EDITORS' PREFACE
IT was in 1936 that Professor Thomson's translation of this half-volume of Karl Barth's Church Dogmatics first appeared. In introducing this new translation, our first word must be one of deep gratitude for what he did. It is only now in the completion of the English edition of the Church Dogmatics that we are able properly to appreciate the arduous intellectual as well as linguistic work he had to put in, at that early stage, in breaking into Barth's thought and finding a way of giving it intelligible articulation in English. Without his pioneering work the translation of the succeeding volumes would have been much more difficult and rather less successful. Meantime some 14,000 copies of Thomson's translation have been printed, and their distribution all over the world, not only in English-speaking countries, has done yeoman service in introducing many generations of students and readers to the work which more than any other has changed the direction of the history of theology. The fact that the continued demand for this, and the subsequent volumes, in English, does not abate, belies the ever-recurring rumours (evidently spread by wishful thinking reactionaries!) that Barth's influence is on the wane, and argues rather that modern theology is aware that, far from by-passing Barth, or even passing through him, it has yet to catch up on him. This increasing interest in Barth's dogmatics is also apparent in the persistent demand for a fresh translation of this half-volume, made in the light of the rest and making the English edition of the Church Dogmatics uniform throughout. Now that it has been completed the Index Volume will follow shortly. Readers are referred to the Editors' Preface to Church Dogmatics I, 2, for some indication of the difficulties that are posed for translation into English by Barth's characteristic forms of thought as well as by his distinctive German style. Several points of special relevance to this work, however, may be mentioned here. In his discussion of the scientific character of dogmatics, Barth's language clearly reflects the logic and philosophy of science which he encountered in the 1920s, not least through his friend Heinrich Scholz whom he invited to join him in the crucial seminars he held in Bonn in 1930 for the elucidation of the theological method of St. Anselm. His use of technical terms, however, was distinctive, in line with his refusal to divorce form from material content, and his determination to develop the scientific character of dogmatics on its own proper ground. Care has been taken to render his thought as accurately as possible in English, but readers are warned not to interpret his terms (e.g. “analytic”) simply out of their knowledge of current linguistic philosophy but to look to their actual use. It may help to note that Barth reacted strongly against the nominalist and conventionalist tendencies of this philosophy even as represented by Heinrich Scholz himself. Two terms in particular have given us a lot of thought, Gegenstand and Seinsweise. Quite often the best English rendering of Gegenstand would be “subject” rather than “object,” but since this lays itself open again and again to serious ambiguity in English, we have kept consistently to the rendering “object,” while making it evident that this cannot be taken in an “objectifying” sense. In regard to Seinsweise Karl Barth himself once agreed with us that “way of being” might be a better rendering in English than “mode of being,” if only to avoid any hint of “modalism,” which he completely rejects. Yet his intention here to refer back to the Cappadocian ß and the modus entis of Protestant Orthodoxy made it evident that it would be best to preserve the rendering “mode of being” adopted by Thomson. In any case, “way of being” appears in some contexts to detract from Barth's determination to move behind an “economic” to an “immanent” (i.e. an ontological) Trinity. The lasting significance of this work can be indicated briefly by drawing attention to two of its main features. (1) In it Barth seeks to ground theology as rigorously as possible upon the mutual relation of God and man actualised by divine grace in the being of the Church. At the same time his intention is both to deliver theology from its persistent tendency to become reduced to some form of anthropology, and also to establish the freedom and rationality of the human subject in the creative address of God through his Word. Much of the small print in the Introduction and in the first chapter represents Barth's attempt to establish this position through arguments on two fronts, with Modernistic Protestantism and with Mediaeval Roman Catholicism, each of which, he claims, in its own way wrongly subordinates the knowledge of God to an antecedent and independently grounded system of thought. (2) In it Barth seeks to direct modern theology back to its patristic foundations in the dogma of the Holy Trinity, and to show that the root of the Church's understanding of the Trinity of God is to be found in God's revelation of Himself as the Lord. He consistently attacks the split that developed in Roman Catholic and Protestant theology alike between the being and the activity of God, whether in creation or in redemption, which led to the fatal rift in the basic concept of God evident both in the division between an independent natural theology and revealed theology and also in the separation between the treatise on the one God and the treatise on the Triune God. Far from being a mere inference or a deduction from a “more basic” position, the doctrine of the Trinity itself belongs to the very basis of the Christian faith and constitutes the fundamental grammar of dogmatic theology. At this point at least, Karl Barth has been followed by some of the most eminent dogmatic theologians, not least in the Roman Catholic Church. In introducing his translation of this work Professor G. T. Thomson claimed that it was “undoubtedly the greatest treatise on the Trinity since the Reformation,” but when it is studied in connexion with volume two on the doctrine of God, the claim may well be made that it is the greatest treatise of the kind since the De Trinitate of St. Augustine. The Editors wish to express their thanks to Mr. Richard H. Roberts, of New College, Edinburgh, in assisting them with the proofs, and above all to the Publishers and the Printers for their continued patience and courtesy in making this new edition available in English.
Pasadena and Edinburgh, Trinity 1973.
PREFACE
HUMAN affairs—even those over which we think we have some control—often take a different course from the one planned. Hominum confusione? Dei providentia? No doubt the latter too and decisively, and yet in such a way that on the human side everything is primarily and per se confusio, many plans being not carried out at all, or carried out in a way which is very different from that envisaged. When five years ago I published The Doctrine of the Word of God as the first volume of a Christian Dogmatics in Outline, I had many serviceable materials to hand and thought that I should and could finish the promised whole within the time which has now elapsed. Things turned out differently. When the first volume was before me in print, it showed me plainly—whatever may be the experience of others, much more plainly than a manuscript lying in a cupboard could ever have done—how much I myself have still to learn both historically and materially. The opposition which it encountered at least amongst colleagues was too general and vehement, the intervening changes in the theological, ecclesiastical and general situation gave me so much to think about, and the need for my little work on Anselm of Canterbury was so pressing, that I could not pay any attention to the gradually increasing chorus of friendly or ironical enquiries as to what had happened to the second volume, nor even think of continuing on the level and in the strain of the initial volume of 1927. This first became clear to me, of course, when the four thousand copies of the first edition of what had been published as the first volume began to run out, and I was faced with the task of preparing a second edition. My experience of twelve years ago in re-editing the Römerbrief was repeated. I could still say what I had said. I wished to do so. But I could not do it in the same way. What option had I but to begin again at the beginning, saying the same thing, but in a very different way? Hence I must gratify or perhaps in part annoy my readers by giving them a revision of the old book instead of the expected new one. May some at least believe that from my own standpoint at any rate this change of plan has been forced on me by the pressure of outer and inner necessities! And may it be clear to some at least that there are good reasons for this unusual arrest or change of direction! The alteration which I have made consists first and formally in the fact that I have thought it good to make my exposition much more explicit. This emerges at once in the relationship between the size of the book and the material covered. The book is much larger, and it has been severely compressed in places, but it covers only half the material treated in the first edition, and is thus only a half-volume. But what else can I do? In the last five years all the problems have assumed for me a far richer, more fluid and difficult aspect. I have had to make more extensive soundings and lay broader foundations. And yet I venture to hope that the result has been to make everything simpler and clearer. The external growth of the book is also connected with my desire to give more space to an indication of the biblico-theological presuppositions and the historico-dogmatic and polemical relations of my statements. I have condensed all these things into the interposed sections in small print, and have so arranged the dogmatic presentation that non-theologians especially may read connectedly even though they skip these small print sections. Do I have to ask gourmet theologians not to read these sections alone? At a pinch, though only at a pinch, the text can be understood without them, but not vice versa. If for the most part I have reproduced in extenso passages adduced from the Bible, the fathers and theologians, this has not merely been for the sake of the many who do not have ready access to the originals, but in order that all readers may have the opportunity, more directly than would be possible by mere references, to hear the voices which were in my own ears as I prepared my own text, which guided, taught, or stimulated me, and by which I wish to be measured by my readers. I never imagine that these voices said exactly what I say, but I do suggest that what has to be said and heard in dogmatics to- day is better understood, and in the last resort can only be understood, if we join in listening to these voices so far as concerns the Bible passages, i.e., the basic text upon which all the rest and everything of our own can only wait and comment. If there are those who think they miss the citation of an authority which they think important, they should consider that dogmatics follows a different principle of selection from that which obtains in historical presentation in the narrower sense. Hence I have not followed up systematically the counter-theses implicitly or explicitly contested by me, not even those of my special and direct adversaries and critics of the day, but have pursued my own course, taking up theses which have made some kind of impression on me, and doing so at the point where it seems that they materially serve to advance or at any rate to clarify the problems. The facts as to the change in content between the first and this second edition, the reader may gather from the book itself. I may content myself here with some general observations. In substituting the word Church for Christian in the title, I have tried to set a good example of restraint in the lighthearted use of the great word “Christian” against which I have protested. But materially I have also tried to show that from the very outset dogmatics is not a free science. It is bound to the sphere of the Church, where alone it is possible and meaningful. As laments have accompanied the general course of my development, they will undoubtedly increase at this obvious alteration. But some will see what I have had in view when in recent years, and indeed even in this book, I have often had to speak with some vigour against, or rather on behalf of, the Church. Be that as it may, it will be found that in this new edition the lines are drawn more sharply in the direction indicated by this alteration. This means above all that I now think I have a better understanding of many things, including my own intentions, to the degree that in this second draft I have excluded to the very best of my ability anything that might appear to find for theology a foundation, support, or justification in philosophical existentialism. “The Word or existence?” The first edition gave to acumen, or perhaps stupidity, some ground for putting this question. I may hope that so far as concerns my own intentions the answer to it is now clear. In the former undertaking I can see only a resumption of the line which leads from Schleiermacher by way of Ritschl to Herrmann. And in any conceivable continuation along this line I can see only the plain destruction of Protestant theology and the Protestant Church. I can see no third alternative between that exploitation of the analogia entis which is legitimate only on the basis of Roman Catholicism, between the greatness and misery of a so-called natural knowledge of God in the sense of the Vaticanum, and a Protestant theology which draws from its own source, which stands on its own feet, and which is finally liberated from this secular misery. Hence I have had no option but to say No at this point. I regard the analogia entis as the invention of Antichrist, and I believe that because of it it is impossible ever to become a Roman Catholic, all other reasons for not doing so being to my mind short-sighted and trivial. To say this is to clarify my attitude to the charge which I clearly foresaw five years ago and which has been raised at once all along the line and in every possible tone from friendly concern to downright anger, namely, that historically, formally and materially I am now going the way of scholasticism. It would seem that Church history no longer begins for me in 1517. I can quote Anselm and Thomas with no sign of horror. I obviously regard the doctrine of the early Church as in some sense normative. I deal explicitly with the doctrine of the Trinity, and even with that of the Virgin Birth. The last- named alone is obviously enough to lead many contemporaries to suspect me of crypto- Catholicism. What am I to say? Shall I excuse myself by pointing out that the connexion between the Reformation and the early Church, trinitarian and christological dogma, and the very concepts of dogma and the biblical Canon, are not in the last resort malicious inventions of my own? Or shall I oppose to indignation my own indignation at the presumption which seems for its own part to regard the necessity of ignoring or denying these things, and therefore an epigonous fideism, as dogmas whose despisers are at once open to the charge of Catholicism? Or shall I ask, perhaps mentioning names, why none of the so-called positive theologians of whom there are still supposed to be several in German universities—they or their predecessors ran a fairly lively campaign for the “confession” only twenty years ago—have sprung to my assistance in this matter? Or shall I ask what or what sort of teaching they now think should be given concerning the Trinity and the Virgin Birth? Or shall I merely be astonished at the Philistinism which thinks it should bewail “speculation” when it does not recognise its own ethicism, and fails to see that not merely the most important but also the most relevant and beautiful problems in dogmatics begin at the very point where the fable of “unprofitable scholasticism” and the slogan about the “Greek thinking of the fathers” persuade us that we ought to stop? Or shall I laugh at the phonetically ridiculous talk about fides quae and fides qua by which many obviously think that they can dismiss the whole concern of scholasticism at a single stroke, promptly dealing with me at the same time? Or shall I rather bemoan the constantly increasing confusion, tedium and irrelevance of modern Protestantism, which, probably along with the Trinity and the Virgin Birth, has lost an entire third dimension—the dimension of what for once, though not confusing it with religious and moral earnestness, we may describe as mystery—with the result that it has been punished with all kinds of worthless substitutes, that it has fallen the more readily victim to such uneasy cliques and sects as High Church, German Church, Christian Community and religious Socialism, and that many of its preachers and adherents have finally learned to discover deep religious significance in the intoxication of Nordic blood and their political Führer? However right these various courses might be, I can only ignore the objection and rumour that I am catholicising, and in face of the enemy repeat the more emphatically and expressly whatever has been deplored in my book in this respect. It is precisely in relation to this disputed aspect that I am of particularly good courage and sure of my cause. A final remark may be made concerning the present theological situation. Whether in agreement or opposition this book will be the better understood the more it is conceived, as I have already said in the preface to the first edition, as standing on its own, and the less it is conceived as representing a movement, tendency, or school. In this sense, too, it aims to be a Church dogmatics. I may take it as well known that there exists between Eduard Thurneysen and myself a theological affinity which is of long standing and has always shown itself to be self-evident. Again, among theological colleagues, ministers and non-theologians I know many men and women towards whom I am conscious of being wholeheartedly sympathetic in general outlook. But this does not constitute a school, and I certainly cannot think in this emphatic way of those who are commonly associated with me as leaders or adherents of the so-called “dialectical theology.” It is only fair to them as well as to me that in its new form, too, this book should not be hailed as the dogmatics of dialectical theology. The community in and for which I have written it is that of the Church and not a community of theological endeavour. Of course, there is within the Church an Evangelical theology which is to be affirmed and a heretical non- theology which is to be resolutely denied. But I rejoice that in concreto I neither know nor have to know who stands where, so that I can serve a cause and not a party, and mark off myself from a cause and not a party, not working either for or against persons. Thus I can be free in relation to both ostensible and true neighbours, and responsible on earth only to the Church. I only wish I could make things clear to those who would like to see me walking arm in arm with X or Y. I am not unaware that to undertake a dogmatics of the Evangelical Church to-day is intrinsically, and quite apart from specific objections, to expose oneself to difficulties which I cannot easily resolve. For where is to-day the Evangelical Church which desires to be taken seriously and to confess itself in the sense of the present book? Am I not aware that in the realm of modern Protestantism the very authorities of the Church seem to have no more urgent wish than to give as little heed as possible to the doctrine of the Church? Am I not aware that even the doctrinal interest which does exist in the Church of to-day is focused on very different matters from those which are treated in this basic study? Am I not aware of the lack of connexion between what fills the heads and hearts of all to-day and what I seek to set forth as stimulating and important in these pages? Am I not aware how probable it is that from large circles of those accustomed to take notice of theological work in general the cry will arise afresh that stones are being offered here instead of bread? Yes, I am aware of all these things, and it might well discourage me to think of them. My only reply can be that I hold myself forbidden to be discouraged by thinking of them. For I believe that to the very day of judgment we shall wait in vain for an Evangelical Church which takes itself seriously unless we are prepared to attempt in all modesty to take the risk of being such a Church in our own situation and to the best of our ability. I believe that I understand the present-day authorities of the Church better than they understand themselves when I ignore their well-known resentment against what should have been their most important task, appealing from authorities badly informed to authorities which are better informed. I am firmly convinced that, especially in the broad field of politics, we cannot reach the clarifications which are necessary to-day, and on which theology might have a word to say, as indeed it ought to have, without first reaching the comprehensive clarifications in and about theology which are our present concern. I believe that it is expected of the Church and its theology—a world within the world no less than chemistry or the theatre—that it should keep precisely to the rhythm of its own relevant concerns, and thus consider well what are the real needs of the day by which its own programme should be directed. I have found by experience that in the last resort the man in the street who is so highly respected by many ecclesiastics and theologians will really take notice of us when we do not worry about what he expects of us but do what we are charged to do. I believe in fact that, quite apart from its ethical applications, a better Church dogmatics might well be finally a more significant and solid contribution even to such questions and tasks as that of German liberation than most of the well-meant stuff which even so many theologians think in dilettante fashion that they can and should supply in relation to these questions and tasks. For these reasons I hold myself forbidden to be discouraged. For these reasons I venture upon what is really a venture for me too, addressing myself in the middle of 1932 to a dogmatics, and to a dogmatics of such compass. I could not refrain from saying this in indication of the fact that I have been affected by the many jesting or serious comments made upon it. At the publishers' desire I willingly, but without obligation, tell my readers how I hope to continue after the beginning made with this half-volume. First, in a second half-volume of what will I suppose be much the same size I plan to conclude the Prolegomena to Dogmatics. As in the first edition, this will be devoted to the finishing of the doctrine of revelation and then to the doctrine of Holy Scripture and the proclamation of the Church. The second volume should contain the doctrine of God, the third the doctrine of creation, the fourth the doctrine of reconciliation and the fifth the doctrine of redemption. What is called ethics I regard as the doctrine of the command of God. Hence I do not think it right to treat it otherwise than as an integral part of dogmatics, or to produce a dogmatics which does not include it. In this dogmatics the concept of the command of God in general will be treated at the close of the doctrine of God. The command of God from the standpoint of order will then be discussed at the close of the doctrine of creation, from the standpoint of law at the close of the doctrine of reconciliation, and from the standpoint of promise at the close of the doctrine of redemption. I need not say that I shall have to have many years to carry out the plan as now envisaged. And all sensible people will realise that in a matter of such wide prospect I cannot commit myself by detailed pronouncements in the light of my preliminary work, but must ask them to believe, on the basis of the indications given, that I do at least know what I am after. “If the Lord will, and we live” (Jas. 415).
Bergli, Oberrieden (Canton Zürich) August, 1932.