-- A. Revelation and Scripture.
Ueber das Wunder, Stud. u. Kr. 1886, 3tes Heft. Dorner, Glaub. I 569 f. 583 f. Philippi, Kirchl. Glaub. I 25 f. Saussaye, Mine Theol. 36 v.
Oosterzee, Dogm. I 205 f. Kuyper, Out of the Word II 69 f. III 114 f.
Encycl. II 369 f. 446 f. Muller, Natur und Wunder, Strassburg, Herder 1892 and the there S. XV f. appended litt., Gondal, Le miracle, Paris, Roger et Chernoviz 1894.
3. THE HOLY SCRIPTURES.
A. Revelation and Scripture.
1. The history of religions shows not only an intimate connection between religion and revelation, but further also between revelation and writing. Magical formulas, liturgical texts, ritual tracts, ceremonial laws, priestly documents, historical and mythological literature, etc., are found in the religious domain among all cultures.
But in an even narrower sense, there is talk of sacred writings in religions. Many peoples also have a book or a collection of books, which have divine authority and serve as the rule of doctrine and life.
These include the Shu-king of the Chinese, the Veda of the Indians, the Tripitaka of the Buddhists, the Avesta of the Persians, the Koran of the Mohammedans, the Old Testament of the Jews and the Bible of the Christians. Together these seven are referred to by Max
Muller, Vorlesungen über den Ursprung der Religion 1880 S. 149 with the name of the book religions. This phenomenon alone indicates that revelation and writing cannot be in a casual, random relationship. Even the history of the teaching of the Koran offers remarkable parallels with that of the dogma of the Scriptures in the Christian church, M. Th. Houtsma, De strijd over het dogma in den
Islam tot op El-Ash'ari, Leiden 1875 bl. 96 v. See further on the holy books Ch. de la Saussaye, Lehrb. der Rel. Gesch. I 137 f. Lamers,
Wetenschap v. d. godsd. II 249 f. Max Müller, Theosophy or
psychological religion 1893. Lecture 2 : The value of the sacred books.
Now, first of all, thought and word, thought and speech, are intimately related to each other. They are not, however, identical, as Max Muller, Vorlesungen iïber die Wissenschaft der Sprache I 3e
Aufl. 1875 S. 459, Das Denken im Lichte der Sprache, Leipzig 1888 S.
70-115 thinks; for there is also a thought, a consciousness, a realization, however unclear, without a word. Homo enim nihil potest dicere, quod non etiam sentire possit; potest etiam aliquid sentire, quod dicere non possit, Augustine, Serm. 117. c. 5. But the word is first and foremost the mature, self-sufficient and fully developed and therefore also the clear, lucid thought; an indispensable tool for conscious thought. Language is the soul of the nation, the keeper of the goods and treasures of mankind, the bond between men and peoples and generations, the one great tradition which unites the world of mankind, one in physic, also in consciousness. But just as the thought is embodied in the word, so the word is embodied in the writing. Language too is nothing but an organism of signs, but of audible signs. And the audible sign naturally seeks stability in the visible sign, in writing. Writing is actually the art of drawing, and occurs in this broad sense among all peoples, but has gradually developed from drawing and pictorial writing through word or conceptual writing into typescript. However refined and increased in accuracy, it is imperfect. Our thinking, says
Augustine, the trin. 7, 4, the doctr. christ. 1, 6 remain behind the case, our thinking behind our speaking; and so also there is a great distance between word and writing. Sounds are always only approximated in visible signs. Thinking is richer than speaking, and speaking richer than writing. Yet writing is of great value and significance. Writing is the preserved, generalized, and honored word. It makes thought the property of those who are far from us and those who are after us, the common good of mankind. It paints the word and speaks to the eyes. It gives body and color to thought.
Writing is the ενΰα(>κωΰ1ς of the word.
This is true in general. The Traditionalists, de Bonald, Lamennais, Bautain, certainly went too far when they said, that language came directly from God, that in language all the treasures of truth were preserved, and that mankind now partook of all truth out of and through language, tradition, Stöckl, Lehrb. der neueren Philos. I 406 f. But there is a good idea in it. And especially in the religious field, word and writing acquire a higher significance. Revelation in Christianity is a history. It consists of deeds, events that pass and soon belong to the past. It is an actus transiens, temporair, momentaneous even, and has this time form, this transient, in common with all earthly things. And yet it contains eternal thoughts, which were significant not only for the moment in which it took place and for the persons to whom it was addressed, but which are of value for all times and for all people. How can this apparent contradiction be reconciled? Because the strangeness of it has almost always been felt. Deism in England made it noteworthy. Herbert of Cherbury said that only such a revelation could be granted to us as was immediately ours; revelations received by others are to us mere history, tradition, and in history we can never get beyond probability, de veritate 1656 p. 288, Lechler, Gesch. des engl. Deismus 49. Hobbes similarly said, that a revelation, which others had received, could not be proved for us, Leviathan ch. 32. Locke made the same distinction between original and traditional revelation, Essay concerning human understanding TV ch. 18. Deism deduced that the religio naturalis was sufficient. It made a separation between fact and idea, the temporary and the eternal, züfallige Geschichtswahrheiten and nothwendige Vernunftwahrheiten. And the speculative rationalism of Hegel followed in the same footsteps; the idea does not pour itself out in a single individual.
Now this separation has turned out to be practically impossible. The separation of the idea from history is in Christianity, as in every other religion, nothing less than the loss of the idea itself. Lessing's thesis in his book üeber den Beweis des Geistes und der Kraft:
Züfallige Geschichtswahrheiten können der Beweis von nothwendigen Vernunftwahrheiten nie werden, was very popular at
the time. But that can only be explained by the unhistorical sense and the concept of reason of the eighteenth century. The present century has forgotten how to fool with the necessary truths of reason and despise history. It has learned to understand history in its deeper sense and its eternal significance. If the facts of history were accidental, it would itself be an aggregate of isolated events, without order, without coherence, without plan. Then there would be no more history and its practice would be a vain and useless activity.
And then it would follow that the history of revelation would lose all its value. But history is precisely the realization of God's thoughts, the working out of God's counsel over His creatures; in it there is unity, progress, order, logic. Such a conception of history was made possible only by Christianity. With the Greeks and Romans it is not found; there were only peoples, there was no humanity. Scripture, however, teaches us about the unity of the human race; it gives us the grand conception of a world history. And in this history it occupies the first and all-important place. The historical facts are therefore not accidental, and certainly not the history of Revelation. It is so necessary that without it the whole of history and mankind would fall apart. It is the bearer of God's thoughts; the apocalypse of God's purpose, which time and again filled the Apostle Paul with admiration and adoration; the revelatio mysterii, without which mankind wanders in the dark. And on the other hand, the Vernunftwahrheiten of which Lessing spoke are also anything but necessary. Kant's criticism has shown otherwise. Precisely with regard to these nothwendige Vernunftwahrheiten there is nowadays a generalised scepticism. So the relationship is just the opposite. The historical has been seen through in its eternal significance and the rational in its changeableness has come to light.
The fact is, therefore, that we inherit everything from our ancestors.
We bring nothing into the world, 1 Tim. 6:7. Physically and psychically, intellectually and ethically, we are dependent on the world around us. And religiously it is no different. The revelation that exists in history cannot come to us otherwise than in the way of tradition, in the broadest sense. A question as to why this revelation
is not given to every human being, Rousseau in his profession de foi, and Strauss, Glaub. I. 268 f. is not really appropriate. It assumes that revelation contains nothing but doctrine and forgets that it is and must be history. The center of Revelation is the person of Christ. And Christ is a historical person; his incarnation, his suffering and death, his resurrection and ascension cannot be repeated. Yes, it belongs precisely to the ένβαρκωβις that he enters history and lives in the form of time. He would not have been like us in everything if he had not submitted to time and space, to the law of becoming. Revelation, not as doctrine but as incarnation, cannot, of course, be anything other than history, i. e. falling into a certain time and being bound to a certain place. The incarnation is the unity of being, έγω εΐμι, Jn
8:5S, and becoming, ΰαρ'ξ έγενετο, Jn 1:14. Mankind is not an aggregate of individuals, but an organic whole, in which all live off each other. Revelation follows this law, the re-creation joins creation.
Just as in every field we share in the goods of humanity by means of tradition, so it is in religion. That too belongs to the idea of the incarnation. It is itself an actus transiens, but through tradition it becomes the property and the blessing of all people. The fact that this revelation is still restricted to such a small group of people poses a difficult problem, which will have to be examined in greater detail later; but this fact, which is touching in itself, can never be a reason for rejection by those who know it. Many nations live in a state of crude barbarism. This, too, is according to the will and good pleasure of God. Yet it does not occur to anyone to despise the blessings of civilization for this reason. Rousseau was a fan of the natural man, but he remained silent in France.
2. The bearer of the ideal goods of mankind is language, and the σαρξ of language is writing. Here too God in revelation joins in. In order to enter fully into humanity and become its property,
Revelation takes on the μορφή, the σχήμα of Scripture. Scripture is the servant form of revelation. Yes, the central fact of revelation, η. 1. the incarnation, leads afterthe Scriptures. In prophecy and miracle, revelation descends so low and so deep that it does not disregard even the lowest forms of human life, especially religious life, as a
means to an end. The Logos itself becomes not άν&ρωπος only, but ό'ονλος, σαρξ. And so the word of revelation takes on the imperfect, imperfect form of writing. But only in this way does revelation become the good of mankind. The goal of revelation is not Christ;
Christ is the center and means; the goal is that God may dwell in His creatures again and manifest His glory in the cosmos. Θεός τα παντα εν πασιν. This, too, is in a certain sense an έναν&ρωπησις τον !)εον , a humanity of God. And to achieve this goal, the word of revelation passes into writing. Thus Scripture too is a means and an instrument, not an end. It flows from the incarnation of God in Christ, and in a certain sense it is the continuation of that, the way by which Christ makes his home in his congregation; the praeparatio viae ad plenam inhabitationem Dei. But in this indwelling of God it also has its τέλος, its end and goal, 1 Cor. 15:28. Like all of revelation, it is also an actus transiens.
Thus the relation in which Scripture stands to Revelation becomes clear. The earlier theology almost completely absorbed revelation into theopneustics, into the gift of Scripture. It spoke of revelation only in passing, and interpreted it far too narrowly. It seemed as if nothing lay behind the Scriptures. And Scripture came to stand completely apart and isolated. It was not rooted in history. It looked as if it had suddenly fallen from the sky. The powerful conception of revelation as a history that begins with the fall and only ends in the parousia was almost entirely alien to it. This view is untenable. In most cases revelation precedes theosophy and is often separated from it by a long period of time. The revelation of God to the patriarchs, in the history of Israel, in the person of Christ was sometimes only described centuries and years later; and also the prophets and apostles often write down their revelations a considerable time after their reception, e.g. Jer. 25:13, 30:1, 36:2 ff.
Furthermore, many persons like Elijah, Elisha, Thomas, Nathanael, etc. were revelators, who nevertheless never wrote a book that was recorded in the canon; others on the other hand did not receive any revelations and did not perform miracles, and yet brought them to us in writing, as e.g. the writers of many historical books. Furthermore,
revelation took place in various forms, dream, vision, etc., and meant the disclosure of something that was hidden; theopneustia was always an action of God's Spirit in the consciousness and was intended to guarantee the content of Scripture. The newer theology therefore rightly distinguished between revelation and Scripture. But it often fell into another extreme. It separated Scripture from Revelation so completely that it became nothing more than an accidental appendage, an arbitrary addition, a human certificate of Revelation, which may still be useful but is in any case unnecessary.
This theme has been sung about in all sorts of variations. Not the letter but the Spirit, not the Scripture but the person of Christ, not the word but the fact is the principium of theology. And Lessing came to the well-known plea: O Luther, you great and holy man, you have delivered us from the yoke of the Pope, but who will deliver us from the yoke of the letter, of the paper Pope? This view is no less wrong and even more dangerous than the other. For revelation and theopneustics in many cases coincide completely. By no means everything that is described in Scripture was revealed beforehand, but came into consciousness during the writing itself, e.g., in the Psalms, the Epistles, etc. He who denies theopneustics and despises the Scriptures also loses a very large part of Revelation; he is left with nothing but human writings. Furthermore, even where revelation preceded description in fact or word, we know it only through the Holy Scriptures. We know literally nothing of the revelations of God under Israel and in Christ except from the Holy Scriptures. There is no other principium. With the Scriptures, therefore, falls the whole of revelation, including the person of Christ. Just because Revelation is history, there is no other way to know anything about it than the ordinary way of all history, which is Testimony. The testimony decides for our consciousness the reality of a fact. No communion with Christ but only through communion with the word of the apostles, John 17 : 20, 21; 1 John 1:3. Revelation exists for us, for the church of all ages, only in the form of the Holy Scriptures. And finally, as will appear later, theopneustia is a characteristic of the Scriptures, a proper and separate act of God in the production of Scripture, and therefore, to that extent, to be recognized and
honored as an act of revelation itself. Contempt or rejection of Scripture is thus not an innocent act with respect to human testimonies concerning revelation, but a denial of a particular act of God's revelation, and thus in principle a denial of all revelation.
So both directions are one-sided, both those which deny revelation for the sake of Scripture and those which deny Scripture for the sake of revelation. There the φατερωσις, here the &sonvsvffna does not come into its own. Over there one has Scripture without Scripture: over here one has Scripture without Scripture. There is a neglect of history, here a disdain for the word. The first direction lapses into orthodox intellectualism, the second runs the risk of anabaptist spiritualism. The correct view is that Scripture is neither identified with Revelation nor detached from it. Theopneustia is an element in revelation; a last act in which the revelation of God in Christ is concluded for this dispensation; in that sense, the end, the crown, the preservation and publication of revelation, medium, quo revelatio immediata mediata facta inque libros relata est,
Baumgarten at Twesten, Vorles. über die Dogm. I 402.
3. Revelation, nevertheless, taken as a whole, has reached its end and purpose only in the parousia of Christ. But it falls into two great periods, into two distinct divisions (above page 270). The first dispensation was aimed at incorporating the full revelation of God and making it a part of the history of mankind. The whole of that oeconomy can be seen as God coming to his people, as seeking a tabernacle for Christ. It is thus predominantly a revelation of God in Christ. It has an objective character. It is characterized by extraordinary acts; theophany, prophecy and miracle are' the ways through which God comes to his people. Christ is its subject. He is the Logos, who shines in the darkness, comes to his own, and becomes flesh in Jesus. The Holy Spirit was not yet there, since
Christ was not yet glorified. In this dispensation the registration keeps pace with the revelation. Both grow from century to century.
As revelation progresses, the Scriptures increase in size. When, in Christ, the full revelation of God has been given, theophany,
prophecy and miracle have reached their climax in Him, and the grace of God in Christ has appeared to all men, then, at the same time, the completion of Scripture is also there. Christ, in his person and work, has fully revealed the Father to us, and therefore that revelation is fully described in Scripture. Revelation has in a certain sense reached its end. The dispensation of the Son gives way to the dispensation of the Spirit. Objective revelation passes into subjective appropriation. In Christ, God created an organic center in the midst of history; from there, the circles in which the light of revelation shines are now drawn in ever-widening circles. The sun, rising, covers only a small area of the earth with its rays; standing in the zenith, it radiates over the whole earth. Israel was but an instrument of revelation; it has performed its service and falls away when it has brought forth the Christ, so far as the flesh is concerned; now the grace of God appears to all men. Revelation thus continues, but in other ways and forms. The Holy Spirit takes everything from Christ;
He adds nothing new to Revelation. It is complete and therefore not open to increase. Christ is the Logos, full of grace and truth; His work is accomplished; the Father Himself rests in His labor. His work cannot be supplemented or increased by the good works of the saints; His word cannot be added to by tradition; His person cannot be added to by the Pope. In Christ, God has fully revealed and fully given Himself. That is why Scripture is complete; it is the perfect word of God. And yet, although in a different way, Revelation continues, for it has its ultimate goal not in Christ, who is the mediator, but in the new humanity, in the dwelling of God with His people. It continues in all its three forms of theophany, prophecy and miracle. God comes to and dwells in the church of Christ; wherever two or three are gathered in His name, He is in the midst. He works miracles always through; He renews her through regeneration, sanctification, and glorification; the spiritual miracles do not cease.
God is always working. But that is not enough. Not only the world of being, but also that of consciousness must be renewed. In the Logos was the life but also the light of man; Christ is full of grace but also of truth; the revelation consisted in miracle but also in prophecy. Word and deed went together in the first dispensation; they also
accompany each other in the oeconomy of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit regenerates but also enlightens. But just as spiritual miracles do not add a new element to the objective facts of revelation, but are merely the working out of the miracle of God's grace wrought in Christ, so also prophecy in the church, the illumination of the Holy
Spirit, is not a revelation of mysteries, but the application of the treasures of wisdom and knowledge, which are contained in Christ and are displayed in His word. And both these activities of the Holy
Spirit go hand in hand in this dispensation. Prophecy and miracle, word and fact, illumination and government, Scripture and the Church accompany each other. Even today, revelation is not only teaching that enlightens the mind, but also a life that renews the heart. It is both together in unbreakable unity. The one-sidedness of intellectualism and mysticism is to be avoided, for both are a denial of the riches of Revelation. Because head and heart, the entire human being, must be renewed in his being and consciousness, revelation in this dispensation continues in Scripture and in the Church together. And both are in the closest relationship to each other. Scripture is the light of the Church; the Church is the life of Scripture. Outside the church the Scripture is a riddle, an annoyance.
Without regeneration no one can know it. He who is not a partaker of its life cannot understand its meaning and opinion. And conversely, the life of the Church is a mystery if the Scriptures do not shed their light on it. The Scriptures explain the Church, and the Church verifies the Scriptures. In the Church the Scripture confirms and seals her revelation, and in the Scripture the Christian, the Church learns to understand herself, in her relation to God and the world, in her past and present and future.
That is why Scripture does not stand alone. It cannot be understood in a deistic way. It has its roots in a history of centuries and is the fruit of revelation among Israel and in Christ. But it is not a book from long ago that only connects us with people and events from the past. Scripture is not an arid story or an old chronicle, but it is the ever living, eternally youthful Word that God sends out to His people now and always. It is God's everlasting speech to us. It does not only