Issues Facing Missions Today 8: The Centrality of Christ in Missions, Theology, and Ethics
Sermon: 'The One Foundation, Jesus Christ our
Lord'
Text: Col. 2.6-15
Place: Oxford Centre for Mission Studies
Date: 8 October, 2003
The following sermon, which I delivered 10 years ago, was delivered before an academic audience. It is just as relevant today, engaging the very serious matter of keeping Christ central in all our work in missions, theology, and ethics.
Introduction:
Our text today, Col. 2.6-15, reminds me of the
hymn of S. J. Stone, 'The Church's one foundation is Jesus Christ, her
Lord. She is his new creation by water
and the word.' An ancient text, a
traditional hymn, and yet a timely word to challenges that we mission
theologians face today. That challenge,
in a word, is to establish missions, theology, and ethics on one foundation, and only one
foundation: Jesus Christ our Lord.
Paul's
Rhetorical Situation in Writing Colossians:
Paul points out a certain irony in his and the
Colossian church's situation. He is a
prisoner (4.18), but he is present in spirit with the church (2.5). The false teachers are present with the
Colossian Christians, but they are making them prisoners with philosophy and
empty deceit (2.8), human tradition established by the 'elemental spirits' or
'basic principles'. The false teaching represented itself as a 'wisdom' and
'knowledge', and hence the term 'philosophy' (2.8) is used to describe it, but
it appears to be a form of Judaism.
Philo and Josephus, for example, spoke of Judaism as a philosophy. It seems to be a kind of mystical Judaism,
which would have fit in well among other mystery religions in Asia Minor--a
truly contextual theology. It promoted a
tradition having to do with the 'flesh', such as circumcision (2.11), food and
drink laws, festivals, new moons, and sabbaths (2.16), self-abasement, angelic
worship, dwelling on visions (2.18), and regulations about what to handle,
taste and touch (2.21).
Legalism was only one outcome of this human tradition, not its
essential error. The larger issue was
its attempt to build tradition on a foundation other than Christ--a
multi-strand, contextual theology.
Paul's
Argument:
Over against this Jewish philosophical tradition,
Paul places Christ himself.
To counter the false teaching, Paul must offer a theological argument
not only in terms of the cross and redemption, but also in terms of creation
and the Law. If Christ's work is only to
be associated with the cross, then this leaves open an alternative 'creation'
and 'Law' approach to 'wisdom'--or theology.
Just such a multi-strand approach to theology and ethics appears to be
exactly what the false teachers were trying to accomplish in Colosse.
Thus, in Colossians Paul argues for a cosmic Christology that disarms this alternative theology. First, Christ is represented as the Creator and Sustainer (1.15-17), such that no knowledge exists apart from Him
(2.2-3). Second, Christ is represented
as the Reconciler of all creation
(1.20), such that there is no alternative to His work (2.7-8). Third, Christ is represented as the one in
whom all the fulness of deity dwells in bodily form (2.9), such that no other
embodiment of divine wisdom or work for humanity is of any use to those who
know Him and dwell in Him (2.10).
For these reasons, Karl Barth was correct to shout 'Nein!' in response
to a proposed natural Law theology: Christian theology must never be seen as
one avenue among others to God. But does
this lead us into a well of our own particularism (cf. Gene Outka)--an
inability to engage in dialogue or perhaps even in mission with those outside
our tradition?
John Colwell (Spurgeon's College) offers an answer to this question:
'redemption is continuous rather than discontinuous with creation, since the
Christ who is the source and goal of redemption is beforehand the source and
goal of creation, since the being-givenness[1]
[grace] by which we come to know the gospel is the work of that same Spirit as
the being-givenness [grace] by which we come to know anything at all.'[2]
In saying this, Colwell believes that he has found a corrective to
post-liberal antifoundationalism. For
him, the Gospel of Jesus Christ is itself an underlying story, a foundation for
theology and ethics. Indeed, in Col. 2,
Paul thinks very much in terms of foundations: either a Jewish philosophical
tradition in Colosse or Jesus Christ. In
1 Cor., Paul had already insisted that '… no one can lay any foundation other
than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ (3.11).' Here in Col. 2, Paul says that believers are 'rooted and built
up in him and established in the
faith' (2.7). Using three words that
convey the idea of foundations and growth, Paul here expresses that the
Christian's foundation and all that follows is Christ. Similarly, he says in this section that all
the riches of assured understanding, the knowledge of God's mystery, is Christ
himself (2.2), and believers are to live their lives in Christ (2.6).
Colwell cites John Milbank to make his point: 'The pathos of modern
theology is its false humility. For
theology, this must be a fatal disease, because once theology surrenders its
claim to be a metadiscourse, it cannot any longer articulate the word of the
creator God, but is bound to turn into the oracular voice of some finite idol,
such as historical scholarship, humanist psychology, or transcendental philosophy'.[3] The Church does have a metadiscourse or
metanarrative. It cannot surrender this
point to postmodernity, which, in the words of Jean-Francois Lyotard,
entertains an 'incredulity towards metanarratives.'[4]
Colwell maintains that Aquinas and Barth have been misread, as though
they affirmed a distinction between nature and grace, as though Christian
theology offers two complementary but distinct narratives, two alternative
foundations for theology, a more rational, universal foundation based on creation
and a more fideistic, particular foundation based on the Gospel. Rather, Colwell argues, Irenaeus, Aquinas,
Jonathan Edwards, and Barth all affirmed an indivisible unity between
creation and Christ in Christian theology.
Thus, he writes,[5]
For Irenaeus, in disputation with the
Gnostics, creation is mediated precisely by that same Word and Spirit who are
the mediators of redemption; for Thomas Aquinas the analogy of being must imply
an analogy of goodness and, since God alone is good and God is 'simple',
goodness is ultimately indivisible; for Jonathan Edwards all beauty and virtue
within creation is a reflection of the single beauty and virtue of the divine
Trinity; for Karl Barth creation has no internal basis other than the covenant
and, therefore, any true 'word' of creation must harmonize with the true Word.
Oliver O'Donovan argues the same point:[6]
… revelation in Christ does not deny our fragmentary knowledge of the
way things are, as though that knowledge were not there, or were of no significance;
yet it does not build on it, as
though it provided a perfectly acceptable foundation to which a further level
of understanding can be added. It can
only expose it for not being what it was originally given to be.
All this raises questions for interdisciplinary research at a Christian
study centre. Are we to conduct research
on any foundation other than Christ, as though there is a common revelation
that can support research independent from the revelation we have in
Christ? Is there light in alternative
religions or philosophies on which Christian research might build, or is
Christian research to be built upon the one and only one foundation? Being scholars, we will want to give more
than a 'yes' or 'no' answer to these questions.
What is important from this text before us today, however, is the
challenge to consider the foundation for our mission theology, lest we become
better anthropologists than exegetes, better sociologists than theologians,
better students of religious studies than Biblical Studies, better scholars
than disciples of Christ.
The error of alternative foundations is rife among us as Christian
scholars. We might look at various
modern theologies for examples, such as a Marxist interpretation of Scripture
in Liberation Theology, African traditional religion as a basis for African
Theology, or existentialist philosophy as a basis for contemporising Christian
theology in the West. Understandably,
post-liberal theologians called for an antifoundation approach to
theology. George Lindbeck, a
post-Liberal theologian, has offered an 'intratextual' rather than
'extratextual', approach to reading Scripture, but he does so in pointing
theologians to the Jesus of the Scriptures:[7]
The believer, so an intratextual
approach would maintain, is not told primarily to be conformed to a
reconstructed Jesus of history (as Hans Kung maintains), nor to a metaphysical
Christ of faith (as in much of the propositionalist tradition), nor to an abba
experience of God (as for Schillebeeckx), nor to an agapeic way of being in the
world (as for David Tracy), but he or she is rather to be conformed to the
Jesus Christ depicted in the narrative.
An intratextual reading tries to derive the interpretive framework that
designates the theologically controlling sense from the literary structure of
the text itself.
This seems to be what we Evangelicals have advocated all along: the
text is authoritative, our theology must indwell the text and not some
reconstruction established on other grounds, such as history, psychology,
philosophy, anthropology, or the like.
But let us take an example of foundationalism from one of our own
champions, John Stott, not to denigrate his contribution to Evangelical
scholarship but to warn ourselves that this error is among us all too
often. In his book, Issues Facing the Church Today, Stott explores the characteristics
of 'leadership' for Christians. He
begins: 'There is a serious dearth of leaders in the contemporary world.'[8] This leads him into a rhetorically fine piece
on the characteristics of leaders, which for him include being visionary,
industrious, persevering, serving, and disciplined.
Such a description of leadership should become a cause for concern to
leadership studies, however, as it may be used to describe people from Mother
Theresa to Adolf Hitler. It raises the
question, on what foundation are
these characteristics of leadership built?
If our answer to this question is and always is 'Christ,' then we see
through the empty traditions of our philosophies and cultures that are
established on other foundations.
Indeed, the foundation of 'Christ' deconstructs most of what we
understand by 'leadership' in the world.
As Jesus said,
"You know that the
rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over
them. 26 It will not be so among you; but whoever wishes to be great among you
must be your servant, 27 and whoever wishes to be first among you must be your
slave; 28 just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to
give his life a ransom for many" (Mt. 20.25b-28).
Later in Colossians, Paul suggests a way in which to deconstruct and
reconstruct the contextually hierarchical relationships of 1st
century society on the foundation of Christ.
The foundation Paul advocates is again stated in 3.17: 'And whatever you do, in word or deed, do
everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father
through him'. This verse sums up
the previous sixteen verses, but it also is the basis for what follows as Paul
applies it to the wife-husband relationship, the child-parents relationship,
and then the slave-master relationship.
These three relationships made up the first century 'household'. If the husband, father, and master roles were
to be established on a 'leadership' foundation which Stott offers, the man of
the household would be visionary, industrious, persevering, serving, and
disciplined. But values are not
objective, and such values--or any others that we might suggest--need some kind
of narrative or tradition within which they might be interpreted.
Paul's foundation for these relationships is, as we have seen, Christ.
This foundation offers a new hermeneutic for interpreting the traditional
values in marriage in two ways.
First, values are interpreted with reference to the person and work of Christ,
our foundation for theology and ethics.
Second, there is a pairing of values for the two parties involved in the
relationship, both of which are founded on Christ. So, while the wife was traditionally subject to the
husband, this value of 'being subject' should now be seen in terms of what is fitting in the Lord (Col. 3.18). The context in
which this is possible is that in which the husband has learned to love the
wife with a Christ-like love (Col. 3.19).
Similarly, children have to
work out their relationship with their parents through the value of obedience,
but now Paul first places this value in the context of Christ's Lordship, and,
second, sees it flourishing when parents exercise a Christ-like behaviour
towards their children by not provoking them to disobedience, causing them to
lose heart in the relationship (Col. 3.20-21).
Slaves too are to obey
and perform their tasks wholeheartedly--values anyone in the Roman
establishment would approve. But they
are to do so as serving the Lord (Col. 3.22-25). And this
practice is the more conceivable when masters treat their slaves justly and
fairly, not because the institution of slavery permits this--it rather works
against it--but because masters too are to place their relationship in the
context of Christ's Lordship (Col. 4.1). Indeed,
following this to its natural conclusion, the very institution of slavery is
ultimately deconstructed, as in Paul's letter to Philemon.
This 'Christ foundation' for the household of the 1st
century is, therefore, both deconstructive and reconstructive. It deconstructs social institutions of 1st
century Roman culture, not by overthrowing those institutions but by
deconstructing the abusive power relationships within them. It reconstructs relationships through each
person seeing his or her roles in terms of Christ, and each relationship being
brought into a relationship with Christ.
Let us return to the larger question of an alternative 'created order'
foundation on which to build. As the
Colossian teachers explored this approach to theology and ethics, they sought
to build upon a foundationalism which Paul terms the 'stoicheia' (Col. 2.8, 20). Commentators
explore whether these stoicheia were
conceived of in terms of material elements, foundational principles, or
spiritual authorities controlling our world.
Paul does not entertain these distinctions, however, since his concern
is not with what these stoicheia are but that they are considered alternative foundations for Christian
theology and ethics.
Although they are not opposite
foundations to Christ, they are contrary
to Christ if He is, indeed, the fullness of deity in bodily form (2.9). Thus Paul caps their authority, or captures
it, rather than ignores or denies it. He
does so first by insisting that these powers
are created by Christ, and
therefore have no independent authority of their own. In saying so, Paul allows that these
alternative foundations have authority--they are not opposite to Christ. What authority they have, however, is
derivative.
But Paul's second argument demonstrates that such authorities heeded
apart from Christ become contrary to Christ.
They cannot become foundations in and of themselves. Paul concludes this paragraph with this
second argument: through the cross
Christ has disarmed, made a public spectacle of, and triumphed over these
contrary authorities. How is this
so? Because the way of the cross is the
way of Christ, and it offers an alternative way of construing the world.
So, for example, Paul submits his own ministry to the foundation of
Christ. He says in Col. 1.24, 'I am now rejoicing in my sufferings for your
sake, and in my flesh I am completing what is lacking in Christ's afflictions
for the sake of his body, that is, the church.'
His ministry takes the way of the cross.
If it were otherwise, his ministry would become something to examine in
terms of 1st century leadership.
But he chooses the way of suffering service instead.
Similarly, what light there is in another
foundation--creation or the Law, for example--if understood apart from the full story of
Christ, will become contrary to Christ when it is not taken up by and into Christ.
Paul applies his singular foundation of Christ to
the Jewish Law of circumcision as an example, perhaps because this was also one
of the issues at Colosse (2.11-14). If
this Law of circumcision is taken up into Christ, then it is seen for what it
is, a symbol of the separation of God's covenant people from the sinful flesh,
from life apart from God lived through human effort, with its ultimate end
being death. This spiritual
interpretation of circumcision could be offered within Judaism per se. But catching it up into the story of Christ
brings out whatever spiritual light there was in the original practice. So now circumcision is understood spiritually
and in reference to the story of Christ: believers are buried with Christ and
raised with Him; they are done with trespasses and sin, are forgiven, and are
made alive with Christ (2.11-14).
If the Law is not seen in relation to the
foundation of Christ, it runs the danger of becoming a collection of
performances--a hollow tradition--seeming to offer a form of 'wisdom in
promoting self-imposed piety, humility, and severe treatment of the body, but …
of no value in checking self-indulgence' (2.23). But, says Paul, this alternative foundation
has led to condemnation, which has been nailed to the cross (2.14), and Christ
has 'disarmed the rulers and authorities and made a public example of them,
triumphing over them in it' (2.15). He,
and He alone, is our One Foundation.
This does not mean that Paul is opposed to moral
rules--ample evidence from his letters show this well enough. But the current theological climate in the
West finds rules inconsistent with what has just been said. Both a repudiation of foundationalism and a
repudiation of rules, laws and norms--as though these were examples of
foundationalism--are current in contemporary theology. However, just as Colossians is not
antifoundational, it is also not antinomian.
Paul's argument is that Christ is the foundation, and therefore rules,
laws and norms must be taken up into Him.
Paul does not oppose creation theology and the Law to Christ, as though
there is for Christians no light to be discovered here. He rather insists on establishing these on
Christ, understanding them through Christ.
Paul does not, as some theologians do today,
repudiate Old Testament laws in general in order to affirm monogamous, faithful
relationships of any consenting adults.
That move can only happen theologically if we repudiate with the
Docetists and Gnostics that Christ is creator.
The heresy of the Docetists and Gnostics was in opposing the order of
creation to that of redemption, and this is precisely what some believe
Christian theology must do today. They
argue that creation theology, with its marriage of a male and female or its
dominion over the earth has been eclipsed by Christ. They argue that we must oppose Christ to the
Law, which symbolises wrath and restraint, since Christ symbolises love and
freedom. But Paul had no such notion in
mind in Colossians, or anywhere else in his letters. In Col. 3 5-6, Paul writes
'Put to death,
therefore, whatever in you is earthly: fornication, impurity, passion, evil
desire, and greed (which is idolatry). 6
On account of these the wrath of God is coming on those who are disobedient.'
Sin is still sin, but Christ as foundation now
means that it is overcome through the death and resurrection of Christ rather
than human observances and effort to follow the Laws pertaining to it.
Conclusion:
We live in awkward times, in which it is
fashionable to be antifoundational, to deconstruct the idols of modernity, to
oppose laws and regulations by seeing arguments as always perspectival, a
matter of aesthetics, a playing of language games. As Christians, we can sail with this wind away
from false foundations. But we must see,
as too many mainline Christians have not seen, that this wind takes us nowhere,
or everywhere. We must, instead,
recognise with Paul that Christ is our compass.
More than that, to change the metaphor, He is our foundation, our very
life, for we are to make His life our own and come to full maturity in Him
(2.10). This is the challenge for
Christian mission theologians today. I
conclude with Paul's words:
'6 As you therefore
have received Christ Jesus the Lord, continue to live your lives in him, 7
rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were
taught, abounding in thanksgiving' (Col. 2.6-7).
[1] By this awkward phrase, Colwell means grace as the quality of
something--it is given, not achieved, and ever dependent on God's gracious
giving. See John Colwell, Living the Christian Story: The Distinctiveness of Christian Ethics (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2001, )p. 35.
[2] John Colwell, Living the
Christian Story, p. 243.
[3] John Milbank, Theology and
Social Theory (Oxford: Blackwell, 1990), p. 1.
[4] The Postmodern Condition: A
Report on Knowledge, trans. G. Bennington and B. Massumi (Minneapolis:
University of Minnesota Press, 1984), p. xxiv.
[5] John Colwell, Living the
Christian Story, pp. 221f.
[6] Oliver O'Donovan, Resurrection
and the Moral Order, p. 89; cf. Thomas F. Torrance, The Christian Doctrine of God, One Being Three Persons (Edinburgh:
T&T Clark, 1996), p. 25.
[7] George Lindbeck, (‘Christ and
Postmodernity, The Nature of Doctrine: Towards a Postliberal Theology,’ in Reading in Modern Theology: Britain and
America, ed. R. Gill (London: SPCK, 1995): 188-202.192f.
[8] John Stott, Issues Facing the
Church Today: A Major Appraisal of Contemporary Social and Moral Questions
(Basingstoke: Marshall Morgan and Scott, 1984), p. 327.