CHRISTIANITY AND THE AGE OF THE WORLDVIEW (PART 3 OF 3)

This post is the conclusion to a three-part series. Click here first to read part one of “Christianity and the Age of the Worldview,” then click here to read “Christianity and the Age of the Worldview, Part 2!”

FAITH AND ITS WORLD: ENCOUNTERING THE GOSPEL WITH LUTHER

 

Christianity is, ultimately, not a matter of worldviews. It is not a system of doctrines which the human subject projects upon the world. The faithful Christian does have beliefs, even systematic ones; but these beliefs really come from a reflection upon faith – they are not faith itself, or faith proper.

 

Faith itself is – as Luther wonderfully reminds us – a matter of the gospel. To have faith is to trust in the gospel – it is to hold tight onto God’s promises of forgiveness and freedom, to believe them ardently and surrender myself to them. This is the first thing; all else in the faith-life is secondary.

 

This is a well-known and uncontroversial reading of Luther. But we must be careful here; for it is easy to misunderstand. Faith is not here a position, a belief, a promise that I can decide to take on. Faith is not one option among many. Instead, it is something I must be struck by – and as soon as I am struck by it, I am immersed in it.

 

Luther is insistent: I cannot come to God of my own free will; for my will is bound to sin, and in its fallenness rejects God always – even before it has made a conscious choice! To borrow a phrase from Emmanuel Levinas, we are “always-already” in sin for Luther – until grace comes and frees us.

 

Luther’s pessimism about our free will is well known; but less well understood is just why he thinks this. Of course, people realize that this comes in part from his reading of Paul, and from the influence of Augustine too. Others, Lutherans especially, are keen to note that this insistence keeps grace totally apart from works: if we do not even do the work of choosing God, then our justification is entirely God’s act.

 

But there is another reason for his assertion, and Heidegger can help us see this. (Early in his career, Heidegger spent nearly two years reading almost nothing but Luther, though he wrote very little on him; so it should never surprise us when we find hidden, Luther-influenced insights in Heidegger!)

 

The insight comes from Heidegger’s assertion about the gods prior to their departure. In the world where the gods have not yet departed, the gods are there, immediately present in the world as we know it. The world immediately presents itself as replete with divine activity, and we accept it as such. The gods’ actions are not somehow an addition to the operations of the world; they are part of the world, and the world (for the ancient Greeks) is incomprehensible without them.

 

The Medieval world of Luther was similar to this. Especially for everyday people, the Medieval cosmos brimmed with Divine activity – both that of its great head, God, and of His angels, demons, forest creatures and more. It was a fascinating, magical, enchanted world – but also a very dangerous one. Threats were constant. And greatest of all was the threat of damnation. For in the Medieval world, if one did not pursue a life of grace and sanctification, then one placed oneself danger. One’s fleshly weaknesses, and the many sins they caused, had grave consequences that were only mitigated by the works and prayers done for you by God’s great spiritual warriors, the monks. This dependency was how the church could eventually come to sell, at real profit, the merits of monks by way of “indulgences.”

 

Luther’s great insight – the one that threatened this Medieval system – was that, in grace, the world opened up in an entirely different way. Once one had truly grasped God’s forgiveness, and trusted it, then the world no longer showed up as a dangerous, hostile, uncertain place. Instead, faith learned “that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Rom. 8:28, NIV). The world then showed forth for faith as something created, sustained and given to us by a benevolent Creator who desired only our good in Jesus Christ.

 

This, however, is not a projection of our mind onto the world. For Luther, it is the truth of the world delivered externally by God’s gracious word, which gives us eyes to see God’s loving presence all around us. Such a truth does not occur in any way by or through me. Instead, God has come – from outside me – and removed the scales from my eyes, so that I might see His external presence beaming forth to me through all things. And because in all things I see Christ Whom I grasp by faith – Christ through Whom all things came to be, and in Whom all things hang together (Col. 1) – I am able to see that this whole world is, ultimately, a place of love and grace.

 

One cannot “choose” or “will” to see the world in this way, as though it were one option among many. One must be struck, suddenly and wonderfully, by this insight – or one will not have it at all. We who have removed God from the world, who have made of it a frightening hellscape; we will not see God here unless grace comes to us from elsewhere.

 

CHRISTIANITY: IF NOT A WORLDVIEW, THEN WHAT IS IT?

 

Christianity, then, is not a worldview. It is, at its heart, the revelation of a gracious God Who became incarnate, took on our sin, and now graciously offers us free forgiveness in His name. The heart of Christianity is, in short, the word of the gospel, grasped in faith. It is upon this that the other elements of Christianity are built, and it is from these elements that one can begin to make Christian systems. Such systems, however, could never be appropriately seen as worldviews; for they are simply ways of articulating to the church and the world how the various aspects of the faith might be assembled into edifying visions. They are, in short, “open systems,” which can always be altered or rebuilt according to the needs of the time. The elements of faith, on the other hand, retain a real stability, though we may grow in our insight regarding them.

 

I cannot go into depth about the various elements of the faith. This essay is already too long! But I will enumerate them here. I hope to go into them further in coming weeks. As I understand them, the elements which make up Christianity are:

 

1: The Gospel. The transformative, salvific message that God became incarnate in Jesus of Nazareth, lived a life of perfect obedience, ushered in the coming of the kingdom of God, suffered on the Cross for our sins, died, was raised on the third day, and now sits at the right hand of God in eschatological expectation – so that He might save you from your sin, forgive you entirely and unconditionally, and graft you into Himself so that you might have eternal life when He again becomes all in all. This message, and our faithful trust in it, is the heart and center of Christianity.

 

2. The Canon. Christianity is the canon of Scripture. It might sound strange to say that Christianity is the Bible, but in a sense this is true. Christianity is founded upon the words of the Old and New Testament which we can trust are divinely inspired and, as such, without error (though our own methods of reading them may be riddled with errors!). This witness from Israel and the apostles gives us the defining contours of the Bible; yet the Bible is also founded upon God’s promise – the very promise fulfilled in the gospel.  The two elements are interdependent, as is so much in Christianity; yet some parts remain more fundamental than others (i.e., the gospel is more fundamental than the Scriptures, ultimately).

 

3. Tradition. This is a large category, with some aspects being more fundamental than others. Most fundamental are the Apostles’, Nicene and Athanasian Creeds, as well as the seven ecumenical church councils which decided matters of the Trinity and Christology. Next, of equal weight, are the writings of the church fathers and the liturgies. Where there is a consensus among them, they are binding (at least for belief and prayer), where there is disagreement, one may choose (insofar as they agree with the gospel and Scripture). Ultimately, though, many elements of the liturgies and the fathers may be picked out and creatively reassembled according to the needs of time and place.

 

Tradition in Christianity is very important, though not always acknowledged. Today, especially, when tradition is seen as confining, it is difficult to convey its beauty. Yet one of the great joys of Christianity is being among so many great saints, and revering their witness. One cannot be fully Christian without being positively disposed towards this tradition, even if one has critiques to make. One must display what Jarslov Pelikan rightly calls a “critical reverence.” If one takes tradition uncritically, and turns it into a worldview, one will obscure the gospel, as we have seen; and if one takes a negative view towards tradition, seeking always to be liberated from it, then one is bound to overestimate one’s own thoughts, and underestimate the church fathers and mothers. This will likely lead to implicit abandonment of central claims of Christianity – often without even realizing it.

 

4. Contemplation (and the Active Life Following It). Christianity is a way of seeing the world in light of the gospel. I spoke of this seeing in the previous section, where I delineated what it means to suddenly see God’s benevolent presence everywhere in the world. I have described this in my introductory meditation to this website, and in my piece on the relationship between mindfulness and contemplative prayer. This is the process of sanctification, wherein God enlightens us and makes us more holy (that is, more in tune with His love, His presence, and His purposes). This is a very important topic to me, but I will not discuss it in depth here.

 

Suffice it to say three things about this element. First, it is not necessary that contemplation be viewed as an ascent to God. It may also be viewed as a way of seeing the world in light of God’s descent to us. (This, I believe, was Luther’s form of contemplation.) Second, this contemplation must ultimately result in a desire to share the gospel with others, whether by preaching, writing, teaching, etc. or by example. This is what I mean by the “active life” – gospel-representing activity in the world. Third, contemplation is the very mode of Christian perception – if one is a Christian, one sees contemplatively. This contemplation has informed tradition, the Scriptures, and the gospel itself; and contemplative activity is influenced by all of these elements.

 

These, as I see it, are the four fundamentals that make up Christianity. There is much more to say, of course, but without these four (even when they are not acknowledged as such), Christianity ceases to exist. It must have these. And, as I have said, these elements may well inform a system – indeed, I have my own Christian system! – but they will never simply add up to make something as static as worldview. These elements, even where they are set in stone (such as the canon) are living – like the Christ Who is their ground.

 

These elements are solid foundations – but they are not static. To a degree, we may change our expression of them with the times – but we may not alter their fundamental teachings on a whim. True, we must look to the church of today, and the church of the future – but we must do so while carefully (even reverently) cultivating the fruits of the past. This is the work of Christianity – a work not completed until the Second Coming of Christ, but a work whose accomplishments, when performed with care, will stand the test of time.

 

This work gathers the people of God towards His Son; and this is the purpose of Christianity. I, for one, do not pray that anyone come to my worldview; but I do pray that my own system might be an inspiration, and might help others interact with the elements of the Christian faith. That this might happen, I pray through the Son, Whom I know through the gospel, to the Father, Whom the Scriptures teach me to revere; by way of the Holy Spirit, Who guides myself and the whole church with me in her traditional confession – that all might come to know and contemplate Jesus Christ, in Whom grace abounds for all.

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DAN TATE is a writer and blogger at Christ & Cosmos. A former atheist, he’s been surprised and amazed by the God of all things, and he’s passionate about sharing the gospel in ways that respond to contemporary concerns about theology, philosophy, spiritual practice, science, art, and more. A lifelong writer hailing from Upstate New York, he has a B.A. from Allegheny College, an M.A. from Syracuse University, and an M. Div. from Princeton Theological Seminary.