The Viability of God Talk within the Milieu of the Secular City

Given the current emphasis on the term (or title) Lord, Avery Dulles’ reflections in The Assurance of Things Hoped For may be of relevance:

Faith is a religious act.  It involves an adoring submission of one’s whole self to God as supreme lord of all things.  In faith I abandon the self-centeredness of my normal vision and consent to look at reality from God's perspective.  I transfer my concern from narrow self-interest to the God on whom I depend and who is to be unconditionally esteemed, trusted, and loved for his own sake.  The intrinsic motive of faith, the ‘authority’ of God, is God himself in his wisdom, truthfulness, holiness power, and fidelity. These divine attributes, though conceptually distinct, are all identical in God (p. 275).

In the important work of coming to term with modernity many of the more liberal Protestant denominations and theologians sacrificed at least to some degree the clarity and power of this fundamental faith act.  In reading through Dulles I get the impression that on the whole, Vatican I & II did a better job than Protestantism of grappling with the intellectual premises of modernity as well as that of inter-religious dialogue, while maintaining the radical particularity that in Christ the fullness of God’s revelation to humankind has been given once and for all even as there are always new insights to be gleaned from this core revelation.

To be sure this religious act is a matter of faith all the way down which cannot be proven by human reason, logic, or evidence.  Nonetheless, these can, and need to be helpful, for without signs it would be very difficult to see, even in a glass darkly.  Even still such faith viewed exclusively through secular channels might readily be viewed as absurd, or more charitably as obscurantist. 

In seeking to come to terms with modernity, liberal Protestantism at its worst accepted too readily the underlying assumptions of secular intellectualism, particularly a diminishing of the radicality of God as transcendent Other over and above anything that can be conceived in the natural world or in the realms of our inner and social experiences.  Thus, one might say that the notion of God was repressed from 20th century intellectual history and philosophy as a manifestation of a broader “death of God” phenomenon, particularly in Europe and less so in the US, notwithstanding persistent strains of fundamentalism as well as evangelical resurgences throughout the century.

At its best the effort to come to terms with modernity is indispensable, if there is going to be a credible apologetic aspect to the faith at all, not only in response to overt unbelief (and therefore to the culture at large), but in response to the multiplicity of identities among many who are overtly Christian (like many of us?) in their (our) various constructions of reality which are anything but purely Christian.  Perhaps I might suggest that at least in Protestant circles that apologetic work has barely begun to take place outside the realms, say, of Paul Tillich, Reinhold Niebuhr, and Langdon Gilkey.  One might also place Walter Brueggemann in this apologetic category in his “funding” of postmodernity in the compelling breakthrough of the kairotc moment through the imaginative stimulus of the Holy Spirit.  Such apologoteic theology is indispensable if such fundamental religious acts of claiming Christ as Lord and Savior are going to mediate in ways that are compelling.

There is a broad range of problems linked to the liberal (post or otherwise) or neo-orthodox solution.  Might we see as a next step a thick reformed-grounded evangelic apologetic that does not merely collapse into dogmatics, but confronts the intellectual premises of modernity and postmodernity on their own terms while maintaining a distinctively Christian perspective?  Donald Bloesch and Gabriel Fackreand George Hunsinger, UCC centrist stalwarts, have done substantial work in this arena. I suppose one could argue that Barth’s turn to dogmatics was also a subtle form of apologetics by indirection, but a fuller apologetic effort may be needed, such as that as exhibited by Jurgen Moltmann, if the religious act of faith is going to be viewed as credible by more than a remnant.  

I don’t disagree that the more fundamental work may still be the need to sharpen a subtle dogmatic project right in the heartland of the UCC denomination and its supporting seminaries.  In fact, I think it’s essential. Let that work go forth! On Bloesch, on Fackre, on Brueggemann, too!  Still given the pervasive cultural and religious pluralism of our times along with a profound agnosticism in the heartland of the “thinking” middle class and contemporary intellectuals, perhaps there is a need to move beyond Karl Barth’s dogmatics (while drinking richly from his wells) and incorporate richer apologetic work in the very creation of a more subtle articulation of faith.  On that score, perhaps Dulles may have a point or two in Ch 11 in The Assurance of Things Hoped For, titled “Properties of Faith.”  In that chapter, Dulles points to five key properties:  “supernaturality, freedom, certitude and doubt, and obscurity.”  For Dulles, faith is primary, but it is faith in search of knowledge amidst the dynamic tension of certitude and doubt within the context of the ultimate obscurity of the mystery of God, given the fathomless range of His Kingdom and the inherently limited and flawed nature of our own understanding and will.  The gap between what we seek and what we possess is itself fathomless, though we press toward the mark in the midst of our groaning and travail, and in the process are occasionally given the light of the beautific vision of Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior of human history. 

introduction to Discussion of In Quest of a Vital Protestant Center on the Confessing Christ Lisrserv

Gabriel Fackre’s work loomed large in the conceptualization of In Quest of a Vital Protestant Center even as from the beginning of my Christian walk (1972) I have consistently taken a comprehensive approach.  Early on I had read and agreed much with Horace Bushnell's 1848 essay, “Christian Comprehensiveness,” which I view as having much contemporary relevance.  As a result of what I can only describe as a most authentic born again experience, I linked up with the Pentecostals in 1974, which was my entry into evangelical thought and culture (obviously, there was a big piece missing, namely the Reformed perspective, which I didn't begin to grasp till decades later).  I appreciated very much the Pentecostal emphasis on the Holy Spirit as well as on the Bible, but never seriously took in their dispensationalist theology, their literal interpretation of the Bible, their interpretation of evolution and geology, and social and political conservatism. My stock line was that I take the Bible most seriously, but not necessarily literally, especially where it did not apply; namely science and history. In my role as a Campus Minister Associate, while in graduate school, I led student groups that consisted both of mainline Protestant and evangelical/Pentecostal members.  

I typically sided with the evangelicals on basic issues related to the centralities of the Grand Tradition, while veering toward the mainliners in terms of temperament, the rejection of an inerrant biblical hermeneutics, which I felt went beyond what the various writers of the Bible attest to, and in my understanding of the difference between history and theology, and my appreciation for evolutionary science. My book is a distillation of such issues in an effort to carry on this evangelical/mainline dialogue in a more formal, scholarly manner, in a way also, that contains significant aspects of my own evolving spiritual odyssey.

In terms of comparisons, beginning with Ch. 4 on Bloesch, I open each chapter with a comparison of that person and the author in the previous chapter; in Ch. 4 on Bloesch and Packer.  Ch. 5 opens with a brief comparison between Bloesch and Fackre, where I speak of Fackre's greater willingness to embrace a hermeneutics of suspicion and greater swaths of theological liberalism even if, ultimately, only through the distanced voice “critic-in-residence.”  This is followed by a section titled, “Fackre's Theology in Brief.” Both of these introductory sections were designed to prepare the reader to launch into the more extended and substantive aspects of Gabe's theology of Scripture and narrative theology of God.  Ch 6 opens with an extended comparison between Fackre and Brueggemann that included commentary on the biblical theology of Brevard Childs.  I titled this introductory section, “Brueggemann and Fackre Compared: Narrative Theologians in Divergent Veins.” A major difference is the contrast between Brueggemann's “angular” reading of particular texts contrasted to Fackre's emphasis on the ultimate harmonization and importance of the entire Scripture.

I would encourage those working out of UCC perspectives to look closely at the chapters on Bloesch, Fackre, and Brueggemann, who, respectively, represent the conservative, centrist, and moderate liberal wings of the denomination, and in a more general sense, the mainline Protestant perspective.  I would hope that chapter 7, on neo-orthodoxy, would also be of interest to those influenced by traditional mainline theological perspectives, where the collective impact of Barth, Tillich, Bonhoeffer, and the Niebuhr brothers, at least, at one point in time, loomed so large.  In addition to the original neo-orthodox writers, I also drew on Douglas Hall's Remembered Voices: Reclaiming the Legacy of "Neo-Orthodoxy" and Gary Dorrien's, The Barthian Revolt in Modern Theology.   While there are various reasons why contemporary evangelicals and mainline Protestants would marginalize or outright reject the significance of the neo-orthodox perspective, in my view, there are valid reasons—not the least of which is the recent Barthian revival and the enduring significance of Bonhoeffer—for viewing it as an important theological thread in constructing a vital center.

Inerrancy, Hermeutics, and the Complexity of Biblical Interpretation

There is much that warrants sustained commentary in current discussions on biblical interpretation.  Of particular importance is that of grappling with underlying presuppositions of the various positions surrounding this issue. Among other considerations, the diversity of genres within the Bible and the role of progressive interpretation within the flow of the biblical grand narrative—that within the framework of its story, begun at creation (well before a single word of text was written) and extending echatalogically beyond our located time in history, as well as our location within that flow between the first and final coming of Christ—need to be factored into current discussions. I can only offer few points here.

There is an important interpretive stream in biblical theology that contends that God's holy Word is inscripturated within the biblical text. There is another important stream that the Word of God can be accessed through the text which becomes available to receptive and faithful readers through various means of revelation. That the original biblical writers, from their distinctive perspectives, were inspired by God, in which what they wrote was stimulated by God's spirit within them, even as what they perceived was invariably processed by the various historical conditions and natural limitations in which they wrote and received as inspiration.  

1. In this respect, one could say that God, through the Holy Spirit is the ultimate author of Scripture, while granting that any temporal hermeneutics is (or has been) processed through an array of interpretive filters, which can be, and typically are, fallible in various significant and not so significant ways. With such limitations in mind, one might say that the Spirit of God is embedded in the text regardless of contemporary reception. That is, in contrast to certain postmodern readings, there is meaning (that is, authorial intent) in the text, as such, even as such Authorial intent needs to be filtered through the authorial intent and time and culture bound limited knowledge base of the various biblical writers.
2. The Word of God is also mediated through the Bible, with more of an accent here on reception by interpretive communities through which the Bible, in its canonical integrity, uniquely conveys the Word of God in a manner that was not possible for other texts.   

Consequently, through this text (both in terms of particular passages, as well as through the flow of the Grand Narrative, with the emphasis on Christ as the interpretive center of the Bible), I receive the Word of God afresh as it is revealed to me in the various fallible ways that I perceive it.  Yet, given point 1, without the meaning of the text, as such, I only have a subjective basis, in which truth statements cannot be made about the Bible or revelation, itself, because there is nothing beyond the reader-based given of a potentially infinite array of perspectives.

 To put this in terms to which I have elsewhere referred, the biblical revelation as the Word of God, as referenced in both points 1 and 2, is grounded in an ontological truth claim that can only be processed through the prism of limited epistemological filters.  Though we see Jesus, we do so through a glass darkly.  I contend that acknowledging both sides of the epistemological/ ontological continuum is critical to a well-grounded faith and to a faithful biblical hermeneutics.

 Consider 2 Timothy 3:16:  "All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching and reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness (ESV).

• All Scripture.  For the author of Timothy that meant the OT.  For us, that means both testaments, in which the revelation of Christ is the central reference point for all valid interpretations. To take one extreme example, the role of violence in the OT is a complex manner, one that I cannot enter into here.  Regardless as to whether it is persuasive, Walter Brueggemann (clearly no inerrant interpreter of the Bible) addresses this issue here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zl0hK3ZTVyc  and here http://www.amazon.com/Divine-Presence-amid-Violence-Contextualizing/dp/160608089X

• Is breathed (is inspired) by God.  This is not synonymous with an inerrant interpretation; only that all Scripture, as the primary source of Christian revelation, is uniquely inspired both in its textual formation and in its receptive capacity in a uniquely different way than other texts.

• Profitable for....  I believe this speaks to the potential value of the biblical texts as a primary source of edification in all of the ways identifies by the epistle writer and more.  That is, all Scripture holds the potential for such edification in a uniquely revealing way distinct from other sources.

I agree that, as a formal doctrine, inerrancy is a modern product, grounded in the culture wars between modernism and fundamentalism in the late 19th and early 20th centuries—a culture conflict that continues to carry a good deal of resonance in contemporary US Protestant theology, biblical interpretation and religious culture.  I do not reject the notion that prior to the late 19th century there was nothing analogous, which gave to Scripture a central interpretive role grounded in authoritative truth claims.   However, different epistemologies were at work in different eras of church history that shaped how such claims were made, which matter significantly on how "literalistic" one may be about the meaning of such claims.

Early in his career, J. I. Packer was willing to forgo the concept of the term, inerrancy because he felt it interfered with the more important truth claim that “Scripture has complete and final authority over the Church, as a self-contained, self-interpreting revelation from God.”  He argued that the primary evangelical aim was to proclaim, “What Scripture says, God says; and what God says in the Scripture is to be the rule of faith and life in His Church” (“Fundamentalism” and the Word of God, p. 73).  Packer viewed this as an axiomatic principle, which still left room for considerable hermeneutical nuance. From his vantage point, biblical interpretation remains an unfinished process in which the revelation of God in and through Scripture can only be ultimately grasped doxologically as an article of faith, in which Scripture as a primary source of our embedded knowledge of God is an aspect of the mystery of God's revelation to humankind.

Packer builds on these premises in his collection of essays titled, Engaging the Written Word of God, to establish one of the most astute evangelical biblical hermeneutics of the mid and late 20th century. I do not argue that Packer has the last word on this, but that his is an important perspective where he tackles the issues surrounding inerrancy head on.  I encourage those who are invested in this issue, regardless as to where specifically they stand, to give his work a close look.  I maintain that there are a multitude of riches embedded in Engaging the Written Word of God that will repay the diligent reader much in terms of his or her time http://www.amazon.com/Engaging-Written-Word-God-Packer/dp/1598569619. 

Reflections on the Relationship between Donald Bloesch’s Mediating Theology and His Underlying Pietistic Spirituality

In Reclaiming Pietism: Retrieving and Evangelical Tradition, Roger Olson and Christian Collin Winn provide a succinct overview of the theological and spiritual odyssey of Donald Bloesch http://www.amazon.com/Reclaiming-Pietism-Retrieving-Evangelical-Tradition/dp/0802869092.  Specifically, they depicting something of the relationship between his theology and his persisting quest for an intense spirituality grounded in the pietistic legacy of his early years—a legacy that remained a central touchstone throughout long and fruitful life (pp. 161-166).  As Olson puts it in one of his blog postings: “Bloesch’s approach to theology was basically pietistic with some neo-orthodox flavoring put in” (“Recommendation of Donald G. Bloesch’s Theology,” http://www.patheos.com/blogs/rogereolson/2010/12/recommendation-of-donald-g-bloeschs-theology/).  Given the substantial influence of Karl Barth on Bloesch’s theology, the neo-orthodox influence on him may be more pronounced than that. In any event, Olson and Winn aptly describe Bloesch as a “mediating” theologian, in which he sought a centrist “via media, particularly between” “fundamentalism and liberalism” (p. 161).  Working through such tensions in the quest for a comprehensive Christian orthodox theology, drove Bloesch’s irenic vision, particularly in his most expansive work, his seven volume Christian Foundations series https://www.ivpress.com/cgi-ivpress/author.pl/author_id=277.

The tensions are reflected in the relationship in Bloesch’s theological formation between—as someone nurtured in the pietistic tradition—the liberal Chicago Theological Seminary he attended as a graduate student (where he encountered the neo-orthodoxy of Barth, Tillich and Reinhoold Niebuhr, as well as professors who embraced the early roots of what became known as “process theology”) and the more theologically conservative “Presbyterian-related University of Dubuque Seminary in Iowa” (p. 162) where he taught during most of his career. This tension was also reflected in his membership in the United Church of Christ (UCC) (a leading candidate for the most liberal Christian denomination in the U.S.) and his founding role in the Biblical Witness Fellowship, a conservative confessing movement within the UCC sharply opposed to the denomination’s leadership liberal leanings.

As someone rooted in the pietism of “Spener, Francke, Zinzendorf, and Christoph Blumhardt” (cited in Olson’s blog), it would be instructive learn what drew Bloesch to Chicago and to the UCC, notwithstanding his rejection of their more liberalizing tendencies in biblical interpretation, theology, and ethics. Such knowledge may remain elusive until a full scale biography of Bloesch is written. Perhaps there was some intellectual gap in his pietistic upbringing propelled by an intrinsic curiosity that drew him to a broader range of theological insights and issues that could only open up by moving outside the horizons of the pietistic heritage. 

What one can reasonably conclude is that Bloesch’s extensive engagement with neo-orthodoxy and theological liberalism played a formative role in his understanding of some of the most fundamental issues that have shaped the contours of twentieth century European and U.S. theology.  When combined with the pulsating power of the pietistic impulse that reverberated through his being through the entirety of his life, once can reasonably surmise that such engagement provided a source of motivation and a set of resources to take on the hard work of developing what ultimately became his mediating theology in the critical areas of Scripture, Christ, God, the Church, the Holy Spirit and eschatology, as depicted in the various volumes of his Christian Foundations series.

A thorough discussion of the relationship between Bloesch’s theology and his pietism would take a good deal of work well beyond what can be explored here.  One can gain a sense of it in two of his central volumes: A Theology of Word and Spirit: Authority and Method in Theology and God the Almighty: Power, Wisdom Holiness, Love.  Consider a defining passage in the first volume:

We believe the gospel because the Spirit seals the truth of the gospel in our hearts, and the truth is self-authenticating. The church helps us understand this truth in the context of the fellowship of love, but it is not the source or origin of this truth (p. 188).

In the second text, Bloesch identifies “God’s love and holiness as constitute[ing] the inner nature of God.”  Bloesch continues this meditation on the quintessential nature of God in the following manner:

These two perfections coalesce in such a way that we may speak of the holy love of God…and of his merciful holiness.  In the depth of God’s love is revealed the beauty of his holiness.  In the glory of his holiness is revealed the depth of his love.  The apex of God’s holiness is his love. The apex of God’s love is the beauty of his holiness.  God’s love transcends his holiness even while he infuses and upholds it.  His holiness is adorned and crowned by the magnitude of his love” (God the Almighty, p. 141).

I had some knowledge of the spiritual depth underlying Bloesch’s theology, as reflected in these passages, even, as in my research, I have concentrated on the latter aspect of his work.  Olson and Winn have presented a persuasive overview of the formative pietistic influences on the totality of Bloesch’s Christian formation.  Given Bloesch’s quest to give shape to a vital centrist theology that is both irenic and mediating, a deeper appreciation of the pietistic impulse underlying his project could provide an important resource to better understand the range and depth of his formal theological studies. An in-depth probing into some of the specific ways in which Bloesch’s spiritual quest and theological reflections intersect could contribute much toward a deepening Christian world view that is theologically comprehensive and spiritually quite rich.  Clearly, that work remains to be done.

Review of "A Fundamental Truth"

I have selected a sermon by Terri L. Hansen, titled “A Fundamental Truth: I Have Been Raised by Christ (Colossians 3:1-4)”[1]

As part of a young couple’s class, Ms. Hansen’s group chose to read and discuss Richard Foster’s highly influential text, Celebration of Disciplines, which provides practical helps to illustrate how God’s grace can be revealed in “transformative ways through the [intentional] practice of spiritual disciplines.”  Given Celebration’s inclusion of various “Catholic” spiritual practices, such as “contemplative prayer, solitude,” and confession, while also including the traditional Protestant emphasis on devotional Bible study, prayer, worship, service, and study, Hansen describes the book as an eye opener among those in “Baptistic, evangelical homes and churches.”[2] Celebration of Disciplines set Ms. Hansen on a “spiritual journey,” through which she also discovered the works of John Ortberg, James Bryan Smith, and Dallas Willard.  Along with Foster, the cited authors are (or were) part of the Renovare Institute: School of Christian Spiritual Formation http://new.renovare.org/institute/overview.  The overarching vision of the Institute is that of stimulating a pietistic sensibility across denominations and branches within contemporary Christian practice. 

Ms. Hansen draws on Colossians 3:1-4 to structure the theme of her sermon, placing the emphasis on the first verse, “You have been raised by Christ, set your hearts on things above where Christ is seated at the right hand of God” (v. 1) and the correlate, “for you died and your life is now hidden with Christ in God” (v. 3, NIV).  In amplifying her theme, and echoing Foster, she states that “we should put the formation of our souls into Christlikeness [in this life] as our number one priority.”[3]

I find the Ms. Hansen’s sermon helpful because it illuminates the strengths and as well as a few weaknesses of the Renovare Movement.  A major benefit is the opening up to the reader of the spiritual richness of the collective works of the contributing authors, who veer toward what I will call the Wesleyan pole of the Protestant theological and spiritual continuum.  Hansen references a critical insight about the Renovare theology and psychology of spirituality; namely, that while “we can’t directly impact the condition of our souls,…we can direct our heart and mind on things above.  That is, “through the practice of spiritual disciplines and activities, we indirectly [my emphasis] improve the conditions of our souls.”  This is accomplished through the spiritual disciplines like meditation, prayer, study and solitude (Foster), which results in “creat[ing] a condition in ourselves” that leads us to existentially desire “to becoming like Jesus.”[4]  

This emphasis on the power of indirection, through the grace of God, to progressively shape our character formation into the image of Christ is especially pronounced in Willard.  As he states it, “as our spiritual dimension has been formed” by the cumulative impact of everything that has influenced us, “so it also can be transformed.[5]   To elaborate, for Willard, Christian character formation emerges through intentional spiritual practices that gradually transform a diligent practitioner’s “ideas, beliefs, feelings, and habits of choice, as well as their bodily tendencies and social relations.”[6] It is through such a process that we become intentionally able, through the grace of God, to progressively put on the mind of Christ, and live in the spirit of God more and more.

As one who has read a good deal of this literature with small groups, with my wife, and on my own, I have been much edified in my Christian walk.  The works referenced by Hansen and other texts by these authors has stimulated much food for thought in helping me to connect my faith journey with some of the finest reflections and tried and true practices within the cumulative history of the Christian spiritual tradition.  Hansen provides the reader a most useful service in opening these authors to readers in her highly engaging and accessible sermon which draw the reader in.  I will continue to engage these authors—especially Willard—for some time to come in providing essential spiritual guidance and inspirational energy to my own faltering efforts.

Willard and the other Renovare writers are careful to link the practice of the spiritual disciplines to the grace of God and also to the ongoing process of sanctification while acknowledging the enduring reality of the persistence of individual and collective sin. Nonetheless, there is a tendency in this literature to downplay what I will call the Calvinist pole of the Protestant continuum, particularly on the sovereignty of God, the Lutheran emphasis on the justified sinner, the persistence of radical evil, and the tension between “the already” of Christ’s first coming and the “not yet” on his second coming” when God will be all in all (1 Cor 15:28). 

In setting our hearts on things above (Col 3:1), we are still in his world, and—I maintain—only partially not of it (John 17:14); for we live in the reality of both Romans 7 and 8 and not of 8 only.  We have died in Christ and our life is hidden in him, but this is only a first eschaton reality in which we are given the deposit of the Holy Spirit, while we wait in faith for our full identification with Christ in the final eschaton.  While “my destiny is secure” regardless of “what happens in this life,”[7] I am still affected by what happens and I still “groan” to put on the full adoption that is promised to me, but which has not become a complete reality (Romans 8:18-27).  Thus, I am concerned when Ms. Hansen says that because “we live in the Kingdom—in the very presence of Christ already[,] fear of death and dying should never enter the mind of the Christian.”[8]  Whether the problem lies more in Ms. Hansen’s interpretation of the literature or in the works themselves, I remain concerned about a tendency toward a unidirectional progressive sanctification in this life and a corresponding tendency toward a sense of security beyond the weals and woes of this life in the exuberant belief that we can radically change our identity in a manner that comes close to the full embodiment of the Spirit and mind of Christ in this life.  These concerns, notwithstanding, I have been most edified by this literature.  I encourage that it be read with a strong dose of Puritan realism.

---

[1] Terri L. Hansen, “A Fundamental Truth: I have Been Raised by Christ (Colossians 3:1-4).” The Baptist Pietist Clarion (March 2014, Vol. XII, No. 2, 5-7).

[2] Ibid., 5.

[3] Ibid., 6

[4] Ibid.

[5] Dallas Willard, Renovation of the Heart. (NavPress, 2002, 14),

[6] Ibid., 15.

[7] A Fundamental Truth,” 7.

[8] Ibid., 6

Edification

Edification is a central theme in sections 5 and 6 of Part Three (pp. 103-122) of Philip Spener’s, Pia Desidera.  Edification is a major focal point in the training of seminarians, in which the professors serve as the primary role model for aspiring students.  As an essential part—more radically put, as the most essential aspect of their seminary training—“students should have it impressed upon them that holy life is no less of consequence than diligence and study” (p. 104). Without due attention to the formation of a character based on the primacy of holiness, engraved on the heart and soul early on in one’s training, there is the very likely prospect that the desired character formation will not be readily available in one’s formal ministry.  Spener warns against self-deception in any assumption that it will be easy for the ministry student to change stripes once assuming official duties in the pulpit, “as if a deeply ingrained love of the world [does] not generally cling to people throughout their lives” (p. 107). 

Spener identifies a number of focal points, including that of carrying on “edifying conversations” (104) by both students and professors in formal areas of studies and more informal communicative settings.  He also emphasizes the importance of discernment in dealing with controversial issues; to engage in such (when necessary) in a manner that builds up rather than tears down the life of holiness and faith.  Neither polemics nor doctrinal erudition are as important as the formation of holy character.  Attention to such requires that “great care … be exercised to keep controversy within bounds,” in which the entirety of one’s “theology ought to be brought back to apostolic simplicity” (p. 110).  In contemporary terms, theologians would do well to be more irenic in constructing theological frameworks that, consistent with orthodoxy, build bridges with others rather than drawing sharp lines of demarcation, especially where they do not need to be drawn. To cite a well-known aphorism: “in essentials unity, in non-essentials liberty, in all things charity” (Cited in Olson & Winn, p. 104).

Spener also identifies, along with a sacramental approach to Bible reading, the study of devotional books as another edifying way of instilling right moral character based on the formation and ongoing exercise of holy aspirations and habits.  In addition to Arndt’s True Christianity, he identifies other similar texts such as the various works of John Tauler, the anonymous, 14^th century Theologica Germania, Thomas a Kempis’ Imitation of Christ, Luther’s Small Catechism, various works by Augustine (pp. 110-111), and other similarly inspired and inspirational texts.  Spener advocates multiple readings of such inspired texts, sifted through a devotionally-prompted heart to complement a similar reading of Scripture.  With foundations thus lain, the appropriately trained seminarians will be optimally poised to assume the pulpit and the duties of the pastorate with a sense of inner integrity and corresponding sense of assurance to nurture their congregation in the quest to live out a holy and devout faith for personal edification and missions as related to all the spheres of life.

There is enough in Pia Desidera to persuade me that Spener assumes a holistic approach to Christian character formation that takes into consideration the importance of the great doctrines of the faith (the sovereignty of God, the Trinity, the incarnation, the atonement, the mandate to spread the gospel throughout the world, and the importance of the historical church).  The quest to exude a holy and devout Christ-based character formation has been a central aspiration of mine, notwithstanding the persisting chasm between the reach and the grasp, which can seem, at times, rather pronounced.  I can also attest, on personal experience, to the importance of both systematic and devotional Bible reading and to the study of both the devotional and more formal theological literature of the saints of God throughout the ages as mutually contributing to my faith formation.  This balanced and comprehensive approach to faith formation is echoed in Pia Desidera.

My only concern with the pietistic impulse is that of making the formation of the devout heart the (or even a) central litmus test of one’s allegiance to the Christian faith.  One concern is that the persisting gap between the quest and the attainment of the desired edification of heart, soul, strength, and mind can leave one with (a) a sense of futility, given that the quest is beyond our capacity to attain; (b) a sense of illusion that one may be “closer” to Christ than one actually may be, or (c) a sense of certainty that can override the ambiguity or complexity that one may actually experience, or (d) a sense that other critical faith-based matters, such as systematic and critically-informed Bible study, theological acuity, 2000 years of church history, and the truths that are incorporated into other religions or world-views (secular and religious) are of little or no account in the complexity of seeking to live out a consistent, well-formed Christian life in the mist of our post-Christendom, pluralistic, global area. 

While much of my early Christian formation was through a distinctively born-again Pentecostal prism where pietistic experience was central—and there’s much about this formation to which I am still attracted—I place more emphasis on faith itself, which may or may not exhibit itself in specific emotional experiences. That is, I may or may not feel pietistic in any given context. This includes that of participating in the most devout worship service, in which I do not base my faith on the attainment of a given experience, however holy or devotional my experience within the worship service may seem.   Rather, I adhere to “the faith that was once for all entrusted to the saints” (Jude 3); that is the historical faith of the Christian revelation, as embodied within and throughout the New Testament and embodied within the best theological, spiritual, and ecclesiastic texts of our faith tradition.

I believe Spener and Francke would say something similar. Where I may differ is that I am not working out of a similar historical context as were they, where the pietistic impulse is, subtly or not, pitted in opposition to formal doctrine or dogma. More radically stated, I do no define the pietistic impulse as the defining litmus test of faith, however important and central it may be—a phenomenon that is more defining and central to some serious, committed Christians than others; so I believe.

Devotional Reflections

I've cut back this year on my morning devotional readings in order to concentrate with more intensity on the anchoring texts that I have selected.  The challenge for me is not so much to read more and more, but to make sure that I am truly connecting to the biblical passages and accompanying texts in a manner that enhances my appreciation of and awareness of the presence of God both in the immediacy of the reading moment and in a way that connects with the course of my daily life at work, at home, at church, in my studies and in my viewing of media.  A strength in my spiritual walk with Christ is that I almost always feel connected at some level.  A weakness is that the connection does not always feel vital, as exhibited, in part, in the difficulty I have with formal prayer, whether in solitude or in a small group setting.  One challenge this year is to strengthen my prayer life in both venues--in the interior regions of my soul and spirit and in small group settings at church.  Another is that in living out my faith with more intensity and intentionality in my daily work with homeless adults in San Diego.

Lord, I know that you are real. I know what your real presence feels like.  I know that you seek to be at the center of my life and there is much within me that seeks to place and keep you there.  I  also know there are forces within me seeking yo keep you at a distance; yet I also know that I seek almost the entirety of my existence in search of your perpetual presence in which Christ being formed and reformed within me is the purpose of my existence.  Teach me to appreciate and honor your presence. Remove thoughts and feelings which lead me to take you for granted, that lead me to not being awed by your presence.  I want to be awed.  I want to be inspired by your presence.  I want to be moved by your presence; I want to be empowered in my relationship with you.

Holy God, father, Christ, Holy Spirit, make your presence more vitally known to me and through me in a way that I can meaningfully share your presence with others, both among those within your household and among those who have not yet heard your name in a sufficiently persuasive manner for them to embrace.