciliation. Professor Schwarz, quite appropriately, is an heir to this tradition.

Here too we are left with questions. There has been no attempt in this book to hide its contextual character, but would it be helpful for theologians who undertake a work such as this to be even more explicit about their own contextuality? Does not the absence of such references create the (false) impression of a ‘God's-eye’ view of the developments under discussion? Would it be possible with a more explicit acknowledgment of one's own contextuality to expand on the evaluative component while avoiding any claim to a ‘God's-eye’ view?

Final comment

In the ‘Preface’, Professor Schwarz acknowledges the influence of the AAR's Nineteenth-Century Theology Group. For twenty years, he writes, he has ‘actively participated in many of its sessions and learned much from my colleagues in this group’. In it, he says, he ‘also discovered how influential many figures of the nineteenth century were on the major theological players of the twentieth century and beyond’ (p. xiv). Theology in a Global Context reveals the many continuities between those two centuries that Schwarz himself has come to understand and appreciate.