If the post here (H/T: Pontifications) and its many responses are typical of emergent “christology” (and I suspect they are), then the so-called “emergent church” is not a work of the Holy Spirit. For the Spirit Himself gives it us to say, “Jesus is Lord” (1 Corinthians 12:3). (Note: The Holy Spirit also gives it us to say “Abba, Father” [Romans 8:15 and Galatians 4:6; cf. Mark 14:36], demonstrating that declarations denying the patriarchy of God are utterly void of any claim of Holy Spirit origin and authority.)
Here are the comments of the author of the post:
Some people avidly assert that Jesus is God and tend to be suspicious of anyone who has reservations about that statement. In some circles that phrase is practically a shibboleth.
Note that from the get-go, the author has psychologized the issues. Instead of it being a matter of someone being rationally critical of those who waffle on the truth of the claim “Jesus is God” we have people who are “suspicious.” And of course, this is presented as a problem.
Personally I am not comfortable with that statement because I think it condenses a complex truth so laconically that it leaves itself open to significant misunderstanding. But on the other hand I reject the opposite statement (viz. “Jesus is not God”) because I believe Jesus is uncreated, self-existent, transcendent, worthy of divine honour, etc.
Note this second strategy: the “principled hedge.” I’m not comfortable with it–but won’t go so far as to deny it. Once again, we have a psychological statement, not a truth claim. And notice the locus of the mental discomfort: it purportedly does not preserve the complexity of the issue. There is a subtle psychologism here, as well, for, after all, adults deal with complex realities, children deal with simplistic ones.
And the third strategy: the affirmation of a denial. But, logically speaking, to deny that Jesus is not God does not necessarily entail the affirmation that Jesus is God.
In short, the author has thus far confessed nothing save his own psychological states.
Finally, we do get a confession. But are these confessions really any less “simplistic” than “Jesus is God”? What is the author saying when he claims God is “uncreated”? “Self-existent”? “Transcendent”? “Worthy of divine honour”? Aren’t all these concepts shorthand for utterly complex realities that we cannot fathom? Isn’t the author being just as simplisitc albeit with more words? In what way is the confession that Jesus is “uncreated, self-existent, transcendent, worthy of divine honour, etc.” a truthful improvement on “Jesus is God”?
He goes on:
I am struggling to get a handle on why it is unsatisfactory to say “Jesus is God”, and I would like to be able to explain it more articulately to people who glibly say “Jesus is God” as though it were a simple, self-explanatory definition that needs no circumscribing. Maybe it is contrary to the principles of emergent theology to try to analyse and define things systematically, but I am hoping your responses to this thread may give me some useful new insights for my own spiritual growth and also to help me communicate effectively with others.
It seems to me that the author’s problem is not the simplicity of the claim “Jesus is God,” but precisely its (to borrow a phrase) irreducible complexity.
Now I suppose some plausible claim as to simplistic reduction–which could render the proposition “Jesus is God” as modalistic–might be entertained for a moment. But only for a moment, and in any case, that is not the direction this author is taking the question.
But notice what that author and the first sixteen (of twenty-three as of this post) responses entirely bypass: the “definition” of Chalcedon.
For it [the Christology of the Fathers] opposes those who would rend the mystery of the dispensation into a Duad of Sons; it repels from the sacred assembly those who dare to say that the Godhead of the Only Begotten is capable of suffering; it resists those who imagine a mixture or confusion of the two natures of Christ; it drives away those who fancy his form of a servant is of an heavenly or some substance other than that which was taken of us, and it anathematizes those who foolishly talk of two natures of our Lord before the union, conceiving that after the union there was only one.
Following the holy Fathers we teach with one voice that the Son [of God] and our Lord Jesus Christ is to be confessed as one and the same [Person], that he is perfect in Godhead and perfect in manhood, very God and very man, of a reasonable soul and [human] body consisting, consubstantial with the Father as touching his Godhead, and consubstantial with us as touching his manhood; made in all things like unto us, sin only excepted; begotten of his Father before the worlds according to his Godhead; but in these last days for us men and for our salvation born [into the world] of the Virgin Mary, the Mother of God according to his manhood. This one and the same Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son [of God] must be confessed to be in two natures, unconfusedly, immutably, indivisibly, inseparably [united], and that without the distinction of natures being taken away by such union, but rather the peculiar property of each nature being preserved and being united in one Person and subsistence, not separated or divided into two persons, but one and the same Son and only-begotten, God the Word, our Lord Jesus Christ, as the Prophets of old time have spoken concerning him, and as the Lord Jesus Christ hath taught us, and as the Creed of the Fathers hath delivered to us. (Definition of Chalcedon)
First of all, let us notice the author’s (and presumably the pomo-oriented emergent folk’s) deep aversion to “circumscribing” God. This is healthy. But notice that the “definition” of Chalcedon does not really “define” God. For to define something is to delimit it, to classify it as a this and not a that, to discuss that which is essential about that thing. Definition then, is utterly and absolutely inapplicable to God. For his essence is not accessible to us, and to delimit or classify him is to presumably have exhaustive knowledge about God such that we can place him in a set of things which have been tested by counter-example.
No, the historic Church has resolutely refused to define God. All she has been able to do is to declare, on the basis of the revelation in Christ, what God is not, and thus, by extension, we can only say what Christ is not. Or, rather, any positive declarations about God or Christ are circumscribed by what we cannot say about God or Christ. Notice the pronouncement from Chalcedon above. All of the positive declarations about who Christ is are bounded by the negative declarations. Christ is one Person, goes the positive affirmation, but we first start with the negative: Christ is not a duad of Sons, and this is reiterated again when it declares Christ the Word to be one Person, not separated or divided into two Persons. Christ is consubstantial with us humans, but he is not sinful. Christ is the union of two natures, but those natures are not confused, mixed, divided or separated. Always and everywhere our positive declarations about God are bounded by those propositions declaring what God is not. If we say God is one divine nature or essence, we must also say that God is not a monad. If we say God is a triad of Persons, we must also say that God is not three Gods.
So the Pomo/Emergent Church fear of circumscribing God is utterly baseless and founded on a quite mistaken notion from postmodernist populist drivel. We can never exhaust the meaning of “Jesus is God” so as to circumscribe him, and as the history of the Church has shown us, the best we can do is to declare that which cannot be said about Jesus.
Notice also how the emergent discussion, especially exemplified in the responses to the post, hinges on a false dichotomy: that between careful declarations and confessions of faith (i.e., “theology”) and real world living. It is the Gnostic mind/spirit-body split all over again. Here’s a taste of some of the responses.
Respondent Vincent-Olivier writes:
My opinion on this is that the “Jesus is God” proposition is innapropriate (or inconfortable [i.e., “uncomfortable”–cdh]) because “is” is used here as an identity and, in the case of “Jesus is God”, two of the properties of identity are violated :
1. “Jesus is God” violates transitivity because if the hypostatic union (“Jesus is God” and “Jesus is man like any man”) is true, then there must be some thruth [sic] in the “God is man” and “Man is God” statements;
2. Identities also imply symmetry, which means that if you accept “Jesus is God, then “God is Jesus” must also be true. And “God is Jesus” definitely sounds awkward in a orthodox point of view.
But, hey, if you accept the outcomes of the two properties over the “Jesus is God” statement, then there is no problem.
Re: “problem” 1. In point of fact, it is precisely the case that since the proposition “Jesus is God” is true, that it is also true, on the basis of the hypostatic union, to say “God is [a] man.” Jesus did not divest himself of his humanity when he ascended into heaven (if he did we are not saved). Similarly, it is also true to say “[A] man is God.” Notice I have introduced the indefinite particle prior to “man” in both statements. This is necessary because the respondent makes a claim regarding the hypostatic union that is predicated upon an equivocation of the term “man.” For man is both a particular noun and a generic one. It stands in quite nicely for “human” (generic) as much as it does for (that) “man” (particular). But to speak more correctly, in God becoming (that) man, Jesus, he did not become all men, he became human; that is to say, he united the divine nature to human nature. But in that God became human, human nature is now deified in Christ. So it is as true to say that in Christ, God became a man and that man is God, AND that God became human and human became god. And we, insofar as we unite our personal hypostases (unique existents of human nature) to Christ, we, too, become gods, as Jesus said in John 10:34 (or “deified,” made partakers of the divine nature [2 Peter 1:3-4]).
Why the respondent has problems with saying “God is Jesus”–unless it be from superficial fears of modalism–I have no idea. But it is, nonetheless true.
But there are more responses like that one. The respondent Andrew notes, incorrectly:
ĎJesus is Godí, in the first place, is not a biblical statement so there is no biblical context within which to interpret it. It arose, presumably, either as a confessional statement or as a summary of a complex theological debate. In either case, in order to understand how it functions rhetorically we would need to bring into focus the rhetorical context in which it was used. For example, as resistance to the Ďconfessioní that ĎCaesar is godí; or as a redefinition of the perceived nature of God; or as a slogan marking the culmination of conciliar debate. In other words, it is a mistake to read it as a purely logical statement of identity. The narrative substructure is not superseded by the more convenient encapsulation but must remain a visible and dynamic part of its meaning.
In point of fact, the biblical narrative or context does indeed provide precisely this formulation: Jesus is Lord. Oh, most assuredly, I understand that “Jesus is Lord” and “Jesus is God” are two different sentences. But they are not two different meanings. And the claim “Jesus is Lord” is quite precisely, and even more exactly, the same claim as “Jesus is God”–which is made abundantly clear by the biblical context Andrew has seemed to have either forgotten or ignored. In fact, using Andrew’s “rhetorical” contextualizing of the claim, it was not the claim “Caesar is god” that Christians were called to repeat, but “Caesar is Lord.” Nor was it simply rhetorical context. It was wholly existential, and not merely a resistance to a definition of the perceived nature of God.
The respondent Andrew goes on to say:
We are stuck with the fact that we have no simple, single coherent account of who Jesus was in relation to God. We have layered accounts: a historical layer, an eschatological-apocalyptic layer, a confessional-doxological layer, a dense, tangled theological layer, a mystical layer, a practical, reductive evangelistic layer, and so on. I suppose the challenge we face is to allow these layers of discourse about Jesus to be much more transparent to each other. I donít think that in the long run we will be helped by simplistic evangelistic summaries that are opaque to history or narrative or confession or theolog
Ah, yes, the claim “Jesus is God” is forever inaccessible to us. All we have are opaque layers, which we must somehow make more transparent to other layers. But if these “simplistic evangelistic summaries” are inherently opaque, on what grounds is predicated their opacity? Their simplicity? Their historical context? Their theology? Their mysticism? Their confessionalism-doxologicalism? Their practical reductive evangelisticity? (I admit that last is a neologism.) All of these together?
The next question is, how does one render transparent that which is opaque? Either one must knock a whole through it, or must make it so thin that light can get through. Which is to say, one must alter the nature of the thing. But on what basis can we do that? Aren’t our own claims that these things are opaque really just meaningless exhalations? What do we mean when we say something is “opaque”? And if it is opaque to us, how can we know it’s nature is opaque, or even really say anything meaningful–such as “The claim is meaningless or opaque”–about it? Perhaps the opacity lies within us? Perhaps we are the ones who must be made transparent?
No, criticisms such as Andrew’s sound smart and wise, but in reality such claims are nothing more than solipsism.
Note that the following respondent rejects any traditional or (small-o) orthodox understanding of the claim “Jesus is God” and at the same time claims to be part of the church (uses “we”):
In a literal sense I would say “no”. The “fully man, fully God” view is more than I can intellectually accept. But I do equate Jesus with God in the following ways:
1. Jesus was someone in agreement with Godís objectives so when I say I believe Jesus and agree with him I am agreeing with God. So in that way Jesus = God.
2. You could say Jesus and God are one and the same in a similar way that my wife and I are one and the same. I feel we are inseparable and bound through mutual vows for all time.
3. Jesus is the “son of God” meaning he is someone speaking on behalf of God or conducting business as a representative of God or in the authority of God as a son would represent his father in his absence during a business transaction.
4. I see Jesus as a person embodying the nature of Godís character. I donít accept the notion of him being a literally physical offspring of God. A person being a physical offspring of the spiritual force is very “greek/roman god-like” and not really something I could accept.
5. God is love and Jesus was definitely a walking exhibit of love so in that way you could say Jesus is God. I also think that any of us could be said to be “God” in this way. What I mean by that is an extension of how Jesus showed us to love God by serving others. So for us the “others” we serve become like a surrogate for God as we serve them and we become like a surrogate for God to those we serve. In the same way Jesus said, “whatever you do for the least of these you have done for me”. So in this way God is more than a being living “out there in heaven” and Jesus is so much more than the man that lived in the first century because he continues to live and serve through us as we live and serve for him.
I think when we speak of Jesus as the “incarnation” of God or “physical body” of God it is similar to the metaphor of the church being the body of Christ. We are Christís body when we live out his vision and mission just as Jesus was Godís body as he delivered Godís message and Godís love in a physical way.
Whether the respondent consciously grasps this or not, in rejecting as true on its face the claim “Jesus is God,” he has just presented a Jesus none of the early martyrs knew, an Arian Jesus, in some respects, a Gnostic Jesus in others.
Respondent 17, David Richards, finally interjects the Chalcedonian proclamation, with which there are, at present, no real engagements.
It is this largely unreflective adoption of postmodern sensibilities coupled with either an almost wholesale ignorance of the biography of the Church or a conscious rejection of it that makes the Pomo/Emergent Church such a danger to unwitting Christians. P/EC’ers and their disciples reject the historical life of the Church as unsuitable for present day Christian life. When one asks why one gets talk of therapy: Christians have been hurt by the “institutional church” (that ubiquitous bogeyman that never quite gets defined), or non-Christians seekers are looking for a more fulfilling way of engaging spirituality or god (vaguely intuited and thus the lower-case “g”). But P/EC’ers buy into this socially constructed criticism of the Church (notice how I am using one of their weapons against them), and thus are no more authoritative than the “institutional church” they criticize. That is to say, instead of bypassing authority, P/EC’ers simply substitute their own, though that authority is utterly blind.
And being blind, it apparently cannot see its Christological errors, because it will not learn its history. And not seeing its Christological errors, it cannot but also fail to see its ecclesiological ones. Thus it claims to offer the Church, but such offers are empty and void. If P/EC’ers cannot claim without hesitation that “Jesus is Lord,” or “Jesus is God,” then they share no part with those martyrs who died with that confession on their lips or the saints who lived that life for us all.