Category Archives: Karl Barth

New Creation Literacy

Perhaps the most significant passage in Scripture explaining the power of awakened (or illuminated) literacy is found in 2 Corinthians 4:6, and it’s particularly interesting given the parallels:

For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness” [first creation], has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ [new creation].

Gospel awakening is an act of new creation finding its appropriate parallel in the initial act of cosmic creation. And just about everyone from Matthew Henry onward has acknowledged this. But the context of this passage has everything to do with reading (2 Cor. 3:15). If we ourselves read over this too quickly we can miss is how new creation illumination, enacted by God on a spiritually dead heart, brings with it a permanent and abiding change to the literacy faculties.

But Christian literacy is more than mere noetic intellectual awakening because, in Christ, Christian literacy is God-appointed means for the regenerated soul to live and move and have its being. Scripture itself takes on new meaning and significance to us, it begins to live, it affects us, it begins to claim us, and it begins to change our behaviors and attitudes. This is a key point Karl Barth understands and well articulates in Church Dogmatics (IV/3.2, §71.2):

“In thy light shall we see light” (Ps. 36:9)… There is a god of this world — we are reminded of the darkness in Col. 1:13 — who has darkened the thinking of unbelievers “lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them” (2 Cor. 4:4). To continue the quotation already adduced: “For it is the worst evil that can befall us not to see the light.” But the true “God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness (Gen. 1:3), hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Cor. 4:6). As His God, “the God of our Lord Jesus Christ,” He gives him “the spirit of wisdom and revelation” in which he may know him, “the eyes of your understanding being enlightened; that ye may know what is the hope of his calling, and what the riches of the glory of his inheritance in the saints, and what is the exceeding greatness of his power to us-ward who believe,” in short, what is proffered to man and awaits him in Him (Eph. 1:17f), and what is the structure of the mystery concealed from all eternity in God the Creator of all things (Eph. 3:9). Man is called as this knowledge is imparted to him. By this knowledge Christians are distinguished as the called from others who are not called.

If we are to understand this process, however, we cannot pay too much attention to the fact that in it we really have to do with a new creation. According to the speech and thought-forms of the Bible, concepts such as light, illumination, revelation and knowledge do not have, either alone or in their interrelationships, the more narrowly intellectual or noetic significance which here as elsewhere we usually give them. The light or revelation of God is not just a declaration and interpretation of His being and action, His judgment and grace, His endowing, directing, promising and commanding presence and action.

In making Himself known, God acts on the whole man. Hence the knowledge of God given to man through his illumination is no mere apprehension and understanding of God’s being and action, nor as such a kind of intuitive contemplation. It is the claiming not only of his thinking but also of his willing and work, of the whole man, for God. It is his refashioning to be a theatre, witness and instrument of His acts. Its subject and content, which is also its origin, makes it an active knowledge, in which there are affirmation and negation, volition and decision, action and inaction, and in which man leaves certain old courses and enters and pursues new ones.

Illumination, we find out, is a sovereign act of God (in the gospel) in bringing new creation. It plays an important role for God in making his children’s lives into a theater, a witness, and an instrument for his own glory and use.

Here we discover one of the profoundest purposes for Christian literacy.

God Is For Me

I treasure the for me/for us phrases in Psalm 56:9/Romans 8:31. It is a majestic thought that the holy God of the universe can be for me/for us. It is a divine reality so startling that we can only explain this favor as a gift of grace. It should drive from us all vain thoughts of spiritual superiority.

In my reading over the years I’ve gathered a small collection of quotes to help me meditate on this amazing truth. Here are three examples:

John Piper, sermon, “God Did Not Spare His Own Son,” August 18, 2002:

O how precious are those two words, “for us” [Rom. 8:31]. There are no more fearful words in the universe than the words, “God is against us.” … We live forever with God against us or with God for us. And all who are in Christ may say with almost unspeakable joy, “God is for us.” He is on our side.

Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, IV/2 728:

What can and should and must be done by the man to whom the Creator and Lord of heaven and earth has stopped down from his eternal and inaccessible majesty in inconceivable goodness and overflowing majesty to take man to Himself by taking his place and bearing his curse and burden? What can and should and must be done by the man to whom it is given in the quickening power of the Holy Spirit to accept the fact that God is for him in this way? What remains for the Christian to do? What is his part? Or rather, what is he allowed and commissioned and commanded to do? Since this is the case, and he knows it, in what consists his Christian freedom? There can obviously be only one answer to this question. This is the simple and unequivocal answer that he must accept and receive the One who comes to him and that which is given in and by Him; that he must be content in unconditional and childlike confidence to hold to the fact that God is for him; that he must acknowledge and recognize and confess this; that he must place himself on this ground and walk on it without hesitation or vacillation; that he must be satisfied and rejoice and constantly return to the fact that he may be undeservedly but quite indisputably be the child of God.

C. H. Spurgeon, Morning and Evening, evening of July 13:

It is impossible for any human speech to express the full meaning of this delightful phrase, “God is for me” [Ps 56:9]. He was “for us” before the worlds were made; he was “for us,” or he would not have given his well-beloved son; he was “for us” when he smote the Only-begotten, and laid the full weight of his wrath upon him—he was “for us,” though he was against him; he was “for us,” when we were ruined in the fall—he loved us notwithstanding all; he was “for us,” when we were rebels against him, and with a high hand were bidding him defiance; he was “for us,” or he would not have brought us humbly to seek his face. He has been “for us” in many struggles; we have been summoned to encounter hosts of dangers; we have been assailed by temptations from without and within—how could we have remained unharmed to this hour if he had not been “for us”?

He is “for us,” with all the infinity of his being; with all the omnipotence of his love; with all the infallibility of his wisdom; arrayed in all his divine attributes, he is “for us,”—eternally and immutably “for us”; “for us” when yon blue skies shall be rolled up like a worn out vesture; “for us” throughout eternity. And because he is “for us,” the voice of prayer will always ensure his help. “When I cry unto thee, then shall mine enemies be turned back.” This is no uncertain hope, but a well grounded assurance—“this I know.” I will direct my prayer unto thee, and will look up for the answer, assured that it will come, and that mine enemies shall be defeated, “for God is for me.” O believer, how happy art thou with the King of kings on thy side! How safe with such a Protector! How sure thy cause pleaded by such an Advocate! If God be for thee, who can be against thee?

Karl Barth: The Wickedness of “Morally Average”

Theologian Karl Barth [1886-1968] was a bright Swiss chap with much to say. The oldest son of a Reformed pastor, Barth was soaked in the Reformed faith throughout his life and with the writings of Calvin and Luther. It was Barth’s approach to theology—his firm belief that God’s Word alone, and not human reason, as the basis for theology—that propelled him into conflict with theological liberals.

In 1919, a time when theological liberalism was thriving, Barth published a commentary on Romans emphasizing the transcendence of God, the radical differences between God and man. The book landed on the contemporary theological liberalists like a bombshell (to use an appropriate, but overworked, war image). Barth found himself to be a spokesman for conservative theology which I assume helped launch what became a prolific writing career that includes one series of books [Church Dogmatics] that sprawls to a length of 6 million words!

But Barth was also neo-orthodox in his theology, which means a lot of what flew off the tip of his pen includes wild and un-Reformed views on a host of subjects too lengthy for this blog post. And because you’ve already paused from reading to investigate which Barth books are carried by Amazon, let me sound a caution. Anyone interested in reading Barth should (1) understand Barth’s theological mistakes before attempting to sift for his theological and exegetical gold (which there are). And (2) ask your local church pastor to see if he is familiar with Barth and what he would specifically recommend for reading (if anything). If you try and read Barth without (1) background discernment and (2) wise direction, you will become easily confused and wander down some theologically treacherous paths.

Let me be clear: I don’t recommend reading Barth. The proverbial baby has dissolved into the bathwater. And there are less expensive and more useful men like Calvin, Edwards, Bunyan, and Bavinck to invest your time and attention into. But what I am seeking to convey today is a specific glimpse into Barth’s Christological interpretation of theology, which is taken a bit far at times but interwoven into occasionally insightful, fresh, and helpful points (much like his writing in general).

The Morally Perfect Man vs. the Morally Average Man

One section in Church Dogmatics I have found beneficial is titled “The Sloth and Misery of Man” (vol. IV.2, pp. 378-498). In this section on defining the sinfulness of man, Barth reminds us that Christ is the incarnate Word, which makes Him the incarnate Law. The point being that Christ’s coming to earth was significant not merely for him to live and die for the salvation of man (which is primary) but also significant as the enfleshed God as the perfect contrast to sinful man.

Let me say it another way. We may, like the Pharisee, compare our moral goodness to other humans and decide we are above the average man (Luke 18:9-14). But this would be a false gauge because the One perfect Man has come. Because of Christ’s glorious perfections, his incarnate arrival on earth brings perfect man alongside non-perfect man as a living comparison. This fact reinterprets our concept of “the morally average man” to really be (in God’s divine perspective) a wicked sinner opposed to Christ.

Among a world of creatures bent on comparing ourselves and the worst sinners, Christ’s incarnation makes the “average man” a depraved sinner and really creates a world (in comparison to Himself) where “there are no outstanding villains, no titans of iniquity,” but all are somewhere about average (p. 390). Unlike the Pharisee, we can no longer compare our morality to other sinners to seek comfort in above-average morality. Like the tax collector, we can only compare ourselves to God and we are broken. Christ is the new moral standard. The perfect One has come and lived among us and we have seen his glory. Therefore all of us—slightly above or slightly below average morality—are all horridly wicked.

This uncovers, or so it seems to me, the heart of Barth’s argument in “The Sloth and Misery of Man”.

Which brings me to a small excerpt I wanted to share with you today. Read this quote in light of the theological liberalism he faced and that lives on today where the stress rests heavily upon moral conformity to the life of Christ as the center of Christianity. I suppose one illustration could be the widespread fascination of the WWJD theme that appears to have been pursued (at least by some) as license to shift the center of Christianity as following the moral example of Christ as opposed to focusing on the finished work of Christ.

Should we live hard for Christ-like holiness? Yes! But may we first realize what Christ’s actions say to our own moral failure.

Now, over to Barth:

“Between us men it is not the case that the one encounters God in the other. It may well be that we mutually attest God, and therefore the fact that we are compared with Him and shamed by Him. It may well be that we can and must lead one another to shame before Him. But none of us is confronted with God Himself, or shamed by Him, in the existence of another man. This takes place only, but genuinely, in the existence of the true man in Jesus, the Son of God. It is in relation to Him—and we all stand in relation to Him—that there is the comparison with a man which is also our comparison with the holy God. And in this comparison with His of our actions and achievements, our possibilities and actualizations, the true expression of that which is within us, and the inwardness of that which we express, our whole whence and whither, the root and crown of our existence, we are genuinely shamed.

We are shamed because our own human essence meets us in Him in a form in which it completely surpasses and transcends the form which we give it. In Him we are not encountered by an angel, or a being which is superior and alien to our own nature, so that it is easy to excuse ourselves if we fail to measure up to it. We are confronted by a man like ourselves, with whom we are quite comparable. But we are confronted by a man in the clear exaltation of our nature to its truth, in the fulfillment of its determination, in the correspondence to the election and creation of man. We are confronted by the man who is with and for God as God is with Him, at peace with God and therefore with His fellows and Himself. But this means that we are all asked by Him who and what we ought to be as His brothers.

What about human life as we live it? What about our thinking and willing and speaking and acting? What about our heart and actions? What about the use we make of our existence, of the time which is given us, of our own distinctive opportunity both as a whole and in detail? What about our coming and going? What about our motives and restraints, our plans and attainments? What about the ordering of our relationship to God and our neighbors and ourselves? And finally and comprehensively, what about our life-act as God’s good creatures within the cosmos of God’s good creation? If we had the freedom to orientate and measure ourselves by other men, or by an abstraction that we regard as God, or by a law invented and established by ourselves, it might well be possible to acquit ourselves creditably, or not too discreditably, in face of these questions.

But we do not have this freedom. We can only imagine that we have it.

The measure by which we are measured is the true man in whom the true God meets us concretely in a living encounter. Compared with Him we stand there in all our corruption. The failure of all that we have and do is revealed. The lost state of our humanity is exposed. Our holiness, however great or small, drops away. Our brilliance is extinguished, our boasting reduced to futility, our pride deprived of its object. The untruth in which we are men is disclosed. The need in which God has accepted us in His Son, and which consists in the untruth of our humanity, is incontestable. This is our actual shaming, whether we see it or not, whether we are ashamed of ourselves or not. We stand there as those who are shamed in this way, in this shame, because and as the man Jesus is among us.”

-Karl Barth,
Church Dogmatics: The Doctrine of Reconciliation (T&T Clark, 1958 ) vol. IV.2, p. 386-387.

This sobering insight has helped refocus my interpretation of the life of Christ. When I see His compassion for the lost, I am reminded of the hardness of my own heart at all of the lost souls I ignore. When I see the healing love of Christ given to the sick, I see my own neglect of the sick. In His genuine love for others I see my selfish pride. In His reverence, I see my flippancy. In His contentment with a stone pillow, I see my irritability when stabbed in cheek by the feather in mine.

If we see this side of Christ’s perfections in the Gospel stories we will be protected from the error of making an emulation of Christ’s moral example the center of Christianity.

The Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14). As we read and study the person and activity of Christ presented in the Gospel accounts, we should be reminded that Christ’s perfect life, perfect love, perfect obedience is not merely a model for us, but the Law in living flesh. Christ is the gold standard placed beside our dunghill.

Seeing the works and life of Christ from this angle …

(1) … gives us a fresh appreciation for our personal sinfulness.
Before we jump to the conclusion that a story in the Gospels is intended for moral emulation, let’s first stop and interrogate off the contrast: “What does this reveal about me and my sinful heart?”

(2) … fills our hearts with thankfulness for what Christ has accomplished as our atoning sacrifice on the cross of Christ! What better way to go from the healing love of Christ extended to bleeding woman to my need for the Savior’s blood?

(3) … grants us eyes to discern theological liberalism (an enduring struggle for the church). Christ’s moral example first condemns us before it beckons emulation.

(4) … reminds us that our kind, morally average neighbors desperately need the gospel. I’ve always found it difficult to share the gospel with nice people who seem morally average, and easier to share the gospel with those I know have dark sin issues.

I could add some more lines—and Barth could add some more books—on the topic. But it’s good place to stop, reflect on the amazing morality on display in the life of Christ, and be reminded of amazing grace—how sweet the sound!—that saved a morally-average sloth like me!

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