The Evolution of Christmas

The meaning of Christmas has changed over the years. Instead of a dry three-page essay on the (d)evolution of Christmas, here's a simple three-point illustration.

Big Bang (1AD-ca.1700AD)
"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have life everlasting." (John 3:16)

Reptilian Age (1700AD-2000AD)
"Give some, take some. Be nice, take more."

Homo Modernicus (2000AD--?)

Not "Hot" In Swahili

It's +33 degrees Celcius in Dar es Salaam, but it's not hot. Well, not in Finnish anyway. Hot in Finnish is kuuma. Unfortunately, kuuma is also a Swahili word meaning something quite different -- it's a part of human anatomy, woman's anatomy to be more precise.

So all the Finns here say it's lämmin (warm).

To spice things up further, the Finnish No onpa kuuma! means "Wow it's hot!" But no onpa, when one says it quickly, sounds a lot the Swahili word namba which means "may I have?". Summa summarum: shouting No onpa kuuma! in public (like in a restaurant during peak hours) will raise a few eyebrows and cause a chainreaction of chuckles.

Bernhard Lohse's History of Doctrine (3 of 3)

“Who do you say that I am?”

A Short History of Christian Doctrine opened with Jesus’ famous question: “Who do you say I am?” (Mt. 16:15). In the final paragraph we return to this question:

“Thus today’s generation in the church, no less than the former generation, is faced with the task of giving through its witness in word and deed an answer to the question which the Lord once directed to the disciples, ‘Who do you say that I am?’ The answer to this question must be given in a new way. But if it proceeds from faith it will be given in unity with the faith and the confession of the fathers.” (p. 246-7.)

The Revised Edition, however, does not end here; as said, the author adds a short account of the Second Vatican Council. This accounts ends with a similar paragraph to the one quoted above. It is, in fact, nearly identical, making the slight alterations ever more visible. The reading experience ends in an approving smile.

“So the task placed before the contemporary generation of the church is not less than that of its predecessors. In word and deed it must give an answer to the question that the Lord at one time put to the disciples: ‘Who then do you say I am?’ The answer to this question must be given in new ways. But when it issues from faith, it must issue from the unity of faith and the confession of the Father.” (p. 249.)

The smile is, however, soon superseded by a thoughtful expression. One question, above all, was left unanswered.

Dogma vs. divine mystery?

It was not, indeed, the responsibility of the book to give an answer to it, although the question itself virtually leaped from the pages. At various points the relationship of dogma and divine mystery was mentioned, but not clarified.

For instance: “[T]he basic decisions of the Trinitarian controversy and the christological definitions of Chalcedon are alike in this, that in neither case was any attempt made to unravel the mystery of God. What was attempted was the reformulation and confession of the inherited faith of Christianity vis à vis the questions which had been raised.” (p. 99, italics added.) And: “[T]he ancient church with its dogmas did not want to plumb the mystery of the divine person”, but “that it meant to confess its faith with reference to certain newly raised problems” (p. 230, italics added).

It may be asked: What is the difference? Where and how does one draw the line between “confessing the faith dogmatically” and “unraveling or plumbing the mystery”? This overarching question can be broken into smaller questions: What is mystery? What does “plumbing” or “unraveling” mystery mean?

The relationship between dogma and mystery is one of the numerous questions that profoundly intrigue me and to which, pray, some light may be added during the new round of theological studies I have enter.

Bernhard Lohse's History of Doctrine (2 of 3)

Lohse's Lutheran lenses

“Augustine emphasized the element of certainty of salvation. Of course, he could not teach this in the way in which Luther did… However, in comparison with the tremendous step forward… such defects a minor” (p. 117, italics added). We are still a thousand years away from the Reformation, but already these early notes hint at what is to come.

Later, the author discusses the theological differences between Luther and Melanchthon. Luther was aware of them, yet, the author explains, “because of his magnanimous disposition, he did not take them seriously except in a few instances” (p. 183, italics added). In vain does one search for signs of premeditated irony in this judgment!

Alas, it seems that the true hero of the symphony of the history of dogma is impervious to criticism: “The advantage in choosing Luther, of course, is that one then has a theology with, in depth and integrity, is perhaps without equal in the history of the church and in the history of dogma” (p. 184, italics added). Even giants such as Augustine and Thomas Aquinas fall short “in depth and integrity”.

Lohse's anti-Catholicism

Every now and then one of the dissatisfied cords are introduced. Perhaps the most straightforward is: “All the appeals to tradition cannot alter the fact that nowhere does tradition count for less than it does in the Roman church” (p. 211). The reference is, of course, to the three new dogmas formulated by the Roman church: the immaculate conception of Mary (1854), papal infallibility (1870), and the bodily assumption of Mary (1950).

It would be very unfair to say that this is characteristic of the author, but at least as far as Roman Catholicism is concerned he occasionally fails to heed a “magnanimous disposition”. As in the following manner: “Not until the beginning of the sixth century did theologians begin to accept the idea of a bodily assumption of Mary. The leading motive in this connection was the notion that such an assumption would be ‘fitting.’” Then the pun: “On this basis, of course, a multitude of things can be proved” (p. 213).

It would have been only fair to clarify why they thought it was “fitting,” for the main reason, even if false, was (and is) not an arbitrary one. If, as the Roman Catholics believe, Mary was indeed vouchsafed from original sin and its effects on the basis of her son’s merits, Mary ought not to have suffered a bodily death, which, according to traditional theology, was (and is) the result of original sin. In this way, the second Marian dogma follows from the first Marian dogma “fittingly”.

It was, however, the finale of the purported-melody-turned-noise that proved too much to bear. Let what is to follow serve as the finale of my criticism as well.

“It must be pointed out,” says the author, “that Luther, as well as the other Reformers, did not intend to form a new church.” So far, so good. But then:

“Their intention was, rather, to reform the whole church, to cleanse it from ‘papistical’ additions, and to reshape it accordingly to the Word of God. During the sixteenth century this attempt was made at various points. As a whole it was unsuccessful, insofar as the Roman church rejected the Reformation. This is the reason Protestant churches came to be established.” (p. 185-6, italics added.)

Two points must be raised here. Firstly, as the Reformation means, in the last analysis, precisely the “attempt at cleansing of the church from ‘papistical’ additions, and reshaping it according to the Word of God”, the author ends up presenting a meaningless tautology: “As a whole [the Reformation] was unsuccessful, insofar as the Roman church rejected the Reformation.”*

Secondly, how is “This is the reason” to be understood? It clearly connotes certain guilt, and as such is historically a rather one-sided, naive claim. We can easily see how even the pettiest sect can wield such an argument in their favour. If, on the other hand, the pejorative connotation was merely accidental, “reason” remains an ambiguous concept and renders the argument logically problematic.

Part 3 of 3 here.

*I guess if the emphasis in on the Roman church rather than on rejected, the statement is not tautologous.

Bernhard Lohse's History of Doctrine (1 of 3)

This three-part post consists of a few selected reflections on A Short History of Christian Doctrine: from the First Century to the Present by Bernhard Lohse, who, at the time of this Revised American Edition (1985, trans. by F. Ernest Stoeffler) was Professor of Church History and Historical Theology at Hamburg University in Germany.

The “ebb and flow” of theology, i.e. the law of undulation between opposite extremes, especially in the chapters on the doctrines of the Trinity and of Christology, produces a certain dizziness in the reader, as I knew by experience it would. A roller-coaster affects the head and stomach, be it theological or secular in nature.

In avoidance of further disorientation and of merely reproducing the minute details of the development of this or that dogma, in this paper I shall instead make a few more general observations – observations, which are not totally free of criticism. “Lohse’s Lutheran lenses”, so to speak, distorted my view.

What is dogma/doctrine?

The author opens the book with two splendid quotes, one from Jesus in Matthew’s gospel and another from Maximus the Confessor. Respectively, “Who do you say that I am?” and, “Keeping silent about dogma means denying dogma.” Jesus asked his disciples who they thought he was. Their answer to this is the seed of all further Christian confession, for they must confess over and over again, and this can be called the history of Christian dogma.

Partly in order to capture a broader conception of ‘dogma’, Lohse leaves out infallibility as an unnecessary (Roman Catholic) attribute. His guiding principle, which is restated throughout the book, is commendable: “If it is not a characteristic of dogma that each age is concerned not merely with adding yet another insight to those of the past but with apprehending anew the totality of the Christian faith, this is true also of the present age” (p. 238-9). “New dogma” is not simply “added”, but it influences the whole faith and requires anew a total commitment.

Unfortunately Lohse feels he needs to juxtapose this insight with the Roman Catholic position, or what he takes to be it: “If it is apparent anywhere it is apparent in the history of the Reformation that the affirmations of the Christian faith are not a depositum fidei [treasury of faith] entrusted to the church, but that in each new instance they demand a total commitment” (p. 158-9). And: “[T]he idea that something new is merely added to earlier confessions simply does not accord with the facts of history” (p. 16).

As a non-Catholic what concerns me here is that the Roman Catholic view seems misrepresented. In fact, what the author offers as the “better” understanding could easily serve as a precise description of a modern-day Roman Catholic theologian’s understanding of depositum fidei and the task of the Magisterium and the Holy Office:

“It is not enough, therefore, to insist upon the continuity of the history of dogma: it must also be emphasized that in every epoch the totality of the Christian confession again hangs in the balance. Progress in the history of dogma does not mean simply that the treasury of Christian insight grows; it means, rather, that in every new day and every new situation everything that was inherited must be won anew.” (p. 17.)

Interestingly, the author states in the very beginning of his preface to the Revised American Edition that “many changes have taken place … as regards my won attitude to certain aspects, particularly insofar as modern Roman Catholicism is concerned” (p. ix).

What, exactly, there aspects are and how, exactly, has his attitude changed is not elaborated on. Content-wise the new edition leaves the original unaltered; the anti-Catholic undercurrent (to which we return later) prevails. That the new edition includes “an account of the significance of the Second Vatican Council” (p. x) is a mild overstatement, as this “account” consists of a mere page and a half. The only unambiguous appraisal offered within it concerns the Council’s “remarkable opening toward the other churches” (p. 248).

Dogma vs. speculative theology?

The new preface does, however, include a most salutary principle that, I felt, Lohse held to faithfully throughout his study: “If it is true that the history of dogma is not to be equated with the history of theology, the time is not yet come to incorporate the latest theological developments into a history of dogma” (p. x).

Barth, Bultmann, Tillich, and many others are not credited with special attention, and no account whatsoever is given to movements such as the theology of the death of God, the theology of revolution, the theology of liberation, black theology, process theology, or feminist theology. From the point of view of a history of dogma the time is not ripe for an assessment of their significance, although church history or the history of theology may consider them integral.

The dividing criteria is founded upon the concept of dogma: “Dogma is more that this or that opinion of one or the other theologian; rather, dogma is what the church believes, teaches, and confesses on the basis of the Holy Scriptures and in dealing with specific contemporary problems” (p. ix). The author keeps well within these limits. I can attest in sync with Review and Expositor that his treatment is “distinguished for its clarity and selectivity” (back cover).

Interpretation vs. criticism of dogma?

The history of dogma is not to be equated with the history of theology. We may add, and the author does add, that “the history of dogma and the criticism of dogma should at least be methodologically separated; they must not fuse into one” (p. 18). “Not criticism, but interpretation of dogmas, is the task of the historian of dogma” (p. 19).

Up to the Reformation era the author succeeds remarkably well in light of this self-erected principle. Especially uplifting was his account of figures posthumously credited with the dubious title of “heretic”. They are not demonized: even the wisest can believe error, even dangerous error, and yet be driven by authentic pastoral concern, for instance, in the case of Origen (p. 45-8) or Pelagius (p. 106-110). But as we approach the beginnings of Lutheranism, “the cleansing of the gospel”, a change in tone can be detected.

The new tone, upon careful listening, betrays two opposite cords: a satisfied one and a dissatisfied one. The former is attached to the person of Luther and the latter to Roman Catholicism in general and the Council of Trent and recent mariological developments in particular. Unsurprisingly these two opposite cords do not produce, in the ears of the listener, a satisfactory melody, but a rather dissatisfactory noise. I had to struggle to remain sympathetic toward the composer.

Part 2 of 3 here.

All is Well in Africa...

...Well, at least as far as I am concerned, that is. One major reason behind my wellbeing is the fact that my nephew, Benjamin, and my niece, Daniella, are so adorable. Daniella, the little princess, can walk! She is barely 11 months old. Benjy's vocabulary is extensive and he is a very brave boy. I guess our honeymoon is over, for the other day Benjy asked his dad: "When is Uncle Jason going back home?"

Posting will be more sporadic in December. I'm trying to cut down on time spent on the Internet -- which is not that difficult considering that I arrived without a personal computer to a land that has a somewhat unreliable network. (Isi: Ruokomäet tulee 17. päivä. Toisin sanoen on vielä reilu viikko aikaa löytää mulle läppäri, jossa toimii ainakin Word...)

Tomorrow To Tanzania

This is my last day in Finland. I fly tomorrow morning. Ethiopian Airlines... will take me from Frankfurt to Addis Ababa and from Addis Ababa to Dar es Salaam. Better that than Somalian Airlines, I guess, but the adventure might begin sooner than planned. (Experience with Ethiopian Airlines, anybody?)

I've been so busy with all the preparations, the move, the dissertation plan, the ECLD seminar, etc. that I haven't had much time to think about it that much. Little by little it's sinking in. The darker the weather outside becomes (I'm looking out at grey sky and grey lousy-excuse-for-snow) the wider my smile. I'm super excited. In two days I will see these two little children, Daniella and Benjy. Benjy: Jasu-setä tuo sulle sulkaajoulukalenterin! [Trans. Uncle Jason is bringing you a chocolate Christmas calendar!]