Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Genesis, Schöpfung: Erlösung; Gesetz (Ordnung im Chaos)

Kurzinhalt: The creation of Israel as a nation, achieved through the gift of the Law, or Torah ... is the basic model of creation within Hebrew thought forms. It is a reminder of the close connections between creation and redemption within this horizon.

Textausschnitt: 2b We find the same conviction at work in the opening chapter of the Book of Genesis. In mytho-poetic language the author of the first chapter of Genesis puts forward a powerfully religious vision of a universe that finds its source and origin in the divine command: "Let there be light... let there be night and day... let there be lights in the vault of heaven ... let the earth produce vegetation ... let the waters teem with life ... let the earth produce every living creature ... let us make human beings in our own image and likeness." God speaks and so it happens. Every pattern, every element of order that we find in the universe, from the "lights of the sky" to the complex interacting patterns of living things, has its source and origin in God's creative work. And this same conviction that the universe finds its origin in God stands behind the fundamental belief in the goodness of that creation: "God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good" (Gen 1:31). (Fs)

2c Biblical scholars tell us, however, that the source of this conviction regarding creation began not with speculation about the cosmos, as we have outlined it above, but with a much more concrete experience, that of the establishment of order in society. What emerges from these scholars'work is the strong connection between cosmogenesis and the "creation/redemption" of Israel as a social body. This interrelationship between the cosmological and social is common among what Eric Voegelin would call "cosmological cultures," in which the individual is ordered to the society and the society is ordered to the rhythms of the cosmos.1 The creation of Israel as a nation, achieved through the gift of the Law, or Torah-out of the social chaos of lawlessness emerges the nation built upon the order of the Torah-is the basic model of creation within Hebrew thought forms. It is a reminder of the close connections between creation and redemption within this horizon. The creation of social order is the basic experience of redemption. People who have experienced the breakdown or fragility of the social order, such as the recent devastation in New Orleans, will know what this means. These biblical creation texts are not metaphysically speculative, but historically grounded.2 (Fs) (notabene)

3a Nor should the Bible be read as providing us with a scientific account of the origins of the universe, in particular of the origins of life. The Bible does not seek to provide us with scientific information about the origins of life, but with a faith conviction that everything finds its origins in the divine command. Ultimately God, through divine wisdom, is the source of order and of life, but the Bible does not seek to tell us how God created these things, or the mechanisms for that creation. To read the Bible literally in this case, as found in so-called creation science, is to fundamentally misunderstand the literary form of the text.3 Science is free to develop theories such as evolution in order to understand the emergence of life, so long as scientists remain faithful to the empirical data, not to a literal misreading of the biblical text. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Genesis, Schöpfung: creatio ex nihilo -> Heil, das Gute aus dem Bösen; Schöpfung, Heil ohne Bedingung

Kurzinhalt: Metaphysically, creation ex nihilo means creation without prior conditions or constraints, whether these be the constraint of preexistent matter or of some form of necessity imposed on the divine being. It does not mean creation of matter into empty ...

Textausschnitt: CREATION EX NIHILO

3b It is commonly stated that Christian belief holds that God created the universe ex nihilo, that is, out of nothing (Catechism of the Catholic Church no. 338).1 When we look at the account in chapter 1 of Genesis, however, we do not find such an account. Rather there is a suggestion that God created the universe out of something preexistent: "the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters" (Gen 1:2).2 Given what we stated above, that the basic analogue for creation is one of social order out of the chaos of lawlessness, this is not surprising. The view of creation "out of nothing" is very sophisticated-indeed unimaginable-and we should not read it into this early biblical text. (Fs) (notabene)

4a The material in Genesis, however, is only one source for a Christian understanding of creation. The Psalms, wisdom literature, and prophetic literature also provide some interesting material. Of particular interest is the hymn to Wisdom in Proverbs 8:22-31 (also Wis 9:9-12, Sir 24:3-22), which forms the background of New Testament reflection on the divine Word and its role in creation. However, we shall turn attention to the initial emergence of belief in creation ex nihilo, a belief that begins in the period of the Maccabean persecutions. Thus, in 2 Maccabees 7:28 we find: "I beg you my child, to look at the heaven and the earth and see everything that is in them, and recognize that God did not make them out of things that existed." What is interesting here is the context of the affirmation that God did not create "out of things that existed." The context is not one of metaphysical speculation, as found in the Greek philosophers. Rather the concern is with the possibility of resurrection from the dead, in the face of a major historical problem faced by the Jewish people. Prophetic literature had always understood the defeats and sufferings of Israel as a punishment for their infidelity to the Law. This was the standard prophetic line, particularly in the Deuteronomistic school of thought.3 The Maccabean persecution was something different. Now they were suffering precisely because they were being faithful to the Law. The traditional prophetic response no longer worked. One feature of this period is the emergence of apocalyptic works such as the Book of Daniel, which seek to give the people hope that their suffering from persecution will not be too long. Nonetheless, the conviction that God is both creator of all that is, and just, required a better solution than simple perseverance-what about those who had died in the persecution? What justice could they expect? The solution was the hope/expectation of resurrection:

The creator of the world, who shaped the beginning of humankind and devised the origins of all things, will in his mercy give life and breath back to you, since you now forget yourselves for the sake of his laws. (2 Mace 7:23)
5a This same linking between belief in resurrection and creation ex nihilo is found in the New Testament. There Paul speaks of God "who gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not exist" (Rom 4:17).The significance of this runs parallel to what we have already seen in the Old Testament, that the issues of creation and redemption cannot be separated. The God who creates is the God who saves and vice versa. Christian faith resists any attempt to separate the two functions, as found in the Marcionite heresy, which set the God of the Old Testament (the creator) in opposition to the God of the NewTestament (the redeemer).4 The work of salvation, of bringing good out of the evil of sin, is truly an act of creation ex nihilo, a fundamentally creative act. We shall have more to say on this when we consider the problem of evil. (Fs)

5b Now while the roots of the biblical belief in creation ex nihilo lie in the saving power of God, it remains a belief rich in metaphysical meaning. Metaphysically, creation ex nihilo means creation without prior conditions or constraints, whether these be the constraint of preexistent matter or of some form of necessity imposed on the divine being. It does not mean creation of matter into empty space at a certain point in time, as we might commonly imagine. Space and time are already things that are themselves created. In this sense creation ex nihilo is, strictly speaking, unimaginable. We can form no image of it, since any image we might develop evokes notions of space and time. We can try to understand it in terms of an analogy of personal causation, for example, the creative work of an artist creating a work of art, or an engineer building a bridge. But all our analogies break down because God's creative act is complete and without any prior conditions or constraints, whereas in all our analogies people work with something that already exists and transform it into something new. Moreover, on this account God is not constrained to create; God's creative act is entirely free. There is no cause for creation apart from God's free act, God's loving will. Finally, God is not constrained by the limits of some preexistent material that confines the divine options. The freedom of this act is complete and sovereign. This sovereignty is the ultimate guarantee that creation is good. There are no prior conditions that limit God's creative act, nothing preexisting that lies beyond God's will or power.5 (Fs)

6a In order to clarify further the significance of creation ex nihilo we can compare it with some of the alternatives that others have explored in the history of religious and philosophical thought. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Schöpfung, Modell: creatio ex divino -> Problem des Bösen

Kurzinhalt: Apart from the severe compromising of divine transcendence, one should also ask how this view of creation accounts for the problem of evil. If creation is from the very stuff of God, what "space" is there for evil?

Textausschnitt: CREATION EX DIVINO

6b According to such a view, creation is out of the divine substance itself. This view divinizes the created order and makes the universe the physical manifestation of God, leading to a form of pantheism. Such a view is increasingly popular among ecologically oriented groups who are seeking to preserve the natural environment. The claim made is that the created order is sacred in some sense. (Fs)

One can argue that this position is rejected in the creation account of Genesis 1, which is at pains to stress the transcendence, or otherness, of God, and the nondivine nature of the created order.1 The biblical author was rejecting the then widespread "pagan" view that failed to distinguish between the divine and the created. In fact, on this pagan view, creation is no longer "created" as such; rather it is a manifestation of divine being. Some might even speak of the divine as the soul of the cosmos, so that the cosmos is the body of God. (Fs)

6c Many might find this an attractive position; however, there are questions to be addressed. Apart from the severe compromising of divine transcendence, one should also ask how this view of creation accounts for the problem of evil. If creation is from the very stuff of God, what "space" is there for evil? Evil becomes less a moral issue than an epistemological one. It becomes the failure to acknowledge one's own divine nature. Such positions are becoming more common in various new age belief systems. Some might refer to this view as neopaganism, as evidenced in an increasing interest in the occult and witchcraft, found in some popular television programs. In its present form it can be a reaction to the perceived failures of traditional Christian belief to protect and preserve the natural environment. Most notable has been the critique of Christianity by Lynn White. White argues:

Especially in its Western form, Christianity is the most anthropocentric religion the world has seen. As early as the 2nd century both Tertullian and Saint Irenaeus of Lyons were insisting that when God shaped Adam he was foreshadowing the image of the incarnate Christ, the Second Adam. Man shares, in great measure, God's transcendence of nature. Christianity, in absolute contrast to ancient paganism and Asia's religions (except, perhaps, Zorastrianism), not only established a dualism of man and nature but also insisted that it is God's will that man exploit nature for his proper ends.2

7a In a sense, Catholic thought is better placed to respond to this criticism because of its sacramental view of reality, which recognizes that the material order may mediate the divine, though without a strict identification that blurs the divine transcendence. The reaction is more in relation to a rationalistic understanding of God and religion that is seen in some forms of Protestant thought that place a greater emphasis on the divine Word received through the preaching of the gospel than on the sacraments as mediating God's grace. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Schöpfung, Modell: creatio ex emanatio; Demiurg, neuplatonisch, Gnostik; Bewahrung der Transzendenz auf Kosten der Gutheit der Schöpfung

Kurzinhalt: This approach feels the need to protect God from the "obvious" flaws of the material order. God could not possibly have created such a coarse material reality. Moreover, by misconstruing transcendence as remoteness, the emanationist notion requires ...

Textausschnitt: CREATION BY EMANATION

7b Another alternative to creation ex nihilo is found in emanationist accounts of creation. These positions are impressed by the divine transcendence but misconstrue the nature of that transcendence as remoteness. Examples can be found in Neoplatonic and Gnostic sources.1 In order to protect divine transcendence, creation is conceived as a series of emanations from the divine, a graded hierarchy of emanations, with each grade in the hierarchy giving rise to the next lower grade. In this way the divine creative power is mediated through a series of increasingly degraded beings. Not only did this "protect" the divine transcendence; it also accounted for the "coarse" nature of material creation. The physical world is not directly created by God, but by a lower-order being, sometimes referred to as the demiurge, with more limited power. Often these emanations are construed as "necessary," not the product of God's freely willed activity, in order to protect God from being such a poor creator!

8a While the strength of this view is its desire to protect the divine transcendence, it does so at the expense of the goodness of creation, which is severely compromised. This approach feels the need to protect God from the "obvious" flaws of the material order. God could not possibly have created such a coarse material reality. Moreover, by misconstruing transcendence as remoteness, the emanationist notion requires an imagined bridge between the remote divine being and the material order of creation. The fault with this image is that given the infinite difference between God and creation, no amount of bridging bridges the infinite gap. The imagined graded hierarchy in fact solves nothing. (Fs)

8b Christian belief, on the other hand, implies God's direct creative action with the entirety of creation. Because of divine transcendence God needs no intermediaries to create, and so God is directly and immediately present to the whole of the created order. Transcendence does not imply remoteness, but in fact guarantees divine immanence. Nor do we need to protect God from the coarseness of creation. Creation is good, even in its materiality. (Fs)

Emanationist accounts emerge wherever people argue that somehow God must create the world. The language is often one of the necessity of God sharing the divine goodness, or of the overflowing of that goodness. This captures the fact that creation has its roots in the divine love and will. But by making creation necessary and not freely willed, in fact these positions eventually compromise the goodness of creation, which is made not because of love alone but because of some necessity-or even need-on the part of God.

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Schöpfung, Modell: Dualismus; aber: moralischer Dualismus

Kurzinhalt: This position posits two distinct but opposed creative forces: one good, God; the other evil, usually depicted as Satan or the devil. The beauty of this approach is that it provides a direct and simple theoretical solution to the problem of evil.

Textausschnitt: DUALIST ACCOUNTS OF CREATION

8c Perhaps the notion of creation that most captures the popular imagination is dualism. This position posits two distinct but opposed creative forces: one good, God; the other evil, usually depicted as Satan or the devil. The beauty of this approach is that it provides a direct and simple theoretical solution to the problem of evil. The fact of evil is traced back not to the creative act of God but to the malevolent act of the anti-God figure of Satan. In this schema, God is the creator of spiritual realities while Satan is the creator of material realities. Spirit (reason, intellect, will) is good; matter (body, sexuality, feeling, etc.) is bad. This approach has many historical manifestations such as Zoroastrianism, Manichaeism, Catharism, and some forms of Gnosticism. Overall, Christianity rejects this type of ontological dualism, while maintaining a moral dualism, that is, the objective distinction between good and evil actions and decisions. Nonetheless, some Christian heterodox sects such as the Cathars and some popular forms of Christian belief tend to fall over into an ontological dualism.1
9a In rejecting ontological dualism, Christian belief asserts the sovereign power of God over all creation, including evil spirits. It rejects any notion that creation is evenly poised between forces of good and evil. The ultimate source of all that exists is the divine will, God's love and wisdom. Because of this we can have ultimate confidence in the triumph of good over evil. However, it does raise questions of theodicy, or justifying God in the face of evil, which we consider later. (Fs)

9b Dualism remains common in popular discourse. Whenever someone or something is labeled "pure evil," then a dualistic mind-set is evident. Such language is sometimes used in political rhetoric, for example, in speaking of terrorists. In Christian belief there is no such thing as pure evil. It is self-contradictory to think of pure evil, since everything that exists, inasmuch as it exist, has some goodness. Again, this will be explored further when we raise questions of theodicy. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Schöpfung, Vorhersehung, Kontingenz; creatio ex nihilo -> Problem der Möglichkeit der Kontingenz; Aristoteles, Thomas

Kurzinhalt: A consequence of creation ex nihilo is that what God wills necessarily happens ... The problem that then arises is: how can there be room for the contingent (chance) in creation?

Textausschnitt: PROVIDENCE, CREATION, AND CONTINGENCY

10c Christian belief in creation ex nihilo places God apart from the spatio-temporal-material order. God does not create material being in space and time; God creates space, time, and matter. There is no "before" creation, since "before" implies time and time is as much a created reality as space and matter. God exists not in time but in an "eternal now." Consequently, God's creative act is one and simultaneous. In one act God creates the whole of the created order, past, present, and future. All is immediately present to God and willed by God in the single divine act of creation. Nonetheless, although the act is one and timeless, the consequences are many and temporal. (Fs)

11a A consequence of creation ex nihilo is that what God wills necessarily happens. There is no disjunction between God's will and the reality of the event, at least in the divine now, though for us the events created by God are divided among past, present, and future. The problem that then arises is: how can there be room for the contingent (chance) in creation? For example, Aristotle allowed for the contingent by appealing to the existence of preexistent matter, which God did not create. If we remove any notion of preexisting prime matter through belief in creation ex nihilo, do we then remove any possibility of contingency? (Fs) (notabene)

11b In fact, the view that a creator God removes any possibility of contingency has become part of the common mind. This is most evident in thinkers such as biologist Richard Dawkins, who argues that because evolution depends on contingent events such as chance mutations, God can have nothing to do with it.1 The claim is made that real chance is incompatible with divine causation. The clear contention is that a notion of divine creation eliminates chance or contingency and eventually eliminates human freedom itself. (Fs)

11c Though expressed in modern form, the problem was not unknown to Thomas Aquinas. In Summa Contra Gentiles, Aquinas notes: "You object that providence is necessarily efficacious; I retort that therefore what providence intends to be contingent, will inevitably be contingent" (3, c. 94). (Fs)

In other words, Aquinas would argue that God can use chance/contingency to achieve a desired outcome, and achieve it inevitably, even while the event remains chance. (Fs) (notabene)

11d Transposing this into a modern context, the question can be rephrased thus: Is there any intelligibility in, or science of, chance events? Aristotle denied that there was a science of the contingent, because prime matter lacked intelligibility. Consequently there was no providence for Aristotle, only fate. Aquinas affirms the reality of providence and the complete intelligibility of the created order. Consequently, the logical conclusion is that there must be a "science" of the contingent. In the modern context we would recognize the role of statistics in science, for example, in quantum mechanics. Thus, even what appear to be random events occur within a certain statistical pattern or probability. We can even use statistical means to achieve desired outcomes, which will nonetheless remain chance. And if we can, so can God! For example, we know that smoking causes lung cancer, but we cannot know who will develop cancer and who will not. We know that if we reduce smoking we will reduce the incidence of lung cancer, but we cannot point to one person whose life has been saved by reducing the incidence of smoking. In reducing the incidence of smoking we will the particular individual outcomes because we will the general outcomes (i.e., fewer deaths by cancer). In choosing to adopt a statistical causation, we accept the fact that there will be a spread of outcomes, within our desired outcome. The difference between our acting and God's in such a case is that while our willing of the particular is mediated through the general approach, God's is immediate because God is the creator of all. All creation is immediately present to God as its fundamental cause and origin.2

12a To invoke statistical lawfulness with contingency is to invite comparison between necessity and the classical mechanical laws such as those of Newtonian science.3 These laws seemed to offer the possibility of a completely deterministic universe. For example, mathematician Simon Laplace (1749-1827) boasted that, given the position and velocity of every particle in the universe, the future would be as accessible as the past.4 On such a view, to invoke statistical laws is always a cloak for ignorance. On the other hand, to invoke the reality of contingency is to recognize the irreducible character of statistical lawfulness. Quantum mechanics and evolution have embedded the notion of statistics into the heart of modern science. The realization of the chance nature of events does not exclude the guiding hand of divine providence, but it does indicate the mode of operation of that providence, through both classical and statistical means. Further, Bernard Lonergan has shown how classical and statistical lawfulness combine to lead to what he calls emergent probability, the development of schemes of recurrence that allow evolutionary processes to arise.5 This transposes Aquinas's categories of necessity and contingence into a modern scientific worldview. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Schöpfung, Problem des Bösen (Argument gegen die Existenz Gottes); Unterschied: Leid - das Böse, physisches Übel - Kontingenz des Universums; Buddhismus (dukkha); Augustinus: das Böse als Privation des Seins

Kurzinhalt: Suffering is a privation of the fullness of being proper to a conscious being. It indicates a diminishment of our being. However, this is not evil in the proper moral sense of the word.

Textausschnitt: THE PROBLEM OF EVIL AND SUFFERING

13a So far we have been presenting a classical "strong" understanding of the nature of creation and of divine transcendence and its implications in terms of God's efficacious providence. The big question that hangs over our whole discussion has been, What about evil? How do we account for the "presence" of evil in a creation that has been deemed to be "very good" (Gen 1:31)? Indeed the presence of evil undermines our arguments that the universe is an ordered cosmos, since evil injects a pall of meaninglessness into our human experience that threatens to overcome whatever sense of order we might claim to be present. It is not surprising that people turn to dualist accounts of evil as a way of escaping from the obvious dilemmas posed by classical Christian faith. (Fs)

13b The problem of evil is perhaps the most pressing existential issue that we face in proclaiming the gospel. Indeed, it may lead us even to doubt the existence of God. The classical rejection of arguments for the existence of God runs along the following lines: You say God is all good and all powerful; yet evil exists, and God does nothing to stop it. Therefore either God is all good, but not all powerful; or God is all powerful but not all good. Therefore your concept of God is incoherent and so God does not exist. My own experience tends to indicate that behind such argumentation lies a more pressing existential context of personal suffering and experience of evil. This leads us to the first important issue. Are we dealing with the problem of evil or the problem of suffering? (Fs) (notabene)
Suffering or Evil?

13c Popular author Scott Peck, when planning People of the Lie, his study of the nature of evil, was asked by a friend, "Maybe you will help me understand my son's cerebral palsy?" His response was to say he was writing on evil, not suffering.1 Is there a difference? Is the problem of suffering the same as the problem of evil?
13d A similar question arises in relation to Buddhism. Buddhism identifies the fundamental problem of human living as one of suffering, or dukkha, sometimes now translated as "unsatisfactoriness."The saving message of the Buddha is one of the elimination of suffering through the extinction of desire, which is viewed as the source of all suffering. Nirvana is the total elimination of desire, and so the total cessation of suffering. Given the current popularity of Buddhism in Western countries, this analysis of the human condition deserves deeper reflection. (Fs)
14a The question of suffering and evil requires both delicacy and firmness in response. The two are related but distinct; however, the existential linkage is strong. Evil can and does lead to great suffering, but evil may also involve little or no suffering whatsoever. In fact, some evil may even be perpetrated in the name of reducing suffering, such as in cases of euthanasia, where life is taken to alleviate suffering. On the other hand, some suffering may be freely entered into as good, not as a masochistic thing, but like the training of the athlete who must "break through the pain barrier" in order to achieve success. Pain is also an important indicator for the presence of harmful activities-if we did not feel pain, would we pull our hands out of a fire? Pain serves a useful purpose in such cases. Then there is the ultimate pain, the "pain" of death, involving bodily pain, psychological pain, and the pain of separation from friends and loved ones. (Fs)

14b We shall begin with an "ontological" examination of the question of pain and suffering. A finite being, such as a human being, will always "suffer" the impact of other beings upon it; that is, a finite being will be passively affected by other beings, precisely because it is limited. Because of its limitations there will be occasions when limits are reached that threaten the existence of a finite being. Then a finite being faces damage or destruction. When a finite being is conscious, it will consciously experience the reaching of its limits; this conscious experience is felt as pain or suffering. It occurs when a conscious finite subject reaches physical, chemical, biological, and psychic limits, when it is pushed to these limits by forces in its environment or its own free actions. The suffering incurred indicates that limits have been reached, and unless we act to protect ourselves we may incur serious damage. Limits may not be absolute, however, but relative to a current state of development. In this case we may overcome our limits through a developmental growth or act of self-transcendence, which moves us, with some discomfort, beyond our current limits. On the other hand, other limits are absolute, and we transgress them only at the cost of serious suffering and possible death. (Fs)

14c In all these ways we can identify a certain intelligibility to suffering. Suffering has an intrinsic relationship to finitude. The only way to avoid the possibility of suffering is to avoid finitude. It is not suffering per se that is a problem, but suffering that is without any apparent meaning, suffering that is caused by callous indifference, or malicious intent, suffering that is caused for no good reason. This is meaningless suffering. This is where we find an overlap with the problem of evil. (Fs)

15a We have already considered some of the "solutions" to the problem of evil when we considered different approaches to creation. When we consider evil "ontologically," in terms of determining its causes, we have limited options:

1. Evil is caused, and caused by some anti-God being such as the devil-this is dualism. (Fs)
2. Evil is caused, and caused by God-this seems blasphemous. (Fs)

3. Evil is uncaused-this is the classical Christian ontology of evil, that evil is privation, the privation of the good (frivatio bonum). (Fs)

15b The fundamental privation involved is a privation in the will, that is, sin. The decisions of the will are meant to be caused by "good reasons." A privation of that causation is where the will is moved by something other than good reasons. This absence of "good reasons" is the basic experience of the meaning-lessness of evil. When we look at acts of terror, such as the destruction of the Twin Towers on September 11, 2001, we simply cannot find any "good reason" why anyone would do such a thing. It is evil because it is so pointless. The classical exposition of this in the Christian tradition is found in Augustine's Confessions, book 2, where Augustine examines his own childhood motivations for stealing pears from his neighbor. Each possible motivation evaporates on examination, leading him to conclude that his act has no good reason whatsoever. Book 7 of the Confessions then gives a more ontological analysis of evil as the privation of the good, of being. Evil has no substance, no being; rather, it is the privation of being, the being of meaningfulness. (Fs)

15c The complexity here is that suffering can be viewed as a privation too. Suffering is a privation of the fullness of being proper to a conscious being. It indicates a diminishment of our being. However, this is not evil in the proper moral sense of the word. It is sometimes referred to as "physical evil" as distinct from "moral evil." Nonetheless, the ground of so-called physical evil is finitude, and even finitude itself can be considered a privation, the privation of unlimited being-hence the temptation of the serpent, "you will be like God" (Gen 3:5). But to view finite being primarily in terms of privation is to go down the path of various dualistic accounts that are implicitly suspicious of the goodness of finite created realities. (Fs)

15d On the other hand, much of what we identify in terms of physical evil-for example, earthquakes and other natural disasters, diseases, malformations, and so on-arise out the real contingency of the universe, because it is constructed on the basis of both deterministic and statistical causation. Because God chooses that there be real contingency, including the most highly valued contingency of human freedom, there will always be a statistical spread of outcomes. What is possible, with however small a probability, becomes inevitable over long periods and for large numbers. The very processes that drive evolutionary development allow for the possibility of genetic deformations and diseases (e.g., Down's syndrome, cystic fibrosis, sickle cell anemia, and so on) with all their painful consequences. In that sense God wills these sufferings because God wills the world to be a world in which such things can and will happen. The fact that people overcome such illnesses and disabilities is a constant reminder that suffering is not the greatest evil, and even in these sufferings meaning can be found. There can be dignity for us even in times of great suffering. To quote Pope John Paul II:

Suffering as it were contains a special call to the virtue which a human being must exercise on her own part. And this is the virtue of perseverance in bearing whatever disturbs and causes harm. In doing this, the individual unleashes hope which maintains in her the conviction that suffering will not get the better of her, that it will not deprive her of her dignity as a human being, a dignity linked to awareness of the meaning of life. (Salvifici Doloris 23)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Schöpfung (Adma, Eva); Sünde - Leid, Tod

Kurzinhalt: Surely death is "natural," part of the natural order of things? What difference does sin make in such a situation? ... Because of this new meaning the reality of suffering and death has changed for us. In this case we can say ...

Textausschnitt: Sin and Suffering

16a It is important to acknowledge that there is a strong existential linkage between the problems of suffering and evil. Even in the Christian context we find assertions of the link between sin and death-"Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death came through sin, and so death spread to all because all have sinned" (Rom 5:12). Adam and Eve were expelled from the garden to face trial, suffering, and death, because they ate the forbidden fruit of the tree of life. Do we in fact believe that "if Adam had not sinned then we would not have suffered and died"?

16b We know from scientific accounts that death and suffering have been part of the biological order since the very beginning of life. The death of organisms is often the basis for the life of another organism, and the decay of one generation of living beings becomes the fertilizer for the next generation of living things. Surely death is "natural," part of the natural order of things? What difference does sin make in such a situation?

16c It is difficult to speculate on what human life would be like if there were no sin. Clearly the biological capacity for death and suffering are intrinsic to one's bodily constitution. However, one suggestion we can make is that sin changes the meaning of death and suffering. Because of sin, suffering and death become ambiguous realities, tinged with a sense of loss and even punishment-Why did this happen to me? What did I do to deserve it? Why do we spontaneously link suffering with punishment in this way? Why is suffering only "fair" if it is linked somehow with guilt? Is death a joyous "return to the Father," or does it lead to judgment and the possibility of condemnation? Questions such as these indicate that suffering and death have taken on a new meaning in the light of sin and evil. Because of this new meaning the reality of suffering and death has changed for us. In this case we can say, "death came through sin" (Rom 5:12), in that the form of death we now experience is a different reality from the nature of death without sin. It has the character of "punishment for sin," which it did not have before. It is now an ambiguous event in our lives, one we face with fear and trepidation, because of the ambiguity of our lives affected by sin. (Fs) (notabene)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Das Böse, irrational; Ursache d. B.: nicht intelligibel; Kenntnis der Sünde als Tatsache, aber nicht in intelligibler Korrelation zu anderen Dingen, außer akzidentell; Freiheit; Gottes Antwort auf d. B.: Erbarmen, Gnade, Erlösung

Kurzinhalt: Why evil occurs is a fundamental mystery, and one that completely lacks an intelligent answer ... The mystery of sin is a mystery even to God. Lonergan put the matter this way: ...

Textausschnitt: Why Evil?

17b Finally, we can ask, why is there evil anyway? Perhaps the most shocking response to the question of "why evil?" is that in fact it has no answer. Why evil occurs is a fundamental mystery, and one that completely lacks an intelligent answer. Even God cannot answer the question of why someone sins. No satisfactory response can be found that would provide an intelligent answer to the question. The mystery of sin is a mystery even to God. Lonergan put the matter this way:

We can know sin as a fact; we cannot place it in intelligible correlation with other things except per accidens [accidentally]; that is, one sin can be correlated with another, for deficient antecedents have defective consequents; but the metaphysical surd of sin cannot be related explanatorily or causally with the integers that are objective truth; for sin is really irrational, a departure at once from the ordinance of the divine mind and from the dictate of right reason. The rational and the irrational cannot mix, except in fallacious speculation. And this precept is not merely relative to man; it is absolute. The mysteries of faith are mysteries only to us because of their excess of intelligibility; but the mysterium iniquitatis [mystery of iniquity] is mysterious in itself and objectively, because of a defect of intelligibility.1

17c One might weaken the question by asking rather, Why does God allow evil? One immediate response is to state that God does not allow evil-in fact God forbids evil through the moral law: "hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good" (Rom 12:9). Further, God offers us divine grace so that we may resist the specious attraction of evil. So God enjoins us to resist sin and empowers us to do so. (Fs)

18a One might further weaken the question to, Why doesn't God do something about evil? The presumption is that God is not doing something about it. Even our own moral indignation at evil is itself a movement toward good, which God creates in us. Further, God acts through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus to offer us forgiveness of our sins, and sends the Spirit to empower us to resist evil. The life of Jesus is an extended parable for how God deals with the problem of evil, namely, through redemptive suffering. The real question is not whether God is doing something, or should be doing more, but whether we are doing enough in response to the actions God has taken. For the problem of evil is a practical problem requiring a practical response. It is not a theoretical problem that we can "think away" or rationalize. (Fs)

18b Finally, we might weaken the question even further, Why does God create a world in which evil occurs? Now human freedom is a great good; with freedom certainly comes the possibility of sin. There is a gap, however, between the possibility and the actuality of sinning. Could God have made a universe in which in fact no one ever sinned? Perhaps, but even in a world where sin occurs, responsibility for that sin remains with the sinner, not God. Certainly God could have made a world without freedom, but freedom is among the highest created values, a great good. And the fact of evil, unintelligible though it is, makes possible a new type of good, that of mercy, forgiveness, and redemption. This is not a "reason" for evil, or even for allowing evil. It is God's response to the problem of evil, drawing good out of the evil that arises. In the end all we can really assert is that, despite the presence and fact of evil, this creation is still good-indeed it is very good.2

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Schöpfung, das Böse - Buddhismus (dukkha, kein Schöpfungsmythos); Buddhismus - Aristoteles; christliche Position

Kurzinhalt: Buddhism focuses attention on the problem of suffering, while Christianity views this as secondary to the problem of evil. This also reflects divergent approaches to the question of creation.

Textausschnitt: Buddhism

19a We have already considered some of the differences between the Christian understanding of the human condition and that of Buddhism. Buddhism focuses attention on the problem of suffering, while Christianity views this as secondary to the problem of evil. This also reflects divergent approaches to the question of creation. For Buddhism there is no real sense of creation as the product of a divine creator. The world simply is, and is eternal. Buddhism has no creation myth, and the Buddha was not interested in metaphysical speculation about the origins of the world. For Buddhists, what "creates" the world is the mind, and this is in some sense an illusion. The materiality of the world is "unreal," an illusion that we create in living our lives. The aim of Buddhism is enlightenment, to see through the illusion of the world and the desires that go with it. When we see through the illusion of creation we can eliminate our desires, and with it the suffering (dukkha) that these desires cause. When all desire is finally eliminated, we reach nirvana, or extinction. (Fs) (notabene)

19b We can analyze this position from a Christian perspective in light of some of what we have discussed above. If one assumes that the world has no creator, no origin, but is eternally existing, then it has no fundamental intelligibility grounded in a creative act of a wise and loving God. It comes closer to the view of Aristotle that God creates out of preexistent matter, only without God. Hence, there is not real order in creation, only the order imposed on it by the mind, in a desperate attempt to avoid total chaos. But this order is illusory, and our desperation for order leads us to desire the things of the world and so leads to suffering. In a sense, Buddhism is overwhelmed by the omnipresence of suffering, in which it can find no value or meaning. The only solution can be escape from our suffering and finitude by the elimination of all desire and resultant personal dissolution. (Fs) (notabene)

19c This is very different from the Christian position, which affirms both the reality and the goodness of the material world, grounded in the wise and loving act of God. For Christians the problem of the human condition is not suffering and desire but evil and the distortions of desire that occur in sin. Indeed, Christianity can envisage a positive role for suffering in overcoming evil. Rather than eliminate desire, the redemption that Christianity seeks liberates our desires to embrace the totality of the good, the Kingdom of God, a kingdom of justice and peace. Christians are actually called to a life of desire, but a desire for all things that are good, each desired in its proper proportion. Death then brings not extinction but the fulfillment of our ordered desire in the vision of God. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Schöpfung, das Böse - Hinduismus; Brahman

Kurzinhalt: Many interpret Hindu teaching on creation as a form of monism whereby there is in fact only one reality, Brahman, the changeless, eternal ground of all being. The world that we experience is mere illusion, ...

Textausschnitt: Hinduism

20a Hinduism is a very complex religious phenomenon. It comprises deep mystical elements, profound philosophical thought, together with popular manifestations that strike many Western moderns as bordering on the bizarre. In seeking some point of comparison with Christianity I shall consider a particular school of Hindu thought, Advaita Vedanta, which offers a "nondualist" interpretation of creation.1 Many interpret Hindu teaching on creation as a form of monism whereby there is in fact only one reality, Brahman, the changeless, eternal ground of all being. The world that we experience is mere illusion, an appearance of being. The main "problem" of human existence is ignorance resulting in a dualistic consciousness that fails to see the fundamental oneness of all things. This stress on oneness is not just a philosophical position, but is also affirmed in the experience of Hindu mystics. Redemption is the overcoming of dualist consciousness and the realization that there is only one reality, that the higher self (atman) is Brahman. When the illusion of the world is stripped away, all that "remains is the impersonal, perfect Brahman-consciousness beyond relation, which is infinite, simple, eternal, joyous self-shining. Nothing remains to compromise the radiance, simplicity, fullness and transcendence of this One."2

20b A Christian response to this would want to say yes and no. On the one hand, terms such as "infinite," "simple," "eternal," and "transcendent" resonate with the Christian understanding of God. On the other hand, the Christian conception is of a personal God who exists in a loving relationship with creation. The Vedantan response to Christian belief is to view Christianity as an inferior religion, caught up in a dualistic understanding whereby "God and the world ... appear in relation to each other as limited parts of a larger whole."3 To them Christian belief in a personal God is little more than an anthropomorphic projection, particularly when they read biblical stories of God being angry, or destroying nations, or changing his mind. (Fs)

21a However, just as we must distinguish popular Hinduism from its more philosophical expressions, so too we must recognize the same distinction in Christianity. While many Christians may take biblical stories at face value, early church fathers were aware of the difficulty in taking such stories literally. Origen warned against anthropomorphism in reading biblical stories about God, and Thomas Aquinas presents an account of God as creator in which few would recognize the God of the biblical narrative. For Aquinas, while the world is really related to God, God is not really related to the world, in the sense that creation cannot change or impact God in any way (Summa Theolo-giae I q. 3 a. 7).4 God is wholly Other from creation, not limited by it in any way. God is not just another being, but Being itself (subsistens esse). (Fs)

21b In fact, some have argued that there are striking similarities between these two philosophical accounts of creation. The Vedantan position of the illusory character of the world is similar to the insistence of Aquinas on the radical contingency of creation. Creation is contingent not in terms of the chance and necessity we experience in creation but in terms of the more fundamental contingency of the very being of creation. Only God is necessary being, just as for the Hindu thinkers only Brahman is truly real. The insistence of the Vedantan position that Brahman is impersonal can act as an important corrective to Christians who too easily anthropomorphize God, reducing the reality of God to the same level as ourselves, only bigger!

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Evolution - Schöpfung; emergent probablity; A -> B -> C -> D ... -> Z (kausale Kette vs. wiederkehrender Zyklus, recurrend scheme; Wahrscheinlichkeit (probability of emergence - survival); Krebszyklus; reduktionistische Sicht <-> Erkennen als Sehen

Kurzinhalt: Lonergan's notion of a "scheme of recurrence" ... Its basis is an acknowledgment that there are deterministic and statistical laws. These interact to produce the resulting schemes. It thus allows for a "design" argument without falling over into ...

Textausschnitt: EVOLUTION AND THE CREATION OF HUMAN BEINGS

27a The second challenge to the special claims made by Christian faith for human beings arises from the theory of evolution. The formulation of the theory of evolution is one of the most significant cultural events of the last two centuries. Prior to its formulation, the cultural expectation was that things would stay the same, unless some good reason could be found to change them. Following its formulation the expectation is now that things will continue to change, or evolve, and that to stay unchanged demands some rationale. We have moved from a fundamentally static conception of reality to a fundamentally dynamic conception, largely through the influence of the theory of evolution. What began as a theory to explain the diversity and development of new species has become a totalizing worldview for everything-not just biological species, but the cosmos, institutions, cultures, technology, economies, and so on. It has taken on a total explanatory quality and in some settings become clearly ideological. (Fs)

27b The evolutionary "cultural revolution" has influenced Christian belief in a number of ways. First, the fact that evolution implies a contingent element in creation has been used by some to claim that there is no design for the universe. It is used to reject any argument "by design" that might lead to belief in a creator God. We have already seen in our consideration of providence and contingency in the previous chapter how misleading such a claim is. Second, evolution has been used to suggest that human beings have no special place in creation. We are just the product of random mutations, not the purpose and peak of creation, as suggested by Christian belief. Third, among the ideological features of evolutionary thought, one prominent element has been social Darwinism, the suggestion that our social order should be one of the "survival of the fittest." Such a suggestion hits at the heart of Christian concern for the poor and help for those most in need. Fourth, for those who identify Christian belief with a literal reading of Genesis, evolution is used to reject Christian belief because of its supposed opposition to scientific thought. As we noted earlier, to read the opening chapters of Genesis literally is basically to misunderstand their significance, and, in the face of modern science, to bring faith into disrepute. (Fs)

28a This is a tangled web to deal with, involving scientific, philosophical, ideological, and theological judgments of varying difficulty. Let us deal with these matters constructively; that is, let us seek out the intelligibility of an evolving system. In this I shall be dependent on Bernard Lonergan's notion of emergent probability. This broadens the point of entry beyond the basic biological idea to the more general notion of "evolution" or emergence within the whole created order. It involves a further specification of what we have already spoken about in the previous chapter on the notion of providence and deterministic and statistical lawfulness.1

28b Let us begin with the notion of causal lawfulness, which is either classical (deterministic) or statistical (contingent):

A -> B, unless something acts to prevent it
OR
A -> B with a certain statistical probability

In both cases a statistical element enters, for "unless something acts to prevent it" will itself be governed by a statistical law. Consider now a causal chain:

A -> B -> C -> D ... -> Z

28b Then the probability of getting to the end of the chain diminishes dramatically with each added step, for the likelihood of getting to the end of the chain is the product of each of the individual probabilities.2 Consider instead a causal cycle

Bild im Original (Kreis mit A -> B usw.)

29a This shift from a chain of events to a cycle of events dramatically increases the probability of the occurrence of the cycle itself, becoming more like the sum of the individual probabilities. Once such a cycle is established, it can in fact maintain itself. Lonergan calls such a cycle a "scheme of recurrence." Lonergan thus distinguishes between the probability of emergence of the scheme (which might be quite low) and the probability of survival of the scheme (which might be much higher).These two probabilities govern the emergence and survivability of the scheme. Once such a scheme emerges with a high enough probability of survival, it can itself become an element in an even higher scheme of recurrence. We thus have higher-order schemes consisting of schemes within schemes within schemes of recurrence. (Fs) (notabene)

29b The existence and importance of such cycles can be noted in a number of fields, for example, the Krebs cycle in cellular biochemistry,3 the nitrogen cycle in ecological science,4 and the Gulf Stream current in oceanography. These are well-known examples, but in fact such schemes are commonplace in most scientific settings if you know what you are looking for. Indeed much of the emerging science of ecology involves the identification of such cycles within the biosphere. What we are learning from ecological science is that the removal of one element in a causal cycle is often enough to destroy the whole scheme. Hence, the destruction of one plant may lead to the elimination of an insect, which is then no longer available for a certain species of bird, and so on, leading to major shifts in a local ecology. (Fs)

29c Lonergan's notion of a "scheme of recurrence" removes many of the difficulties associated with the evolutionary cultural revolution. Its basis is an acknowledgment that there are deterministic and statistical laws. These interact to produce the resulting schemes. It thus allows for a "design" argument without falling over into determinism, because in God's providential order large numbers and long time frames have explanatory power for statistical systems. The scheme of recurrence also removes the ideological element because it no longer speaks of "survival of the fittest" but of probabilities of emergence and of survival. When we move to the human realm, these probabilities are also the product of human decision making, not just biological forces. And so we cannot draw the conclusions of social Darwinism that would leave the poor, the sick, and the weak to "fend for themselves." Does it, however, present us with a hierarchically constituted notion of reality? And are humans at the "top" of such a hierarchy? Do human have a special place?

30a The question of whether being is hierarchically constituted can be answered in the affirmative as long as one is able to resist any temptation to accept a reductionist account of reality. It is easy for the physicist to claim that chemistry is really just a branch of physics; but we still retain separate departments in universities. We train people in very different skills. Chemists and physicists publish in different journals and so on. Is this just academic tribalism, or are we dealing with differing realities? Similar comments could be made about biology and psychology. Do we reduce psychology to biology, biology to chemistry, chemistry to physics, and physics to what? Or do we recognize a hierarchically ordered structure to the physical world that recognizes the reality of increasing complexifkation? The difference between the reductionist account and the "realist" account adopted here is that the first conceives of reality as constituted by looking-the more intensely we look, the smaller things we can find. The "realist" account conceives of reality as constituted by intelligibility and so recognizes the reality of increasing complexity. Increasing complexity points to new and richer intelligibility and hence new reality. (Fs) (notabene)

30b The question whether human beings occupy some special place in this hierarchy then relates to the question of whether the reality of being human is constituted by defining characteristics that cannot be understood simply as biological or psychological. The traditional answer is to argue that the human soul, understood as the form or intelligibility of a living thing, enjoys a spiritual dimension. This means that, although the soul operates as a higher-level integration of the substratum of physical, chemical, biological, and psychological activities, it is in itself something more than these and relatively independent of its material basis. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Schöpfung, Geist - Buddhismus; dukkha, trishna, tanha; Ordnung der Welt als Illusion

Kurzinhalt: For the Buddhist, both the world and the self are contingent, perishable, and ever changing. The order our mind imposes on the world is part of the illusion of self, something that must be eliminated on the path to enlightenment.

Textausschnitt: A BRIEF LOOK AT BUDDHIST ANTHROPOLOGY

42c In our account of the ontological constitution of the human person in terms of bodiliness and spirit, we have defined spirit in terms of the human search for meaning, truth, and value. While human consciousness experiences a multiplicity of desires, it is the desire for meaning, truth, and value that constitutes the core of our personal human identity. This desire constitutes us as "spiritual beings," and any argument for the immortality of the soul takes as its starting point the transcendent quality of the goals of this desire. In our day-to-day experience this desire may, however, be swamped by other, lesser desires-what we will later call concupiscence. The moral life is, then, a matter of allowing our desire for meaning, truth, and value to be the core that directs all our desiring. Sadly, this is a difficult task, one that is full of failure and disappointments. (Fs)

43a Buddhism takes a different stance in relation to these matters. In the previous chapter we noted that Buddhism does not really have a concept of creation, particularly creation by God. The world is in some sense an illusion, and so too there is an illusory element to our sense of personal identity. A major issue here is the role of desire. Our desires attach us to the world, and so attach us to an illusion. Desire thus creates "unsatisfactoriness" (dukkha) or suffering. The clinging of desire creates only a larger illusion of permanence and security. (Fs)

What creates this dis-ease [i.e., dukkha] is desire (trishna, tanha), the thirst for being (bhava tanha), which grasps for an abiding some-thing to attach itself to in order to find satisfaction and establish lasting security against vulnerability and change. The irony, however, is that clinging to things which are in the final analysis only contingent and perishable-whether in the form of pleasures, possession, position, or belief-actually serves to exacerbate the suffering it intends to quell, creating further and more intense attachments that only perpetuate the wheel of samsara (rebirth) by acquiring more and more karma.1

43b For the Buddhist, both the world and the self are contingent, perishable, and ever changing. The order our mind imposes on the world is part of the illusion of self, something that must be eliminated on the path to enlightenment.

43c In this we can find both similarities and differences from Christian belief. A Christian may accept that many of our desires are in fact disordered attachments, that leave us less than fulfilled while burying us in an illusion of security. Many of our desires are disordered; they manifest what Christian tradition has called concupiscence, leading us to sin and suffering. But the Christian tradition has also recognized a deeper desire, a search for meaning, truth, and value, whose ultimate goal is union with the source of all meaning, truth, and value, that is, God. Although Christians may recognize that there are many false meanings and disordered goods that we project onto the world, they would claim that there is an objective measure of meaning and goodness inherent in the world, against which we often fail to measure up. This meaning and goodness are not illusion, but reality. This conviction is grounded in the belief in God as creator of all that is, and hence in the intrinsic meaning-fulness and goodness of creation. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Das moralisch Böse; Sünde, Stolz; moralische Impotenz

Kurzinhalt: In the end the sinner becomes addicted to sin, no longer able to resist its lure. The evil of the will invades our imaginations and awakens biological processes that seek to reproduce the pleasurable impact of the initial sin.

Textausschnitt: 3 The Structure of Moral Evil

46a IN CHAPTER 1, WE EXAMINED the problem of evil in relation to Christian belief in the goodness of creation and God's sovereign providence. In this chapter we shall explore more fully the problem of evil. It is important never to underestimate the "problem of evil." Expressed in existential categories, evil is a pervading cancer, eating away at our personal relationships, promoting lies and sin as culturally normative, turning our social institutions into instruments of naked power and personal greed, leaving the poor and starving to fend for themselves as our pollution may destroy the very possibility of biological life on the planet. No aspect of our existence is untouched by the problem of evil. We can attempt to numb its pain from our consciousness through drugs or mindless consumerism; we may deny our responsibility for its cause by pointing the finger at others' faults; we can evade responsibility for its solution by saying "what can one person do?" But in doing so we add to the problem. If we are honest, we recognize that the problem is not simply "out there" but within each one of us, to such an extent that our best efforts at a solution are themselves distorted by the problem itself. Moral effort is, of itself, not enough. (Fs) (notabene)

46b In metaphysical categories, evil is the attempt to undo God's act of creation. In his pithy way Bernard Lonergan summarizes his proof for the existence of God as follows: "If the real is completely intelligible, God exists. But the real is completely intelligible. Therefore, God exists."1 But evil threatens to cast a pall of meaninglessness over God's meaningful creation; it is an attempt to plunge the order of the cosmos into chaos. For many, the pall of evil is so great as to create doubt about the very existence of God. The problem of evil remains the greatest obstacle to faith: How can a good God allow such appalling evil? And in a sense this is right. If God exists and is good, then God is interested in resolving the problem of evil: "the question really is what God is or has been doing about the fact of evil."2

47a Before we can address this question, we shall explore further and in greater depth the nature of the problem of evil and its personal expression in sin. The moral evil of sin has multiple dimensions-personal, social, and cultural- which deserve individual treatment. (Fs)

EVIL AND PERSONAL SIN

47b In chapter 1 we introduced the notion of evil as privation and of sin as that privation of the will wherein it acts without "good reason." In chapter 2 the notion of "good reason" was further explored in terms of the search of the human spirit for meaning, truth, and value in the movement of life that we experience. Meaning, truth, and value are the foundations on which "good reasons" are built. When we act out for "good reasons," we expand the field of meaning, truth, and value, not only socially and culturally in the world but just as significantly in ourselves. Meaning, truth, and value find a permanent home within us-in classical language, we embrace the virtues. We add to human flourishing and hence to the building up of God's kingdom. We further described the task of human existence in terms of the aesthetic and dramatic project of living in the tension of transcendence and limitation, of spirit and bodiliness. Virtue lies in the mean, in the ever-moving horizon of the self-transcending subject, committed to the search for meaning, truth, and value, while remaining grounded in the movement of life, of body and affect. Or, as Aristotle says, "Virtue is a state of character concerned with choice, lying in a mean, i.e. the mean relative to us, this being determined by a rational principle, and by that principle by which the person of practical wisdom would determine it."3 There is no magic formula for determining the right course of action, just a continual commitment to authenticity, of maintaining the taut balance of transcendence and limitation, while committing oneself to the search for meaning. This is an artistic task of making oneself through engagement with the task of making the world. (Fs)

47c If virtue lies in a successful engagement with this artistic task, then vice lies in its failure. Morality is usually thought of in terms of sexual morality, the sins and temptations of the flesh, and it is clear that we can fail in our human project by rejecting the search for meaning, by sinking into the world of bodily pleasures, escaping from the demands of the spirit and the responsibilities of freedom. These pleasures need not be sexual; they can equally be the adrenalin rush of dangerous activities, of mindless thrills, drug-induced highs, or even the pleasures of shopping. None of these pleasures is necessarily evil in itself, but all can be effective strategies for avoiding the ever-pressing demands of the human spirit for meaning, truth, and value. But these are all failures in one direction, in the direction of limitation; hence, they are only one side of the catalogue of vices. (Fs)

48a However, we can fail equally in our human project by overreaching, by neglecting the reality of our bodiliness and pretending that we can "live like angels." A morality that fails to attend to this distortion tends toward the idealistic and the dualistic, viewing the body as the source of all sin. Tradition has held, however, that the source of sin lies in pride. This is a failure in the direction not of limitation but of spirit, of transcendence. Pride is the overreaching of the spirit, its attempt to claim more than its proper place. This is the sin of the first humans, succumbing to the temptation, "you will be like God" (Gen 3:5), not being content with the grounded reality of human bodily existence. Such overreaching becomes a libido dominandi, a desire to dominate, to control, often resulting in violence against the other. On the other hand, limitation denied will eventually demand recognition. For example, a denial of sexual desire, rationalized by labeling it as dirty and sinful, will eventually lead to an eruption of sexual irresponsibility, for the person simply has no way of controlling what he or she denies.4 More generally, manic overreaching will be followed by the crashing down of depression, a painful reminder of the unity of spirit and body that constitutes human existence. (Fs)

48b Another reminder of this unity is the impact of our moments of failure (sin) upon our own person, in particular on our freedom. Sin captures our freedom, sending us down a spiral of habit and eventual compulsion: Fs) (notabene)

The truth is that disordered lust springs from a perverted will; when lust is pandered to, a habit is formed; when habit is not checked, it hardens into compulsion. They were like interlinking rings forming what I have described as a chain, and my harsh servitude used it to keep me under duress. (Augustine, Confessions 8.10)5
48c In the end the sinner becomes addicted to sin, no longer able to resist its lure. The evil of the will invades our imaginations and awakens biological processes that seek to reproduce the pleasurable impact of the initial sin. Such processes can become so habitual that any attempt to resist can produce a physical response of withdrawal.6 The tradition speaks of this condition as the moral impotence of the sinner, who is non posse non peccare, not able not to sin. Sin does not completely destroy freedom but limits it to an ever-tightening circle of possibilities. Each time sinners sin, they sin freely, with the limited and distorted freedom available to them, but they are not free not to sin, not free to break though the cycle of addiction within which they are trapped. They are truly "sold into slavery under sin" (Rom 7:14). (Fs)

I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate ... Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me ... Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? (Rom 7:15,20,24)

49a We can witness the compulsive addictive power of sin in the multiple addictions that plague our society. Drugs, pornography, power, violence, greed, sexual promiscuity, and alcohol are the most obvious examples; more subtle are our attachments to consumer products, shopping, entertainment, computer games, mobile phones, and automobiles! Much of modern consumer society is based on the compulsive power of shopping and our attachment to the products that fill our marketplace. Although less destructive than promiscuity, violence, and drugs, the power of these attachments reveals an important area of unfreedom that distorts our relationships with others and trivializes our own life quest. It is not that we want "too much," as some moralizing preachers would suggest, but rather that we think we can be satisfied with so little, with baubles and trinkets, when what our heart truly desires is meaning, truth, and value. (Fs)

49b Indeed, in its own way the power of addiction is a hidden reminder of the unlimited intentionality of the human search for meaning and value. Addiction can be thought of as infinite desire of a finite object.7 To the addict nothing is more important than the object of addiction, nothing more valuable, more valuable indeed than the addict's life or those of his/her own family. Everything can and will be sacrificed on the altar of addiction. The desire of the human heart that is meant to find its fulfillment in God focuses all its energy, all its power on this finite object of addiction. In the very insanity of addiction we can learn the futility of being satisfied by anything less than God. We can also understand why biblical authors often identify sin with idolatry. In the grip of the addictive power of sin we truly are worshiping a false god. (Fs)

50a The question may arise whether addiction is indeed a "spiritual" problem, a problem of the will, of meaning and value, or is it a "medical" or "psychological" problem? Here we encounter our tendency to compartmentalize and categorize. What we have is, in fact, a single problem with spiritual, psychological, and medical dimensions. The willingness of the addict for the good is weakened; the search for meaning is disrupted, and hence there is a profound spiritual aspect to addiction. However, addicts are also subject to powerful compulsions (psychological) that can even affect them somatically (medical). Again we witness the spiritual-psychological-somatic unity of a human being. That is why serious sin should never be just "spiritualized," as if a "good" confession followed by three Hail Marys will produce lasting effects-this is perhaps apparent in the failure of church authorities to take the problem of clerical sexual abuse with the gravity it deserved. Nor should it be "psychologized," as if the problem simply required counseling and perhaps some phar-maceuticals to lower tensions and anxieties. Addictions distort and eventually break relationships, damaging families and loved ones and further isolating the addict from possible sources of help. For there to be real conversion, the addict needs to take responsibility for his or her actions, to make recompense for past hurts and to apologize for damage done.8

50b The problem of human sinfulness is not just a matter of individual choice and responsibility. Human beings are not isolated monads, cut off from the world of social and cultural forces. Indeed, some of the "addictions" we suffer, such as the overconsumption of material goods, are in fact promoted by free- market capitalism in order to "keep the economy growing." Overconsumption drives the economy, and our "addiction" to shopping is actually promoted by the advertising industry. This is not to deny individual responsibility for actions committed, but it is a reminder that our freedom is always a conditioned freedom, conditioned by our own personal stories and by the social and cultural world in which we live. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Dialektik: Transzendenz - Begrenzung; Ordnung d. Werte; soziale Werte - Dialektik: Gemeinschaftssinn - praktische Intelligenz

Kurzinhalt: To break the tension in favor of communal sense is to opt for economic, technological, and political stagnation, while to break it in favor of practical intelligence is to undermine social cohesion, ...

Textausschnitt: THE DIALECTIC OF TRANSCENDENCE AND LIMITATION

60b The preceding analysis of the nature of environmental destruction is suggestive of the fact that, just as we have a dialectic of transcendence and limitation operating within the individual person, so too there are other dialectics operating in an analogous fashion. Broadly speaking we might then conceive of evil in terms of the breakdown and distortion of these dialectics. This suggestion has been given substance in the writings of Lonergan scholar Robert Doran. The starting point of Doran's analysis is what Lonergan refers to as a hierarchical scale of values:

we may distinguish vital, social, cultural, personal and religious values in an ascending order. Vital values, such as health and strength, grace and vigour, normally are preferred to avoiding the work, privations, pains involved in acquiring, maintaining, restoring them. Social values, such as the good of order which conditions the vital values of the whole community, have to be preferred to the vital values of individual members of the community. Cultural values do not exist without the underpinning of vital and social values, but none the less they rank higher. Not by bread alone doth man live. Over and above mere living and operating, men have to find meaning and value in their living and operating. It is the function of culture to discover, express, validate, criticize, correct, develop, improve such meaning and value. Personal value is the person in his self-transcendence, as loving and being loved, as originator of value in himself and in his milieu, as an inspiration and invitation to others to do likewise. Religious values, finally, are at the heart of the meaning and value of man's living and man's world.1

61a Doran builds on Lonergan's work by analyzing three interacting dialectics that are present in the personal, cultural, and social levels of value. Since we have already considered personal sin in terms of the dialectic of transcendence and limitation, of spirit and bodiliness, I shall now turn our attention to the social and cultural levels, to shed further light on the concerns of liberation and feminist theologies. (Fs)

Social Values

61b Social values are concerned with the good of order, the distribution of political and economic power, the sense of community belonging, and communal identity. Following Lonergan, Doran sees the social level as a dialectic between spontaneous intersubjectivity, that is, our communal sense of belonging, of sharing, which Lonergan understands as the primordial ground of all human community, and practical intelligence, which consists of the economy, our technological development, and the sphere of political activity. While the dialectic tension between intersubjectivity and practical intelligence is maintained, there is a true progress, which allows for increasing economic, technological, and political complexity while respecting the intersubjective needs of human community. To break the tension in favor of communal sense is to opt for economic, technological, and political stagnation, while to break it in favor of practical intelligence is to undermine social cohesion, leading to the formation of dominant groups and what Lonergan calls "group bias" and the "shorter cycle of decline."2

62a Perhaps the recent history of Eastern Europe is illustrative of this process. Marxism stressed practical intelligence, social and economic planning, to the detriment of a communal sense of belonging. With the marked failures of an overstretched practical intelligence, evidenced in the collapse of the economy and the disintegration of political power, people are reverting to their "tribal groupings," their more basic communal identity. In this way they are seeking both to reclaim what they had lost and at the same time to dominate other competing groups, a process most evident in the Balkans. (Fs)

At a more local level, in Western societies we see the competing social values of "progress" and "community" in the battles over the construction of freeways, airports, prisons, and other products of "practical intelligence" that threaten local communities, dividing them geographically or in other ways destroying their local community lifestyle. The cry "not in my back-yard" is often not just individual self-interest. It may also be a protest against the destruction of our local communities, which are threatened by economic, technological, and political decisions made in the name of practical intelligence. (Fs)

62b From the perspective of liberation theology, the existence of a large number of poor in any society is a clear sign of the breakdown of the dialectic between practical intelligence and communal sense. That we can tolerate an economic underclass signifies that we no longer feel a sense of identity or community with them; we no longer feel connected with them, and so we no longer feel that their fate is of any concern to us. In fact their pleas for justice are now heard as a threat to the status quo, from which we benefit, and so we seek to objectify them and even demonize them, blaming them for their own poverty. The poor represent the limitation pole of the social dialectic, and our neglect of the poor implies a breakdown in the social dialectic. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Dialektik: Transzendenz - Begrenzung; kulturelle Werte - D.: kosmologische - anthropologisch fundierte Werte

Kurzinhalt: At the limitation pole of culture ... At the transcendent pole of culture there are anthropologically grounded meanings and values. Such a culture identifies the source of meaning and value in a world-transcendent source, God or reason ... To break ...

Textausschnitt: Cultural Values

62c Cultural values give us the whys and wherefores of our living. They inform us about the direction that can be found or lost in the movement of life. They are mediated to us by the stories, narratives, myths, and legends of the culture. They are discussed and criticized in philosophies, theologies, and cultural journals. They are expressed in art and popularized in the media. They exercise the critical reflective function in a society. Although we may tend to downplay the importance of this type of activity, we should never ignore the sheer power of ideas. Marx's years in the British Museum shaped the history of the twentieth century. Economic rationalism first won a handful of hearts and minds before it gained political ascendancy in Britain and the United States, and so changed the landscape of Western democracies, for better or worse. Still, the time scale of an idea is measured in decades, even centuries, and commonly we tend to undervalue ideas because they lack immediate impact. This neglect is itself an instance of what Lonergan calls "general bias," a bias against the theoretical, the long-term in favor of the practical and short-term.1 It is most evident in the omnicompetent self-assurance of the person of practical common sense who views any theoretical discussion with disdain. (Fs)

63a Doran understands the cultural level as also constituted by a dialectic of transcendence and limitation.2 At the limitation pole of culture Doran speaks of cosmologically grounded meanings and values. These view the world as an ordering that moves from the cosmos, through society, and on to the individual. The individual must align himself or herself with the society, and the society with the cosmos. Thus, for Doran:

Cosmological symbolizations of the experience of life as a movement with a direction that can be found or missed find the paradigm of order in the cosmic rhythms ... Cosmological constitutive meaning has its roots in the affective biologically based sympathy of the organism with the rhythms and process of non-human nature.3
63b The cultures of many indigenous peoples, such as Australian Aborigines, Native Americans, and Innuits, are cosmological in form, as are more recent agrarian societies. These cultures take their orderings from the rhythms of nature, the seasons, the migrations of animal herds, the cycles of planting, harvesting, birth, and death. Until the Enlightenment, cosmological symbolisms made a significant contribution to European cultures in, for example, institutions such as monarchies, which represented for many a cosmological hierarchical ordering our societies. The Christian liturgical cycle reflects elements of this, with Easter linked to the new life of spring, and Christmas marking the depths of winter, when the days begin to lengthen. (Fs)

63c At the transcendent pole of culture there are anthropologically grounded meanings and values. Such a culture identifies the source of meaning and value in a world-transcendent source, God or reason, with which the individual must align himself or herself. Society is then shaped to the needs of such aligned individuals. For an anthropological culture:

the measure of integrity is recognized as world-transcendent and as providing the standard first for the individual, whose ordered attunement to the world-transcendent measure is itself the measure of the integrity of society ... Anthropological truth is ... constitutive of history as the product of human insight, reflection and decision.4
64a Such a cultural breakthrough occurred initially in the Greek philosophical movement and has been part of our Western cultural heritage ever since. It received a major impetus during the Enlightenment and the industrial and scientific revolutions of the modern era. Again, Christianity reflects these meanings and values in its emphasis on personal responsibility in its teachings on free will and sin. (Fs)

64b To break the tension in the direction of cosmological values is to abandon humanity to a cosmologically conceived fate, where human beings are unable to take responsibility for human history. Human history is thought of as the plaything of the gods, of spirits, of "principalities, thrones, and dominations."This is not to say that such societies lack practical intelligence or that they do not change. But the power of their creative intelligence may be hidden from them by the cosmological meanings and values that dominate their lives. Where society must conform to the cosmos and the individual to society, there is little room for the recognition of personal initiative and creativity. (Fs)

64c To break the tension in the direction of anthropological values is to lose touch with the rhythms of cycles of nature, to neglect basic limitations of human existence and hence to ignore long-term issues of cultural and historical survival. At the same time there is a distortion of the transcendent pole of the dialectic that is then conceived in terms of domination and control. Lonergan refers to this distortion as "general bias," which promotes an apocalyptic "longer cycle of decline." Theoretical intelligence is subsumed under the demands of the practical, of the marketplace, of investment and its need for quick returns. Long-term problems that require theoretical investigation are neglected, and the short-term solutions proposed by practical common sense, while superficially effective in the short run, simply create more problems in the long run. The social surd accumulates to such an extent that attempted solutions become more and more desperate. "A civilization in decline digs its own grave with a relentless consistency."5

64c Much of the feminist critique of patriarchy can be read as a critique of a culture that has distorted the cultural dialectic in the direction of anthropological culture, in the direction of transcendence. It is a culture no longer cognizant of limitation, which rejects any constraint on its activities and suppresses our linkage with the rhythms and cycles of the natural order. It has led to the decimation of indigenous peoples and cultures, to exploitation of the land, and to the marginalization of women. (Fs)

65a Our analysis of both liberation and feminist theology in terms of the social and cultural dialectics should alert us to the fact that the dialectic can also be distorted in the other direction, in the direction of limitation. Societies can suppress technological, economic, and political change; they can lock themselves into a cosmological worldview that severely limits the possibilities for the development of human culture. Although this is not a commonly realized possibility, at least in the Western world, it does point to another way in which evil may be manifested in the social and cultural orders of human existence. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Erbsünde (kurze Geschichte): Paulus, Augustinus (Röm 5.12-21); Pelagius - östliche Kirche; Erlösung wovon?; Kindertaufe; Konkupiszenz; in quo omnes peccaverunt (Auslegung?)

Kurzinhalt: Since infants were not in a position to commit personal sin, baptism must be for a different type of sin, the sin of Adam, or original sin... we now know that Augustine's exegesis of Romans 5:12 is unsustainable. Modern translations reject ...

Textausschnitt: 4 Original Sin

68a THE DOCTRINE OF ORIGINAL SIN is a distinctively Christian belief. Indeed, one could argue that it is a distinctively Western Christian belief, based as it is largely on the writings and authority of Augustine and his conflict with Pelagius. Eastern Orthodox Christianity has no formal doctrine of original sin, as that form of Christianity was not shaped by the Pelagian controversy, which proved so decisive in Western self-understanding. However, not only is the doctrine distinctively Christian, but it is also a doctrine subject to serious distortion and misunderstanding. One set of problems with the doctrine arises from its linkage with an outmoded cosmology, apparently tied to a literal reading of the story of Adam and Eve in Genesis 2-3. As modern culture increasingly adopts evolutionary thought, not just in the biological sciences but as a total worldview, any such linkage makes the doctrine seem more and more unlikely. The narratives of Genesis 2-3 simply do not square with modern scientific accounts of the origins of human life. Another set of problems relates to the ways in which the doctrine can be misread as implying the total depravity of human existence apart from grace. While this pessimistic reading of the human condition had its roots in the writings of Augustine, it found more explicit expression during the Reformation, becoming a mainstay of the teachings of Martin Luther and John Calvin. (Fs)

In this chapter we shall explore something of the history of the doctrine of original sin, in the hope that this review might assist in highlighting difficulties and possible solutions to the problems it poses for the modern mind. Only then shall we present a contemporary approach that I hope is illuminating. (Fs)

BRIEF HISTORY OF THE DOCTRINE OF ORIGINAL SIN

68b Any reading of the New Testament should convince us that the fundamental starting point of Christian faith is an experience of salvation brought about through faith in Jesus Christ, through his death and resurrection. The New Testament abounds in metaphors to express the reality of that experience-it is like being sick and then being made whole (the healing salve of salvation); it is like being a slave and then having someone pay the redemption money for your release; it is like going to court expecting to be found guilty, yet being declared righteous and freed from your guilt. All these metaphors speak to us of a powerful experience of liberation, of freedom, of deliverance. Clearly the source or power of this experience is mediated to the believer by Jesus Christ, through his death and resurrection, and this became the focus of the early Christian preaching. This same experience is available to all through faith (Gal 3:28-29). It took a bit longer, however, for people to sit back and reflect more systematically on that experience and to subject it to analysis. One question that necessarily arises is, What exactly are we being saved from? The history of the doctrine of original sin is one of seeking to clarify this question. (Fs)

69a There are a number of candidates one may identify as "that from which we are saved." For example, sin, death, slavery to Satan, powers and principalities, and so on. Each of these possibilities can claim scriptural warrant. Some early church fathers developed elaborate soteriological narratives, which we shall explore in the next chapter. However, what was needed was a candidate that matched the scope of the gift involved. The redemption Jesus offers is unlimited, not tied to any group of persons. Jesus died for the rich and the poor, the good and the bad, the young and the old. But what was it that the young, especially the very young, needed to be saved from? In particular, why did the church baptize young children, even in infancy?1 (Fs) (notabene)

69b Both East and West recognized that baptism washed sinners clean from their sins. However, while the Greek fathers recognized a variety of benefits from infant baptism,2 in the western Latin church the question of infant baptism became a focal point for speaking about a different type of sin, one that was not personal sin, but one that affected all, even newborn infants. In the thought of Augustine the sin of Adam became not just the first sin in a long and sorry history of human sinfulness; it became an originating sin (originating original sin), something that affected all human beings, who are therefore tarnished from birth, born under guilt, the guilt of original sin (originated original sin). Augustine took Paul seriously when he said that baptism freed us from our slavery to sin (Rom 6:6). Since infants were not in a position to commit personal sin, baptism must be for a different type of sin, the sin of Adam, or original sin. (Fs) (notabene)

70a Augustine strengthened his position with other arguments. For example, why is there so much suffering in the world? Surely a just God would not allow such suffering, unless we deserved it. Indeed, when we are personally struck by some tragic event, one of the first things we say is, "What did I do to deserve this?," as if suffering only makes sense to us as some type of punishment. The universal plight of suffering as part of the human condition was for Augustine a sign of our original sinfulness, a just punishment for the sin of Adam. He also drew attention to our human condition of concupiscence, the disordering of our desires, particularly in the area of sexual libido. Surely such disordering was not part of God s original creation, and so once again it is a sign of our wounding by the primordial sin of Adam. Finally, Augustine drew on material from Romans 5:12-21, where Paul speaks of the impact of Adam's sin on the human condition, in particular how sin entered the world through Adam's sin. Here Augustine was dependent on the Latin translations of Jerome and others. When Augustine turned to his Latin translation of Romans 5:12-21 to develop his theology of original sin, he read the following verse:
Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death came through sin, and so death spread to all, in quo omnes peccaverunt (in whom all have sinned). (Fs)

70b The problem he faced is the significance of in quo. Following what he took to be a text from St. Ambrose (which we now know was not written by Ambrose at all but by an unknown author whom tradition has called Ambrosiaster), Augustine took in quo as a relative conjunction with its antecedent being Adam. Thus Augustine took the text to be saying that "death spread to all, in whom [Adam] all have sinned." For Augustine this is a key text for his scriptural argument for the existence of original sin. Here Paul seemed to be saying that all have sinned in Adam's sin; through some mysterious human solidarity, all are caught up in Adam's guilt. (Fs) (notabene)
70c Augustine's arguments won the day against his opponent, Pelagius, who held that the sin of Adam was purely a matter of providing bad example for the rest of us. Thus he rejected any notion of inherited sin. Pelagius accepted that baptism was for the remission of sin in adults, but for infants it was simply the rite of entry into the church. Given the weight of Augustine's arguments at the time, the church rejected the position of Pelagius and adopted its first official teaching on original sin. At the Council of Carthage (418 C.E.) Pelagius's position was condemned, and the formal link between baptism and original sin was dogmatically established. (Fs)

71a Although Augustine's arguments carried the day, they were not without their difficulties. The notion that suffering was a punishment for sin is much less persuasive in the modern era, which thinks along evolutionary lines (though it still has some "existential" appeal in our more spontaneous identification of suffering and punishment). The ancient world knew nothing of the millions of years of life, with its own toll of suffering, death, and even extinction, prior to the emergence of human life. All this suffering could not be laid at the feet of human sinfulness, and in his exploration of concupiscence Augustine blurred the distinction between two differing issues of human existence-sinfulness and finitude. In book 1 of the Confessions Augustine understands the cries of a baby for its mother's milk as signifying its inherent sinfulness:

Who can recall to me the sins I committed as a baby? For in your sight no man is free from sin, not even a child who has lived only one day on earth. Who can show me what my sins were? ... Was it a sin to cry when I wanted to feed at the breast? I am too old now to feed on mother's milk, but if I were to cry for some kind of food suited to my age, others would rightly laugh me to scorn and remonstrate with me. So then too I deserved a scolding for what I did; but since I could not have understood the scolding, it would have been unreasonable, and most unusual, to rebuke me. (1.7)3

71b Today we would understand such behavior purely in developmental terms. Most importantly, we now know that Augustine's exegesis of Romans 5:12 is unsustainable. Modern translations reject Augustine's translation of in quo as "in whom all have sinned" and replace it with a simpler explanation: "death has come to all, because all have sinned."4 Perhaps the main element that remains from Augustine's case is the church's practice of baptizing infants. (Fs) (notabene)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Erbsünde: Mittelalter; Sünde - Gnade; Ur- Gerechtigkeit; Konkupiszenz: Augustinus (K. nach der Taufe) - Thomas (K. ungeordnet in Relation zur Ur-Gerechtigkeit)

Kurzinhalt: ... central to this speculative development was the emergence of a distinction between grace and nature, where grace is "supernatural," beyond what can be achieved by "nature" conceived of as a metaphysical principle of being.

Textausschnitt: 71c The Middle Ages witnessed the beginning of a more speculative exploration of the notion of original sin. As we shall see in a later chapter, central to this speculative development was the emergence of a distinction between grace and nature, where grace is "supernatural," beyond what can be achieved by "nature" conceived of as a metaphysical principle of being. According to this view, human nature remains substantially constant before and after the fall, for if there were a substantial change in human nature we would simply cease to be human. What differs is not human nature per se but the overall relationship of human beings to God and divine grace. Significantly, the scholastic theologians of the Middle Ages conceived of Adam and Eve as the recipients of a special grace, which they called "original justice," prior to their first sin. This grace ordered their passions to their will and their will to God. Because of this special grace Adam and Eve could do more than nature itself could achieve on its own. After the fall, however, they lost this original justice. Their passions were no longer ordered by their will, and they experienced concupiscence. This position is significantly different from that of Augustine. For Augustine, concupiscence is the disordering of the passions that arises from original sin, and at times is even equated with original sin. For Aquinas, concupiscence is the natural state to which the passions are returned when human beings are deprived of original justice. In a state of pure nature, which "historically" never existed, the desires are not disordered but unordered. The ordering of the passions is the moral task of self-constitution, through the practice of the virtues. The passions can be thought of as disordered only relative to their supernatural ordering in the state of original justice. (Fs) (notabene)

72a This speculative advance allowed Aquinas to solve a problem of Augustine's position. Augustine found it difficult to distinguish between concupiscence and original sin itself, because of his confusion between the problem of finitude and the problem of sin. [eg: der vorige Satz ab "because" ist unklar] He thus found it difficult to explain why concupiscence remained after baptism, which in faith he believed removed original sin. Aquinas, on the other hand, spoke of concupiscence as the "material" component of original sin. Its "formal" component, however, is our lack of original justice, caused by the fall of Adam (ST I-IIq. 82, a. 3). People may suffer to a greater or lesser extent from concupiscence, but in every case the formal component or meaning is the same-it is the absence of original justice (ST I-II q. 82, a. 4). Moreover, one may remove the formal component, for example, through baptism, bringing the gift of sanctifying grace; though the material component (concupiscence) remains, it no longer has the same "formal" meaning. Concupiscence is only "disordered" relative to the supernatural gift of grace; otherwise it is simply a lack of order, an order to be imposed through the growth of natural and supernatural virtues, through a process of moral maturation. (Fs) (notabene)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Erbsünde; Reformation - Trient; simul justus et peccator; Luther, Calvin (versteckter Dualismus) - Konzil von Trient

Kurzinhalt: For Calvin we are "perverted and corrupted in all the parts of our nature," and "therefore cannot but be odious and abominable to God." ... The "middle ground" so carefully carved out by the scholastics with their notion of human "nature" has been ...

Textausschnitt: 72b This solution to the unresolved dilemma posed by Augustine's position on original sin allowed the church to affirm the goodness of the natural order, and of human nature in particular (Gen 1:31). This goodness could not be erased by the fall, and so humans could still strive to do the good. The drive to search for meaning, truth, and value remains in every human being, though because of concupiscence it may be swamped by other, more powerful drives and desires and so become ineffective in shaping the direction of our lives. However, the solution of the scholastics was not the only way to resolve the dilemma left by Augustine. Another solution was simply to identify finitude with evil, through the identification of concupiscence with original sin. [er: genaus das--die Identifikation von Erbsünde und Endlichkeit--schreibt er oben Augustinus zu] Since concupiscence remains after baptism, the sinner is not truly regenerate but remains a sinner through and through. The person is simul justus et peccator, simultaneously just and sinner. Human justice is not ours; rather it is an alien, imputed justice that remains incapable of eradicating our intrinsic orientation to evil. This was the solution posited by Martin Luther, the great initiator of the Reformation. Luther rejected what he understood of the, scholastic notion that original sin was merely a lack or privation of original justice. To accept such a position would "give occasion for lukewarmness and a breakdown of the whole concept of penitence, indeed to implant pride and presumptuous-ness, to eradicate fear of God, to outlaw humility, to make the command of God invalid, and thus condemn it completely."1 For Luther, original sin is not merely a privation of original justice but more a positive inclination to evil. It is "a propensity towards evil... a nausea towards the good, a loathing of light and wisdom, and a delight in error and darkness, a flight from and abomination of all good works, a pursuit of evil."2 The other great reformer, John Calvin, concurs with Luther on this point:

Hence, those who have defined original sin as the want of the original righteousness which we ought to have had, though they substantially comprehend the whole case, do not significantly enough express its power and energy. For our nature is not only utterly devoid of goodness, but so prolific in all kinds of evil, that it can never be idle.3

73a For Calvin we are "perverted and corrupted in all the parts of our nature," and "therefore cannot but be odious and abominable to God."4 There is no escape from such a condition because it has effectively become equated with our creaturely status. It remains even after baptism. The "middle ground" so carefully carved out by the scholastics with their notion of human "nature" has been eradicated so that anything that falls outside the realm of grace is viewed as thoroughly sinful.5 (Fs)

74a Such a pessimistic anthropology has more than a suggestion of dualism to it. It is only avoided by the assertion of the absolute sovereignty of God, to such an extent that God almost becomes the author of human evil. For Luther, God appears to be the author of both salvation and sin;
Since then God moves and actuates all in all, he necessarily moves and acts also in Satan and ungodly man ... Here you see that when God works in and through evil men, evil things are done, and yet God cannot act evilly although he does evil through evil men, because one who is himself good cannot act evilly, yet he uses evil instruments that cannot escape the sway and motion of his omnipotence.6

74b This was not a position that the Catholic Church felt it could tolerate. The Council of Trent reaffirmed key elements of the scholastic position. In its decrees on justification and original sin it condemned several aspects of Luther's teaching. It affirmed the real regeneration of the sinner through grace:

If anyone shall say that men are justified either by the sole imputation of the justice of Christ or by the sole remission of sins, to the exclusion of the grace and the charity that is poured forth in their hearts by the Holy Spirit and remains in them, or also that the grace by which we are justified is only the good will of God-anathema sit. (DS 1561; also see DS 1515 below)

74c The council rejected the identification of original sin with concupiscence:

If anyone deny that the guilt of original sin is remitted by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ conferred in baptism or assert that everything that has the true and proper nature of sin is not taken away but is erased or not reckoned-anathema sit... The Holy Council, however, knows and confesses that there remains in those who have been baptized concupiscence or the inclination to sin ... of this concupiscence which the Apostle occasionally calls "sin" this Holy Council declares that the Catholic Church has never understood its being called sin in the sense of real and actual sin.... (DS 1515)

74d The council further rejected any notion that God has any responsibility for the sins of the sinner:
If anyone shall say that it is not in man's power to make his ways evil, but that the works that are evil as well as those that are good God produces, not only permissively but proprie et per se, so that the treason of Judas is not less his own proper work than the vocation of St Paul-anathema sit. (DS 1556)7

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Erbsünde - Evolution; Monogenismus

Kurzinhalt: For many Christians, belief in original sin was so tied to a premodern worldview that they could not see how the two could be separated.

Textausschnitt: 75a These two opposing positions became firmly entrenched in post-Reformation polemics. Nonetheless, some Catholic movements, such as Jansenism, adopted elements of Luther's pessimistic anthropology,1 while some of the reformers, notably the Wesley brothers, rejected Luther's pessimism to acknowledge a real transformation in the life of believers. For example, John Wesley attacked the notion of imputed righteousness as "a blow at the root of all holiness, all true religion ... for wherever this doctrine is cordially received, it leaves no place for holiness."2 These variations aside, the Council of Trent established a dogmatic foundation for a Catholic understanding of original sin well into the twentieth century. It took the major cultural upheaval of evolution to bring new questions to the fore. The difficulty with the teaching of the Council of Trent, particularly on original sin, is not so much the questions the council fathers addressed but the unquestioned assumptions from which they operated. (Fs)

75b The unquestioned assumptions drawn from a premodern worldview tended to take the opening chapters of Genesis as a literal account of human origins. The teaching of Trent simply assumed such a reading since this was not the object of contention between the Catholic Church and the reformers. There was no reason at this stage why these assumptions should have been questioned. With the emergence of Darwin's theory of evolution, however, and the geological and cosmological evidence that the time scale for the world stretched beyond the thousands of years of the biblical narrative (taken literally) to reach millions and even billions of years, a literal reading of the biblical narrative became increasingly untenable. From an evolutionary perspective it is highly unlikely that human beings all descended from an original first couple (a position referred to as monogenism), or that they enjoyed an idyllic period in a plentiful garden. Genetically, human beings share a common ancestry with primates, and the first recognizably modern humans seem to have emerged from the plains of Africa. Then there was a period of tens of thousands of years before settled agrarian communities emerged and culture became more than rock art and primitive stone tools. The question that Christian theology faces is, Where in all this history of human existence does the traditional understanding of original sin fit?

76a For many Christians, belief in original sin was so tied to a premodern worldview that they could not see how the two could be separated. They were left with a simple set of alternatives. They could reassert the premodern worldview and reject the emerging insights of science, and hence was born so-called "creation science." This position clings to a literal reading of Genesis, rejects evolution, and takes Genesis 3 as relating "historical" events.3 Alternatively, they could simply reject the doctrine of original sin altogether as an Augustinian error imposed on Christianity and distorting its true meaning. Such an approach can be found in some works on "creation spirituality," as proposed by Matthew Fox, and among some liberal Protestant theologians.4

76b A number of Christian thinkers have attempted to integrate evolutionary perspectives into their theology, notably Pierre Teilhard de Chardin and Karl Rahner.5 Church authorities have viewed these attempts with caution, to say the least. In 1909 the Pontifical Biblical Commission reasserted the "historical" nature of the early chapters of Genesis, though the church later moved away from a literal reading of Scripture when it officially endorsed elements of modern biblical historical criticism, notably with the encyclical Divino Afflante Spiritu (1943). In 1950 Pius XII issued the encyclical Humani Generis, which, among other things, attempted to defend the position of monogenism on the ground that it was a necessary element in the traditional understanding of original sin. Now there seems to be less anxiety about this question, and Pope John Paul II offered cautious acceptance of evolution as a scientific hypothesis of human origins. Indeed, various theologians have adopted non-monogenistic theories of original sin without comment by church authorities.6

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Dialektik (Individuum): Transzendieren - Begrenzung ; der menschliche Geist

Kurzinhalt: To cut off from the transcendence of spirit is to surrender oneself to the rhythms of the psyche, leading to depression and psychosis. To deny the limitation of matter and psyche, to live "like angels," is to invite escape into manic fantasy.

Textausschnitt: Spirit and the Search for Meaning

31a Rather than begin with a definition, I would like to focus on a basic experience of life as identified by theologian Robert Doran. Doran speaks of our human life project as existential and aesthetic, a dramatic living out of the tension of spirit and matter. He speaks of this project as "the search for direction in the movement of life."1 We are all caught up in the movement of life, the day-to-day events, the major upheavals, as well as our own feelings in response to these events. In this confluence of inner affect and outer events we seek some sense of direction, of purpose, of meaning to guide our lives. Simply to drift, to be carried along by events, to be overwhelmed by our own feelings, anxieties, fears, or even our exhilarations is to lead a diminished life. We need purpose and direction. That which searches for direction, that which yearns for purpose and meaning, that principle which is within us is the human spirit. Doran would speak of this tension between spirit and matter as a dialectic of transcendence and limitation. To cut off from the transcendence of spirit is to surrender oneself to the rhythms of the psyche, leading to depression and psychosis. To deny the limitation of matter and psyche, to live "like angels," is to invite escape into manic fantasy. In a similar vein Aquinas criticized the Cathars for forgetting their human nature in their rejection of bodiliness (Summa contra Gentiles book 3, ch. 119); Aquinas always stressed the need for intellect to "turn to the phantasm [i.e., imagination]" for its proper operation (STl q. 76, a. 2; q. 79 a. 4). (Fs)

31b And so we might argue that the human spirit is that which searches, that which explores, and what it searches for are meaning, truth, and value. This is not a search with the eyes-we open our eyes to search the horizon; but this is not the type of search we are talking about. This is not an exploration that begins with a single physical step, putting our best foot forward. Rather it begins with questions: What am I to do? Where is my life heading? What am I to make of myself? There is something basic about these questions. German theologian Karl Rahner suggests that we cannot "question the question," in the sense that the question is indubitable, beyond doubt.2 To question questioning is simply to affirm the reality of questioning by raising yet another question. (Fs)

32a But there is something more basic, more primordial than the question. The question is a verbal expression, but behind the question is something more elemental. It is a hunger, a thirst, a wonder, an awe, and a desire. It is a desire for meaning, truth, and value. Simply as desire, it knows no limits. Whenever someone tries to say, "so far but no farther, your search for meaning must end here and now" we can rebel and say, "Why?" Our questioning transcends any arbitrary limits. Inasmuch as our desire bears fruit in finding meaning, truth, and value, it grows in confidence and surety that the cosmos is meaningful, not deceptive, and worthy of our love. Inasmuch as our desire is frustrated in its search we grow more and more anxious, more desperate for meaning, latching onto whatever passing fad catches our attention. Or we may despair of any possibility of meaning, truth, and value. The universe becomes an empty void, meaningless, deceptive, and unlovable. (Fs)

32b So we may think of the human spirit as that within us which desires meaning, truth, and value as the sources for direction in the movement of life; it is a desire that potentially encompasses everything and so is not limited by materiality. Still, in practice we often truncate the human spirit's search to the immediate, the commonplace. We remain satisfied with the limited reach o£ the present and ignore the breadth and depth of our primordial desire. Is this desire within us nothing more than a cosmic joke, a freak of evolutionary nature? Is our unlimited desire for meaning, truth, and value forever to be frustrated in an indifferent or even hostile universe? Or is there something or someone who can fulfill that desire? Is there someone who is so meaning-full, so truth-full, and so full of value that in this one and this one alone our spirit finds its true rest? Indeed, is our spirit simply a pale reflection of that greater Spirit, a dim echo, a sheer potential for what is fully realized in that greater Spirit? And is our desire not simply a plea into the void but in fact a call from that greater Spirit? For then we are not alone in our search, but we are actively engaged by the greater Spirit. We do not just seek that Spirit; that Spirit draws us on, as a partner and friend. This is something of what Aquinas meant when he called the human intellect a "created participation" in the divine intellect (STI q. 84, a. 5). (Fs)

33a Do other higher mammals-higher primates or dolphins-also share in this spiritual dimension? People who study animal behavior often point out the similarities between human behaviors and those of other higher mammals. Is this proof of their intelligence or of our animality? Are other animals simply conditioned by instinct and biological drives, or do they also search for meaning and value? While there are some intimations evident in some higher primates in some situations, there is little evidence that such a search is the central concern of their existence, as it is in the case of human beings. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Geist - Freiheit; Freiheit der Wahl

Kurzinhalt: Although the desire is an intrinsic element of our existence, our response to that desire is not automatic. It engages us as free beings, ...

Textausschnitt: Spirit and Freedom

33b Human freedom is an important element of our spiritual nature. The search for meaning, truth, and value is not blind or random; rather it is intelligent and responsible. Although the desire is an intrinsic element of our existence, our response to that desire is not automatic. It engages us as free beings, and so we become accountable for the quality of our response to this intrinsic desire. We can engage with energy, dedication, and drive, or we can disengage, lose ourselves in trivialities, or just despair of the possibility of finding meaning, truth, and vlaue. (Fs)

33c To conceive of human freedom in this way requires that we question the dominant conception of freedom as "freedom of choice." In our consumer-driven world we tend to think of freedom in terms of the multiple choices that we have, the range of options we can exercise. But when we examine these choices, most of them concern trivialities. Having twenty different types of breakfast cereal does not make us more free. In fact, a multiplicity of trivial choices can distract us from the real task of our freedom, to seek direction in the movement of life. For the object of our decision making is not just the things "out there" that we choose; a more important object of our decision making is ourselves. Freedom is an act of self-constitution, the self as constituting itself through the decisions that it makes. The direction that I seek is one on which I take myself-shall I become more generous, more open, more loving, more responsible? Do I embrace virtue or succumb to vice? Every decision I make shapes me, constitutes me in some way, for better or worse. (Fs)

33d Finally, our search for direction, and the freedom that it generates, is never absolute or unconditioned. We live in a world that sets the basic parameters of our search, that structures the options we can choose, prior to anything we might do or hope for. There are a variety of limits and constraints that render the effective reach of our freedom much less than its essentially unlimited intentionality.1 Our search for direction is always located within a history of other searches from which we can learn, to which we adhere, or which we explicitly reject. We are not just isolated individuals; we are constituted as social and historical beings. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Erbsünde - Theologie heute; Ätiologie, 4 Grundaussagen (von Anfang an, Ursprung nicht in Gott, Ausweitung, Erlösung); Exegeten vs. Augustinus: Rom 5:12; Rahner

Kurzinhalt: ... the story of the fall in Genesis 3 is an etiological myth for the origins of sin and suffering in what we believe to be a good creation. It expresses in mythological terms four important truths: 1. Sin has been part of the human story ...

Textausschnitt: CONTEMPORARY REFLECTION ON ORIGINAL SIN

77a Today most biblical scholars would argue that the literary form of the material in Genesis 2-3 is myth. This is not to say that it is untrue, but this identifies the literary form through which the biblical truth is conveyed. There are clear mythological elements in the story-the tree of life, the tree of knowledge, the serpent, the angel guarding the way back to Eden-that need to be read according to the canons of myth, not legendary or historical narrative. In particular, the story of the fall in Genesis 3 is an etiological myth for the origins of sin and suffering in what we believe to be a good creation. It expresses in mythological terms four important truths:
1. Sin has been part of the human story "from the beginning," however that beginning might be measured. There is no time in human history when we have not suffered from the problem of evil. (Fs)

2. The origin of sin lies not in God or in some cosmic struggle between good and evil, but in human actions and decision. Seeking to shift the blame onto someone or something else is in fact part of the problem of sin itself. (Fs)
3. Once sin enters into the human story its effects spread and grow leaving no one untouched by its consequences. "From the beginning" no one can claim exemption or claim to be untouched by sin. (Fs)
4. Despite the fact of human sinfulness, God has not abandoned human beings to their fate. Rather, God continues to care for them and work for their good (Gen 3:21)

77b The Genesis account of itself does not necessarily imply any inherited sin or guilt, but it does suggest that the consequences of sin extend well beyond the individual who sins. No precise content can be assigned to the nature of any primal sin, though Rene Girard has pointed to persistent and widespread mythological accounts of a primal murder, as is narrated in Genesis 4, the story of Cain and Abel.1

77c Similarly, Scripture scholars find little merit in Augustine's interpretation of Romans 5:12 as providing a basis for any notion of inherited sin or guilt. Rather than positing a primal sin in Adam, in whom we all sin through some mysterious human solidarity, they tend to see a fairly factual statement that we all sin, and because we have all sinned, death has spread to all (on the connection between sin and death, see chapter 8). Further, they emphasize the christological context of Paul's argument, which highlights not the sin of Adam but the overwhelming gift of grace brought about by the obedience of Jesus Christ.2

78a Similarly, systematic theologians have sought to understand the doctrine of original sin in new ways that are not tied to a premodern worldview. We shall consider three approaches before presenting a further refinement on this difficult topic. (Fs)

Dutch theologian Alfred Vanneste has suggested that we should think of original sin simply in terms of the universality of actual sin.3 The universality of sin is simply a brute fact that finds no extra explanation in terms of a prior condition or inclination to sin in the person. We need to look for nothing deeper in our understanding of the traditional teaching. Such a position eliminates any specific notion of original sin per se, and it seems difficult to reconcile with church teachings that distinguish original sin from actual sin, particularly those that refer to the baptism of infants. (Fs)

78b Karl Rahner, on the other hand, has suggested that we should think of original sin as an existential, that is, a permanent element, of human consciousness, an empirical given that constitutes our concrete human existence. Using his distinction between the transcendental and the historical, Rahner sees original sin in terms of the deprivation of sanctifying grace which was meant to be mediated historically by the "first man," Adam, taken here as representative of the first human beings. This failure in the historical mediation of grace results in a sinful situation, or "sin of the world,"into which all human persons are born. This is the way in which original sin is propagated to all human beings. As an existential, original sin should be identified not in terms of a human history of sinfulness but in terms of the impact of that history on human consciousness. Moreover, it is not the only such existential for Rahner, for there is also the supernatural existential, which orients us dynamically to God. The history of humanity is, then, the struggle and conflict between these two existentials.4

78c A fruitful approach, adopted by British theologian Sebastian Moore, has been to explore the impact of the history of sinfulness of human consciousness through the categories of modern psychology.5 This is the approach I shall be following in the section below. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Erbsünde - universale Opferrolle; Beispiele: Thomas (Familienschande);

Kurzinhalt: The heart of the doctrine of original sin is arguably a statement about the universal victimhood of humankind. It is saying that in one way or another we are all the victims of another's (i.e., Adam's) sin.

Textausschnitt: ORIGINAL SIN AS OUR UNIVERSAL VICTIMHOOD

79a As we have already seen, there are many elements of the doctrine of original sin that have become part of our dogmatic tradition: debates about monogenism versus evolution, propagation versus imitation, notions of original justice, concupiscence, and so on. All these have their place; however, they can tend to obscure the key tension of the doctrine. The doctrine attempts to take a path between a position that understands the human condition as substantially affected by evil, trapped in an ontologically determined fate, a position we could label as Manichean, and a moral individualism that sees us each as the sole creator of our own drama, a position we could label as Pelagian.1

79b In order to mediate between these two unacceptable alternatives I want to focus on the basic elements of the story, the narrative of original sin. At its most basic level, I would state it thus:

1. Adam sinned (however we may understand this). From the beginning of human history sin has been part of our condition. (Fs)

2. Because of Adam's sin, we all suffer (however this suffering may be conceived). Sin has its consequences, not just for the one who sins but for all those around. (Fs)

About such a simple restatement there would perhaps be little debate. The question is, what conclusions do we and should we draw? I would like to argue that the simplest and most obvious conclusion would be as follows:
3. We are all the victims of Adam's sin. (Fs)

79c The heart of the doctrine of original sin is arguably a statement about the universal victimhood of humankind. It is saying that in one way or another we are all the victims of another's (i.e., Adam's) sin. (Fs)

79d I think that simply to state it in these terms is an important shift. The doctrine of original sin says that, prior to sinning, we are first and foremost sinned against. To be sinned against is to be a victim of another's sin. To be sinned against, especially in early childhood, is to enter into a condition of human brokenness, an interior shattering or distortion of consciousness that muddies our search for direction in the movement of life. To be sinned against in this way, to be thus broken, is the prior state that inclines us all to personal sins of our own. It is the weakness that undermines us; it creates what Sebastian Moore calls our inner "wobble," a weakened sense of our own worth, which inclines us, with a statistical inevitability, to sin.2

80a Vatican I enjoined theologians to find analogies for the mysteries of faith (DS 3016). On original sin Thomas Aquinas proposed an analogy of the family shame for a criminal forebear (ST I-II q. 18, a. 1). Such shame is real and has a real impact on the lives of those who come after. I would propose another analogy, one drawn more from contemporary literature and experience. The simplest analogy to the above interpretation of original sin is the situation of an abused child. The abused child is, first and foremost, sinned against. He or she is the victim of the parent's cruelty, however that may be expressed, physically, sexually, or emotionally. The consequences in the life of the child are frequently-unless there is some loving intervention by an "enlightened witness" (according to therapist Alice Miller)3-a life of sin, a repeated compulsion of violence toward, and abuse of, others and/or oneself, or some other of the myriad symptoms of a damaged sense of self-worth.4 Such sin is propagated from parent to child, to the seventh generation, and even beyond. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Erbsünde - Judentum, Islam

Kurzinhalt: Islam, too, rejects any notion of original sin and correlatively any notion of salvation brought about by Jesus ... From a Christian perspective both of these positions are structurally similar to each other and to the position of Pelagius. They both ...

Textausschnitt: ORIGINAL SIN AND OTHER RELIGIOUS WORLDVIEWS

87c As we noted at the beginning of this discussion on original sin, the starting point for our Christian belief in original sin is fundamentally an experience of salvation, brought about by the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. We only really know what we have been saved from (original sin) in the light shone on human experience through the event of salvation. If this is correct, then one would really expect an account of original sin only within Christian belief. Indeed, without some account of original sin the whole account of salvation begins to lose coherence. (Fs)

If we turn our attention, then, to the two religious worldviews closest to Christianity-those of Judaism and Islam-it should come as no surprise that neither of these religions has a belief in original sin, though both share something of the founding narrative of Genesis 3. (Fs)

87d Judaism directly shares the biblical narrative of Genesis 3 with Christianity, but completely rejects any notion that the actions of Adam and Eve constitute a sin whose effects include guilt for the rest of humankind. Judaism is a religion built on the notion of obedience-obedience to the Torah, the will of God proclaimed by the Jewish Law. The doctrine of original sin undermines this central concept by casting doubt on our human ability to fulfill the Law. Original sin appears to teach that each person is born guilty and incapable of pleasing God without some saving "grace" earned for us by Jesus. Judaism recognizes that there are evil inclinations in human beings, but these inclinations do not constitute sin or guilt. There is no sense in Judaism that the promised Messiah will earn forgiveness of sins for other human beings (vicarious satisfaction). (Fs) (notabene)

88a Islam, too, rejects any notion of original sin and correlatively any notion of salvation brought about by Jesus. In Islam each person is responsible for his or her own actions, and each person must seek forgiveness directly from Allah for sins committed. While there are holy persons and teachers in Islam, there is no priesthood, no sense of mediation of the divine, for each believer can directly approach Allah. Muslims tend to read the Christian position on original sin as implying that human beings are basically evil, which is more the Reformed position than the Catholic one. For Muslims, all human beings are essentially good and only need forgiveness for sins they actually commit. (Fs) (notabene)

88b From a Christian perspective both of these positions are structurally similar to each other and to the position of Pelagius. They both stress personal responsibility and a sense of complete freedom of action. They do not seek to shift the blame to someone else, particularly some ancient ancestor. One has to ask, however, whether human freedom can bear the weight of this responsibility? We know, for example, the ways in which freedom can be compromised by addictions, or by a history of abuse. Do these religions allow for a recognition of this compromised freedom? Do they recognize that "the world breaks everyone"? Can they show compassion for human weakness (Heb 4:15)? Or must we bear the full brunt of all our bad decisions?

88c This is not to say that Christian belief in original sin eliminates any sense of personal responsibility. Indeed, the path of repentance will mean learning to take real responsibility for one's actions, seeking to repair damage done, and to avoid sin in the future. But mixed with this is a realistic recognition that this is no simple task, because the primary damage done is to our freedom itself, which has been weakened, though not destroyed. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Erlösung - NT; Jesus, Ursache des Todes - Antworten (NT-Stellen); Urs von Balthasar (5 Elemente): Versöhnung, Sühne (pro nobis), Befreiung, Teilnahme am trinitarischen Leben, Liebe; Evangelien: Königreich Gottes -> Widerstand -> Abendmahl

Kurzinhalt: destroy him, discrediting his teaching and his mission (Mark 3:6). These two accounts of Jesus' death, one highly theologized, and the other embedded in a historical narrative, sit side by side, barely making contact in the consciousness of many ...

Textausschnitt: 5 Jesus and the Story of Redemption

90a IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER we explored the notion of original sin, both in its traditional formulations and in a modern reformulation. As we noted, central to the development of the doctrine of original sin is the question, from what are we saved? Christianity began as an experience of salvation. Central to that salvation were the mission, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Those events transformed lives in powerful and unexpected ways, for example, the conversion of Paul. Yet the early church and the subsequent history of reflection on these experiences have found it difficult to give expression to how it is that Jesus' death and resurrection are saving events. Just as the language of original sin draws on mythological thought forms, so too does the language of salvation (soteriology). In this chapter we shall explore the experience and language of salvation, in its biblical, traditional, and more contemporary forms. In doing so we should never sever the connection between the language of salvation and the language of original sin, for they remain always intimately connected. (Fs)

THE NEW TESTAMENT WITNESS

90b Let us begin with a simple question: Why did Jesus die? When we turn to the New Testament witness apart from the Gospels, particularly the letters of Paul, we find a variety of symbols and metaphors for trying to understand the death of Jesus. Jesus' death is redemptive, the offering of a ransom, a sacrifice (Eph 5:2; Heb 9:26), a sin offering (Rom 3:25), bringing about a reconciliation with God; it is the result of a struggle with principalities and powers (Eph 6:12), with death itself (1 Cor 15:26), resulting in the restoration of what was lost by Adam, and so on. On the other hand, when we read the Gospels themselves, we find a fairly grubby story of power and politics, of enemies and rivalries, of people who very early in the ministry of Jesus set out to destroy him, discrediting his teaching and his mission (Mark 3:6). These two accounts of Jesus' death, one highly theologized, and the other embedded in a historical narrative, sit side by side, barely making contact in the consciousness of many Christians. One of the challenges of contemporary soteriology is to bring these two accounts into meaningful contact. (Fs)
91a Let us begin with a focus on the religious language we associate with the death of Jesus. Rather than attempt a comprehensive account, I shall make use of a summary presented by Hans Urs von Balthasar of five elements that are discernible in the New Testament witness of salvation, and to which any account must relate in some way or other.1

1. The work of reconciliation is achieved through the act of the Son "giving himself up," allowing himself to be handed over, to the point of the "shedding of blood."This shedding of blood "is understood as the atoning (Rom 3:25), justifying (Rom 5:9) and purifying factor (1 John 1:7; Rev 7:14) at all levels of the New Testament."

2. This act of "giving himself up" is "for us," pro nobis, to the extent of "exchanging places with us," so that Jesus becomes sin (2 Cor 5:21) and a "curse" (Gal 3:13). "On the basis of this exchange of place, we are already 'reconciled to God' (Rom 5:18) in advance of our own consent, 'while we were yet sinners.'" We have died with Christ and are risen with him; we must now become what we are. (Fs)

3. Reconciliation involves being liberated from something: from slavery to sin (Rom 7; John 8:34); from the devil (John 8:44; 1 John 3:8); from principalities and powers (Col 2:20); from the law (Rom 7:1); from the wrath to come (1 Thess 1:10). This liberation comes at a high cost or ransom, that is, through the blood of Christ (1 Cor 6:20). It is a propitiation producing an eternal redemption (Heb 9:12). (Fs)

4. However, more is involved than just a liberation or restoration of lost freedom; there is also being drawn into the trinitarian life of God, becoming adopted sons and daughters (Gal 4:6), receiving the gift of the Holy Spirit poured into our hearts (Rom 5:5). We become sharers in the divine nature (2 Pet 1:4). (Fs)

5. While there are numerous references to "God's anger," the entire reconciliation process is the result of God's merciful love; it is because of the love of the Father (Rom 8:39) and the love of Christ (Rom 8:35) that Christ was given up for us. Everything flows from this one source, divine love. (Fs)

91b Three things should be noted from this summary by Balthasar. First, salvation is a rich notion, not something to be reduced to just one of the aspects that he identifies. It is not only salvation "from," but also salvation "for," in particular for our participation in the divine life. Second, the source, impulse, and initiative of salvation come from God, who is first and foremost a God of salvation, not condemnation. Finally, despite the power of this summary, it makes almost no contact with the story of Jesus' own life as narrated in the Gospels. (Fs)

92a When we turn to the Gospels we find an equally rich account of a life focused on proclaiming the Kingdom of God. Jesus begins his mission with a call to repent and an announcement of the closeness of the Kingdom (Mark 1:15). He manifests the Kingdom through the power of his miracles, restoring people to a fullness of life and participation in the community, and through his symbolic actions such as table fellowship with public sinners (Matt 11:19). The Kingdom of God becomes the defining symbol of Jesus' mission, a kingdom of reconciliation of people with one another and with God. Jesus' preaching about the Kingdom speaks of reaching out to those at the margins, the poor, the sick, the ones who are lost. All are invited to enter the kingdom, so that even tax collectors and prostitutes are "entering the Kingdom" (Matt 21:32). So powerful is the coming of the Kingdom that even the gates of hell cannot hold out against it (Matt 16:18). Hell itself is under siege.2

92b Yet, inexplicably, this message of forgiveness, inclusiveness, and reconciliation almost immediately provokes resistance (Mark 3:6 and parallels). Jesus' preaching, his miracles, and symbolic actions are unsettling the established religious, political, and social world. He preaches with authority, not like the other religious leaders, and his word of command has the power to expel demons (Mark 1:27; 5:1-20), as even his opponents acknowledge (Mark 3:22). As his mission continues, Jesus encounters growing resistance to his message, and he becomes increasingly strident in his condemnation of the religious leaders of the people (Matt 23:1-39). His own fate at their hands becomes increasingly clear to him and poses a major dilemma for the continuation of his mission. Does he avoid conflict, perhaps modify his actions or his preaching, so that he may continue to actively proclaim the Kingdom, if in more muted form? Or does he find a way to incorporate his predictable fate into the very heart of his mission (Mark 8:31-33)? Can Jesus make his otherwise meaningless fate at the hands of the religious and political authorities something that is full of meaning, a manifestation of the Kingdom of God, in all its powerlessness and power, its strength and weakness?

92c The most significant indication we have that Jesus sought to integrate his fate into the very fabric of his mission is found in the Last Supper narratives. Drawing on themes from the Old Testament, Jesus speaks of his death as initiating a new covenant, to be achieved through the spilling of his blood, his imminent death. His death is a death for others, for the forgiveness of sin "for many" (see Mark 14:22-25). In the words and actions of Jesus at the Last Supper we can find the seeds of the meaning placed on Jesus' death by Paul (notably Rom 3:24-5) and the other authors of the New Testament (e.g., Heb 7:26-27). It is in the intent of Jesus that the two sides of our response to the question, Why did Jesus die? find their point of intersection. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Erlösung - frühe Kirche; Irenäus (Inkarnation hinreichend für E.), Tertullian (Lösegeld), Origenes

Kurzinhalt: Each has a certain existential appeal; each invites us to explore an aspect of salvation. But if and when we switch to a more explanatory mode of thinking, each also resists an easy systematization.

Textausschnitt: EARLY CHURCH IMAGES FOR REDEMPTION

93a While the historical narrative of Jesus' conflict with authorities and their part in his execution remained available through the canonical Gospels, it is clear that subsequent theological reflection on the nature of Jesus' death was far more interested in the images found in the other writings of the New Testament as a source of inspiration. (Fs)

93b Irenaeus (second century C.E.), for example, develops the Pauline notion of recapitulation (see Eph 1:10). Working on a cosmic canvas, Irenaeus creates an account of Jesus as the one who sums up in himself the seemingly irreconcilable contrasts of the cosmos: corruptibility-incorruptibility; mortality-immortality; passibility-impassibility; comprehensibility-incomprehensibility. All these are brought together in Jesus Christ. (Fs)

There is therefore, as I have pointed out, one God the Father, and one Christ Jesus, who came by means of the whole dispensational arrangements [connected with Him], and gathered together all things in Himself. But in every respect, too, He is man, the formation of God; and thus He took up man into Himself, the invisible becoming visible, the incomprehensible being made comprehensible, the impassible becoming capable of suffering, and the Word being made man, thus summing up all things in Himself: so that as in super-celestial, spiritual, and invisible things, the Word of God is supreme, so also in things visible and corporeal He might possess the supremacy, and, taking to Himself the pre-eminence, as well as constituting Himself Head of the Church, He might draw all things {anakephalaioo-recapitulate) to Himself at the proper time.1

93c Because of his sharing in our nature, we are able to share in his. It is easy to read this as simply accomplished in the incarnation itself, that is, the very fact of the incarnation is sufficient for salvation, without reference to the death of Jesus. The mechanism of salvation is then a type of deus ex machina, the automatic outcome of the incarnation itself. This tends to downplay the important role of conversion and repentance in redemption. The image of recapitulation, however, gives a powerful sense of the wholeness that salvation brings. In Christ all things are made whole; everything is brought together in him. All the painful divisions we experience, the lack of wholeness that pervades our lives-all these thing are healed through the saving work of Jesus. (Fs)

94a The Latin theologian Tertullian (b. ca. 160) developed a different account that draws on the New Testament notion of ransom (Mark 10:45). This account argues that Jesus' death is in some sense a ransom that had to be paid for sin:

Oh how unworthy is it of God and His will that you try to redeem with mere money a man who has been ransomed by the Blood of Christ\God spared not His own Son for you, letting Him become a curse for us; for "cursed is he who hangs on a tree"; as a sheep He was led to sacrifice, as a lamb to the shearer ... And all this that He might redeem us from our sins ... hell lost its right to us and we were enrolled for heaven ... man, born of the earth, destined for hell, was purchased for heaven ... Christ ransomed man from the angels who rule the world, from the powers and spirits of wickedness, from the darkness of this world.2

94b In this scheme Jesus has paid a ransom, the needed price, so that the "rights" of hell or the angelic powers have been released, or "enrolled" for heaven. According to Tertullian, the devil has gained certain rights over humanity because of the sin of Adam, so that we have become "slaves to sin." God must treat the devil "fairly" and so must pay the price demanded for our release. And what could be more valuable than the life of his own Son?

Again this image is clearly a powerful symbol of release from the burden of slavery, and to that extent has significant existential appeal. How often do we feel "enslaved" by forces beyond our control? How often do we feel as if a price is being extracted from us for our past failings and the failings of others? Imagine what it would be like, then, if someone was to "pay the price" for our release. What love it would reveal and what gratitude it would elicit from us!

94c Even in the early church, however, people could see that there were problems associated with the image of ransom. Gregory of Nazianzus, one of the Cappadocian fathers, for example, asks the question, "To whom is the ransom paid?"

If to the Evil One, fie upon the outrage! If the robber receives ransom, not only from God, but a ransom which consists of God Himself, and has such an illustrious payment for his tyranny, a payment for whose sake it would have been right for him to have left us alone altogether. But if to the Father, I ask first, how? For it was not by Him that we were being oppressed; and next, On what principle did the Blood of His Only begotten Son delight the Father, Who would not receive even Isaac, when he was being offered by his father [i.e., Abraham], but changed the sacrifice, putting a ram in the place of the human victim?3

95a Nonetheless, the theme of ransom was taken up with enthusiasm by Gregory of Nyssa, another of the Cappadocians, who expanded the metaphorical language to include discussion of the "deception" of the devil as part of the transaction. The devil is deceived into taking Jesus, not realizing who Jesus is, since his divinity is clothed in his humanity. The devil literally bites off more than he can chew, overreaching himself in claiming what he has no right to. In doing so he forfeits all claims to humanity. In this way Gregory of Nyssa avoids the notion that somehow the devil profits from accepting a ransom from God. Despite its mythic framework, Gregory's insight effectively captures the way in which evil often overreaches itself and so makes itself undone. (Fs)

95b Finally, we should consider the image of "sacrifice," which first finds systematic exploitation in the writings of Origen. Origen moved in a world where the notion of sacrifice is "self- explanatory. "It was common among both pagans and Jews, who engaged in various forms of sacrifice. The self-explanatory character of the necessity of sacrifice is spelled out in the following:

It may well be that as our Lord and Savior ... bestowed remission of sins on the whole world, so also the blood of others, holy and righteous men ... has been shed for the expiation, in some part, of the people .. . Christ is spoken of as a lamb because his willingness and goodness, by which he made God again propitious to man and bestowed pardon for sins, stood as a lamb, a spotless and innocent victim, a victim by which heaven is believed to be reconciled to men .. . While there are sins there must needs be required sacrificial victims for sins. Had there been no sin the Son of God would not have been constrained to become a lamb, nor would there have been a need for him to be incarnate and put to death ... but since sin entered into the world, and sin of necessity requires propitiation, and propitiation cannot be effected save by a sacrificial victim, such a victim had to be provided for.4
96a The logic of the situation is clear: sin requires propitiation; propitiation requires sacrifice; and sacrifice requires a victim. This is simply a given in Origen's worldview. Nonetheless, he was well aware of the ambiguity of the language of sacrifice, that the symbol has certain darker tones that do not seem compatible with a Christian understanding of God:

But in addition, the other sacrifices akin to this sacrifice seem to me to be the shedding of the blood of the noble martyrs. It was not in vain that the disciple John saw them standing beside the heavenly altar ... Now to comprehend, even if to a limited extent, the more spiritual sense of such sacrifices which cleanse those for whom they are offered, one must understand the sense of the sacrifice of the daughter of Jephte who was offered as a holocaust because of the vow of him who conquered the children of Ammon. She who was offered as a holocaust consented to this vow, for, when her father said, "I have opened my mouth to the Lord against you," she said to him, "And if you have opened your mouth to the Lord against me, perform your vow." Such accounts give an appearance of great cruelty to God to whom such sacrifices are offered for the salvation of men.5

96b The mention of Jephtha's sacrifice of his daughter (Judg 11) should sound a warning. It is a classic "text of terror," a text of truly terrifying implications.6 Do we really want to implicate God in this sacrifice of innocent life to mark the occasion of a military victory? Is this really compatible with the God revealed by Jesus?

96c Indeed, Origen brings the notions of sacrifice and ransom together so that the sacrifice of Jesus becomes an expiation that averts the power of the devil. Frances Young notes:
Origen's way of explaining the sacrificial death of Christ and the expiatory power of his blood, is in terms of the offering of a ransom to the devil and the analogy with human sacrifices of aversion, examples of which can be found in pagan literature. He is at a loss as to how such sacrifices of aversion work, but basically feels that the sacrificial death of Christ is only explicable in such terms, while recognizing a great degree of difference, for Christ died to save the whole world ... Christ gave his soul as a ransom for many. To whom did he give it? It could not have been God; rather it was to the wicked one who had dominion over us until the [soul] of Jesus was given to him as a ransom for us. But he was deceived; he thought he could master it... and did not realize that he could not bear the torture of holding it. So the life offered in sacrifice and the blood shed as an expiation become in the hands of Origen, the ransom price given by God to the devil.7

97a Despite these difficulties, the symbol of Jesus' death as a sacrifice is firmly embedded in Christian consciousness and particularly in Catholic sacramental doctrine of the eucharist. We shall explore this further below and in chapter 7. (Fs)

As with notions of recapitulation and ransom, the notion of sacrifice has a strong existential appeal. If someone is willing to sacrifice something valuable for our sake, then we must also be valuable in their eyes. Or, as Paul argues:

For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. Indeed, rarely will anyone die for a righteous person-though perhaps for a good person someone might actually dare to die. But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. (Rom 5:6-8)
97b But again the image is not without its ambiguities, if it is turned into a sacrifice needed to placate an angry God. Then it is no longer something God does for us to reveal the depths of the divine love and compassion for humanity, but something humanity does to try to get God off its back. Underneath such an inversion of roles lies a powerful ambiguity in our human experience about God-so ambiguous in fact that we end up confusing God with Satan, the Accuser. (Fs)

97c The purpose of the above collage is not to present a comprehensive account of how the early church fathers understood the mechanism of redemption. It is to indicate something of the variety of approaches as well as the difficulties each presents. Each has a certain existential appeal; each invites us to explore an aspect of salvation. But if and when we switch to a more explanatory mode of thinking, each also resists an easy systematization. The first real attempts at some form of systematization begin to take shape in the Middle Ages. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Erlösung - Mittelalter; Anselm, Thomas

Kurzinhalt: It is the notions of honor and satisfaction due to dishonor that are central to Anselm's argument... Aquinas is not arguing for the necessity of the incarnation, but for its fittingness. He is not trying to deduce the truths of faith...

Textausschnitt: THE BEGINNINGS OF SYSTEM IN THE MIDDLE AGES

97d The most famous attempt at a theological systematization of soteriology is that of Anselm in his work Cur Deus homo? (Why the God-man?). Anselm makes clear his rejection of any notion that the death of Jesus should be understood as a ransom paid to the devil. Such a notion is abhorrent to him:
I do not see the force of that argument, which we are wont to make use of, that God, in order to save men, was bound, as it were, to try a contest with the devil in justice, before he did in strength, so that, when the devil should put to death that being in whom there was nothing worthy of death, and who was God, he should justly lose his power over sinners; and that, if it were not so, God would have used undue force against the devil, since the devil had a rightful ownership of man, for the devil had not seized man with violence, but man had freely surrendered to him. It is true that this might well enough be said, if the devil or man belonged to any other being than God, or were in the power of any but God. But since neither the devil nor man belong to any but God, and neither can exist without the exertion of Divine power, what cause ought God to try with his own creature, or what should he do but punish his servant, who had seduced his fellow-servant to desert their common Lord and come over to himself. (Cur Deus homo? 1.7)1

98a Rather than speak of ransom Anselm introduces the new concept of his emerging soteriology, that of "satisfaction." According to Anselm, every wish of a rational creature should be subject to the will of God, conceived of as a debt or duty:

This is the debt which man and angel owe to God, and no one who pays this debt commits sin; but every one who does not pay it sins. This is justice, or uprightness of will, which makes a being just or upright in heart, that is, in will; and this is the sole and complete debt of honor which we owe to God, and which God requires of us. For it is such a will only, when it can be exercised, that does works pleasing to God; and when this will cannot be exercised, it is pleasing of itself alone, since without it no work is acceptable. He who does not render this honor which is due to God, robs God of his own and dishonors him; and this is sin. Moreover, so long as he does not restore what he has taken away, he remains in fault; and it will not suffice merely to restore what has been taken away, but, considering the contempt offered, he ought to restore more than he took away. For as one who imperils another's safety does not enough by merely restoring his safety, without making some compensation for the anguish incurred; so he who violates another's honor does not enough by merely rendering honor again, but must, according to the extent of the injury done, make restoration in some way satisfactory to the person whom he has dishonored. We must also observe that when any one pays what he has unjustly taken away, he ought to give something which could not have been demanded of him, had he not stolen what belonged to another. So then, every one who sins ought to pay back the honor of which he has robbed God; and this is the satisfaction which every sinner owes to God. (1.11; emphasis added)

99a It is the notions of honor and satisfaction due to dishonor that are central to Anselm's argument. After much discussion he comes to his basic conclusion that satisfaction can be made only by one who is both God and human:

Anselm. But this cannot be effected, except the price paid to God for the sin of man be something greater than all the universe besides God. Boso. So it appears.
Anselm. Moreover, it is necessary that he who can give God anything of his own which is more valuable than all things in the possession of God, must be greater than all else but God himself. Boso. I cannot deny it.

Anselm. Therefore none but God can make this satisfaction. Boso. So it appears.
Anselm. But none but a man ought to do this, other wise man does not make the satisfaction. Boso. Nothing seems more just.

Anselm. If it be necessary, therefore, as it appears, that the heavenly kingdom be made up of men, and this cannot be effected unless the aforesaid satisfaction be made, which none but God can make and none but man ought to make, it is necessary for the God-man to make it. (2.6)

99b To his own satisfaction then Anselm has found necessary reasons why the incarnation had to occur, given the fact of human sinfulness. This account has proven remarkably resilient through the subsequent history of Christian thought on the redemption, to such an extent that it was on the point of formal adoption at the First Vatican Council (1869-70).2

99c Modern commentators have been less sympathetic to Anslem's argument. They have identified two major concerns. First, Anselm's account depends very much on a medieval worldview in which codes of honor were central to the way of life. Codes of honor were one of a number of interlocking elements of mutual rights and obligations in medieval society. Take these elements away and the account tends to become less convincing. Anselm's account is more culturally conditioned than he thought and hence less convincing to those of a different worldview. Second, it is difficult to square Anselm's account of how God deals with human sin with the account we find operative in the mission of Jesus. As Michael Winter points out,

Quite simply, in Jesus' own dealings with sinners and in his teaching about forgiveness, compensation is never required as a prior condition for being received back into the love of God. This is true of the parables of forgiveness, the narratives of conversion or reconciliation of individuals or in the plain teaching of Christ. Satisfaction is never required as a condition of their being reconciled with God.3
100a A further difficulty lies in Anselm's methodology. His desire to find "necessary reasons" for the incarnation means that he has narrowed the experience of salvation to one particular aspect, an aspect that may have made some sense in his own culture, but of itself is a truncation of the full reality of redemption. In Aquinas, on the other hand, we find a much more adequate account, in part because he is not seeking "necessary reasons" but simply seeking to give a fuller understanding. Indeed, he rejects the possibility of finding any necessity for the incarnation, "For God with His omnipotent power could have restored human nature in many other ways" (ST III q. 1, a. 2). Aquinas is not arguing for the necessity of the incarnation, but for its fittingness. He is not trying to deduce the truths of faith; he is trying to understand them, and the proposed intelligibility is hypothetical, not necessary. He is adding not to our certainty but to our understanding, and hence the account he gives is much fuller than Anselm can even consider. Aquinas then lists ten reasons why the incarnation is necessary, but in the sense of fitting or convenient: five under the heading "for the furtherance of the good," and another five under the heading "for our withdrawal from evil":

Now this may be viewed with respect to our "furtherance in good." First, with regard to faith, which is made more certain by believing God Himself Who speaks; hence Augustine says (De Civ. Dei xi, 2): "In order that man might journey more trustfully toward the truth, the Truth itself, the Son of God, having assumed human nature, established and founded faith." Secondly, with regard to hope, which is thereby greatly strengthened; hence Augustine says (De Trin. xiii): "Nothing was so necessary for raising our hope as to show us how deeply God loved us. And what could afford us a stronger proof of this than that the Son of God should become a partner with us of human nature?" Thirdly, with regard to charity, which is greatly enkindled by this; hence Augustine says (De Catech. Rudib. iv): "What greater cause is there of the Lord's coming than to show God's love for us?" And he afterwards adds: "If we have been slow to love, at least let us hasten to love in return." Fourthly, with regard to well-doing, in which He set us an example; hence Augustine says in a sermon (xxii de Temp.): "Man who might be seen was not to be followed; but God was to be followed, Who could not be seen. And therefore God was made man, that He Who might be seen by man, and Whom man might follow, might be shown to man." Fifthly, with regard to the full participation of the Divinity, which is the true bliss of man and end of human life; and this is bestowed upon us by Christ's humanity; for Augustine says in a sermon (xiii de Temp.): "God was made man, that man might be made God."

So also was this useful for our "withdrawal from evil." First, because man is taught by it not to prefer the devil to himself, nor to honor him who is the author of sin; hence Augustine says (De Trin. xiii, 17): "Since human nature is so united to God as to become one person, let not these proud spirits dare to prefer themselves to man, because they have no bodies." Secondly, because we are thereby taught how great is man's dignity, lest we should sully it with sin; hence Augustine says (De Vera Relig. xvi): "God has proved to us how high a place human nature holds amongst creatures, inasmuch as He appeared to men as a true man." And Pope Leo says in a sermon on the Nativity (xxi): "Learn, O Christian, thy worth; and being made a partner of the Divine nature, refuse to return by evil deeds to your former worthlessness." Thirdly, because, "in order to do away with man's presumption, the grace of God is commended in Jesus Christ, though no merits of ours went before," as Augustine says (De Trin. xiii, 17). Fourthly, because "man's pride, which is the greatest stumbling-block to our clinging to God, can be convinced and cured by humility so great," as Augustine says in the same place. Fifthly, in order to free man from the thraldom of sin, which, as Augustine says (De Trin. xiii, 13), "ought to be done in such a way that the devil should be overcome by the justice of the man Jesus Christ," and this was done by Christ satisfying for us. Now a mere man could not have satisfied for the whole human race, and God was not bound to satisfy; hence it behooved Jesus Christ to be both God and man. (ST III q.l.a.2)

101a Aquinas is often portrayed as simply adopting the Anselmian teaching taken up in his fifth point on "withdrawal from evil," the difference being his dropping of the strict necessity of the incarnation. However, we can see from the above that he places the work of the incarnation in a much richer context than the single explanatory concept of "satisfaction." While it is part of his armory, it is not the whole thing. Moreover, his treatment of satisfaction is more nuanced and careful (more specifically in STIII q. 1, a. 2, ad 2). It is also worth noting that Aquinas makes no explicit mention of Anselm himself, but draws heavily from Augustine. (Fs)

102a The richness of Aquinas's account rivals that of von Balthasar at the beginning of this chapter; however, it has the advantage of being also very concrete. Aquinas is trying to analyze the impact of Jesus' death, conceived of as an act of love from God toward human beings, on those who recognize this divine intent in Jesus' self-offering. He is literally asking, How does the death of Jesus move us who believe in him, and so save us? Nonetheless, it still makes little direct contact with the historical narrative of Jesus' mission as the precursor to his death. In order to make this connection we might turn to the modern anthropology of Rene Girard. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Erlösung - Girard; Sündenbock, Mimetik, Satan

Kurzinhalt: Because of Jesus' commitment to nonviolence, his violent death exposes the scapegoat mechanism for what it is, the unjustified murder of the innocent... Girard will in fact personify this violence as the Satan, the Accuser, whose "power is ...

Textausschnitt: MODERN ACCOUNTS-THE INSIGHTS OF RENÉ GIRARD

102b The cultural anthropological work of Rene Girard has been a source of inspiration for a number of theologians working in soteriology (e.g., Raymund Schwager, James Alison, and Anthony Bartlett, to name a few).1 Although Girard's position is not without its problems, it remains highly suggestive for those working with notions of sacrifice in the Christian tradition. As we have already noted, the symbol of sacrifice is a major one in the Christian tradition for understanding the death of Jesus. (Fs)

102c For Girard, society is built upon a scapegoat mechanism whereby an innocent victim is expelled to ensure the harmony of the group. This is an act of primordial violence (e.g., the story of Cain and Abel in Genesis 4) upon which all culture and social order are built. Further, this act of violence arises from a process of mimetic desire. Girard holds that we "learn" to desire through the desire of others. I desire something through seeing you desire it first, something that is often evident in young children fighting over toys. This places our desires within a field of competition and conflict in their very origins. This conflict would destroy our social relationships if it were not displaced onto a convenient third party, a scapegoat who bears the brunt of our violence (e.g., Lev 16:5-10). The expulsion or destruction of the scapegoat restores social harmony and thus imbues the scapegoat with magical or divine powers. This is reminiscent of Origen's account of the efficacy of pagan sacrifices. For Girard this mechanism is the beginning of religion and of human culture. (Fs) (notabene)

103a Girard views the religious history of Israel as a progressive release from this structure of sacrifice of the scapegoat, a history of resistance to the scapegoat mechanism. With its emphasis on the poor and marginalized and social justice as the touchstone of righteousness before God, Israel develops a more purified religious observance. The mission of Jesus is the final stage in this process of purification. Because of Jesus' commitment to nonviolence, his violent death exposes the scapegoat mechanism for what it is, the unjustified murder of the innocent. In this way Jesus' mission is one of the subversion of sacrifice, of uncovering the secret violence on which society is built. For the sacrificial community, "Jesus appears as a destructive and subversive force, as a source of contamination that threatens the community."2 That community must then turn its violence against Jesus, "the most perfect victim that can be imagined, the victim that, for every conceivable reason, violence has the most reason to pick on. Yet at the same time, this victim is the most innocent."3 Thus, the violence of the scapegoat mechanism is exposed, releasing a powerful force for social and cultural change, whose implications are still being effected in human history. (Fs)

103b What violence does not and cannot comprehend is that, in getting rid of Jesus by the usual means, it falls into the trap that could be laid only by innocence of such a kind because it is really not a trap: there is nothing hidden. Violence reveals its own game in such a way that its workings are compromised at their very source; the more it tries to conceal its ridiculous secret from now on, by forcing itself into action, the more it will succeed in revealing itself. We can see here parallels with the notion of the devil overreaching itself and leading to its own downfall.4 (Fs)

103c Girard will in fact personify this violence as the Satan, the Accuser, whose "power is his ability to make false accusations so convincingly that they become unassailable truth of entire communities," whereas Jesus is the Paraclete, "the lawyer for the defense, the defender of victims."5 For Girard, the passion of Jesus is "a violent process, a demonic expulsion."6

103d Read in this way, Christianity is in fact antisacrificial. The historic mission of Christianity is to expose the scapegoat mechanism for the violence that it is, and so put an end to all sacrifice-the sacrifice of Jesus is "once and for all" (Heb 7:27). The use of sacrificial language in the Christian tradition is basically mistaken: "There is nothing in the Gospels to suggest that the death of Jesus is a sacrifice ... The passages that are invoked to justify a sacrificial conception of the passion both can and should be interpreted with no reference to sacrifice in any of the accepted meanings" of the term.7

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Erlösung von - Erbsünde (Heilung) - aktueller Sünde ; Opfer - 2 Aspekte (Lob - Opfer); Fehler der Vermischung d. zwei Bedeutungen von O.: Lösegeld für Gott - Satan; Barth (Dualismus)

Kurzinhalt: For both genuine obedience and disobedience have the structure of sacrifice. Genuine obedience sacrifices the lower good for the sake of the higher, while disobedience sacrifices the higher for the sake of the lower.

Textausschnitt: THE TWO DISCOURSES OF SACRIFICE

104a While this may be overstating the case for rhetorical effect, it is clear that Girard has identified a very important insight. The language of sacrifice has a dual aspect. One more positive aspect is to view sacrifice as a "sacrifice of praise," the handing of one's life over to God's will in obediential love and service. Christian language of sacrifice reflects this aspect (e.g., Rom 12:1; Phil 4:18; Heb 13:15; 1 Pet 2:5). In doing so, however, it tends to mask a more negative aspect of the same symbol. This more negative aspect is the dark underbelly of sacrifice, the disobedience of killing the innocent, a sacrifice for an evil purpose, often masked by a "religious" or ideological justification: "it is better for you to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed" (John 11:50). For both genuine obedience and disobedience have the structure of sacrifice. Genuine obedience sacrifices the lower good for the sake of the higher, while disobedience sacrifices the higher for the sake of the lower. Genuine obedience willingly sacrifices its own good for the sake of a higher good. Disobedience sacrifices the other, the unwilling victim, to fulfill its own desires. The work of Girard focuses our attention on the darker aspects of sacrifice, which should have no place in Christian self-understanding. On the other hand, if we lose touch with this darker aspect we are in danger of removing our understanding of Jesus' death from the historical narrative in which is occurs, making it a purely religious drama with no real historical content. We need to bring these two aspects into a real relationship with each other, if we are to understand the death of Jesus as a response to human sinfulness. (Fs)

Kommentar (25/06/10): Der Absatz oben ist sehr unklar.

104b It is instructive in attempting to analyze the reality of salvation to return to the question, From what are we being saved? The ways in which we conceive of this "being saved from" will shape our understanding of the mechanism of salvation itself. As we have seen, the biblical language of salvation presents us with a variety of metaphors to express this "being saved from": death, sin, the wrath of God, Satan, and so on. Another candidate that emerges from the tradition is original sin. In ST III q. 1, a. 4, Aquinas asks whether the point of the incarnation is to free us from actual sin, or from original sin; he answers that it was "principally to take away original sin." I would take this observation as a starting point to suggest that the problem of salvation has two distinct foci. The first regards the problem of actual sin and how that is to be dealt with by God. The second regards the problem of original sin and how that is dealt with. Further, the two discourses of sacrifice correlate with these two foci of salvation. (Fs)

105a Much of the traditional language of salvation focuses on the need for redemption from our actual sins. It presents us with the need for judgment, conversion, and forgiveness. Much of the traditional positive language of sacrifice draws on Old Testament expiatory rites as a type of the more perfect sacrifice of Jesus, which deals with sin through the conversion that it symbolizes, the sacrifice of praise which evokes within us the conversion we need in order to turn again to God and to turn away from our sins. In the death of Jesus we see our sin for what it is; we are judged, convicted of sin yet at the same time offered forgiveness from the cross, as Jesus' final act of obedience to the Father's mission of love. (Fs)

105b This cannot be the whole story of salvation, however. When we consider the issue of original sin, we need to ask, How can we be judged for what we have not done, forgiven for a sin that is not ours? In this regard much of the traditional language of salvation and sacrifice begins to break down. Indeed, in dealing with the problem of original sin the tradition has tried to force it into the pattern of the problem of actual sin by equating it with some type of primal guilt we all share in, something that we mysteriously have responsibility for "in Adam." We have then understood the mechanism for its resolution in terms of the same patterns adopted for personal sin. Yet, as I have argued in the chapter on original sin, a coherent account of original sin can be formulated as a statement of our universal victimhood, "in Adam." We are all the victim of others' sins, all the way back to that first primal fault. This state of victimhood does not need judgment and forgiveness; it needs healing and compassion.1 In this perspective, the death of Jesus, his ritual murder, is transformed by Jesus into an act of solidarity, a voluntary identification on the part of Jesus with the most victimized, and most despised, part of ourselves.2 Jesus shares our fate, not as sinners but as sinned against. Of course, this death is a consequence of Jesus' fidelity to his mission and the sinful reaction of those who murdered him. However, Jesus transforms this mindless fate into life-giving sacrament through the meaning he gives to his death in his words and actions at the Last Supper.3 (Fs) (notabene)

106a I would now like to explore some of the things that can go wrong when we fail to recognize that there are two distinct sacrificial discourses. The first and perhaps most common problem is to conflate the two into a single discourse. This leads to multiple confusions between God and Satan, between goodness and sin, between divine providence and evil. Such confusion is evident in the discussion of the early fathers on the ransom model-is the ransom paid to God or to Satan? In a more systematic mode it is, according to Raymund Schwager, to be found in the writings of Karl Barth. According to Schwager, Barth speaks of "Jesus' opponents as the 'instruments' and 'agents' of divine judgment," leading to the conclusion "that Jesus had suddenly stopped being the revealer of God and instead his opponents had been entrusted with his mission."4 In fact such an approach lays the blame for sin and the dark side of sacrifice at the feet of God. (Fs)

106b The second problem is to emphasize the positive aspect of sacrifice, while denying that the darker side sheds any light on the Christian experience. I think this is evident in a modern trend to suppress the language of sacrifice altogether as inappropriate. Consequently the image of sacrifice loses all its dark connotations, to become simply a "sacrifice of praise." The consequence is a romanticized version of Christian faith and life, which never really touches the hard reality of human sin and the suffering of sin's victims. It correlates with a downplaying of the notion of original sin and of the notion of redemption. Such a trend can be found in the writings of Matthew Fox, with his appeal to the notion of "original blessing."5

106c The third problem is to fail to recognize the positive discourse of sacrifice. Then Christianity becomes a parody of itself, becoming yet another form of paganism rather than its subversion and replacement. This is the danger that Girard attacks in his anti-sacrificial reading of Christianity. He fears that the use of sacrificial language can only be a perversion of the truth of Christian faith, and so it would be. What is less clear is whether the Christian tradition has ever really fallen into such a stance. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Erlösung - nicht-christliche Religionen; Islam, Judentum, Buddhismus

Kurzinhalt: ... neither Islam nor Judaism has a notion of original sin, and hence correlatively neither has a clear place for the notion of a savior.

Textausschnitt: DO OTHER RELIGIONS HAVE SAVIORS?

107a The notion of a savior is so entrenched in Christian self-understanding that it can come as a surprise to realize that for other religions there may be no notion of a savior at all. It is quite feasible to ask: How can the good actions of another person enhance my possibility for salvation? Why do I need another person to act on my behalf?

107b As we noted in our discussion of original sin, neither Islam nor Judaism has a notion of original sin, and hence correlatively neither has a clear place for the notion of a savior. Neither in Judaism nor in Islam is there solidarity in human sinfulness. Each person stands before God, personally responsible for his or her actions. Just as the sin of another cannot be the cause of my damnation, the good deeds of another cannot be the cause of my salvation. Muhammad, for example, is not a savior but a prophet, God's agent for revelation, but not for salvation. Christianity, on the other hand, holds to a solidarity in both damnation and salvation. While I may contribute to my damnation and my salvation, there are a variety of other influences that are beyond my control but that nonetheless shape my personal history. Our solidarity with Adam in original sin is matched by a more powerful solidarity in faith with Jesus Christ (Rom 5:12-21). To have a notion of a universal savior one needs some account of a universal human condition from which we need salvation. This is a significant difference between Christianity and both Islam and Judaism. (Fs) (notabene)

107c Does Buddhism consider the Buddha a savior? In classical Theravada Buddhism, the answer is no. In fact, the Buddha himself denied such a role to himself. In some forms of Buddhism, however, such as Mahayana Buddhism where the Buddha is viewed more as a semi-divine figure, he does become viewed as a savior. As we shall see, the dominant metaphor for salvation is that of enlightenment, with the Buddha as a teacher who leads the follower to the path of insight into the nature of the world. Still, this role could be played by another teacher who could lead us along the same path. However, the more the Buddha is viewed as a semi-divine figure, the more this enlightenment may be viewed as an act of divine graciousness mediated in some sense by the Buddha. In that sense he may be viewed as a saving figure, but not in the more exclusive sense used by Christian faith in relation to Jesus Christ. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Gnade, das Übernatürliche 1; Unmöglichkeit der Selbst-Erlösung (co-dependent person; Sucht); heilende, operative, ko-operative Gnade. - Freiheit d. Wahl (Widerspruch, weil: F. von Sünde); Konversion, moralische Impotenz; Entscheidung, Wertskala

Kurzinhalt: If sin distorts and cripples our freedom, then in the first instance the impact of grace is to heal and strengthen our freedom so that we may break out of the compulsive power of sin.

Textausschnitt: GRACE AS HEALING

109b If sin distorts and cripples our freedom, then in the first instance the impact of grace is to heal and strengthen our freedom so that we may break out of the compulsive power of sin. Concretely the decisions we make embody the values we hold-not the values we "notionally" hold but the values we actually hold. Our decisions manifest our own personal scale of values, and a freedom that is captured by sin arises out of a heart whose response to value is fundamentally distorted. As we explored in our discussion of original sin, a key element of this distortion is our sense of our own personal value, our spontaneous sense of our own value or self-esteem. It may be that I feel myself to be unlovable, or that I love myself for all the wrong reasons, puffing myself up with a sense of self-righteousness. Decisions emerge either out of my efforts to bolster my sense of my own goodness or to confirm my own sense of worthlessness. (Fs) (notabene)

110a Despite the promises of self-help gurus, there is a sense in which I simply cannot solve this problem on my own. If my own sense of self is the problem, then all my efforts at "self-help" emerge out of the very same self that needs the help. My efforts will suffer from the same distortions and lead to a reproduction of the same problems in the new edition of "me." I can even enlist others into the project through manipulating them into helping me, but this again emerges from the same distorted self and leads to further reproduction of the same problem once again. In addiction literature this is such a common issue that it gains its own label, co-dependency. The co-dependent person seeks to assist the addict, but does so within the horizon of the addict and his or her addiction. Such co-dependency actually makes things worse, under the guise of seeking to help. (Fs) (notabene)

110b If a solution is to be found, it must be entirely "gratuitous," something that comes to us from a source beyond our manipulation, beyond our control. It must come to us from a source that is untouched by the distortions we suffer, a source of goodness greater than our own. Finally, it must be able to love us "as we are," love the real goodness that we have and so heal the distortions present in our self-esteem by grounding us in the reality of our own real goodness, a goodness that is ours as creations of a wise and loving God. This love must be strong enough to be able to break through the distortions we generate and the lies we tell ourselves. It must be able to confront those distortions and lies, yet do so in a way that both demands and empowers a real change of heart within us. This is the meaning of "grace as healing." (notabene)

110c A traditional theology speaks of this inbreaking of grace as "operative grace."1 God operates on the sinner, taking out the heart of stone and replacing it with a heart of flesh. Such an operation is not dependent on the freedom of the sinner-in fact, God operates to restore the freedom of the sinner, freeing it from its slavery to sin. It is not an attack on our freedom; rather it liberates our freedom to be true to its orientation to the good. However, if we conceived of freedom simply as "freedom of choice" then the notion of operative grace will always appear as somehow contrary to the freedom of the sinner, because it "reduces" our "freedom" to sin. On the other hand, if we view freedom as directed toward good, sin represents a distortion of our freedom. In this case operative grace reestablishes us in true freedom by allowing us once again to act toward the truly good. (Fs)

111a In more modern terms, the prime example of such operative grace is what we would call "conversion." Conversion is not something I produce in myself. It comes to me from without, something that acts upon me. Conversion has various modalities, but a key feature of conversion is the radical change of life it produces in the newly converted subject.2 After conversion everything is different; the world has changed. Fear turns to courage, hatred to love, resentment to forgiveness, despair to hope, and hardness of heart to compassion. Things that were once impossible-for example, the ability to resist temptation-now become easy; things that were part of the routine of my life-for example, engaging my addiction-become repulsive. I am a new person "walking in the light" compared with the old me that "walked in the darkness" (see John 8:12). In this phase Catholic theology will speak of grace as "cooperative," inasmuch as the grace of conversion allows us to cooperate freely in achieving the good. (Fs)

111b Perhaps some of the best accounts of this conversion experience come out of literature dealing with the problems of addiction, such as Twelve Step programs. Indeed the first three steps of Alcoholics Anonymous are:

1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol-that our lives had become unmanageable. (Fs)
2. We came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
3. We made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.3

111c These three steps provide a solid summary of a Christian theology of grace: the problem of moral impotence ("we are powerless over alcohol"), the need for operative grace ("a power greater than ourselves"), and the new-found freedom that this grace as cooperative brings to the converted subject ("made a decision to turn our will..."). (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Dialektik: Gnade - Sünde; Konversion, Augustinus (Confessiones, Retractationum); M. Luther, K. Barth vs. Gnade - Natur (keine "middle ground")

Kurzinhalt: Augustine's theology of grace focuses on the existential situation of the individual, caught between being either a "slave to sin" or a "slave to God's law" (see Rom 7:25). Faced with such a dialectic of sin and grace Augustine could find no middle ...

Textausschnitt: THE GRACE/SIN DIALECTIC

111d One of the most moving accounts of conversion found in Christian literature is that of Augustine in book 8 of his Confessions. In it he recounts his own struggle with continence or sexual purity. This was the last moral obstacle for him in coming to the Christian faith,1 and he felt powerless to do anything about his own weakness in this regard. In the end the radical change in his life did not come about through his own efforts at "self-control" but through the power of God's grace, initiated through the reading of a text from Romans. God produces a change in Augustine, and once that change occurred his problems with continence disappeared. It is clear that this pivotal experience shaped Augustine's whole theology of grace, and through him, the theology and doctrine of the Western church. (Fs) (notabene)

112a Augustine's theology of grace focuses on the existential situation of the individual, caught between being either a "slave to sin" or a "slave to God's law" (see Rom 7:25). Faced with such a dialectic of sin and grace Augustine could find no middle ground, no neutral place that was neither sin nor grace. Consequently Augustine could find nothing good in the life of a pagan-the virtues of the pagans are vices in disguise! Indeed, so extreme was this dialectical position that at one point Augustine even denied that pagans could know anything. Though he was later to retract this position (Retractationum 1.4), it was the logical outcome of the dialectic position he adopted. (Fs)

112b This difficulty points to an unresolved tension in the work of Augustine. On the one hand, his dialectic of grace and sin clearly identifies and highlights the healing qualities of grace. This is a lasting contribution of Augustine's theology of grace. On the other hand, this same dialectical approach paints a black and white account of the human condition. Either one is "all sin'or "all grace." The danger with such an account of the human condition is that it comes close to a form of dualism whereby the finitude of our human state becomes identified with sin itself. We have already seen this type of problem in relation to Augustine's blurring of the distinction between original sin and concupiscence. (Fs) (notabene)

112c Faced with such tensions, theological reflection can move in two distinct directions. One may seek to reinforce the dialectic, making it the fundamental starting point of one's theology. This is the direction taken by Martin Luther and the other reformers. One of the most powerful modern exponents of such a dialectical theology is the great Swiss theologian Karl Barth. For Barth all human reason is suspect, and all human motivation corrupt: "Faith ... grips reason by the throat and strangles the beast."2 Human nature of itself has nothing positive to contribute. (Fs)

113a The alternative is to seek to give some account of the "middle ground" between sin and grace, an arena of goodness that is "natural," not sin, but not yet the salvific goodness of divine grace. It is this line of development that led to the classical grace/nature distinction that became the foundation for the Catholic theology of Thomas Aquinas.3

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Dialektik: Gnade - Natur; Thomas (Augustinus); divinum auxilium - natürliches Licht der Vernunft; reine Natur - gefallene N. (Wille); Verdienste - ewiges Leben; orthodoxe Tradition: theosis, Hesychasmus; gratia sanans, elevans; Pelagius

Kurzinhalt: Human nature is good in itself prior to original sin and can attain the good proportionate to it, but not the supernatural good of salvation, which requires God's grace. After the fall, human nature is weakened and can attain the good proportionate ...

Textausschnitt: THE GRACE/NATURE DISTINCTION

113b While Aquinas was not the first of the medieval theologians to introduce the grace/nature distinction, his is the most systematic exploitation of its potential to deal with the tensions present in the Augustinian legacy.1 In ST I-II q. 109, a. 1. Aquinas begins his account of grace by focusing on a very precise point of tension in the work of Augustine: Whether one can know any truth without grace. After noting objections to the position drawn from the writings of Augustine, and then noting Augustine's own retraction of those objections, Aquinas seeks his own response. He acknowledges that to know anything at all requires God's help (divinum auxilium), but such help should not be equated with a grace that brings salvation: (Fs) (notabene)

We must therefore say that, if a man is to know any truth whatsoever, he needs divine help in order that his intellect may be moved to its act by God. But he does not need a new light added to his natural light in order to know the truth in all things, but only in such things as transcend his natural knowledge.

113c Thus, there is a "natural light" of intellect proportionate to natural human knowledge, but there is also the possibility of a revealed knowledge that requires something added to this natural light, that is the light of faith. In this we see the beginnings of the grace/nature distinction. (Fs) (notabene)

113d Aquinas immediately then moves from the intellect to the will: Whether one can will or do any good without grace (ST I-II q. 109, a. 2). This lies at the heart of the grace/sin dialectic, at least in its extreme form. In this dialectic there is either sin or grace, and without grace nothing good can be achieved. Aquinas initially responds by distinguishing between nature in its pure state and nature in its fallen state. As in the previous response, "divine help" is needed for any motion of the will, as of the intellect, but the good proportional to nature is possible without grace to human nature prior to the fall. What of "fallen" nature? Here Aquinas departs from Augustine:

In the state of corrupt nature he falls short of what nature makes possible, so that he cannot by his own power fulfill the whole good that pertains to his nature. Human nature is not so entirely corrupted by sin, however, as to be deprived of natural good altogether. Consequently, even in the state of corrupt nature a man can do some particular good by the power of his own nature, such as build houses... But he cannot achieve the whole good natural to him, as if he lacked nothing. (Fs)

114a Aquinas is here asserting that even in the fallen state we are capable of some good, always with divine help, but not necessarily grace. He moves on to make a classical assertion about the necessity of grace:

Thus in the state of pure nature man needs a power added to his natural power by grace, for one reason, namely, in order to do and to will supernatural good. But in the state of corrupt nature he needs this for two reasons, in order to be healed, and in order to achieve the meritorious good of supernatural virtue. (Fs)

Kommentar (11.09.12): Die "Hilfe" Gottes als "Erstbeweger" bei jedem Akt des Verstehens und Wollens ist unterschieden von Gnade. Relation: "Hilf : Gnade = Schöpfung – Übernatürliches Leben.

114b By this stage Aquinas has effectively dismantled the grace/sin dialectic through the theoretical construct of human nature. Human nature is good in itself prior to original sin and can attain the good proportionate to it, but not the supernatural good of salvation, which requires God's grace. After the fall, human nature is weakened and can attain the good proportionate to it only in a spasmodic fashion. In this fallen state grace is necessary for two reasons: first, to heal our weakened orientation to the good, and, second, to elevate our nature to a higher end, to be able to attain God in the beatific vision. (Fs) (notabene)

114c The climax of this line of questioning then comes in ST I-II q. 109, a. 5: Whether one can merit eternal life without grace. Here the grace/nature distinction comes to the fore:

Now eternal life is an end that exceeds what is commensurate with human nature ... it follows that a man cannot, by his natural powers produce meritorious works commensurate with eternal life. A higher power is needed for this, namely, the power of grace. Hence a man cannot merit eternal life without grace, although he can perform works which lead to such good as is connatural to him. (Fs)

114d In this passage we can see Aquinas's ultimate rejection of Pelagian anthropology. Human nature is here conceived of ideologically, as oriented to certain ends, with its own operations and power to achieve proportionate ends, rather than an empirical conception of human nature, as found in Augustine. Human nature, according to Aquinas, is oriented to an end, the vision of God, which it simply cannot attain through the operations of its own nature. This end is supernatural, completely beyond the capabilities of any finite nature. (Fs)

115a Our attaining of this end can come about only through a special gift from God, something that makes us able to attain what we cannot attain through our own powers. This grace/nature distinction, while recognizing that grace is healing, focuses our attention on the elevating activity of grace. Grace is "supernatural."

Excursus on Grace and Divinization

While the Catholic tradition has adopted a metaphysical approach that speaks of grace in terms of its relation to the natural order-hence grace as supernatural-the Eastern Orthodox tradition has focused more on the implications of 2 Peter 1:4, that we become sharers of the divine nature through grace. For example, Gregory Nazianzus adopts the language of deification or theosis. This is a new creation that is "more godlike and exalted" than the first creation. This deification is realized by Christ in the incarnation and perfected in the economy of salvation by the Holy Spirit, "appropriated individually in baptism as well as in ascetic and philanthropic acts and finally consummated in the future life."2 Theosis is a reflection of God's light and brightness; it is proximity to, illumination by, and knowledge of God, demanding imitation of Christ and love of neighbor on our part. It is both God's gift and the reward for human effort. (Fs)

The issue of theosis finds a more theoretical explanation in the doctrine of the "uncreated energies of God." Cyril of Alexandria spoke of the Holy Spirit implanting a "divine form" in us through sanctification.3 While this does give expression to the notion of divinization, it is fraught with difficulties. What is the divine form that Cyril is talking about? In Aristotelian terms the form is what makes a thing what it is. The divine form is divinity itself, that is, God. How can this be implanted within us without both compromising the divine transcendence and making us something other than human?

A theoretical response to this was proposed by Gregory Palamas (1296-1359), a monk from Mount Athos. Some would place his contribution to the East as high as that of Aquinas in the West. The context of Palamas's contribution was a dispute concerning the monks' practice of Hesychastic prayer.4 During this prayer the monks claimed to behold the glory of God, the uncreated light of the divine essence that had appeared to the disciples during the transfiguration. Some rejected this claim, arguing that any light they saw must be a created light. Pala-mas responded by developing the doctrine of the uncreated divine energies, and so developed a distinction between the divine essence, which is unknowable (God-in-Godself), and the uncreated energies (God-for-us) that are God in relationship to the created order.5 This position is common among Eastern Orthodox theologians today. (Fs)

116a For Aquinas, this metaphysical analysis is not without psychological content. In discussing whether it is possible in the state of nature to love God above all things (ST I-II q. 109, a. 3) he says it is, but grace adds "an immediate willingness and joy to the natural love of God." Grace is "God's love poured into our hearts" (Rom 5:5), but not God loving us, but us loving God.6 While God loving us manifests the healing power of grace, it is in us loving God as God is in Godself that the elevating power of grace is realized. It is our love response to God that transcends the limits of our natural human power of love and reveals the supernatural nature of grace. (Fs)

116b The introduction of the grace/nature distinction allowed Aquinas to resolve the unresolved tensions present in the Augustinian theology of grace, which took as its starting point the grace/sin dialectic. Since then the grace/nature distinction has found a relatively permanent place in a Catholic understanding of grace and salvation.7 However, it is not without some difficulties. In particular it seems to posit two distinct ends for human existence, a natural end that is attainable through natural powers of human nature, and a supernatural end, which is attainable only through divine grace. How is this possible without dividing human beings in two, without introducing a deep division in the soul? Historically this problem found its focus in the question: Is there a natural desire to see God?

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Schau Gottes, Gnade; Dilemma: menschl. Natur mit 2 Zielen; (natürlich - übernatürlich); Augustinus - Thomas (natürliches Verlangen nach der Ursache); Cajetan (Stockwerke-Theologie; gratia elevans vs sanans)

Kurzinhalt: Is our desire for God part of our human nature, or is it a supernatural gift from God? The posing of this question causes a dilemma... While grace was "elevating," ... it was no longer clear how or even why it could be healing ...

Textausschnitt: THE NATURAL DESIRE TO SEE GOD

116c Perhaps no phrase from Augustine is more well known than his expression of the restlessness of the human heart: "You have made us for yourself and our heart is restless until it rests in you" (Confessions 1.1). It is interesting, then, to learn that in the later part of his life, Augustine became more tentative about making such a statement, particularly in relation to our fallen nature. It seemed to imply a natural ability to move toward God, but Augustine's later, more dialectical approach found that unacceptable.1 However, once a place is found in theology for introducing the grace/nature distinction, the question then arises, Is our desire for God part of our human nature, or is it a supernatural gift from God? The posing of this question causes a dilemma. If our desire for God is part of our human nature, then, given that the fulfillment of that desire can only be the beatific vision, which is strictly supernatural, it would seem that God created human nature incapable of attaining its end. Apart from grace, human nature would be eternally frustrated. On the other hand, if the desire is supernatural, then theology needs to account for two distinct ends of human existence, one natural, the other supernatural, running the danger of splitting human beings in two.2 How are these two ends related to each other? Unless a solution can be found to this dilemma, the intellectual coherence of the construct of human nature remains subject to suspicion, and we should return perhaps to the grace/sin dialectic. (Fs) (notabene)

117a Historically, this problem focused on the teaching of Thomas Aquinas that human nature has a natural desire to see God:

If therefore the human intellect, knowing the essence of some created effect, knows no more of God than that he is; the perfection of that intellect does not yet reach simply the First cause, but there remains in it the natural desire to seek the cause. (ST I-II, q. 3, a. 8)

117a The great Thomist commentator Cajetan (1469-1534) found difficulty with this position of a "natural" desire.3 If there is a natural desire, then this orientation is an orientation to grace in a human nature that is taken to be self-sufficient and self-enclosed. It threatened the gratuity of grace by creating in human nature an exigence or demand for grace in order for it to achieve its final happiness. If we have such a desire, then God must offer us grace in justice to the desire God has planted within us. His conclusion was that grace was somehow extrinsic to "pure" human nature, conceived of as a self-enclosed and complete existence. This developed in the "two-storey" theology of grace, which understood the supernatural as an extrinsic superstructure to human nature. This notion of a "pure" human nature was elevated to a necessary theological principle in order to preserve the gratuity of grace. Human nature was conceived of as having two ends, a natural end determined by its nature, within its powers to attain, and a supernatural end, unrelated to its natural end, totally beyond its powers to attain. While grace was "elevating," adding supernatural ends to human existence, it was no longer clear how or even why it could be healing, and so was lost the great Augustinian insight into grace. (Fs)

118a With few exceptions, this extrinsicist position of Cajetan became the dominant one in Catholic theology until the twentieth century. In its wake came a fatal separation of grace from nature, the sacred from the profane, the religious from the secular, and the spiritual from the mundane. Eventually it came under increasing pressure in the twentieth century with the recovery of the work of the early church fathers, to whom the scholastic construct of human nature was unknown. This led to a period of bitter dispute and debate around a movement known as the nouvelle theologie.4 We shall briefly consider three responses that emerged during this debate, those of Henri de Lubac, Karl Rahner, and Bernard Lonergan. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Schau Gottes, Gnade; K. Rahner vs. De Lubac; übernatürliches Existential; anonymer Christ; Heil außerhalb der Kirche - Frage d. historischen Vermittlung (, J. B. Metz)

Kurzinhalt: On Rahner's notion of the supernatural existential, grace is always and everywhere on offer, in transcendental mode, that is, as offer within human consciousness. This has important consequences, especially in interreligious dialogue.

Textausschnitt: 120a Among those who rejected de Lubac's position was Karl Rahner. Rahner has been without doubt the most influential theologian in the theology of grace.1 His positions have become a theological commonplace with friend and foe alike. Like de Lubac, Rahner wanted to overcome the extrinsicism of the standard position. However, he was far more determined to maintain the grace/nature distinction, and hence more careful than de Lubac in that regard. The reach of Rahner's theology of grace is extensive and encompasses more than the grace/nature debate, though that debate and the position Rahner develops in light of it are the key to his theology. (Fs)

120b Rahner's solution to the problem of extrinsicism is to introduce the notion of what he calls a "supernatural existential." This is a supernatural orientation or desire for God which nonetheless is empirically constitutive of human nature. What this means is that Rahner holds that every human being has a supernatural desire for God. This desire, however, is not essential to human nature as a nature-and so we would still be human without it-but in fact, every concrete human being has such a desire instilled in him or her by God. Rahner argues that just because such a desire is supernatural does not mean it cannot also be universal. Grace need not be rare just because it is gratuitous. While Rahner recognizes a natural orientation to God, this is not sufficient for his purposes. Although it is an openness, it is not an unconditional ordination for grace, for God. Such an ordination is not part of pure nature but is supernatural, even though in this concrete historical order it is a universal element of our concrete human nature. It is present as offer, even when we reject it through sin. (Fs)

121a On Rahner's notion of the supernatural existential, grace is always and everywhere on offer, in transcendental mode, that is, as offer within human consciousness. This has important consequences, especially in interreligious dialogue. It led Rahner to develop the notion of "anonymous Christians" as a way of speaking about salvation outside the church. However, some have questioned whether this undermines the historical mediation of grace, notably through the church and sacraments. Johannes Baptist Metz, a student of Rahner, has been very strong on this point. For him, Rahner "wins the race without even running it," by avoiding the difficulties raised in the issue of historical mediation.2 In a sense Rahner's notion of the supernatural existential seeks to develop a mediating principle between grace and nature, by giving the existential qualities of both grace (as supernatural) and nature (as universal). It raises the question of why such a mediating principle is needed. (Fs) (notabene)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Schau Gottes, Gnade; B. Lonergan; Ausgang: Intellekt; Frage nach Gott; obediential potency (oboedientiale Potenz); ein Verlangen - 2 Ziele: proportional zur Natur - übernatürlich; Sublation; Cajetan (2 Verlangen)

Kurzinhalt: Still, while intellect reveals a potential for the beatific vision, the potential is "obediential"; that is, it lies beyond the proportionate means of the intellect ... Thus Lonergan allows for two ends, one proportionate, the other supernatural ...

Textausschnitt: 121b Finally, we consider the position of Lonergan on our "natural desire to see God."1 Lonergan begins by distinguishing between two meanings of the word "natural." First, it is used as distinct from supernatural, something that is beyond the powers of nature; second, when we speak of a natural desire, it is used in distinction from an elicited desire, which is an act of desiring some presenting object. A natural desire, then, pertains not to acts of elicited desire (e.g., in faith we may desire the beatific vision) but the potential orientation of the nature that is manifested in its acts. When Lonergan speaks of a natural desire to see God in God's essence, he uses the word "natural" in both senses. To speak of an elicited desire for the beatific vision as a natural desire would be to claim a natural appreciation of a supernatural good, the beatific vision, which would deny the supernaturality of that vision. Similarly, if one concludes from the fact of a natural desire to an exigence for the beatific vision, one again denies the supernatural quality of that vision. (Fs)

121c For Lonergan, the evidence for a natural desire is found in our human intellect, or what we have described as the human search for meaning, truth, and value. As soon as we know that there is a God-attainable through the natural light of intellect according to Vatican I (DS 3004)-we seek meaning, "What is God?" But only the beatific vision is a complete response to that question. Such questioning is natural; it reveals a human potency, the intellect, which is a radical tendency to "know everything about everything." Still, while intellect reveals a potential for the beatific vision, the potential is "obediential"; that is, it lies beyond the proportionate means of the intellect to achieve and can only be received "in obedience" as gift. The proportionate end of human knowledge is the universe of sensible being. Thus Lonergan allows for two ends, one proportionate, the other supernatural, arising from a single desire. These stand in relationship to each other since our "quest for complete knowledge can reach its term only when we know God per essentiam."2 Grace truly perfects and completes nature. Still, a natural perfection and beatitude are possible without the beatific vision. The language that Lonergan later would use to describe the relationship between the proportionate and supernatural ends would be "sublation": "what sublates goes beyond what is sublated, introduces something new and distinct, puts everything on a new basis, yet so far from interfering with the sublated or destroying it, on the contrary needs it, includes it, preserves all its proper features and properties, and carries them forward to a fuller realization within a richer context."3 (Fs)

122a Lonergan contrasts his position with that of Cajetan. For Cajetan, a natural desire must be fulfilled by natural means. Since there is no natural means for attaining the beatific vision, there can be no natural desire to see God. Next, Cajetan argues that there is a natural desire, but its object is to know God as the first cause, as existent, not for knowledge of God in his essence. Finally, he argues that there may be a natural elicited desire to see God, one dependent on divinely revealed effects. Thus, for Cajetan there are two desires, one natural, a potency of the nature but with a natural object; the other natural as elicited but with a supernatural object. Cajetan sought to protect the gratuity of grace but in doing so produced a human being with two desires and two ends "at the price of obscuring the relation between the natural desire to see God and its ultimate fulfillment in the beatific vision."4
122b Finally, in response to the position of de Lubac, Lonergan strongly asserts the possibility of God creating a world order where grace is not available:

all things are possible to God on condition that no internal contradiction is involved. But a world-order without grace does not involve an internal contradiction. Therefore a world-order without grace is possible to God and so concretely possible.5

122c While Lonergan accepts that it is fitting for rational creatures to have the beatific vision as their end, it is not necessary. On the other hand, he agrees with de Lubac that the notion of pure nature is hardly a central notion in the theology of grace and loses its significance once one abandons the conceptualist assumptions of Cajetan. (Fs)

123a As can be seen from the above discussion, the problem of working with the grace/nature distinction raises some very difficult questions that have exercised the minds of some of our greatest theologians. However, some simple insights might help the student approaching this for the first time. Some of the difficulties we create for ourselves arise with the language we use and the images behind that language. We often speak of the "religious" or "sacred" sphere in contrast to the "secular" sphere. But the image of contrasting spheres is not helpful. How do "spheres" relate to one another? Each is self-enclosed and complete. Try instead the image of "dimension," that is, the sacred dimension of things. Rather than splitting reality into disconnected spheres, the language of dimensions implies a unified reality with several distinct attributes or orders. A sacred dimension may be manifest at any time, in any place; a sacred sphere will be cut off and isolated from the nonsacred. Grace and the supernatural are not a distinct reality but a potential dimension of all reality, something Catholic theology recognizes in its approach to the sacraments. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Gnade - Erfahrung; Konzil von Trient vs. Reformatoren; Thomas: absolute Gewissheit - Zeichen der Gnade

Kurzinhalt: Aquinas distinguishes between an absolute certainty, which is simply not possible, and knowledge "by signs":

Textausschnitt: CAN WE EXPERIENCE GRACE?

123b Given the emphasis we have placed on grace in terms of conversion and its consequences, it may seem a strange question to ask whether we can experience grace. Conversion is a powerful experience, indeed sometimes overpowering, not something one is likely to miss. However, we should also note the following from the Catechism of the Catholic Church: "Since it belongs to the supernatural order grace escapes our experience and cannot be known except by faith. We cannot therefore rely on our feelings or our works to conclude that we are justified or saved" (CCC no. 2005). There seems to be a suggestion here that grace is not part of our human experience; it is something that "escapes our experience." Should we then cease talking about grace in experiential terms?
123c It is important to identify the concerns that this teaching reflects. The Catechism itself footnotes the teaching of the Council of Trent (DS 1533-34, 1562-63), which was attempting to counter the "brash presumption" of the "heretics" that unless one were certain of being saved, one was not in fact saved. According to the reformers, faith gave one a firm conviction of one's own salvation, and so that conviction or feeling was itself a sure sign of being saved. The council fathers did not accept this position, perhaps fearing the ways in which human self-deception might misuse it:

If anyone shall say that justifying faith is nothing else but confidence in divine mercy, which remits sins for Christ's sake, or that it is this confidence alone that justifies us-anathema sit. (Fs)

If anyone shall say that in order to obtain the remission of sins it is necessary for every man to believe with certainty and without hesitation on account of his own weakness and indisposition that his sins are forgiven him-anathema sit. (DS 1562-3)1

124a Such a conclusions is in itself unexceptional, but coupled with a theology that thought of grace as extrinsic to human nature, a theology that could not provide an integrated account of human ends deduced from this position of Trent that grace was completely outside the range of human experience. While this was not a valid conclusion to draw from that teaching, it became an entrenched position in Catholic theology. Grace became like a heavenly bank account, "out there," beyond our mundane existence with little or no impact on our day-to-day existence. As a consequence, the vital connection between grace and conversion and the Augustinian insight on the healing nature of grace were largely lost. Among other things this led to bad pastoral practice, especially in relation to the sacrament of confession. (Fs)

124b It is instructive, then to turn to Aquinas to see how he deals with the question whether one can know that one has grace (STI-II q. 112, a. 5). Aquinas distinguishes between an absolute certainty, which is simply not possible, and knowledge "by signs":

Things are known conjecturally by signs; and thus anyone may know he has grace, when he is conscious of delighting in God, and of despising worldly things, and inasmuch as a man is not conscious of any mortal sin ... because whoever receives [grace] knows by experiencing a certain sweetness, which he who does not receive it, does not experience. (Fs)

124c It is clear from this that Aquinas held that we do in fact experience grace, as a "certain sweetness" or what Augustine would call "delight," and that this leads to a level of self-knowledge, though not absolute certainty. To some extent this is acknowledged also in the Catechism when it goes on to conclude: However, according to the Lord's words-"Thus you will know them by their fruits"-reflection on God's blessing in our life and in the lives of saints offers us a guarantee that grace is at work in us and spurs us on to an ever greater faith and an attitude of trustful poverty. (CCC no. 2005)

124d So we may conclude that we can indeed experience grace, though it always retains an element of mystery. After an initial conversion experience, it becomes more and more an undercurrent in our lives, an unseen presence, a consolation in hard times, a delight in the truly good, difficult to pin down as it becomes more and more integrated into the fabric of our life. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Vorsehung - Prädestination; Augustinus; Konversion (psychologischer Aspekt); Vorherbestimmung - göttliche Weisheit

Kurzinhalt: [Grace] ... if this is God's work and not a human achievement, then the question obviously arises, why is it so rare? ... In loving wisdom God creates the whole of the created order in a single act. In that sense, God does not predestine anything ...

Textausschnitt: PROVIDENCE AND PREDESTINATION

125a A central element in the Christian tradition of grace is its "gratuitous" nature. Grace is not something we can control, demand, or require. It is pure gift from God. This gratuitous quality is most evident in the experience of conversion, or operative grace. God turns around the life of the sinner, taking out the heart of stone and replacing it with a heart of flesh. "This is the work of the Lord, a marvel to our eyes" (Ps 118:23). But if this is God's work and not a human achievement, then the question obviously arises, why is it so rare? Perhaps we all have our favorite list of people we think need conversion, whether terrorists, politicians, or CEOs of multinational corporations who exploit the poor and devastate the natural environment. Why is it that God does not turn their hearts into hearts of flesh? Put more bluntly, why is it that some are saved, and others, apparently, are not? This is the classical question of predestination. (Fs) (notabene)

125b The language of predestination is taken from the Scriptures, which clearly recognize the problem we have identified (Rom 8:29-30; Eph 1). There the context is one of conversion of the pagans compared with the lack of response to Jesus among the Jews. Why did some respond and others not? Because of God's divine election (see in particular Rom 9-11). Augustine takes up this theme with a vengeance. For Augustine, the mystery of predestination is one hidden in God. Some are chosen, others are not. The number of the predestined is already determined and cannot be changed-only God knows who they are. The predestined are few in number, while the rest of humanity is a massa damnata, or damned lump.1 This theme was also taken up by a number of the reformers who taught double predestination. God predestines some to heaven and others to hell. (Fs)

125c The difficulty is that this scriptural theme must also be kept in balance with other scriptural themes that stress God's love and compassion for all, and in particular that God wills the salvation of all (1 Tim 2:4). Augustine was well aware of such verses, but refused to concede to his opponents that the plain meaning of the text was what the text meant!2 If one combined the universal salvific will of God with the notion of predestination and operative grace, one might rather conclude that all are in fact saved. Indeed, some have drawn such a conclusion, a point we shall return to when we consider the question of hell. In the meantime I shall make the following points. (Fs)

126a What is most disturbing about the notion of predestination is the sense of some arbitrary choice being made by God about who will be saved and who will be damned. We find the arbitrariness of it repugnant-and so we should, for such arbitrariness is a sign of the inauthentic, not the authentic good. So we need to eliminate any sense that God is making some type of arbitrary decision about our salvation. Here it is important to recall the notion of God's universal salvific will. If God in fact wills that all be saved, then God is doing everything possible to work for our salvation. While it may be presumptuous to conclude that all are saved, the teaching of predestination should give us confidence that God is working for our salvation, not against it, and God's will is anything but arbitrary. As Jesus teaches:

Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. (Matt 10:28-31)

126b Second, we may respond to the question, Why is conversion not more common? Perhaps the reason is because it is so difficult to achieve, even for God. If conversion is too abrupt, it may disrupt the psychological identity of the person, leaving him or her incapable of functioning. Through the operation of divine providence God patiently leads the sinner to the point of conversion, a process that may take a lifetime. We must also take into account the resistance of the sinner to God's promptings, which can make the process even more difficult. After conversion there is still the possibility of breakdown, of turning away from God in sin. All this should remind us of the serious nature of sin, of the rupture it causes in our relationship with God and our fellow humans, and of the high price paid for our redemption. (Fs)

126c Finally, as indicated in the previous paragraph, any discussion of predestination must occur within the framework of divine providence. In loving wisdom God creates the whole of the created order in a single act. In that sense, God does not predestine anything, since in God's creative act there is no before or after. God creates the whole of creation, from the initial Big Bang to the final cosmic consummation, in a single divine act. This includes all our free acts and their consequences, all the acts of divine graciousness and all our sins.3 Again we only have a sense of this as arbitrary if we have lost a sense of God's loving wisdom as the source of creation. (Fs)

127a In this sense, then, Catholic teaching affirms a doctrine of predestination, a predestination to glory, grounded in the love and grace of God. It does not affirm any predestination to eternal loss. God does not predestine anyone to hell; that is solely the achievement of the damned. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Gnade - Leben; Thomas: Liebe seiner selbst, v. Familienmitgliedern;

Kurzinhalt: Grace is the beginning of the spiritual life, and our understanding of grace will influence our spirituality. A good theology of grace will lead us in the direction of a healthy spirituality, while ...

Textausschnitt: SOME PRACTICAL INSIGHTS INTO THE LIFE OF GRACE

127b Grace is the beginning of the spiritual life, and our understanding of grace will influence our spirituality. A good theology of grace will lead us in the direction of a healthy spirituality, while a poor theology will have a detrimental effect upon us. We have already noted the detrimental effect of an extrinsicist account of grace. Detrimental effects also flow from a dualistic account of human existence, which tends to overspiritualize the nature of grace. The following questions and responses from Aquinas provide a good example of a sound and realistic theology of grace and a spirituality that emerges from it. (Fs)

ST II-II q. 25, a. 4: Whether a man ought to love himself out of charity?
127c Some forms of spirituality seem to present the spiritual life as a conflict between love of God and love of self. They seem to generate almost a sense of self-hatred or destructive self-denial. They forget that Jesus taught us to love God above all things and our neighbor "as ourselves." Healthy self-love is an essential element in the spiritual life. Indeed, we may love ourselves with a supernatural love (charity). Hence Aquinas concludes:

we may speak of charity in respect of its specific nature, namely as denoting man's friendship with God in the first place and consequently, with the things of God, among which things is man himself who has charity. Hence among these other things which he loves out of charity because they pertain to God, he loves also himself out of charity. (Fs)

ST II-IIq. 25, a. 5: Whether a man ought to love his body out of charity?
127d Again, some forms of spirituality seem to be directed against the body as if it were the source of evil and temptation. Forms of mortification are used to discipline the body and punish it for its weakness. Even apart from such spiritualities we can witness various forms of body-hatred in society, through the problem young women have with body image, culminating in anorexia, to body piercing, which seems to be a delight in self-mutilation. For Aquinas, on the other hand, the body is part of God's handiwork and worthy of not only a natural love, but also a supernatural love:
Now the nature of our body was created not by an evil force ... but by God ... Consequently out of the love of charity with which we love God, we ought to love our bodies also. (Fs)

ST II-II q. 26, a. 4: Whether out of charity man ought to love himself more than his neighbor?
128a It is not uncommon to view the moral life as a struggle between altruism and egotism. The moral decision is one that puts others'interests before one's own. Now there is some truth in recognizing that the moral life involves self-transcendence, going beyond the self one is to become a richer fuller self, but this does not always mean putting others interests before one's own, particularly where their interests may lack much by way of moral self-transcendence. The moral life is not about "self versus other" but about a focus on the good and moral self-transcendence. One of the goods one needs to take into account is the good of oneself, especially in one's journey toward moral self-transcendence (virtue). Hence Aquinas argues:

A man, out of charity, ought to love himself more than his neighbor: in sign whereof a man ought not to give way to any evil of sin, not even that he may free his neighbor from sin. (Fs)

ST II-II q. 26, a. 6: Whether we ought to love one neighbor more than another?

128b Finally, there is a tendency in some forms of idealistic spirituality to state that we should love everyone equally, without any discrimination or favoritism. Our own family should be no more important to us than the person down the street, or even the person on the other side of the world. There is something otherworldly about such spiritualities, and Aquinas will not accept them:
the affection of charity, which is the inclination of grace, is not less orderly than the natural appetite which is the inclination of nature, for both inclinations flow from divine wisdom ... consequently the inclination also of grace which is the effect of charity must needs be proportionate to those actions which have to be performed outwardly, so that, to wit, the affection of our charity be more intense towards those whom we ought to behave with greater kindness. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Leben nach dem Tod: Neues, Altes Testament (Torah, Sadduzäer, Sheol, Makkabäer)

Kurzinhalt: Some would say that the Old Testament, or at least the Torah, has no conception of life after death. The conservative Jews of Jesus'time, the Sadducees, who followed the Torah strictly, did not believe in resurrection ...

Textausschnitt: LIFE AFTER DEATH

174b When we consider portrayals of life after death in film (for example, Ghost, or the final scenes of Titanic, or even Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey), one might wonder what all the fuss is about. Life seems to go on much as usual, except for the fact that the dead are no longer visible to the living. They continue to see, hear, and feel, though for some reason they are not able to touch the living or be heard or seen by them. They even take on the shape they had in life. Death appears as a simple transition from one state to the next, which, although it may be painful beforehand, leaves the departed "soul" in a fairly robust state. The underlying assumption of such portrayals seems to be a form of dualistic anthropology, in which the soul is a separate substance from the body, death separates the soul from the body in an almost physical sense, and the soul itself is conceived as a form of refined matter, much as the Stoic philosophers did. (Fs)

175a This conception is so common that many might be surprised how far it is from the biblical conception of life after death and from Catholic thought on these issues. Let us begin with the Old Testament, move on to the New Testament, and then consider the question from a more philosophical perspective. (Fs)

175b Some would say that the Old Testament, or at least the Torah, has no conception of life after death. The conservative Jews of Jesus'time, the Sadducees, who followed the Torah strictly, did not believe in resurrection and hence had no clear concept of life after death. When you die, that is it. From this perspective, the best one can hope for is a long life and a good family to carry on one's name and tradition. Beyond the Torah-for example, in the Psalms-we do find references to Sheol or the Pit, the place of the dead. Here the dead endure a shadowy existence, cut off from the living and from God (Ps 6:5). There are no punishments, rewards, or fellowship with others. The rich and the poor, the good and the bad all meet the same fate. It is not as if the biblical authors did not believe in rewards and punishments, but they were to be found in this life, not the next.1 (Fs)

As we have already indicated, this approach started to fall apart during the Maccabean Revolt. For the first time in their history the Jews were suffering, not because of their lack of fidelity to the Law but precisely because of their fidelity. How could God allow such suffering to his faithful elect? The "solution" that emerged was belief in life after death, through which rewards to God's faithful could be imparted-at this stage the writers did not conceive of a resurrection for the wicked (2 Mace 7:14). It is the form of life after death, however, that should capture our attention. The Jewish authors did not think of death as the release of the soul from the body, which would free it from the limitations of physical existence. Such a dualistic conception was far from their understanding of human existence. Rather, life after death could only mean bodily life, a life where "body and soul" are formed into a single living human being. For this stage of Jewish belief, a "disembodied soul" was not a human existence, more a half life, like that of the shades in Sheol. Real postmortem life, human life, must be embodied life, what N. T. Wright refers to as "life after life after death.'"2 We are not angels, and even in death a life without a body is hardly worthy of the name. (Fs)

175c This is the horizon that was operative at the time of the New Testament. While some Jews (the conservative Sadducees) did not believe in a resurrection (Matt 22:23), and hence did not believe in any form of life after death, the Pharisees did believe in the resurrection of the body (Acts 23:6), as emerged during the Maccabean period. In his debate with the Sadducees, Jesus affirms the reality of resurrection (Matt 22:23-33), and for Christians Jesus' own resurrection from the dead settles the matter in the affirmative. Nonetheless, any reading of the New Testament resurrection narratives, or of Paul's account of bodily resurrection in 1 Corinthians 15, should be enough to remind us that we are dealing with mystery. These are not accounts of a resuscitated corpse, but of encounters with the risen Lord of history, whose bodiliness can no longer be tied down in easily quantifiable terms. For example, Karl Rahner speaks of the relationship of the soul to the material order as pan-cosmic, while Wright prefers to speak of the resurrected body as transphysical.3 It would be easy, perhaps too easy, to read these New Testament texts like some modern movie script of ghostly appearances, disappearances, and interactions with the living. Rather, they speak of Jesus as fully alive, in a new and mysterious relationship with the material world, but one in which he is able to express his presence in tangible and active forms. Jesus continues as an active agent in human history, through his body which is the church, through his body which is the eucharist, and in ways that are simply beyond our comprehension. (Fs) (notabene)

176a We shall now turn our attention to some of the philosophical concerns underlying this problem. As we shall see they closely parallel the discussion above. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Leben nach dem Tod: Platon (neuplatonisch) - Aristoteles; Thomas: Seele transzendiert die materiellen Bedingungen (potentielles Wissen um alles), Trennung von Seele und Leib: "unnatürlicher" Zustand

Kurzinhalt: Death becomes liberation. On this conception of human existence resurrection of the body makes no sense... In a way the position of Aristotle is much closer to that of the Old Testament than writers who draw a sharp distinction between biblical ...

Textausschnitt: THE PLATONIC CONCEPTION OF SOUL

176b The Platonic (or at least Neoplatonic versions of it) conception of the soul is essentially dualistic.1 The person is constituted by a union of two distinct substances: a spiritual substance (soul) and a material substance (body). The immateriality of the soul means that it enjoys a natural immortality, and the soul is the essential reality of the person. Personal immortality, life after death, is an immediate consequence of the spiritual nature of the soul. This position generally denigrates the body as imprisoning the soul, which is released from its bondage to matter in death. Death becomes liberation. On this conception of human existence resurrection of the body makes no sense. Nonetheless Neoplatonism has had an enormous impact on Christianity through the writings of Pseudo-Dionysius, Augustine, and others. The monastic theology of the Middle Ages was largely Neoplatonic in character and lived with the tension between the inherent dualism of the position and Christian beliefs in the goodness of creation and the resurrection of the dead. It is fair to say that many Christians still adopt this dualistic position in an unreflective and uncritical manner. Although they may accept resurrection of the body, they would find it difficult to fit into their worldview. (Fs)

THE ARISTOTELIAN CONCEPTION OF SOUL

177a For Aristotle, on the other hand, the soul is the form or intelligibility of a living thing, so all living things have a soul; what distinguishes the human soul from others is that it is a rational soul. It can understand and reason and so is spiritual in nature. We have explored this spiritual aspect in chapter 2, where we spoke of it in terms of the human search for meaning, truth, and value. However, the soul always remains the form of a living thing and so requires a body for its proper operation. This is particularly evident in the dependence of the intellect, our ability to understand, on the imagination (phantasm), or the senses. There can be no understanding and possibly no memory without phantasm. Given the close union between body and soul, Aristotle was in fact pessimistic about the possibility of survival of the soul after death. For Aristotle, matter individuates us, so without matter we just have general "form." Some Arab commentators on Aristotle, the Averroists, concluded that there was a single human soul, with which we merged at death. (Fs)

177b In a way the position of Aristotle is much closer to that of the Old Testament than writers who draw a sharp distinction between biblical and philosophical conceptions might assume. For Aristotle, the purpose of the soul is to inform a living body. If it is not doing so, it is not performing its natural function. Death threatens the existence of the soul because the soul no longer serves any purpose. The possibility of life after death, of personal immortality, simply cannot be taken for granted from Aristotle's account. Indeed, when Aquinas began to deploy Aristotelian philosophy in his writings he was accused of denying the immortality of the soul, which led to his condemnation by some church authorities.2

178a Aquinas responded to these criticisms by arguing that, though the soul of a human being is dependent on the operation of the senses, still it has its own operation, which cannot be reduced to those senses. The operation of understanding transcends material conditions, since potentially we can understand anything. This operation is "spiritual," that is, not material, and so the human soul is spiritual in nature. Moreover, when I understand something, it is clear that others do not necessarily understand it, so the understanding is mine. My soul is not the same as anyone else's. Aquinas deduces from this that my soul can in fact survive death and that this soul is an essential constituent of my personal existence. Still, for Aquinas I am not my soul;3 my personal identity is that of the union of my body and soul. (Fs) (notabene)

Given the intimate unity of body and soul, that the soul is immortal and the form of a living human being, Aquinas's position almost demands a resurrection as the only proper form of life after death. A soul separated from the body is in an "unnatural" state, and no such unnatural state can be permanent. Perfect human happiness and justice demand the reuniting of body and soul in a resurrection. Despite the naturalness of the resurrection, however, it is something achieved not by nature but by the power of God.4 (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Tod - Sünde, Erbsünde; Beraubung d. Integrität; T. ohne S., (Maria, Jesus); K. Rahner, L. Boros (finale Option), J. Ratzinger

Kurzinhalt: The disembodied soul is in an unnatural state... Such a separation of body and soul cannot be part of God's original intention. It must be the result of sin:

Textausschnitt: DEATH AND SIN

178b The conception of the intimate relation between body and soul corresponds to much of our natural reaction to death. Death is a wrenching experience, not a simple transition. The disembodied soul is in an unnatural state. Removed from its body, how can it know anything? How can it remember anything?1 Without access to the senses, the soul is cut adrift from the world, from relationships, and possibly even from God. The biblical witness concerning death affirms this "unnatural" quality of death. Such a separation of body and soul cannot be part of God's original intention. It must be the result of sin: "Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death came through sin, and so death spread to all because all have sinned" (Rom 5:12). Here Paul is picking up on the mythological material of Genesis that has death (or no further access to the "tree of life") seen as part of God's punishment of Adam and Eve for their sin. Death is now a punishment for sin. According to a premodern Christian understanding, Adam and Eve would not have died if they had not sinned. (Fs)

179a From an evolutionary perspective, however, it is clear that death was an ever-present reality for all biological creatures prior to the advent of sin. Not only have individual living things died, but even whole species have gone extinct. And it is difficult to know what it might mean to think of human beings, as biologically constituted, being "immortal" if Adam and Eve had not sinned. Would our bodies not have burnt in a fire? Would poisons not have affected our biochemistry? Would falling rocks not have crushed our bodies? And would blood not have drained out of our open wounds? As finite biological beings, we could still be affected by physical, chemical, and biological actions that might lead to the destruction of our bodies. It would seem that the connection between sin and death is more mythological than literal, more exploratory than explanatory. (Fs)

179b One direct exploration of the connection between sin and death is to raise the question of meaning. What does death mean to one who is sinless? Conversely, what does death mean to the one who has committed sin? On the side of sinlessness, the Johannine Jesus speaks of his death as "going to the Father" (John 16:17). Similarly in the case of Mary, preserved free from sin, the church speaks of her assumption body and soul into heaven (Lumen Gentium 59). We might argue from these instances of sinlessness that where sin is present it robs death of its integrity, of its original inner meaning, a meaning we find revealed in the cases of Jesus and Mary. As a result of sin, death becomes ambiguous in character. We cannot say that for us death is simply a return to the Father; it is not just being taken "body and soul into heaven," at least not in any unambiguous sense. Death for us is inextricably bound to judgment, accusation, separation, and pain; it is not an unambiguous possibility of return, but the ambiguous possibility of judgment and ensuing punishment. The inner meaning of death has changed because of sin, and so the reality of death has changed. The death that we experience is the result of sin. Apart from the cases of Jesus and Mary we have no direct access to what death would be like "without sin," though we may witness approximations to it in the dying of people of strong faith. (Fs) (notabene)

179c The relationship between death and sin is not, however, the final word that faith can speak on the subject. Paul continues drawing his parallels between the sin of Adam and the obedience of Jesus:
If, because of the one man's trespass, death exercised dominion through that one, much more surely will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness exercise dominion in life through the one man, Jesus Christ. (Rom 5:17)

180a So if there is linkage between sin and death, we must also expect a linkage between grace and death. The theological writings of Karl Rahner and Ladislaus Boros point in the direction of such a linkage.2

The first thing that Rahner wants to dispel is the notion that death is simply a transition from one state to the next, like changing horses midstream. As we have already seen in relation to Aquinas, Rahner stresses the unity of spirit and matter, and death hits at the very heart of this unity. (Fs)

Death is an event which strikes man in his totality ... Man is a union of nature and person. He is a being who possesses, on the one hand, antecedent to his own personal and free decision and independent of it, a specific kind of existence with definite laws proper to it and, consequently, a necessary mode of development; on the other hand, he disposes freely of himself and is, in the last analysis, what he himself, through the exercise of his liberty, wills himself to be. Death must consequently possess for him a personal and natural aspect. In the doctrine of the Church, the natural aspect is expressed by saying that death is the separation of soul from body; its personal aspect by saying that it means the definitive end of our state of pilgrimage.3

180b But what about the personal aspect? How is it expressed in the reality of death? Here Rahner speaks of death as involving a personal response:

In death something happens to him as a whole, something which, consequently, is of essential importance to his soul as well: his free, personal self-affirmation and self-realisation is achieved in death definitively. This should not be conceived as something occurring "with" death or "after" it, but as an intrinsic factor of death itself.4

180c Ladislaus Boros has taken up Rahner's suggestion to speak of death as involving a "final option." For Boros, the moment of death involves a personal act of the will, whereby it freely accepts or rejects "everything for which it had been striving already, right from the beginning." He also characterizes death as a "moment of truth," of self-presence and self-knowledge, whereby it can "come to itself and so posit in content and composition both its own nature and the infinite capacity that is an essential element in this nature."5 Both the cognitional and volitional elements that Boros is seeking to identify give expression to the definitive element in death. They are not something that happens "after" death, but are constitutive elements of death itself. They are part of what is meant by the separation of body and soul. (Fs)

181a While there is no empirical way of discerning whether there is such an intellectual and volitional element in death, we can get a suggestion of it in terms of the ways in which people deal with death, when they are caught in a long process of dying, as in a terminal illness. As death approaches, people settle into patterns of dealing with their coming death; they adopt a certain stance in relation to it. They may want to deal with "unfinished business," heal significant relationships from the past, and find an inner peace. There may be a new sense of self-knowledge that emerges at this time. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross in her famous work On Death and Dying, speaks of a final stage of acceptance,6 but in some cases it might also be a final stage of resistance or fear. There emerges in the dying person a certain determinate attitude that they adopt toward their coming death. In this attitude we may witness in a more drawn-out manner the sort of inner decision that Boros is suggesting. (Fs)

181b Joseph Ratzinger suggests that there is something of a Platonizing element in Boros's presentation. He suggests that Boros "secretly [considers] the human condition less than acceptable."7 However, there are also some theological considerations that come into play. God is not a neutral agent in our dying. God wants all people to be saved (1 Tim 2:4), and Jesus sits at the right hand of the Father pleading for the salvation of sinners (Rom 8:34). It is not inconsistent with this understanding of God to think of the "one last chance" that the theory of a final option presents us with. Even in death itself God works for our salvation, offering us the final chance of salvation. This grace-filled offer still requires from us some form of response, a final movement of the will itself toward God. On this view, death could be our final providential moment of grace, a moment each and all experience. Death is judgment, not just for extrinsic reasons but because of the intrinsic nature of death as a final determination of our lives for (or against) God. It should also be noted that without grace a determination for God would simply be impossible, in death as much as in life. The final option is not a return to Pelagianism whereby we "save ourselves." God saves us through grace, and without grace any final option for God becomes impossible. Again, God is not a neutral judge (and certainly not a punitive judge), but always and everywhere God is a God of salvation. (Fs)

181c There is an interesting element in the tradition that might be an acknowledgment of some type of final option. The tradition speaks of the "grace of perseverance," a grace of persevering to the end (DS 1541). If grace is required until the point of death, is it not required in death itself? Nonetheless, the notion of a final option remains hypothetical, but attractive. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Tod - Gericht; visio beatifica, Himmel, Schau Gottes: philosophisches Problem: Subjekt - Objekt (Konfrontation, Platon - Assimilation, Aristoteles, Thomas); Freiheit; "quasi-formal": göttliche Natur : individuelle Seele = Form : Materie

Kurzinhalt: ... the Thomistic conception is much more difficult to comprehend, because knowledge by assimilation with the form is not really possible when the form is the divine essence. How can the intellect assimilate the divine form without becoming God?

Textausschnitt: DEATH AND JUDGMENT

182a One of the most difficult things to grasp about death is its definitive character. A traditional theology viewed death as initiating a divine judgment on our life, a definitive act that determined for the rest of eternity what our final state of blessing or suffering would be. However, we might ask why death creates such a definitive moment for us? Rahner poses the question thus:

Does God turn death into judgment because man himself in and through his death determines his own final condition, or does judgment follow death, because God has so ordained that it is this judgment, different in itself from death, and final happiness or unhappiness bestowed by God in this judgment, which brings about the finality of the personal attitude which death by itself could not produce?1
Clearly the notion of a final option adopts the first of these alternatives, but Rahner acknowledges that faith itself does not provide an answer to the question posed. What faith does tell us is that death does bring about something definitive in terms of any ongoing relationship to God and to the world. (Fs)

182b This definitive character of death cuts across any simpleminded view of death as just a transition from one state to the next, where things carry on much as before. According to the position developed above, death is not transition; it is rupture, rupture from the world, from personal relationships and perhaps even from God. Any reestablishment of relationship must come not from us but from God, as a gift of divine grace, doing what human nature as disembodied cannot do for itself Our response to such an offer is definitive because of the impact that such an unmediated experience of the divine has on our human freedom, an issue we can now consider in terms of heaven and the nature of the beatific vision. (Fs)

HEAVEN AND THE BEATIFIC VISION

182c Ask any Christians what they think life will be like in heaven and they probably will not be able to say very much. While our Christian imagination brims full of images of hell, heaven is much more difficult to envision. Even in the Divine Comedy of the great poet Dante, we find that his Inferno is much more interesting and popular than his Paradiso. Various saints warn us with images of hell, but not many attract us with images of heaven. The same could be said of the Scriptures, which are far more fulsome on hell than on heaven. Heaven is being "with Christ"; it is a banquet, a final consolation, a new heavenly city where God himself is the Temple. In more popular imagery, heaven is depicted as clouds and harps with little positively to appeal or attract us. (Fs)

183a The theological problem of heaven is made more acute by Christian belief in the beatific vision.2 Heaven is not just some earthly paradise where every material human want is fulfilled; heaven is the abode of God, the place where we see God face to face. Two scriptural verses stand out in this regard:

Beloved, we are God's children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is. (1 John 3:2)

For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. (1 Cor 13:12)

183b These verses speak of an intimacy of divine presence that goes beyond any human experience of earthly fulfillment. However, they also create a problem for theological understanding, since any account of such an immediate vision of God is full of problems that remain to be overcome. The main problem here lies in our basic anthropology. We have already contrasted Platonic and Aristotelian anthropologies on the question of the relationship between body and soul. Now we can see a further consequence of the differences between these two positions. (Fs)

For the Platonic conception of the soul/intellect in relation to its object, the basic position is one of confrontation of the knower with the known. The image behind this conception is ocular-the eye presents us with an "object" that is "out there" to be seen. The object confronts our senses as something other than ourselves. Such a position takes the "subject/object" distinction as primary and given in consciousness. The object stands over and against the subject. This position is "common sense" for most people, but it is not the position found in Aristotle and Aquinas. (Fs)

183c For both Aristotle and Aquinas the relationship between subject and object is one not of confrontation but of assimilation. What proves the spirituality of the soul/intellect is the fact that it is independent of materiality; what shows this is its ability to "become" what it knows, at least in an intentional sense. When we understand something, we do so because our intellect becomes the thing as understood. The understanding is "in us," not just in the object. So we know anything by assimilating into ourselves the form or intelligibility of the thing understood. In this account the subject/object distinction is not something given and immediate but something constructed through our growing knowledge of the world. Now while the Platonic conception of knowledge can envisage the beatific vision in terms of eternal contemplation of the divine essence on some type of analogy of sight, the Thomistic conception is much more difficult to comprehend, because knowledge by assimilation with the form is not really possible when the form is the divine essence. How can the intellect assimilate the divine form without becoming God? (Fs) (notabene)

184a The speculative difficulties involved in seeking to make some sense of the beatific vision are enormous. On my estimation, Aquinas's handling of this question in the Summa Theologiae is possibly the longest article in the whole Summa. Not only does he consider sixteen distinct objections, but he also provides six distinct sources of authority for the affirmative proposition that we do see God in his essence. In his positive account he suggests that the relationship between the divine essence and the individual soul is like the relationship between form and matter. This is the precursor to the speculations of Karl Rahner on "quasi-formal causality."3 (Fs) (notabene)

184b We might also consider the actual "content" of the beatific vision. Does it entail, for example, an experience of the omniscience of God? Do the blessed in heaven "know" everything? Here Aquinas would deny that the beatific vision involves "seeing all that God sees" or more properly "understanding all that God understands." Even in the beatific vision we do not comprehend God, that is, completely understand God-only God fully understands God. Indeed, his conception of the beatific vision is "dynamic" rather than static: "Thus the knowledge ... of the souls of the saints can go on increasing until the day of judgment, even as other things pertaining to the accidental reward" (ST Suppl. III q. 92, a. 3). One might say that the state of the blessed is dynamic and expansive, an ever-increasing consciousness of all that is. For Aquinas, however, this is a dynamism that definitely stops with the final judgment and resurrection of the dead, when we reach "the final state of things."
185a Further, this relationship to God, which is the beatific vision, grounds the possibility of a communion not only with God but also with all creatures through God. We are able to relate to all others through God's relationship to them. Thus we speak of the "communion of saints" as a vital and loving reality contributing to the ongoing mission of the church on earth. (Fs)

However, this vision of heaven is not egalitarian: some have a greater share in the light of glory than others. For Aquinas, heaven is a well-ordered society, ordered according to the merits of the saints. All enjoy heaven fully, but some have a greater capacity, a capacity developed in this life through the merits of a grace-filled virtuous life. Perhaps in our more democratic and egalitarian culture such an account is less appealing, but it does stress the permanent significance of this life and its consequences, something that is lost in a more egalitarian conception of heaven. (Fs)

185b Finally we must ask, What is the impact on our freedom of such a beatific vision? If freedom is not about choice but about orientation to the good, what are the implications for freedom when the highest good, God in God's own being, is present immediately within our human consciousness? Surely nothing can compare with such an experience, and the thought of choosing against such a divine infinite goodness is in fact unthinkable. If we think of freedom as freedom of choice, then such a statement can only be read as the elimination or destruction of our freedom. If, however, we think of freedom in terms of orientation to the good, then it is the definitive establishment of our freedom. The only example we have of such an existence is that of Jesus himself, where the church believes not only that he did not sin, but in fact he could not sin (impeccability) as a consequence of the hypostatic union.4 (Fs) (notabene)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Gericht - Hölle (3 Erklärungsversuche: verwirklichte Möglichkeit - Auflösung - reale, doch unrealisierte Möglichkeit); Fegefeuer; Origenes, apocatastasis; Thomas

Kurzinhalt: How can a God of love condemn someone to eternal punishment? ...

Textausschnitt: HELL AND PUNISHMENT

185c The notion of hell involving the possibility of eternal damnation remains one of the great sticking points, or point of tension for many modern believers.1 The question simply put is, How can a God of love condemn someone to eternal punishment? In responding it is not adequate to contrast the God of hell-fire and brimstone of the Old Testament with the God of love revealed by Jesus in the New Testament. Many of our images of hell are in fact drawn from the mouth of Jesus, for example, in Mark 9:47-48 Jesus warns, "And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, where the worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched." The notion of hell is present in both Old and New Testaments. Moreover, the notion of hell is well attested in a large variety of religious traditions-Hinduism, Buddhism, Confucianism, and Islam to name a few.2 This widespread belief points not necessarily to some universal revelation but to some underlying universal concern or experience to which a religiously attuned consciousness will inevitably respond: What are the consequences of my sins and failings? For if there are no consequences whatever, the moral life would seem to be pointless.3

186a We have already learned that the Old Testament had no clear conception of the afterlife. The principal notion is of Sheol, the underworld inhabited by the shades of the dead. This is a "washed-out" existence; the shades are not really alive, cut off from the living and from God. It is not necessarily a place of punishment or suffering in an active sense, more a place of absence or futility. The dead cannot praise God, so what is the point of existence! Some translations of the Old Testament will render Sheol as "hell" or "Hades." We have also seen how, under the pressure of persecution, Israel developed a notion of resurrection of the righteous whom God would raise from the dead so that they may be rewarded for their fidelity in the face of suffering. The same apocalyptic pressure gave rise to a sense that the wicked deserved punishment for their crimes. (Fs)

186b Images of hell are not uncommon in the New Testament. Perhaps the most memorable account is found in the last judgment scene in Matthew 25, where we find the Son of Man separating sheep from goats, with the words:

Then he will say to those at his left hand, "You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me." (Matt 25:41-43)

186c Hell is the counterpoint of the kingdom of heaven, the consequence of evil deeds (see, e.g., the parable of Dives and Lazarus in Luke 16:19-31), of a lack of forgiveness (see the parable of the unforgiving debtor in Matt 8:23-35), of sins and crimes that exclude us from the Kingdom of God (1 Cor 6:9-10). Perhaps the most graphic images of hell can be found in the book of Revelation:
Then another angel, a third, followed them, crying with a loud voice, "Those who worship the beast and its image, and receive a mark on their foreheads or on their hands, they will also drink the wine of God's wrath, poured unmixed into the cup of his anger, and they will be tormented with fire and sulfur in the presence of the holy angels and in the presence of the Lamb. And the smoke of their torment goes up forever and ever. There is no rest day or night for those who worship the beast and its image and for anyone who receives the mark of its name." Here is a call for the endurance of the saints, those who keep the commandments of God and hold fast to the faith of Jesus. (Rev 14:9-12)

187a These early Christian witnesses felt no contradiction between their proclamation of the good news of salvation and the consequences of human sin and failure to respond to the gospel or to live a moral life. (Fs)
187b While the writings of the New Testament formed the horizon of belief among the early Christian communities, there were not a few who sought to push the boundaries of the question. Based on 1 Corinthians 15:28 and his own curious blend of Christian faith and Neoplatonic thought, Origen developed the notion that in the end God would be all in all, that hell would be emptied and even Satan himself would be reconciled to God. This teaching became known as apocatastasis, or the doctrine of universal salvation. Although Origen's position was later to be condemned, he was not alone in putting forward such speculation. Others with a similar position include Gregory of Nyssa, Clement of Alexandria, and Jerome, all of whom are saints of the church. More recently, universalist tendencies can be found in the writings of Karl Barth, Karl Rahner, and Hans Urs von Balthasar. (Fs)

187c The issue of hell continues to "inflame" passions in various quarters.4 There are justified concerns in balancing divine justice and mercy, righteousness and compassion. Within the broad debate it would seem that there are two basic assertions in relation to hell on which all are agreed:
- The Church teaches the existence of hell as a "state" of eternal punishment (CCC, no. 1035)
- The Church has never taught that any particular person is actually in hell. (Fs)

188a Some might argue that the existence of Satan and the punishment of the demons (fallen angels) does in fact place some beings in hell. However, from these two basic positions theologians have developed three different accounts. (Fs)

1. Hell is a real (and realized) possibility for human beings. This is perhaps the "common teaching" of the Christian tradition. It would place in hell all those who die in a state of serious, unrepented (mortal) sin. The estimates of those damned to hell vary from the majority of the human race (Augustine's massa damnata) to a few recalcitrant sinners. Estimates probably reflect different degrees of optimism or pessimism in relation to the current historical context. (Fs)

188b The difficulties people have with this position vary. First, there is the notion of God inflicting an eternal punishment for sins. Is this fair and just? How does it fit with Jesus' revelation of God's forgiveness and mercy? Second, we have problems already identified with the definitive fixity brought about by death. Why is repentance not possible after death? And what is the value of the punishment of hell if it cannot produce repentance? Finally, how is a final eschatological state possible with some part of creation in permanent and unresolved rebellion against God? How can God then be "all in all"? These problems are resolved in one of two distinct directions outlined below. (Fs)

2. Hell is not a state of punishment but a metaphor for annihilation. Some argue that, rather than a state of punishment, hell is to be thought of as simply the annihilation of the sinner. At death, then, the sinner simply ceases to be. This position is adopted by a number of Protestant theologians, but also by Edward Schillebeeckx.5

188c This solution has a certain elegance. On the one hand, no punishment is as great as simple annihilation; removal of the gift of being is an obvious and complete repudiation of the sinner. And it is an eternal punishment, completely removing the sinner from the flow of time and even being. On the other hand, it removes the problem of an eternal process of conscious suffering on the part of the sinner, a suffering that has no redemptive goal or purpose in the sinners themselves. One might even refer to scriptural references to the "death of the soul," as distinct from the death of the body.6

188d Critics of this position can raise a number of objections. Some would find it hard to reconcile with the notion of hell as commonly taught. Some see it as excessively rationalistic, almost too neat, in the face of the mystery of God. Finally, it is difficult to reconcile with the notion of the natural immortality of the soul, which has played an important role in Catholic thought. Here we might find why it is attractive to Protestant theologians who do not necessarily accept the natural immortality of the soul. (Fs)

189a
3. Modified universalism-hell as a real but unrealized possibility. Finally there is a position akin to apocatastasis that would see hell as a real but unrealized possibility. Taking a lead from the absence of any condemnation of a person to hell, this position views hell as a real possibility (realized perhaps in the demons) but never actual in the case of human beings. For example, Edith Stein, recently canonized St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross by John Paul II, thought the likelihood of going to hell as "infinitely improbable" in light of God's prevenient grace,7 while St.Therese of Lisieux proclaimed belief in hell but entertained the possibility that hell is empty.8 This position would then consider the Gospel material on hell as a "threat discourse," something that highlights the dangers of human freedom separated from God. (Fs)

189b A further modification in von Balthasar's writings is that we must hope that all are in fact saved. We must pray and act for the salvation of all, as an element of Christian hope (CCC, no. 1058). The "rightness" of this position is evident in the horrific notion of hoping or praying that someone be condemned to hell. Avery Dulles quotes material from John Paul II that points in this direction:9
Christian faith teaches that in taking the risk of saying "yes" or "no," which marks the (human) creature's freedom, some have already said no. They are the spiritual creatures that rebelled against God's love and are called demons (cf. Fourth Lateran Council). What happened to them is a warning to us: it is a continuous call to avoid the tragedy which leads to sin and to conform our life to that of Jesus who lived his life with a "yes" to God.

Eternal damnation remains a possibility, but we are not granted, without special divine revelation, the knowledge of whether or which human I beings are effectively involved in it. The thought of hell-and even less the improper use of biblical images-must not create anxiety or despair, but is a necessary and healthy reminder of freedom within the proclamation that the risen Jesus has conquered Satan, giving us the Spirit of God who makes us cry "Abba, Father!" (Rom 8:15; Gal 4:6) (General Audience talk of July 28,1999)

190a There is no resolution of this difficult problem. We are dealing with fundamental issues of freedom, both divine and human, of grace and sin, forgiveness, compassion, and our human hardness of heart. This is the stuff of our human drama. With von Balthasar, perhaps the best we can do is hope that in fact, all are saved. (Fs)

PURGATORY-A CATHOLIC THING

190b While belief in heaven and hell is part of the common Christian tradition, Catholics have long held a belief in a third postmortem state, that of purgatory.10 Persons in purgatory are still "in process"; that is, they are moving "toward" the beatific vision, but because of the reality of sin in their lives, there is some impediment to their final enjoyment of that vision. Their state is "definitive" in that their salvation is assured. But there is still a need for transformation and growth, even after death. As with the case of infant baptism and original sin, belief in purgatory is built on the church's practice of praying for the dead, which led to the teaching, rather than vice versa. How does such prayer benefit the dead and what difference does it make? The doctrinal "answer" to these questions is belief in purgatory. (Fs) (notabene)

190c The first evidence we have of prayers for the dead is in the Second Book of Maccabees (12:43-46). After a battle between Jewish and pagan armies, Jewish fighters who had died in battle were found to have pagan amulets on their bodies-basically good luck charms. This was clearly an affront to God, but on the other hand they had died fighting for the survival of God's people. In addition, at this time speculation in relation to the afterlife was developing among the Jews. The response of the leader of the Jewish forces, Judas Maccabees, was: "It is therefore a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead, that they may be loosed from sins."This practice of praying for the dead continued in the early church; for example, the Apostolic Constitution (ca. fourth century C.E.) states:
Let us pray for our brethren who sleep in Christ, that God who in his love for men has received the soul of the departed one, may forgive him every fault, and in mercy and clemency receive him into the bosom of Abraham, with those who in this life have pleased God.11

191a There are also some scriptural texts, such as 1 Cor 3:11-15, that give some indication of a postmortem purification, but these are relatively minor and inconclusive, at least in the minds of Protestant and Orthodox Christians. (Fs)

In the Catholic tradition the most definitive teaching on the existence of purgatory is from the Council of Trent (DS 1820; also CCC, no. 1030-32). At the time of the Reformation the issue of purgatory was inseparable from the complaints raised by the reformers about the selling of indulgences. Indulgences promised to "free souls from the punishments of purgatory"; the reformers equated this with works of righteousness and buying salvation. In light of this the council fathers affirmed the existence of purgatory and the practice and efficacy of prayer for the dead, while at the same time curtailing certain scandalous practices in relation to indulgences and unhelpful speculations that "do not make for edification" (DS 1820). (Fs)

191b This, then, is the basic teaching in relation to the nature of purgatory. Our problem is to try to make some sense of it, as theologians seeking under-standing of what is believed. Apart from the existence of purgatory, the ele-ments that seem most significant are the following:
- Prayers for the dead, including indulgences, are efficacious. (Fs)

- The postmortem state is one of suffering or purification for the effects of the sins in one's life. (Fs)
- This suffering is "for a time"; that is, it is not eternal. (Fs)

191c The first thing that we should note is that these elements seem to presume that the postmortem state is not atemporal or nontemporal.The prayers of the living are a temporal reality, and if they are indeed efficacious for the dead, then it means that there is some relationship between the dead and our temporal world. Similarly the very fact that the sufferings of purgatory are not "eternal" but have a beginning and an end would indicate that there is some temporal order in the postmortem state. If nothing else, the doctrine of purgatory should disabuse us of any assumption that the postmortem state is one of timeless eternity.12 This is not to take up without some hesitation the notion of spending a number of "days in purgatory" or of indulgences being a release from so many "days in purgatory," as was once promoted in popular Catholic piety. But it is to recognize, as we have argued before, that there is an ongoing relationship between the living and the dead one that in some sense "defines" their present state. This notion of a relationship between the living and the dead may also help us understand the other two aspects of purgatory noted above. How do we understand the notion of suffering and the efficacious nature of prayer for the dead?

192a Let us begin with the notion of the suffering of the dead. Common teaching often refers to the "temporal effects of sin" in relation to purgatory. What might this mean? We know that the evil people do has its consequences in history, in the lives of people and communities. Sin impacts persons, making their own sinfulness more likely; it distorts societies through sinful structures; it distorts cultures through their justification of sinful structures (ideologies). The effects of sin radiate out through human history and do not end simply because a person has died. In a very real sense we are still feeling the "effects" of the sin of "Adam and Eve," and certainly the effects of Adolf Hitler, Josef Stalin, and Pol Pot. (Fs)

192b What is the relationship of the sinner who has died to the history of the consequences of their own sinfulness? How do they experience it? Are the dead active agents or passive in relation to the world? Passivity is itself a form of suffering. The dead may indeed "suffer" the consequences of their evil in the world, to which they are related, through their inability to do anything about it, through the awareness of their own personal responsibility for this evil. They suffer their own powerlessness; they suffer out of the love they have for those who are affected by their actions. This passivity is evident in the position of Aquinas that those in purgatory cannot even pray for the living (ST II-II q. 83, a. 11). Rather, they are in need of our prayers. (Fs)

The second aspect of this is more internal and has to do with questions of psychological continuity. In a traditional theology of grace, while God's grace is operative in the sinner, still there are "actual graces" prior to conversion proper, which create shifts or movements in the willingness of the sinner, so as to ensure that the psychological effects of conversion are not so dramatic as to cause serious breakdown. There is no reason to think that the same pattern does not pertain to our postmortem state. Most of this process can be thought of as letting go of undue attachments, a reordering of our desires toward the highest good which is God, a purification of our motivations, and so on. Such processes are not automatic in this life, nor are they likely to be in the next. Again there is a certain passivity to such a process, it is something one "undergoes" or suffers. (Fs) (notabene)

192c This brings us to the final element, the one that underpins the whole doctrine of purgatory, that of prayers for the dead. What does it mean to pray for the dead? Here again we might quote the opinion of Aquinas especially in relation to indulgences, that the primary effect of an indulgence is on the person who performs it (IV Sententiarum, dist. xlv, q. ii, a. 3, q. 2). It is not difficult to relate this to what we have discussed above. If the dead suffer the effects of their sins in the world, the changes in us brought about by our prayers can be part of the healing of that evil through:
- Promoting forgiveness in us for the person who has died-our lack of forgiveness may "bind" a person to their sins. (Fs)

- Taking on some responsibility for the evil they have done to others- repairing the damage done (reparation). (Fs)

Through actions such as these we may indeed lessen the suffering of those who have died. (Fs)
193a There are other eschatological issues that need to be explored, particularly in relation to notions of final judgment, general resurrection, and the relationship of the world to come to the present world. We shall take up these issues in the final chapter of this book. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Eschatologie - modernes Weltbild (Hubble, Einstein); Ende: Geschichte - Kosmos;

Kurzinhalt: It would seem, then, that the notion that the end of human history would be identical to the end of the cosmos may be simply incoherent.

Textausschnitt: TRADITIONAL ESCHATOLOGY

196b "We believe in the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come." We affirm these words each time we profess our common faith in the Nicene Creed. Yet few would seek to examine the meaning of this profession beyond a very general sense of "life after death." As we saw in an earlier chapter, questions of life after death are very complex, particularly if one is seeking to eliminate any residual dualism from one's intellectual perspective. However, the closer one holds to the unity of human existence as body and soul, and the more one upholds the fundamental orientation of the human spirit to materiality, the more complex become the questions one needs to address about the cosmos as a whole. This is the case particularly in light of modern conceptions of the age and size of the universe together with recent analyses of the final state of the universe. (Fs)

196c These are not problems Christian faith has ever had to face in the past. Within a biblical imagination the whole of creation consisted of a vast tent (firmament) stretched over the land to separate the waters above from the waters below and so create dry land (Gen 1:1-4). The biblical conception of the world was relatively limited in scope, so that the idea of the "end of the world" was simple to accept. God could literally "pull the plug" on creation, as occurred in the "great flood" at the time of Noah (Gen 5-8). The later apocalyptic writings of the Old and New Testaments replaced a watery end with more vivid imaginings, with the end of the world bringing fiery judgment to sinners and blessed peace to the righteous.1 These writings present images of a new heaven and a new earth which arise out of the ashes of the present world. There the dead shall see God face to face, and in their resurrected bodies live in the heavenly city, in communion with God and with one another.

197a This same basic imagination can be found throughout the history of Christian thought. For example, Thomas Aquinas taught that the resurrection of the dead would not come about until all the heavenly spheres had ceased their motion:

Hence it would be contrary to the order established in things by Divine providence if the matter of lower bodies were brought to the state of incorruption, so long as there remains movement in the higher bodies. And since, according to the teaching of faith, the resurrection will bring men to immortal life conformably to Christ Who "rising again from the dead dieth now no more" (Rm. 6:9), the resurrection of human bodies will be delayed until the end of the world when the heavenly movement will cease. (ST III Suppl.q.77,a.l)

197b The problem is that this imagination is so tied to an outmoded cosmology as to be scarcely credible to a modern scientific worldview. The fact that we repeat such imaginings, particularly those drawn from the Bible, in our Christian worldview is indicative of the huge split we maintain between our faith and the resources of contemporary culture. There is an assumption within our classical Christian imaginations that can no longer be allowed to pass uncritically. It is the assumption that the end of human history marks the end of cosmos, an assumption buried in the neat phrase "the end of the world." But which "world" are we talking about?

END OF HISTORY, END OF COSMOS?

198a It is often noted that biblical thinking is more historically oriented than cosmologically oriented. It rejects the cyclical view of the world (often a feature of more cosmologically oriented cultures, as referred to in chapter 3), which it tends to identify with paganism, to embrace a more linear view, one with a beginning, a middle, and an end. The beginning is evident in the material of Genesis 1-11, which moves from paradisal origins to a period of increasing violence and despair over human activities. The middle is the history of God's chosen people beginning with the story of Abraham (Gen 12), chosen as God's instrument to turn around human history, moving through the gift of the Torah, the prophetic critique of Israel's failures, and a messianic longing for God to fulfill the divine promises and bring the redemptive process initiated in Abraham to its completion. From a Christian perspective this history is proleptically completed in the ministry, death, and resurrection of Jesus and continued in the history of the church (particularly in Acts). Increasingly this history is viewed biblically in conflictual apocalyptic terms, a conflict between powerful forces of evil (in Christian literature captured in the symbol of the Antichrist [1 John 2:18,22; 4:3]) and God's faithful remnant, who suffer persecution at the hands of these evil forces. In the apocalyptic imagination this conflict takes on a cosmic dimension, a conflict between the angels and demons battling over the fate of the entire creation (Daniel; Book of Revelation). History is not just "secular history" but ultimately has theological significance.1 In the end victory is gained not through human achievement, which proves inadequate to the task, but through divine intervention, which snatches victory or at least vindication from the jaws of defeat. God's enemies are punished in the fires of hell, while the righteous enjoy the rewards of new life. History as we know it is brought to an end, with the coming of the Son of Man as judge of all humanity. God's kingdom will come; peace and justice will reign; every tear will be wiped away; and every sadness will be removed. Not only has human history come to an end, but the whole cosmos is implicated, leading to a "new heaven and a new earth," a new Jerusalem, where God is the temple in which we worship (Rev 21:22). (Fs)

199a It was relatively easy to maintain this linkage between the end of human history and the end of cosmos while our cosmos remained relatively small. Indeed, this was the case even up until the end of the nineteenth century.2 The biblical world consisted of the earth, the waters above and below, and lights in the sky to mark the seasons and time of day. The Ptolemaic universe was a bit bigger, placing the earth at the center with the sun, the moon, and a few planets circling around within the heavenly spheres. Copernicus may have placed the sun at the center, but still the cosmos remained a small affair. Newton's universe was marginally bigger, as people discovered more planets within our solar system and realized that the stars were much farther away than previously recognized. Growing observation displaced the sun from the center to take its place in the outer reaches of the galaxy we call the Milky Way. All this time, it remained at least partially plausible that the end of human history might be linked in some way to the end of the cosmos. However, it was only at the turn of the twentieth century, thanks to the work of Edwin Hubble, that science began to reveal just how big, and how old, the universe really is.3 Our galaxy, with its 100 billion stars, is just one of another 100 billion galaxies that we can presently observe. The size of the universe is staggering, in comparison with the very limited imaginations of the early biblical writers. It becomes increasingly unlikely that the end of human history would be of any consequence to the rest of the cosmos, which would continue on its merry path with barely a hiccup to note our passing. (Fs)

199b The problem is made more difficult if we attempt to absorb the insights of Einstein's theory of relativity. Einstein's theory of special relativity argues that certain features of space and time are relative to observers. Distance and time shift as observers move relative to one another. The truth of Einstein's theory has been verified to remarkable accuracy in experiments with subatomic particles, whose rate of decay varies precisely as predicted with their motion relative to laboratory observer. One of the many consequences of Einstein's theory is that the simultaneity of spatially removed events is also relative to observers. Two observers moving relative to each other will not be able to agree that spatially removed events are simultaneous with one another. There is no universal measure of time on which all observers will agree.4

200a This observation is important when we ask questions about the relationship between the end of the cosmos and the end of history. The end of human history, when it does come either through our own stupidity (ecological disaster) or violence (nuclear weapons), or through cosmic events (asteroids impacting, or the sun going supernova), will be a relatively distinct temporal event. The end of the cosmos, on the other hand, cannot be a distinct temporal event in the same way. The universe cannot "blink out of existence" because this would imply a common, nonrelative measure of simultaneity, in violation of special relativity. The effect of any temporal event can spread out only at the speed of light. It would seem, then, that the notion that the end of human history would be identical to the end of the cosmos may be simply incoherent. (Fs)

200b It is fair to say that our Christian imaginations have simply not caught up with these scientific perspectives. Most of us, theologians included, still live imaginatively in a three-dimensional Newtonian universe rather than the four-dimensional space-time universe uncovered by Einstein.5 In general the differences this might make to our theology are minimal; however, there is one question that does need exploration where the distinction between the end of human history and the end of cosmos makes a big difference. The question is, When do we think of the resurrection of the dead as occurring? When we speak of resurrection at the end of the world, what exactly is our reference point? Finally we have to realize how completely new this question is. It can only seriously arise in the modern era when we realize the real distinction between the end of human history and the end of the cosmos. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Auferstehung der Toten - Unsterblichkeit der Seele (Wunder, Kopie); Ende des Kosmos vs. E. d. Geschichte; 2. thermodynamisches Gesetz; stete Ausdehnung vs. Big Crunch (Masse);

Kurzinhalt: If, however, we seek to maintain the notion of natural immortality of the soul and the necessity of resurrection as the reestablishment of intimate connection with the materiality, then the question remains, When do we locate the general resurrection ...

Textausschnitt: THE RESURRECTION OF THE DEAD

200c Of course, the more Platonic our thinking, the less interested we are in such a question. If resurrection is viewed as just a religious metaphor for "life after death," conceived in terms of the continued existence of our spiritual soul (and nothing more), then the fate of both human history and the cosmos is of little interest to us. The material universe is like an eggshell, something we discard as we emerge into a new spiritual form of existence. Matter no longer matters and only spirit survives. (Fs)

200d It seems to me, however, that this sells short Christian belief in the resurrection of the dead. Throughout this work we have emphasized the fundamental unity of body and soul. This is clearly part of the biblical understanding of human existence, and it is further supported by the philosophical account of human existence given by Thomas Aquinas. Further, modern biology is making ever clearer the close connections between mind and brain. The human spirit is not a separate substance from our bodies; it is a higher-order integration of all our physical, chemical, biological, and psychic systems, on which it depends for its proper operation, particularly operations of memory, understanding, and reasoning. A disembodied soul may possess a natural immortality, but of its own natural resources its capacities to remember, to understand, and to reason are severely compromised. Its natural orientation is to the material world, and the grace of beatitude does not destroy this orientation but completes and perfects it. Hence the need for resurrection, not just as a purely spiritual event, but as something that reestablishes the relationship between the soul and the material order.1 (Fs)

Resurrection versus Immortality of the Soul

201a It has become common to claim an opposition between notions of resurrection and natural immortality of the soul. Often this opposition is expressed in terms of some supposed opposition between biblical revelation and Greek philosophy.2 We have already indicated the inadequacy of this opposition in other areas and here again it is misplaced. Some argue that resurrection is simply a miracle of God and so does not require any notion of natural immortality. God can raise me up by simply recreating me, with all my memories and other relevant attributes. However, such a notion of resurrection is indistinguishable from replication. If God can recreate me, God can also create multiple copies of me with all my memories and other attributes. Unless there is a spiritual component which is an essential constituent of my existence that survives death, a spiritual component that is then reunited to materiality, then it is not me that is being resurrected but rather a replica of me that God creates. Resurrection in fact requires the natural immortality of the soul to be meaningful.3
202a The problem we face is one of timing. When do we place the general resurrection of the dead? The traditional answer-at "the end of the world"-raises more problems than it solves. Do we mean the end of the cosmos, however we might measure this, or do we mean the end of human history, an event we can plausibly locate sometime in the near future (cosmically speaking)?
Some seek to solve this question by abolishing it. Resurrection is then said to occur "immediately"; that is, the dead are raised immediately by God.4 Either this is conceived as a "spiritual" event, or, while it may be "future for us" in our temporal existence, it is immediate in terms of our experience, for we experience no temporal gap between our death and our resurrection. This is a "neat" solution in that it makes any gap between the end of cosmos and end of history irrelevant, since our lack of any conscious experience of such a gap means that it makes no real difference to us how long the gap might be. However, it also renders meaningless any notion of the natural immortality of the soul, since on this account the immortality would be "unconscious," which really defeats the significance of any such immortality.5

202b If, however, we seek to maintain the notion of natural immortality of the soul and the necessity of resurrection as the reestablishment of intimate connection with the materiality, then the question remains, When do we locate the general resurrection of the dead?

202c Let us explore the possibility that the resurrection is at the end of the cosmos when, as Aquinas states, "the heavenly movement will cease" (ST III Suppl. q. 77, a. 1). Now just as theology has been forced to abandon literal readings of Genesis in relation to the creation of the world and work with modern scientific accounts of creation, so too in the area of eschatology we should begin to reevaluate our Christian imaginings about the end of the world and begin to consider what science is telling us about cosmic unraveling. Given the fact that God established the world according to scientific processes, there is no reason to expect that the final stages of the universe will be anything other than according to those same processes. Just as creation is not a series of divine interventions, as proposed by so-called "scientific creationism" or "intelligent design," so too the end of all things is likely to occur according to the inner dynamics already discernible through the insights of modern science. If that is in fact the case, then the "end of the cosmos" is an event billions of years in the future (a Big Crunch), if indeed it can be thought of as an event at all, since in some cosmologies the "heavenly movement" simply never ceases. We shall consider two major scenarios in the next section below, but in none of the commonly accepted possibilities are we looking at a short time frame. (Fs)

203a The advantage of placing resurrection at the end of the cosmos is that, given the power of God and that we are starting literally with a clean slate, we can say anything we like about resurrection. God can recreate a new heaven and a new earth ex nihilo, discarding the old as simply no longer relevant. The difficulty is attempting to find some meaning in the interim state, the gap of billions of years between our own personal death and the final resurrection of the dead. What does one do with all that time? What is the meaning of such a large gap? In the absence of a human presence, does the universe continue to have theological significance? It makes the above suggestion of there being no conscious experience of the gap, or no interim period, look very attractive. (Fs)

203b The alternative is to view the general resurrection as being at the end of human history, as marking the completion of all human existence in its current form. While human history in its current form has drawn to a close, human beings as resurrected have an ongoing, meaningful, and effective participation with the rest of cosmic history. The new heaven and the new earth, then, are not a creation ex nihilo, but rather the transformation of our existing cosmos into a new and higher form of existence, suggested by Wright's use of the term "transphysical."6 Is this plausible or have we entered into the realm of science fiction?

203c The advantage of this position is that it affirms the ongoing value of the present material cosmos. It is not simply a shell to be discarded, but is taken up into a new mode of existence, resurrected existence, so that the history of human relationship to the cosmos does not come to an end with the death of the last remaining human being. Matter matters, especially for the ongoing resurrected state of human beings who by the power of God are brought back into an active relationship with the material order. The difficulty with this position remains one of confronting what it is that science tells us about the end of the cosmos. If resurrection involves an ongoing relationship with the material universe as we currently know it, then the fate of that universe is a matter of theological interest. What, then, does science say about the fate of the universe? Just as cosmology has forced us to shift our imaginations about how the world began, so too cosmology is forcing us to shift our eschatological imagination as well. What, then, does cosmology tell us about the ultimate fate of the physical universe, and should this be a matter of concern for theology?

204a While in the early twentieth century cosmologists drew on the Second Law of Thermodynamics to argue that the universe would end in a state of "heat death" with the eventually dissipation of all energy to its lowest, uniform level across the universe, more modern accounts are more complex and difficult to conceptualize. We know that the universe is in a state of expansion at present. It has been so since the "Big Bang" some fifteen billion years ago. However, the end result of this process of expansion is not clear. Will the universe continue to expand forever-whatever "forever" might mean for a physical universe? Or will its expansion cease, to be followed by a "Big Crunch," whereby the universe will, at some time in the future, collapse back down to a superheated mass, similar to that from which the original Big Bang emerged? The answers to such questions depend on the total mass of the universe, which is not so easy to ascertain. If the overall mass of the universe is large enough, eventually the force of gravity might well be enough to induce a Big Crunch. If the mass is less than a critical level it will expand forever. The matter of the universe will dissipate into fundamental nuclear particles, and even this may disintegrate into energy spread over more and more vast regions of space.7

204b At face value neither of these would seem to be an attractive scenario. The long-term prospects for some type of continuing involvement in cosmic history through the resurrection of humanity do not seem very likely. Indeed, it would be more than tempting to revert to a more "spiritual" understanding of resurrection simply as a way of avoiding the problem. Is there any way, let alone any point, in conceiving of continued human engagement with a cosmos whose fate is either to collapse into a fiery ball or to dissipate into ultimate oblivion?
204c Things are not that simple, however. Physicist Frank Tipler has been investigating the possibilities present within the universe for continued order and meaning in the various cosmic scenarios that face us. Tipler s approach reads like science fiction, with the deployment of self-replicating von Neumann machines which "embody" human meanings and values and spread throughout the galaxy and eventually the universe.8 At each stage of future cosmic evolution these machines could, with appropriate technological advances, find the necessary surplus energy to continue to manipulate matter, even to the point of "resurrecting" human beings through computer simulations. Eventually the whole cosmos would be brought under "intelligent" control, reaching whatTipler refers to as the "Omega point" of cosmic evolution.9

205a It is of course not my intention to endorse Tipler's suggestions, which many might consider verge on a caricature of genuine Christian belief. On Tipler's account, resurrection is a technological achievement, not a gift from God. However, his work does represent a steadfast refusal to adopt a "spiritualized" account of resurrection that would make the ongoing existence of the universe after the death of the last human being a matter of no theological interest. This is the question that remains for us to consider. To find some answer we might turn to the only clear account of resurrection that we know of, that of Jesus, and see what it might teach us. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Auferstehung der Toten - Botschoaft Jesus; Kontinuität (Identität) - Diskontinuität (Erscheinung); J.: bleibende Verbindung: Kirche, Welt, Geschichte; menschliches, göttliches Bewusstsein Jesu - a-kosmisch ?; A. Marias; andauernde Christifizierung

Kurzinhalt: The risen Jesus not only has a role in the ongoing history of the church, and humanity more generally; his resurrection is of cosmic significance: ... the resurrection in fact proves Jesus' full humanity. Human beings require resurrection, and the ...

Textausschnitt: THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS-WHAT DOES IT TEACH US?

205b We have considered two distinct scenarios in relation to resurrection. One stresses the discontinuity between our current state and our resurrected state. God raises us up from the ashes of the old world, starting as it were with a clean slate. The other stresses the continuity between our current state and our resurrected state. The new heaven and the new earth emerge in the midst of the present cosmos, transforming it from within. Does the resurrection of Jesus help shed any light on these options?

205c Certainly in the resurrection of Jesus we find elements of continuity and of discontinuity. There is a strong element of continuity in terms of personal identity. It is Jesus who is raised from the dead; it is Jesus who initiates a new relationship with his disciples (Matt 28:9, 18; Luke 24:15); it is Jesus who breaks the bread and opens up the Scriptures on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:25-30). But there is a discontinuity in the form of existence. The risen Jesus is not a revivified corpse; his appearances and disappearances do not conform to those of a normal bodily existence (Luke 24:31; John 20:19); even his closest friends find it difficult to recognize him (John 20:11-16). In 1 Corinthians 15 Paul attempts to give expression to these elements of continuity and discontinuity, but one would be hard pressed at the end of the day to say that he sheds much light on the precise nature of the resurrection:
But someone will ask, "How are the dead raised? With what kind of body do they come?" Fool! What you sow does not come to life unless it dies. And as for what you sow, you do not sow the body that is to be, but a bare seed, perhaps of wheat or of some other grain. But God gives it a body as he has chosen, and to each kind of seed its own body. Not all flesh is alike, but there is one flesh for human beings, another for animals, another for birds, and another for fish. There are both heavenly bodies and earthly bodies, but the glory of the heavenly is one thing, and that of the earthly is another. There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars; indeed, star differs from star in glory. So it is with the resurrection of the dead. What is sown is perishable, what is raised is imperishable. It is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory. It is sown in weakness, it is raised in power. It is sown a physical body, it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a physical body, there is also a spiritual body. Thus it is written, "The first man, Adam, became a living being"; the last Adam became a life-giving spirit. But it is not the spiritual that is first, but the physical, and then the spiritual. The first man was from the earth, a man of dust; the second man is from heaven. As was the man of dust, so are those who are of the dust; and as is the man of heaven, so are those who are of heaven. Just as we have borne the image of the man of dust, we will also bear the image of the man of heaven. (1 Cor 15:35-49)1

206a There is another element of continuity and discontinuity in terms of the ongoing presence of Jesus with his church. If we follow the Lukan account, then the risen Jesus ascends into heaven with the promise that he will return at the end of time (Acts 1:9-11). For John, too, Jesus must return to the Father (John 20:17). For Matthew, however, the risen Jesus promises his eternal presence to the disciples, without any suggestion of withdrawal or ascension (Matt 28:20). Paul talks of the church as the body of Christ (1 Cor 12:12-27), and Jesus speaks of the blessed and broken bread as his body (Matt 26:26-28).

206b One thing, however, that is constant in this whole account is that the risen Jesus is not detached from his church or from the world. Luke may have Jesus ascend, but he also has the risen Jesus confront Paul with his actions in persecuting the church (Acts 9:3-5). Jesus may be "in heaven," but he pleads for sinners at the right hand of the Father (Rom 8:34). At the final judgment Jesus reveals his continual personal identification with the poor, the imprisoned, the hungry, and the naked and judges us in terms of our response to their needs (Matt 25:31-46). Is this identification "general"or "specific"? Does he identify with the poor in some general way, and only with each individual because of this generic identification, or does he know and love each one of them personally, so that he identifies specifically with one and all? Is Paul correct when he claimed that "the Son of God ... loved me and gave Himself for me" (Gal 2:20)? It would seem that for the authors of the New Testament, Jesus had an ongoing, active, and intentional relationship with human history. (Fs)

207a However, the story does not end there. The risen Jesus not only has a role in the ongoing history of the church, and humanity more generally; his resurrection is of cosmic significance: "as a plan for the fullness of time, to gather up all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth" (Eph 1:10). "Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth" (Phil 2:9-10). "Through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross" (Col 1:20). The whole of creation is brought under the reign of Christ, not just our human history. The incarnation and resurrection are events predestined before time to bring the whole of creation together under God. (Fs)

207b Before we proceed with this, there are two issues that require clarification. The first is the misunderstanding, not uncommon, that the humanity of Jesus somehow becomes inactive or irrelevant with the resurrection. It is as if the resurrection of Jesus eliminates the humanity of Jesus and replaces it with his divinity. An apologetic theology would often argue that the resurrection "proves" the divinity of Jesus. As is clear from the anthropology developed in this work, however, the resurrection in fact proves Jesus' full humanity. Human beings require resurrection, and the resurrection of Jesus is required for him to be a continuing agent in human history. The human consciousness of Jesus continues as a human consciousness and is not absorbed into or eliminated by his divine consciousness.2 (Fs) (notabene)

207c The second issue regards the commonly stated notion that the risen Jesus "transcends space and time." Rahner, for example, speaks of the resurrected state as pan-cosmic, as no longer bound by the limitations of space and time.3 Again, this notion needs to be critically reevaluated in light of contemporary understandings of the nature of the universe. Clearly Rahner's notion of a pan-cosmic relationship is an advance on an a-cosmic existence, with all its Platonic overtones.4 We need to ask, however, whether the risen Jesus is no longer bound by the spatio-temporal structure of the universe? Strictly speaking, an agent who transcends space and time can also act backwards in time, another consequence of Einstein's theory of relativity.5 Are we to think of the risen Jesus as active prior to his own death, or his own birth? Does he exercise a reverse temporal causality? Here again, the distinction between the human and the divine in Jesus is very important. While the divine consciousness of Jesus, the consciousness of the Logos as the second person of the Trinity, does transcend space and time, it is not at all clear that this is the case for the human consciousness of Jesus, even the risen Jesus. (Fs) (notabene)

208a If this is the case, then the "Christification"of the universe is still in process, not just because human history is still caught in the dialectic of grace and sin, but also because the human consciousness of the risen Jesus does not yet encompass the universe as a whole. In this regard, Peter Chirico contrasts the type of conception of the resurrection commensurate with a static worldview, with the type commensurate with a dynamic worldview. A static worldview gives rise to the concept of a static unrestricted subject who:

would be one whose self-differentiation would be conceived as totally developed in regard to the world in which he lived. Every capacity of this subject within that world would be developed to its fullest extent possible ... The static fully developed subject would live in a static world and would fully grasp himself and the world.6

208b On the other hand, a dynamic worldview gives rise to the concept of a dynamic unrestricted human subject who "would constantly be expanding within a constantly expanding world, a world whose intelligibility would be ceaselessly increasing." Chirico argues that the risen Jesus exists as such a dynamic unrestricted human subject. (Fs)

208c We might also ask questions about the traditional notion of the communion of saints. It is clearly part of Catholic tradition to pray to those who it holds have been taken into divine intimacy with God in heaven (especially in the case of Mary the Mother of Jesus (CCC, no. 2675]). There is a strong sense that the saints "intervene" on our behalf, that our prayers to them are not in vain, and that through their mediation divine favor may be granted us. In extraordinary cases this may mean miracles, events that seem to go beyond our normal expectation of what is possible. Are such actions personal or impersonal, intentional or unintentional? Do they arise from a real sense of personal relationship with the one who prays? Do they represent a real, active, and personal relationship between those in the "church triumphant" and those in the "church militant"?

209a This is most notable in the church's teaching on Mary, "assumed body and soul into heaven." Consider the formal decree of this teaching:

Consequently, just as the glorious resurrection of Christ was an essential part and the final sign of this victory, so that struggle which was common to the Blessed Virgin and her divine Son should be brought to a close by the glorification of her virginal body, for the same Apostle says: "When this mortal thing hath put on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: Death is swallowed up in victory." Hence the revered Mother of God, from all eternity joined in a hidden way with Jesus Christ in one and the same decree of predestination, immaculate in her conception, a most perfect virgin in her divine motherhood, the noble associate of the divine Redeemer who has won a complete triumph over sin and its consequences, finally obtained, as the supreme culmination of her privileges, that she should be preserved free from the corruption of the tomb and that, like her own Son, having overcome death, she might be taken up body and soul to the glory of heaven where, as Queen, she sits in splendour at the right hand of her Son, the immortal King of the Ages. (Pius XII, Munificentissimus Deus, [1950], DS 3902)

209b One might notice immediately the strong parallels between the language of assumption and the language of resurrection. One gets the strong impression that while Jesus may be the "firstborn" of the new creation (Col 1:18) and exemplar of all our resurrections (Rom 8:29), nonetheless, resurrection is not restricted to Jesus alone (see also Matt 27:50-53 for a more scriptural example).
209c What conclusions may we draw from this discussion? I would suggest that resurrection of the dead is not into an a-cosmic state, nor a pan-cosmic state, but into a state of ongoing, active, and effective relationship with human history, and beyond that with the ongoing processes of the whole cosmos. This is not something brought about by one's own "natural" powers, but through the power of God operating through and in those who have died. The new creation of the resurrection does not involve the discarding of the old order, but rather its being taken up in a new and more creative way. Through resurrection the history of the cosmos can be open to become part of an ongoing human history in ways we may find difficult to imagine. (Fs)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Letztes, persönliches Gericht; Kain, Abel

Kurzinhalt: I would argue for an intrinsic connection between the final judgment and the end of human history. The end of human history could come about from a variety of reasons.

Textausschnitt: FINAL JUDGMENT

210a The New Testament refers frequently to a not-too-distant judgment, a judgment that will involve the return of the Son of Man, who will come in glory to "separate the sheep from the goats." As the Nicene Creed affirms: "He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead, and his kingdom will have no end." Often this is viewed as initiating a general resurrection of the dead: "We look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come."

The problem that confronts us is what exactly the purpose of this general final judgment might be. If there is judgment at death for each individual, what purpose does such a final judgment hold? Does it simply duplicate each individual judgment or is there something else that is the object of judgment in this final setting?

210b The first thing that needs to be demythologized is the type of Hollywood apocalyptic scenario, where Jesus in his second coming appears in the clouds dispensing bolts of lightning on God's enemies. Much of this arises from an imagination that is almost premodern in nature. For example, where exactly will Jesus appear? Over Washington? Moscow? London? Jerusalem? Wherever he appears, half the world will be in daylight, the other half in nighttime.1 Most will certainly not be able to see him, if this is how we imagine his second coming. (Fs)

Moreover, we need to ask, as Rahner does in relation to the connection between death and personal judgment,2 Does the second coming of Jesus initiate final judgment and the "end of the world," or does the "end of the world," understood as the end of human history in its current form, initiate final judgment? Perhaps we are looking at some type of final assessment of human history as a whole coming at the end of human history, something that is not just the sum of its individual parts (personal judgments)? Just as sin has a transpersonal and historical element, so too final judgment may well embrace these transpersonal and historical elements as a final estimation of the human race as a whole. (Fs)

210c Just as Rahner argues for an intrinsic connection between death and personal judgment, I would argue for an intrinsic connection between the final judgment and the end of human history. The end of human history could come about from a variety of reasons. It is not unlikely that we will be the arbiters of our own fate, as the means of mass destruction become easier to create and the sources of conflict take on an increasingly global reach. Alternatively, our present inability to tackle our growing ecological problems could be the deciding issue.3 Such an end to human history would itself be a form of judgment, a judgment on the deep-seated nature of the problem of evil, both in the individual and in human history as a whole. It would also be a time of testing, of trial, with a corresponding temptation to despair and hopelessness. Indeed, we might well pray, "do not bring us to the time of trial" (Luke 11:4). (Fs)

211a Second, we must consider the divine response to such a human calamity. Would this apparent triumph of evil in human history be the last word, a final whimper with no one left to hear it? Or would it be the occasion for the coming of God's definitive Word to pronounce a judgment that redeems all that was good and true in our difficult, troublesome history, even while casting aside the destructive elements that brought human history to its end? If God is indeed the creator God and Lord of history, then it is fitting that the end of history be intrinsically linked to judgment and the second coming of Christ. (Fs)

211b Third, if all that is true and good in human history is to be redeemed at the end of history, can this mean anything less than the resurrection of the dead? The pattern of suffering, death, and final vindication through resurrection is, after all, the pattern of Jesus himself. Should we expect anything less for the totality of human history itself? None of this implies that the end of human history would be a good thing, or an end to be sought after. Indeed it would be nothing less than an appalling evil and an indictment on human history. The resurrection is not about justifying the evil but about redeeming and vindicating the good that evil seeks to destroy. It is the divine response of drawing good out of evil, a creatio ex nihilo. And it clearly indicates that the hope of human history does not lie in human hands, as in the liberal myth of progress or a communist dream of a workers' paradise or in Frank Tipler's notion of resurrection through cybernetic reconstruction.4 Our hope lies in God alone. (Fs)

211c While the precise content of this final judgment remains open, the criteria are clearly spelled out in Matthew's Gospel:

Then the king will say to those at his right hand, "Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me." (Matt 25:34-36)

212a What this passage reveals is Jesus' complete sense of solidarity with the poor, the dispossessed, the weak, and the vulnerable in human history. Human history, from the perspective of the powerful, the rich, and the strong, will be turned on its head. They will no longer be able to "call the shots" or "take control of the situation." Rather, they will be brought low:

And Mary said,
"My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever." (Luke 1:46-55)

212b How will human history be judged on such criteria? How does human history look to indigenous peoples who have been dispossessed of their land and their culture, through colonization and economic exploitation? How does it look to the millions of poor in Africa, stricken by AIDS, who do not have access to expensive drugs and other treatments? How does it look to slum dwellers in the sprawling cities of third world countries who must eke a living out of the garbage of the rich elites of those countries? Will they be as generous to us in their assessment of human history as we have been to them in the living of that history? The parable of Dives and Lazarus hangs over the whole of human history (Luke 16:19-31). (Fs)

212c In his perceptive work Raising Abel, James Alison tells a moving parable of the eschatological reconciliation of Abel with his brother Cain.5 Cain is drawing to the close of his life, after a lifetime of struggle with the violence his murder of Abel unleashed. He lives in fear and under a cloud of guilt for the primordial murder of his brother, a murder born not of hatred but of envy, a "devastating excess of love that grasps at being."6 As he struggles yet again to go to sleep, he notices an intruder entering into his bare hut. He fears that this intruder will unleash the final act of violence against him; the intruder is young and strong in comparison with his frailty and age. But the intruder reveals himself to be his brother Abel, returned from the dead. This encounter between Cain and Abel, between brother murderer and murdered brother, is not a pleasant one for Cain, as it revives all his memories of the distant event and the way in which it shaped the rest of his life's journey. (Fs)

Nevertheless, the young brother doesn't let him off this strange trial, for in this court, the younger brother is victim, attorney, and judge, and the trial is the process of unblaming the one who did not dare to hear an accusation that never comes. Strangely, as his memory takes body, the old man begins to feel less and less the weight of the threatened end, which he had almost heard roaring about his ears. And he is right to lose that feeling, for the end has already come, but not as threat: it has come as his brother who forgives . .. [I]n this ... does the Christian faith consist: in the return of Abel as forgiveness for Cain, and the return of Abel not only as a decree of forgiveness for Cain, but as an insistent presence which gives Cain time to recover his story.7

213a Indeed, we can witness this same drama unfolding in the accounts of the resurrection of Jesus. We have become so familiar with the story of the resurrection of Jesus as "good news" that we forget the implications this resurrection might have held for his disciples. These are the ones who deserted Jesus at the time of his greatest need. Peter had denied him three times. All this occurred after their protestations that they would stick with him to the end (Matt 26:30-35). If you were one of his disciples, how would you react to suggestions that Jesus had risen from the dead? We are all familiar with the story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus, but we do not always attend to the fact that they have already heard news that Jesus is risen (Luke 24:22-24). They do not hang around to celebrate, but head off in the opposite direction, along the road to Emmaus. The risen Jesus may well provoke fear for the disciples. How will he react to their desertion and betrayal? Will be bring vengeance and punishment? Rather, what we hear is a constant refrain, "Do not be afraid; peace be with you" (Matt 28:10; Luke 24:37; John 20:20,21,26). Jesus brings not punishment but the offer of forgiveness. Thomas, the one who doubts the truth of the resurrection, must confront the reality of the suffering that Jesus endured-"place your hands in my wounds" (see John 20:27)-in order for this forgiveness to penetrate his heart. Like the parable of Cain and Abel above, he encounters that reality not as blame and guilt but as an outpouring of love and forgiveness through the "insistent presence" of the risen Lord. (Fs)

214a Can we find in this a model for the final judgment of human history, a judgment where the victims are judge? The complexity of the model is evident when we realize that we are all in our own way both victim and perpetrator, both sinner and sinned against. Only in Jesus do we find the pure and spotless victim (Heb 9:14; 1 Pet 1:18-19), the one who through a voluntary act of solidarity has identified himself with that which is victim in us all. Through this act of identification he becomes Abel to our Cain, not in accusation (the role of Satan) but in mediating forgiveness and reconciliation to the whole of human history. This is the final judgment of human history, where the voices of the victims are finally heard, where restorative justice is finally effected, and where a new and glorious human community can live to the glory of God, in the radiance of their risen Lord:

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more for the first things have passed away."... I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb. And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God is its light, and its lamp is the Lamb. The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it. Its gates will never be shut by day-and there will be no night there. People will bring into it the glory and the honor of the nations. (Rev 21:1-4; 22-26)
The Spirit and the bride say, "Come." And let everyone who hears say, "Come." And let everyone who is thirsty come. Let anyone who wishes take the water of life as a gift. (Rev 22:17)

Autor: Ormerod, Neil

Buch: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Titel: Creation, Grace, and Redemption

Stichwort: Gnade - De Lubac (zwei Hauptthesen): natürliches Verlangen nach Gott: konstitutiv für menschl. Natur -- Ablehnung des Begriffs einer "rein" menschl. Natur (historisches, spekulatives Argument); Pius XII, Humani Generis

Kurzinhalt: The first major thesis of de Lubac's theology is that we are all constituted by a natural desire for God, that this desire is constitutive of our human nature, and that we are freely constituted in this way precisely because ...

Textausschnitt: 118b De Lubac's position was spelled out in two works, a historical study of the concept and doctrines concerning the supernatural, entitled Supernaturel, and a later, more thorough work that sought to respond to some of the criticisms of his earlier work, while restating its main theses, entitled The Mystery of the Supernatural.1

118c The first major thesis of de Lubac's theology is that we are all constituted by a natural desire for God, that this desire is constitutive of our human nature, and that we are freely constituted in this way precisely because God has destined us for the beatific vision. God has willed us to be the way we are, to have a certain "nature" precisely because in the providential ordering of creation we are destined to attain God as God is in Godself. God creates us with a certain finality, and that finality is intrinsic to our nature, to what we are. This position preserves the gratuity of grace because God has freely chosen to create us as beings destined for Godself. However, our desire in itself is ineffective, incapable of attaining that which it desires. De Lubac is here rejecting a position that would think of abstract natures as existing apart from the totality of creation itself, with detachable or interchangeable finalities. (Fs) (notabene)

119a The minor thesis that de Lubac draws from this intrinsic account of grace and its gratuity is that, although God freely chooses to create us with a given finality, once that free decision has been made, "God does not renege on completing a tendency freely willed by Godself. The desire is also, therefore, absolutely, unconditioned and unfrustratable on God's part."2 Therefore, God will not deny the beatific vision to beings so constituted. This was a sticking point for many of de Lubac's contemporaries. Why is this suggestion a problem? The natural desire to see God is so clearly linked with the desire to know (see the text above from Aquinas), and that desire to know is constitutive of us as rational and hence spiritual creatures. Consequently, de Lubac seemed to be concluding that God could not create rational creatures without destining them for the beatific vision. It appears to thus undermine the gratuity of grace. This was a position that was later to be explicitly rejected by Pius XII in his encyclical Humani Generis.3 (Fs) (notabene)

119b The second major thesis of de Lubac's theology is his attack on the concept of pure nature, an attack that is twofold. First, on the historical level he argues that the concept was unknown to the early church fathers, that it is a misinterpretation of Aquinas, and that the uniform position of the early fathers is that human beings have a single end, that is supernatural. Second, at the speculative level de Lubac argues that the hypothesis of pure nature, while invented to preserve the gratuitousness of grace, does nothing of the sort. In the concrete historical order, we are in fact oriented to grace, so a merely hypothetical construct that protects the gratuity of grace in a hypothetical order tells us nothing about the gratuity of grace in this historical order. A hypothetical humanity in an order of pure nature would simply not be the same humanity we currently experience. (Fs) (notabene)

119c The strength of de Lubac's position is his attempt to overcome the static conceptualist worldview that has dominated the standard position since Cajetan. This position viewed natures as preexisting in the mind of God (like Platonic ideas), who then created a world in which to implant these natures. De Lubac reminds us that God created natures always and already embedded in a particular world order. He also restored the Thomistic position regarding the "natural" desire to see God, which had got lost in the standard position of Cajetan. This helped overcome the extrinsicism of the standard position, which denied any element of human experience in regard to the supernatural.4 The weakness was that he pushed his argument too far. While one may agree that it is fitting for God to ordain a supernatural end for all rational creatures, such fittingness is not a demonstration of necessity. (Fs)