Forde got out of Biblicism; you can, too – 16

Forde: Neither inerrancy, nor Heilsgeschichte, nor existentialism


From Forde’s theological autobiography:

But in the seminary it soon became apparent that the ancient tradition was under attack. The attack, however, was not from without but from within. It was not, that is, the inroads of criticism and liberalism, etc., that were the ultimate source of trouble. Such inroads could temporarily at least be sidestepped, accommodated, or moderated. So we read Brunner (the most used in dogmatics classes as I recall), and Sittler, and Kantonen, and Nygren, and Tillich, etc., and they assured us that all was well in the “Neo-Orthodox” camp. Yet there was, for me at least, a certain unease. The surrender of biblical inerrancy to various versions of “truth as encounter” and other existentialist ploys seemed to lack the bite of the older views of biblical authority. Perhaps it was that something of the offense was gone. Yet there was no way back. Older views of biblical inerrancy were not an offense, they were just intellectually offensive. I was looking, I think, for something deeper and more compelling, a gospel authority that establishes itself by its own power and attractiveness, not a legal authority that simply demands submission.

Heilsgeschichte, then in vogue, dominated our theological classrooms. But it was at best a half-way house. It freed us from older views of authority based on biblical inerrancy but left us rather with serious questions about history. A Bible that is an authoritative mine for data to construct a historical scheme is, in the end, only somewhat better than a Bible of texts used to “prove” dogmatic propositions. The inchoate desire of my younger days for a more solid foundation was not satisfied.

My own theological education began one day when I was impelled to set off on my own search. That certain independence and reluctance to rely just on the word of my professors once again asserted itself. While attending a class on Galatians one day the question that was to occupy center stage for the rest of my theological career was posed, the question of the relation between human “responsibility” and divine election. The professor, bless his pious heart, stretched out his arms and said, “Men (there were only men in those days!), there are just some things we have to learn to hold in tension!” Something within me shouted NO! There are no doubt some things we might hold in tension, but not this thing, not the question of human salvation! I came to suspect that this was the real threat against the ancient tradition. I had to ask myself, “Was this the theology for which Luther was willing to see the church torn apart?” Was this the position over which he argued so desperately with Erasmus? I couldn’t believe it. This touched off my quest. And that questing centering around divine election, the bondage of the human will, and being a theologian of the cross accounts for the sum and substance of my theology.

The search for an answer to the question about Luther ushered me into a strange and exciting new world. Modern Luther research was just beginning to be imported from Europe. I poured over Luther on Galatians, read and reread Luther’s Bondage of the Will; I gobbled up the essays and monographs I could find on Luther’s “reformation discovery” and his theology in general (Wingren, Nygren, Prenter, Watson, Boehmer, Pauck, Rupp, etc.), as well as on related exegetical questions about the righteousness of God, justification, law and gospel, and so on.[1]

See further:

The theology at which I have arrived is the result of a quest for faith. It is not really an option for me. I do not see it, ultimately, as though it were one of many possible “expressions” of faith – even though I try to be as charitable towards those other expressions as I can. I have sought a theology which repeatedly calls me back from the brink of unbelief by its own intrinsic power. I believe I find this particularly in Luther’s understanding of being a theologian of the cross. For me that is not a matter of traditionalism or whatever pejorative charges those who like to play at such games like to hurl around. For “beyond” or “outside” such theology, I am threatened simply by unbelief. Which is to say, I suppose, that I simply cannot live on a “theology of glory.” If I fight adamantly in ecclesiastical circles, that is the reason.

Second, just a note about my work itself. Upon reflection I think that Christology, both the understanding of the work of Christ in atonement and of the person of Christ, might have been highlighted a little more than was immediately evident in Professor Nestingen’s article. Perhaps as a historian he is less impressed by “systematic” theological achievements! But I have been preoccupied not only with atonement, but also with the person of Christ, and it does seem to me – or at least it is my hope – that some of my most significant contributions to theology have been in this area. This is, of course, vital to the task of being a theologian of the cross today. What I have striven for throughout is a theology which relentlessly brings the cross and resurrection home to us, “does” it to us. It has seemed to me that the biggest problem systematically is that theology constantly gets in the way of the cross. I have sought a theology which gets out of the way for the cross. Rightly or wrongly, I think some of my best work is the fruit of that search.[2]



[1] Gerhard Forde, “The One Acted Upon,” dialog 36:1 (Winter 1997) 57-58.

[2] Gerhard Forde, “Response to James Nestingen’s article,” dialog 31:1 (Winter 1992) 34-35.

Forde got out of Biblicism; you can, too – 15

Romans 3:24: “[T]hey are justified by his grace as a gift….”

This verse is used by some to justify a semi-Pelagian view of salvation: To be saved, the gift of faith must be received by responding in faith. Thus the believer has a crucial role in salvation.

Forde: This semi-Pelagian interpretation of Scripture is wrong:

The assertion of “justification by faith” in the sixteenth-century Reformation can be understood only if it is clearly seen as a complete break with ‘justification by grace,’ viewed according to the synthesis we have been describing, as a complete break with the attempt to view justification as a movement according to a given standard or law, either natural or revealed. For the reformers, justification is “solely” a divine act. It is a divine judgment. It is an imputation. It is unconditional. All legal and moral schemes are shattered. Such justification comes neither at the beginning nor at the end of a movement; rather, it establishes an entirely new situation. Since righteousness comes by imputation only, it is absolutely not a movement on our part, either with or without the aid of what was previously termed “grace.” The judgment can be heard and grasped only by faith. Indeed, the judgment creates and calls forth the faith that hears and grasps it. One will mistake the reformation point if one does not see that justification “by faith” is in the first instance precisely a polemic against justification “by grace” according to the medieval scheme. Grace would have to be completely redefined before the word could be safely used in a reformation sense.[1]

See also the footnote to the above paragraph:

The recent penchant for combining grace and faith into the formula “justification by grace through faith” is perhaps understandable given certain modern developments, but (in spite of words suggesting such a formula in the Augsburg Confession IV) it is strictly speaking at best redundant and at worst compounding a felony. When one misses the complete interdependence of grace and faith (grace is the gift of faith; faith alone lets grace be grace), one turns faith into a “subjective response” and can only then cover one’s tracks by saying, “Of course, it comes by grace!” Faith then simply takes the place once occupied by “works” or “merit” in the medieval system and all the problems repeat themselves. Given such misunderstanding it is clear that one cannot use the formula “justification by faith” today without careful work of reclamation. [2]



[1] Gerhard Forde, “Justification,Church Dogmatics II:407. Italics in the original, bolding added.

[2] Forde, Church Dogmatics II: 407, footnote 7, on page 423. Italics in the original, bolding added.

The Lutheran: No Easter Gospel for Children

What to say to children facing the death of a loved one?

Death is “as natural as birth and life,” writes Diana Dworin,[1] quoting Theresa Huntley,[2] who also suggests parents seize “teachable moments,” like obituary notices or backyard burials of pets, as ways to “help even a young child learn about the process of grieving.”

When their dog died, Dworin told her kids: “God’s connection to us never changes—whether we live or die, or whether we’re people or poodles.”[3]

Whatever happened to the Easter gospel, that Jesus Christ died and rose again to give us life forever in Him? Is the Easter gospel too threatening for kids? Nothing, in the materials Dworin presents, ever mentions the Easter gospel.[4]

Something’s seriously wrong.[5]



[1]Dealing with death. Framing it as a natural part of life helps children grieve,” The Lutheran, March 2012, p.41. It’s O.K. to tell children about the manger but not the cross and resurrection?

[2] Theresa Huntley, Helping Children Grieve: When Someone They Love Dies (Augsburg Fortress 2002).

[3]Our family’s first loss,” The Lutheran, March 6, 2009. See also “Talking to children about disasters.” The Lutheran, March 2010.

[4] Dworin also givesa quarter of her page in the Lutheran to The Fall of Freddie The Leaf (Buscaglia)! There is a place for psychology, to be sure, but how can a Christian omit the Easter gospel when dealing with death, even with children?

[5] Perhaps Dworin’s regular column in The Lutheran, titled “Pass the faith,” should be titled “Pass over the faith.”

Golden Oldies– 5 Slick Magic

The ELCA’s Book of Faith is a kind of magic that lures readers to look in the wrong place at the right time. Read more here.

14. Forde got out of Biblicism; you can, too.

“If our Melanchthonian based free-choice pietism has lost its substance, and if we are appalled or at least worried by the drift of the church toward cultural Protestantism, where do we turn? Here is where the hermeneutic will tend powerfully to influence the choice. If the kind of interpretation suggested by Lindbeck is right, there would seem basically to be two possibilities. The first and most obvious is to turn back towards Rome. If we are a confessing movement in the church catholic, and if, in Tillichian terms, we have pushed our protestant principle to the degree of losing our catholic substance, then the only real way to find our substance again is to go back to Rome, that preeminent custodian of such catholic substance. Rome has had long experience with this sort of thing. Rome knows how to grant free choice with one hand and take it back with the other!”

“The other possibility would be the old Protestant move: back to the Bible, to move, perhaps, in the direction of so-called evangelical or fundamentalist Protestantism, lately dubbed fundagelicalism. If we are denominational Lutherans, basically critical of or anti-Rome, and yet fear the loss of substance, we would likely be attracted by the so-called evangelical or maybe even neo-pentacostal movements in contemporary Protestantism. They too, you might say, have a certain ability to grant freedom of choice with one hand and take it back with the other. You are free to choose Jesus, but once you do you better toe the mark! And one cannot overlook the fact that around the globe these days such movements manifest considerable vitality!”

“Disenchanted Lutherans today are attracted by both possibilities….When free-choice pietism has lost its moorings in the external Word, the only way to get it back in line is by turning to authority structures with the clout to do it. One can find that either in Roman-type hierarchicalism or in Biblicism. In either case, satis est non satis est. The gospel and the sacraments are not enough. They never are when they don’t bring the eschatological end and new beginning. An authority structure above and beyond the gospel must be added – a kind of substitute eschatology to assuage our impatience!”

“Do these hermeneutical alternatives define the parameters of our fate today? Are these the only possibilities available to us? I believe not. But I do think that if there is any fire left now, it will have to come more from Luther than our Melanchthonian tinged pietism.”1


1 Gerhard Forde, “Satis Est? What do we do when other churches don’t agree?” Unpublished lecture given to ELCA Teaching Theologians’ Conference, August 1990, pp. 11-12; emphasis added.

The real Roman Catholic roadblock to unity – (hint: not gay sex)

Sharing Communion by 2017 between Lutherans and Roman Catholics!?

Munib Younan, LWF President: “Our intention is to arrive at 2017 with a common Roman Catholic-Lutheran declaration on Eucharistic hospitality.”[1]

BUT:

That’s in “…the far and ultimately unreachable distance,” states Walter Cardinal Kasper.

For Rome sharing communion is “unreachable” if a church has women bishops – as Kasper, then head of the Vatican’s Council for Christian Unity, warned the Church of England’s Bishops in 2006.

“Ecumenical dialogue in the true sense of the word has as its goal the restoration of full Church Communion. That has been the presupposition of our dialogue until now. That presupposition would realistically no longer exist following the introduction of the ordination of women to episcopal office,” Kasper said.

He added that communing together is also impossible: “The shared partaking of the one Lord’s table, which we long for so earnestly, would disappear into the far and ultimately unreachable distance.”[2]

Is Younan implying the LWF will stop ordaining women bishops? Or simply clueless?

You can’t make this stuff up.



[1]Lutheran Leaders invite Pope to play a part in their 500th anniversary,” 12/31/2010.

[2]Unity impossible if Anglican Church ordains women bishops, says Cardinal Kasper,” Catholic News Agency (6/8/2006); emphasis added.

On the Trinity

The Trinity is not new math; it’s about salvation. Read more here.

Queries and Inquires

Real communion? One God? Polygamy? Tipping pastors?

Read more here.

Forde Fest 3!

Monday, June 18, 2012

ford

Engelbrecht claims: Major Lutheran scholars are wrong about a third use of the law.

Including Forde….

10:00 – 2:00 p.m.

Holy Nativity Lutheran Church, 3900 Winnetka Ave No., New Hope, MN

Cost: $10.00 for lunch and handouts

Sign up by contacting one of the three people below:

Stew Carlson stewcarlson@yahoo.com (651/207-3939)

Brad Jenson bcjenson@charter.net (218/625-2430)

Meg Madson mhmadson@comcast.net (763/475-0577)

Sponsored by The CrossAlone District of LCMC

Forde got out of Biblicism; you can, too – 13

The Bible says: “Repent and believe in the gospel.”[1] Does that mean that Forde was wrong? Does that mean that salvation is mostly God’s doing and partly ours?

Forde writes:

‘We have to do something, don’t we?’ – that is the pious sounding cry. Rather than face the question of death and life, we hope to get by with a little something! As Luther remarked, this kind of semi-Pelagianism is worse than full-blown Pelagianism.”[2]

Luther knew that one could use a text like Mark 1:15 against Christ, that is, in favor of saying salvation is 99% what Christ does and 1% what we do – repent and believe.

As Luther points out again and again, infants have faith, which is no surprise because in baptism God snatches us[3] in spite of ourselves.



[1]Mark 1:15.

[2] Gerhard Forde, Theology is for Proclamation (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1990) 142; emphasis added. See also Forde: “It is interesting – and significant – that Luther could see much more validity in out-right Pelagianism than he could in semi-Pelagianism of the so-called Christian humanists. At least, he said, the Pelagians believed that man could and should apply himself with his whole being to the pursuit of salvation, where the semi-Pelagians seem to think it could be gained for a pittance – exercising that little bit of ability supposedly left in man,” in Where God Meets Man, p. 51 by Forde; italics in the text; bolding added.

Luther: “These friends of ours, however, though they believe and teach the same, make dupes of us with deceptive words and a false pretense, as if they dissented from the Pelagians, though this is the last thing they do; so that if you go by their hypocrisy, they seem to be the bitterest foes of the Pelagians, while if you look at the facts and their real opinion, they themselves are Pelagians double-dyed” (LW 35:328).

[3] See Luther: “[E]ven if infants did not believe – which, however, is not the case, as we have proved – still their Baptism would be valid and no one should rebaptize them…” Large Catechism, Baptism, #55, BC 443.

In baptism the infant receives the Holy Spirit (SC, Baptism #10, BC 349), who, of course, cannot be quantified as if the infant only receives a portion of the Holy Spirit or a kick-start. Nor, again of course, does baptism depend on a “decision” made by the infant. Some also misunderstand the metaphor “gift” (e.g., Romans 3:24) to imply that what God does in baptism is a “gift” that has to be “accepted” even though the context (Romans 3:19-23) does not allow such a misunderstanding.

“[W]hat a great and excellent thing Baptism is, which snatches us from the jaws of the devil…” LC, Baptism, #83; BC 446, emphasis added.

“I believe that by my own reason or strength I cannot believe in Jesus Christ, my Lord, or come to him” Small Catechism, Creed, Third Article, #6; BC 345.

See also John 6:44: “No one comes to me unless the Father who sent me draws him.” And John 6:65, 15:16, Eph 1:4.