by Delwin Brown
To many progressive Christians this way of addressing the question will seem unpromising, if not utterly shocking. Few of us think of what came to be known as the "christological" councils-because they debated about the nature of Christas being particularly progressive. Indeed, in the history of Christian theology, and still today, their conclusions are often cited in an attempt to reign in supposedly aberrant forms of Christian belief. And that, in fact, was their original purpose, too-to cut back the great flowering of Christian expression in the first few centuries in order to produce the well-pruned tree of "orthodoxy. More than that, the conciliar process was often motivated by political rather than theological interests, conducted via infighting and intrigue, and driven by the needs of empire for unity and control. What could these christological councils contribute to a progressive Christian understanding of Jesus? Let's consider that question.
'Ihe councils sought to establish an orthodox framework within which all other interpretations of Jesus, if valid, should fit as elements or parts of its "authoritative" whole. 'this framework was "incarnationism," the view that God is incarnate in Jesus Christ. This was but one construal of the significance of Jesus in the New Testament, of course, and a late one at that, best articulated by the Gospel of John. But by the fourth century it had gained pre-eminence. The purpose of the councils was to clarify this idea, to say what it did and did not mean. The conclusion of the councils was audacious-a conclusion, I think, that Christianity has not fully assimilated even to this day!
'Ilse first council was at Nicea in 325. It was about the relationship of the "Word" or, we might say, the "form of divinity" present in Jesus to the divinity of God himself. A theologian named Arius (who ended up losing the argument) wished, quite admirably, to protect the uniqueness of God's divinity. With that in mind, he insisted that the divinity present in Christ was, so to speak, made by God but it was not one with God's own divinity. It was certainly a divine identity, but a divinity lower than Gods. Arius's view was rejected at Nicea: the council concluded that the Word (or divinity) present in Christ was begotten of God, born of Gods own substance. 'Ihe divinity of Jesus was the same as the Father's.
'I his is arcane language, to be sure, but it is also extraordinary in its meaning. It is saying that the God who is present in Jesus is the "truly true" God, not some lesser form of divinity. It is a rejection of the view that there are higher and lower levels of divinity and that the divinity present in Jesus is not God's. Nicea was adamant: Even if the divinity in Jesus is next to the top, right under God's, that does not suffice. 'Ihe God present in Jesus is the real and full and true God.
'Ihe next council came in 381 at Constantinople. 'the main question it addressed is a reasonable one: If the divinity present in Jesus is true divinity, how can Jesus' humanity be our kind of humanity? Humanity is intrinsically imperfect, necessarily other than divinity. How can full divinity be present in imperfect men and women? "It cannot;' was the reply of many thoughtful Christians. The humanity of Jesus, they said, must have been a unique kind of humanity, perhaps even a pretended humanity, but not humanity as we know it.
No, the council concluded. The full divinity of deity became flesh, became human, exactly as we are. The "truly true" God became one with "truly true" humanity. In Jesus, according to the council, real divinity is at one with real humanity.
Well, is that in fact possible? The controversy continued about what was now a doubly perplexing claim, that real and true divinity is present in real and true humanity. So another half century later, in 431, a third council was convened, in Ephesus. It debated the relationship of the humanity and divinity that prior councils had said characterized Jesus.
The most credible view of this relationship, it seemed to some, was to say that the divinity of God, although "in" Jesus' full humanity, was nevertheless separate from it-enveloped in it, perhaps, as an egg can be in, but separate from, a basket. Jesus was fully divine in intellect but human in all other respects-that was one version of this proposal. Or Jesus had a fully divine soul in an otherwise fully human person-that was another.
No, the council insisted. In Jesus, true divinity is perfectly united with true humanity. Full divinity (not some lesser divinity) and full humanity (not some elevated humanity) are "perfectly united" (not partially so).
The Council of Chalcedon followed twenty years later, in 451, in part to beat back a further effort to moderate the radical incarnationism of previous councils. The Council of Chalcedon rejected that effort. What happened in Jesus, it affirmed, is the full union of full divinity with full humanity.
Why, we must ask, did the christological councils insist on so puzzling a formula? To get at an answer we should ask a prior question: what, theologically, were they attempting to do? The answer is this: they were trying to give unqualified force to the claim that full and complete salvation is made possible in Jesus Christ. Not some lesser salvation, not partial salvation, not salvation for a specialized form of humanity. Their intent was to claim that somehow, in Jesus, fully adequate salvation is fully possible for fully human beings.
But why did the councils settle on this particular formula for making that point? Because they assumed, first, that divinity, whatever else it is or does, is the source of salvation, and, second, that divinity works by somehow becoming one with, joining with, that which it seeks to save. The most succinct expression of this view was Gregory of Nyssa's: "What God has not assumed, God has not saved" It is by becoming one with humanity that God makes our salvation possible. Since the Christian claim is that salvation is possible, then it was necessary for the councils to insist that the true God has truly taken on true humanity.
The Message of the Councils for Today
The point of Christology is the doctrine of the incarnationthe claim that God has become one with humanity. That, put mildly, is an extraordinary assertion. But in fact the doctrine becomes even more extraordinary if we take seriously another basic affirmation in the New Testament. This is the claim, strange to our ears, that salvation is about more than humanity; it is about the world. John says that the purpose of the incarnation is the salvation of the world. "God so loved the world"-that is John's good news. And Paul, in Romans 8, proclaims the coming salvation of not only "we ourselves;' but of "the entire created order" The whole creation, Paul says, will be set free from its bondage to decay and death. And why not? If, in the Christian view, God created the world and saw it to be good, should we then be surprised by the claim that God will save the creation, too?
Of course this is not how we are inclined to understand salvation. As modern Westerners we are accustomed to thinking in ways that center first on the individual self, and then on selves collectively, on humanity. "Ihe idea that salvation (whatever it may be) might apply to the entire creation seems bizarre. What is strange to us, however, was not strange in the biblical world, as we shall see in a later chapter. 'Ihe biblical world was a world of connections, among people and between people and their larger natural and symbolic environments. chat is why it seemed reasonable to the early followers of Jesus to think of what he had accomplished not simply in personal, but also in cosmic, terms. Salvation had to be conceived comprehensively because the world was conceived as interconnected.
Whatever our response to so robust a view of salvation, its requirements are already implicit in the doctrine of the incarnation, when that doctrine is taken to its logical conclusion. In Jesus of Nazareth we have come to see that God is with us. But not with us only, tier God seeks the salvation of the "entire created order" So if God assumes what God seeks to save, then God is somehow incarnate in the entire creation-the ordinary and extraordinary, the broken and the whole, the known and the unknown, the familiar and the mysterious world in all its dimensions. God is not reducible to the world; "God" and "world" are not synony►ns. The world is not perfect. But God's place is this imperfect place, and its destiny and Gods are joined. God is with us, and the "us" includes all creation.
'Ihe Gosp
el of John expresses this by saying that God is one with the world as its "logos" or "organizational structure." 'This logos, present everywhere, is revealed to us in Jesus of Nazareth. In the history of Christian reflection, the oneness of creator and creation, the divine and the non-divine, has been conceived in varied ways, always seeking, as John did, to use the concepts of the day to attempt to make the point. Progressive Christians today may choose to think about this God/world relationship anew, using modern resources. That topic will be addressed in the next chapter.
For now the proposal is simply this: that we ground our progressive Christian vision in the bold good news of the christological councils, taken to its logical conclusion. 'I he divine is at one with the cosmos and all that is in it. God is in and with the world. God is with its and the rest of creation, too-fully God, fully world, fully one.
Some Consequences of a Progressive Christology
What does the doctrine of the incarnation mean, concretely, for a progressive Christian understanding? "Ihe remainder of this book is an effort to contribute to the development of an answer to that question. We can begin now, however, by noting one very basic implication, and some of its practical corollaries.
At its most basic level, the doctrine of the incarnation means that we are at home in the world. We are at home in the world precisely because God is. We belong to the world. Its ways are our ways.
Therefore, we know the physical world in the same way that others know the world. The fallible, self-correcting process of scientific inquiry is not alien to us. We do not have or need a separate, special way of knowing facts about the created order.
Therefore, we participate in the world of values in the same way that others do. The arts and philosophies of our many cultures are all places where God is present. All are vehicles for the expression of the divine, however partially. We do not claim or want to claim some special status for our cultural patterns and modes of thought.
Therefore, we seek the healing of the world alongside of others, working in the same ways that others work. The worldly processes in which justice struggles to be born and grow are the processes in which God is working to bring about wholeness and healing. We do not know of a process of salvation that excludes the psychological, social, political, economic, and cultural dimensions of life.
Therefore, too, our religious yearnings and insights are of a piece with those of others. The incarnation of God means that all of the world's religions are frail but fecund sites of the divine. Seeing God in Christ has taught us that. We may say with John's gospel that no one comes to God except through Christ, but "Christ" is the Christian name for the logos of God in all of creation, including all religions. We do not have a privileged religious perspective, and we do not need one in order to embrace and proclaim our faith.
But just as we hope to learn from other religious traditions, and do, we believe that the incarnation in Jesus, proclaimed in the New Testament, has something of saving value for others to consider and to appropriate according to the light of the divine in their lives.
In the birth of Jesus we see the gentleness and vulnerability of the divine. We believe that God works through ordinariness, not shock and awe, and that caring for the divine work of redemption is everywhere placed in our small human hands.
In the actions of Jesus we see the primacy of God's com- mitnment to the neglected ones. We believe that advocating for the excluded-because of race, class, gender, sexual orientation, and whatever other forms of exclusion become apparent to us-is a continuation of the ministry of Jesus.
In the compassion of Jesus for the least ones we become aware of God's love for all of the creation. We believe we are called to respect and care for the entire creation-human and non-human, spiritual and physical-as the creation loved by God.
In the parables and other teachings of Jesus, we hear God's challenge to every human convention, every status quo. We believe that God calls us to a world that is always more than we have, more than we ask for, more even than we can imagine.
In the persecution of Jesus we witness the seemingly intractable evil that the divine work of salvation everywhere faces. We believe that the redemptive process is a work, a struggle, the success of which is never automatic, its preservation never guaranteed.
In the crucitixion of Jesus we see the willingness of God to suffer and to die, with and for us, if that is what oneness with the world requires. We believe that God's commitment to the world is without limits because it is motivated by unlimited love.
In the resurrection of Jesus we experience the tenacity of a God who will not let go of us or the rest of creation. We believe that no defeat diminishes the divine resolve to seek the human good and the good of the entire created order.
In Jesus Christ we believe we see intimations of a God who is incarnate-a God who is with us fully, and fully, too, with all creation.
POINTS FOR REFLECTION
• The New Testament is an interpretation of Jesus of Nazareth by those whose lives he had transformed. Their interpretations varied because Jesus was experienced differently by different followers.
• The diversity of interpretations of Jesus is not a problem. It is a reservoir to enrich, provoke, and challenge our own interpretations of Jesus. We should maintain this reservoir of manifold understandings.
• Each of the varied interpretations of Jesus calls us to be no less specific today about the meaning of Jesus for our time. For this, quite surprisingly, we might find guidance in the creeds of the ancient councils.
• The claim of Nicea, however arcane it sounds, was extraordinary-it said that the God made present in Jesus is the "truly true" God, not some lesser form of divinity.
• 'Ihe claim of Constantinople was as audacious as that of Nicea. It insisted that the true God was at one with true humanity, not some unusual or extraordinary humanity.
• 'Ihe councils at Ephesus and Chalcedon were no less bold. 'They said the oneness of true divinity and true humanity was not partial; it was full and complete. This is the doctrine of divine "incarnation.
• 'Ihe councils insisted on the full union of full divinity with full humanity in order to claim that in Jesus full salvation is possible. Underlying their claim was the insight that God saves by becoming one with that which God seeks to save.
• St. Paul claims that salvation is not only for "we ourselves;' but also for the "entire created order" (Romans 8). If God becomes one with what God seeks to save, then God is incarnate in the entire creation-fully God, fully world, fully one.
• In Jesus Christ we believe we see intimations of a God who is incarnate-a God who is with us fully, and fully, too, with all creation.
Chapter 4
God:
Exploring the Depths
mericans overwhelmingly believe in God. It is not clear that they overwhelmingly think about that ,belief-what it means, whether it is credible, and its consequences for everyday life. For Christians, however, an unreflective faith is not possible if we take seriously the injunction to love God with the mind as well as the heart and soul. A faith immune to open and self-critical reflection-reflection subject to the full range of evidence at hand-is not a progressive Christian faith. Indeed, it is not an authentic standpoint for any Christian who acknowledges the biblical insistence that we should "be prepared to give a reason for the faith" that guides our lives. It is not clear, however, that we are prepared!
Perhaps it is becoming less easy to believe in God unreFlectively. If so, the credit should go in part to the writings of the socalled "militant atheists" whose hooks currently are bestsellers and the subject of media discussion almost everywhere. 'Their criticisms are in important ways uninformed about the nature of religion and, in particular, about the history of Christianity. Even so, their critiques do apply, with a vengeance, to the view of God as all-knowing and all-powerful ruler and judge that characterizes much of American Christianity today. But the militant atheists also criticize more progressive forms of Christ
ian thought. In particular they allege that our progressive perspectives serve only to veil, not replace, the repressive view of deity which, they say, is the true Christian view.
Progressive Christians should listen to the claims of all their adversaries, including these. Not only do they deserve our respect as generally thoughtful seekers of truth, they provide important checks on our temptation as self-described "progressive" thinkers to be too confident of our conclusions. But they are also helpful, if unwitting, allies in the progressive Christian's effort to unmask and reject the repressive view of God that has infected so much of Christianity.
Reclaiming the Incarnate God
Many Christians view God as the all-powerful ruler of the universe whose will controls the direction of human life, the development of history, and the destiny of the entire creation. God is the cosmic monarch. Whatever happens, good or evil, is caused or permitted by this God in "his" infinite wisdom.
'1 here may be temporary comfort in believing that everything is determined or at least permitted by God, but there is also puzzlement and moral distress. One puzzle is why, if all that happens is in accord with the will of God, we should try as diligently as we do to make things better. Why seek to improve upon the course of events that accord with the will of God? Or, if God has ordained that we should seek improvement on the things that "he" has caused or permitted, why did God cause or permit them in the first place? If that is not an intolerably callous way to run a universe, it is, at the least, poor planning.
`Ibis intellectual puzzle, however, leads to great personal anguish when it is coupled with the belief that this allpowerful monarch is good and loving. Why, indeed, would a loving God bring about, or even allow, the wasteful destruction that besets nature, history, and every human life? We have human bodies which, although marvelous, could still do with a few design improvements, some of which we have made already. Surely an omnipotent, loving God would do better. We witness human brutality to other humans and to the rest of creation that we, with only limited goodness, know to be outrageous and seek feverishly to end. Surely an omnipotent God could, and if loving would, end or at least diminish the wanton brutality all around us.
