Hi Jim,

We do have different understandings of what it means to be Reformed, but then there is nothing new under the sun. Barth was, of course, always citing Reformed heroes as models on the one hand and critiquing some of their theological choices on the other. (In that regard no one was safe, Protestant or Catholic, which I think is actually a very Reformed attitude to take toward the theological task.) While I would agree in some measure that Barth differs from the Reformed tradition in his Christocentrism, I do not believe this (or the ways in which it works out in a particular doctrine, even that of election) disqualifies him from club membership. But that is part of another, very large conversation topic.

Allow me one final rejoinder for my part, and then I am content to give you or Camden the last word here. Having looked at your reference to CD III/3, p. xi, I am not convinced that Barth affirmed the label of “Christomonism” with respect to his theology. He speaks of it in this Preface as a negative accusation and a “not very pretty slogan.” Barth understood himself to be directed at every moment by (and toward) the christological thread that runs through Christian theology, and you are certainly right that this thread is the center that holds everything together. It is this thread that he affirms as commanding his own work. But he does not seem to have very much liked this radical Christocentrism to be called a “Christomonism,” as his critics did, as if the relative independence of other doctrines had to finally give way and collapse under the weight of a Jesus-onlyism.

Instead, Barth’s intention was to allow the reality of Jesus Christ to serve as the starting point of theological reflection, as well as its ultimate end, and to continually correct our course along the way through the system of doctrine. “Christology has to be carried through as the life-centre of theology in these other spheres of dogmatic deliberation” (CD II/1, p. 242; cf. p. 320) — something I suspect he was not the first to say in the history of Christian theology. To be Christocentric is to have one’s theology normed by Jesus Christ; it is not to say that “Jesus Christ” is all there is to say about a doctrine of revelation, or of providence, or of creation, or of the church.

My intent in the above posts is merely to encourage a cautious and fully-informed reading of Barth. That encouragement applies just as well to me: God knows that we theologians are just as much at risk of giving our friends a free pass as we are reading our opponents without a full measure of charity. Nothing more may be asked of Barth’s interpreters, regardless of how each of us finally comes down on the theological matters at issue — nor should anything less be expected.

Again, a fine work on the Reformed Forum podcast for all involved, and I look forward to listening more in the future.

Darren, thank you for your continual interaction. I would like to begin with what you said here: “The God of creation remains utterly unknown apart from God’s personal, self-disclosure in Jesus (something with which many in Reformed orthodoxy would certainly agree).”

Actually Ro would not agree with that. Certainly, neither as it stands in its unqualified sense nor in the way in which Barth means it. Barth begins with a fundamental dualism in his thought between God and everything else. It is a dualism which is born out of a modernistic (read: Kantian) ontology. Reformed theology, on the other hand, acknowledges a creator-creature distinction. God and creature share nothing ontologically in common, meaning that God is unknown were it not for an act of condescension on his part. He condescends to us, as he (to use Calvin’s expression) lisps to us by way of covenant. And that covenant, along with who God is, is made known to man in God’s revelation, both in the things that have been made (Rom 1:20), and his subsequent word-revelation given directly (as when he speaks to Adam in the Garden and as he speaks directly to the prophets) as well as mediated in Scripture (2 Tim 3:16, 1 Peter 1:20ff). And of course, most ultimately – or, eschatologically – God reveals himself in his Son (Heb 1).

For Barth, however, God’s revelation can never be bound up with a book (CD I.2, 463; for Barth’s denial of the doctrine in infallibility and inerrancy see CD 1.2, 508-9), with the words of men, or even history (CD I.2, 58-59) – and certainly not creation. That is not to say, however, that those things don’t matter for Barth. They do (“the witness…has still something very positive to say,” ibid., 463). But they matter as mere witnesses to the revelation of God which is found only in the act of God in Jesus Christ. Your reference to the lights, along with Barth’s well know statement about God revealing himself through a dead dog (CD I.1, 55), actually highlight my point. These things are not revelation itself, but they are witnesses to revelation. Of course, they can become revelation to me in so much as I receive them as such by faith (“it is simply revelation as it comes to us…it has become for us an actual presence and event,” CD I.2, 463) . But that is never the actual revelation of God (The Bible is both distinguished from and related to revelation, but never identical with it). To go the route of Ro is to once again build upon the foundation of metaphysics. Revelation is never a thing which is possessed, but it is only and always an act of God in Jesus Christ.

The problem with your way of expression above is that you attempt – like most English speaking interpreters of Barth – to smooth over the differences between him and traditional Protestant and Reformed theology (which is impossible to do, I believe, given Barth’s clear attack on Ro’s doctrine of Scripture in CD I.2, 520ff). That, I think, is a shame. Barth is much too innovative, not to mention brilliant, to be so easily placed in such a close relation to a theology he ostensibly rejected. Let’s give the man some credit.

As for Christomonism, Barth himself, of course affirmed the statement relative to his own theology (CD III.3, xi). Its actually what holds his system together, and does so brilliantly. Its an endearing feature of his thought for me, and his consistency is admirable. He affirmed it, its clearly there, and is the center that holds together every thing else he has to say about theology. Lets please not rob him of his genius and consistently applied insight. In other words, let Barth be Barth.

Letting Barth be Barth, however, also means that there is a cost. And the cost, which you and so many others do not seem willing to pay, is that the difference between him and Ro is radical. You cannot sit on the fence. Barth himself won’t let you. Its either Reformed Christianity or Barthianism. The twain shall not meet.

Thanks for that, Jim. Here’s what I think is going on here: There has always been a debate among the interpreters of Barth (sympathetic and unsympathetic) over how to interpret his Christocentrism and its extent — i.e. the role that it plays in his theology as a whole. Some suggest that Jesus Christ is the beginning of all theological reflection for Barth, and Christology a sort of ‘master control’ — but not to the degree that all other doctrines are left trammeled. Others believe that Barth’s Christocentrism is so radical and so controlling that it is really a Christomonism — wherein all theology is reduced to Christology, rather than being controlled by reflection upon Jesus’ person and work.

The argument for Christomonism is what I see in your description of Barth’s doctrine of revelation. When Barth says that revelation is in Christ alone, this is a bigger category than many often recognize. It is not to say that Scripture is not divine revelation (particularly in the sense in which American evangelicals understand that term) (see the way in which Barth speaks of Scripture in CD I); it is not even to say that the created order is lacking the so-called ‘fingerprints’ of God (see the “little lights” discussion in CD IV/3.1). The argument against “natural theology” is an important one, and certainly fundamental for Barth’s understanding of God’s revelation. But one cannot read the Brunner exchange and think one has Barth figured out (I am speaking generally here — I’m not suggesting this is what you have done). To exclude either Scripture or creation from the locus of revelation entirely is a too-simplistic reading of Barth’s work.

Revelation is Christocentric for Barth, not Christomonist. This means that revelation in all its forms ultimately falls back upon the Christ event as its source and as its norm. The God of creation remains utterly unknown apart from God’s personal, self-disclosure in Jesus (something with which many in Reformed orthodoxy would certainly agree); the Spirit who moved the apostles and prophets moved them to testify to Jesus and the work of God in him. When this broader notion of a Christocentric doctrine of revelation is understood, we will recognize that it’s not quite as far from either Reformed orthodoxy or evangelicalism as we thought.

Thanks again for the conversation.

I would agree, Jim, with your assessment that Barth is wrong under one condition: that we recognize that he is not wrong because he goes too far, but because he does not go far enough. In reading Volume I of the Dogmatics, I came to the conclusion that Barth’s trinitarian understanding of revelation was at odds with his assessment of Scripture—if he were consistently Trinitarian, he would end up concluding that Scripture is inerrant!

The other thing that he doesn’t do is to recognize that though incarnation is a necessary condition for revelation, it is not the only means and, further, is retroactively applied in the OT through covenant. His rejection of natural theology goes too far here. Further, it contradicts the clear teaching of Scripture. That said, his Christocentric and Trinitarian approach is very promising and warrants consideration.

You all said that a three-circled Venn diagram is not a great model for the Trinity, and I would agree in that it is impossible to draw or encapsulate God with any created image. But what if the circles are drawn to represent the contents of the individual Persons’ minds? I’m not sure what all perichoresis (in all honesty the phrase “interpenetration of the persons” doesn’t explain much) entails and so I can’t sign on as of yet, but I certainly agree that there is no “part” (as you put it) of any person of the trinity that is withheld or inaccessible from any other. When Camden said that the Son knows that he is not the Father, this goes to show my point perfectly. If you were to model their thoughts (which we have no obligation to do of course!), there would be a thought belonging to the Son and not the Father or Spirit. There are nuances to what I’m proposing here as outlined before at the following comment if you are interested. Thanks for the show.

http://reformedforum.wpengine.com/podcasts/ctc163/#comment-34534

If I could just throw into the mix an item which first needs to be hashed out before further dialogue on Barth and the Trinity can be fruitful.

What I have in mind is Barth’s doctrine of Revelation. Darren said, “Barth was deeply concerned about our speculation about this God apart from the way in which He has revealed Himself. ” Right here we are faced with the deepest of differences between Reformed orthodoxy (Ro) and Barth.

How has God revealed himself? Barth says it is in – and only in – the event of revelation which is Jesus Christ. Ro wants to say that while Jesus Christ himself is the eschatological, and thus the redemptive-historical climax of the fullness of the revelation of God, God has not withheld his revelation either before or after the incarnation of the Son. God, therefore, has revealed himself in the things that have been made (Rom 1), which of course Barth rejected.

And as an aside here, I might go so far as to say without the Reformed doctrine of general revelation, there can be no Ro. It is that essential to a Reformed system of doctrine.

God has also revealed himself in the Scriptures. And in the Scriptures he reveals himself as a self-contained ontological Trinity. Therefore, there is no speculation in speaking about the Trinity as a se and self-existent quite prior to and independent of God’s act in Jesus Christ. Part of the failure of Barth’s project is found in a false diagnosis of the tradition’s ills. The Reformed tradition has problems, but speaking in metaphysical terms was not necessarily one of them. And that is because the Scriptures themselves speak about metaphysical realities.

In summary, Barth’s doctrine of revelation and Scripture undermine the whole basic system of Ro, and it does so in part because Barth places Scripture under the bar of modernity.

I don’t think that Barth would object at all to talk of God’s immanent, a se life that has always existed without respect to creation and covenant. That is certainly all over Volume I of the Church Dogmatics, though part of the current debate is over how to relate this earlier material to his fully matured Christology. I myself think there is a high degree of continuity — but Barth was deeply concerned about our speculation about this God apart from the way in which He has revealed Himself. So while God exists a se (that is, He does not rely upon creation for His being), (a) it is in and through the economy that God has given Himself to be known, and so it is here that we should seek Him; and (b) the God we come to know here is the selfsame God of the inner triune life. Were it not so, the economy of salvation and the event of Jesus Christ simply would not be authentic revelation.

Much of what Barth has done in collapsing the distinction between the immanent and the economic God relies in turn upon his actualist ontology, which suggests that even with respect to His own essence God is a self-determining God.

How much any of this complies with Reformed “orthodoxy” is up for debate, though that wasn’t a question that particularly vexed Barth himself. His intent was, like his Reformed forebearers, to remain faithful to Scripture even where it meant parting ways with a creed or interpretive tradition.

I’m confused on your second paragraph, above, however: If you see that Barth rejects McCormack’s prioritizing of election before Trinity, why do you say that Barth thus stands at odds with the Reformed tradition? McCormack’s very point here is that Barth failed to consistently escape the tradition of metaphysics in which he was steeped. He was more orthodox here, in maintaining that God is triune apart from His election to be God-for-us.

Darren,

Thanks for the helpful response. In terms of your first clarification, I’m not sure it helps Barth’s case at all (at least its prospects for complying with Reformed orthodoxy). Certainly in history, God does not exist but as the condescended covenantal God. Even in the eternal decree, God has condescended by turning his eternal, a se thoughts outside of himself. But logically speaking, God is not “always” for us. Even so, according to Reformed orthodoxy, God is “always” (i.e. essentially) triune. We then have an identity between the immanent and economic Trinity in terms of what God we are speaking of, but there is also a distinction between God in himself and God for us.

On that note, I want to make the distinction in Barth’s theology between God’s ability to exist independently of an act of revelation and the Trinity as an act of revelation. As I understand it, this is the conclusion McCormack draws from Barth’s writings even though Barth rejects it. I agree with McCormack on this point, and it puts Barth thoroughly at odds with the Reformed tradition.

Thanks for your reference to Hector’s article. I also appreciated the recent Trinity and Election in Contemporary Theology, which is a collection of essays on the subject and includes one from Hector.

(1) Barth’s point on the relation of the triune God to creation is not that “God can only exist in an act of revelation,” but that God does only exist as the revealing God — and that by virtue of God’s sovereign, self-determining election. “Can” implies that God is bound to creation in a truly Hegelian sense, and Barth was very clear that this is not the case. God is free to exist as what we might call the God of the “economy,” and Barth’s point is that, once He has done so, we may not look behind this revelation for some other, “hidden” God.

Whatever conceptual benefit the doctrine of the Trinity may gain from the immanent-economic distinction, then, Barth is convicted (with Rahner) that such a “God-in-Himself” is neither different from nor more authentic than God-for-us.

(2) It is important to note (as I think you tried to) that McCormack’s thesis of the Trinity logically following election is McCormack’s conclusion of what Barth’s various theological commitments ought to entail. This is a moment of thinking “with and beyond Barth” — but Barth himself did not hold this position. Of course the thesis is heavily disputed even within Barth circles; a recent mediating essay that is worth looking at is Kevin Hector’s “Immutability, Necessity and Triunity: Towards a Resolution of the Trinity and Election Controversy,” SJT 65 no. 1 (2012): 64-81.

Thanks again!