Madre's Missives

Theology is great, but it's not the Gospel

Sandra Ostapowich — Fri, 07 Jul 2006 18:13:39 -0600

Despite whatever complaints and commentary that I may express about my classes at the ELCA seminary, I am forever grateful that I got to study under the late Dr. Gerhard Forde...

What are we to do about God not preached? Nothing. We are to leave the not-preached God alone and pay attention to the God clothed and displayed in the Word. But how can we do that? Only, of course, to the degree that we are grasped by the preached God. In Luther's terms we cannot -- will not -- do it by ourselves, not apart from the proclamation. To put it bluntly, everyone theologizes here as they must. A veritable battle is being fought over us between God not preached and God preached. God not preached devours sinners without regret, but the preached God battles to snatch us away from sin and death.

All that, though difficult to swallow theologically, is understandable and perhaps acceptable. What puts everyone off, however, is the last sentence: the assertion that God hidden in majesty "has not bound himself by His word, but has kept himself free over all things." (LW 33:140 - quote below) The usual objection is this: if God not preached (God hidden in majesty) is not bound by God preached (by the Word of promise) but is free over all things, then there is no basis for certainty or confidence that the promise of the preached God will stand. The fearsome specter of a God hidden in majesty who can arbitrarily wipe out the promise has haunted theology every since.

The driving impulse of this haunted theology has been the persistent attempt to banish the specter of this terrifying absolute God (deus ipse) from sight, to try to bind this God not preached to theology's understanding of the revealed Word. But the only result of this attempt has been to forsake proclamation for explanation. Ironically, such theology abandons the real weapon it has against the unpreached God. For the point is not that theology, but God preached is the only defense against God not preached.

What prompted Luther to leave the specter of a God who has not "bound himself by his word, but has kept himself free over all things" to haunt us? There are at least three major reasons that should now be obvious. First and foremost, Luther recognized the primacy of the oral, spoken word, that particular type of discourse called proclamation, the living voice of the gospel. The burden of the passage quoted above is his insistence that we must take explicit theological note of this primacy and observe careful distinctions in our speaking between God not preached and God preached. Luther let the absolute God be, precisely to make room for the proclamation. So we have the remarkable circumstance that the argument Luther used to save the proclamation is the very one most systematic theologians since have thought would endanger it. The antithesis could hardly be more clear.

This is the classic illustration of how a theology that understands the place of proclamation will make certain moves and refuse to make others. Luther knew that only the proclamation -- only the preached God, the living Word here and now -- could save us from the God not preached, the absolute God. A theology that intends to save us by attempting to remove or render the God not preached harmless in the system makes just the wrong move. It fails to recognize the nature of the battle for the human soul. It maintains that it can bind God not preached to the Word and so "save" us. It makes the fatal assumption that it can accomplish more than the living Word. Theology must recognize its limits. It must understand that only the concrete address, the "I absolve you," the "I baptize you," will save us from the threat of the absolute God. Absolution is the only solution to the problem of the absolute!

The second major reason why Luther did not banish the absolute God from his theology is already implied in the first. Such banishment cannot be accomplished by any kind of theological artifice. Luther left the absolute God there in his theology because he knew he could do nothing about it. Nothing can be exalted above the absolute God. It simply is not true that God in general is bound even to an abstraction called the revealed Word. As Luther put it, "God does many things that he does not disclose to us in his word; he also wills many things which he does not disclose himself willing in his word." (Ibid.) What would happen if we were to claim that the absolute God is bound and limited by the Word? We would revert to the situation in which the preached Word -- "I desire not the death of the sinner" -- becomes a general statement by which God is bound and limited. But that is not true, nor does it accord God any particular honor. For sin and death continue, and nothing -- certainly not theology -- alters the reign of the absolute God except ("when and where it pleases God!") when the concrete proclamation interrupts and creates faith. Not even God can do anything about wrath in the abstract. Not even God can somehow unmask God in the abstract. The proclamation of the concrete, incarnate word set against the absolute God so as to create faith is the only way out. Faith means precisely to be grasped by the proclamation in the face of the terror of the absolute God, in the face of tribulation (Anfechtung), as Luther put it. Theology, no matter how sweetly done, does not cure tribulation. Theological opinion may provide momentary relief, but rarely does it survive the heat and evil of the day.

The third reason that prompted Luther to leave the specter of the absolute God alone is his knowledge that we as sinners live under the wrath of God. Our efforts -- even the best of them -- afford no escape. Theology, no matter how cleverly devised, cannot deliver us from the wrath of God. It may twist and turn to remodel God, try by every artifice to fashion less frightening masks, but in the end such masks only turn on us. We are sinners confronted by the masks we cannot see through. We cannot see God. Luther was not merely stating opinions at this point. He was describing as honestly as possible the actual state of things. No doubt only faith can risk such honesty.

Faith itself is endangered when the attempt is made theologically to bind the hidden God to the Word as abstraction. The nature of faith is transformed. Faith strives to become sight, to render the hidden God visible. Faith's object is not the proclaimed God, not the sacramental deed of God "for you" in the living present, but certain alleged truths about God in the past tense. Indeed, the very freedom of faith is consequently lost. Theology becomes a tour de force, an attempt to induce or perhaps even subtly force belief in the God one has conjured up. But faith is a matter of being set free from the God of the past tense. It is not a matter of deferring to the authority of this or that theologian, but a matter of being set free by the proclamation itself, by an actual word from God. Faith comes by hearing and being grasped by the proclamation. God speaks to you. Faith is the Spirit-fired free flight from the hidden to the revealed God.

The fact is that the terror of the absolute God reigns until the proclamation that creates faith announces its end and liberates the believer from it. Theology must learn to speak the truth about this. Theology must know its own limitations and speak honestly about the way things are. It must not tell sweet lies about God. It must assess the true nature of the battle so that it can be joined in proper fashion. Ironically, a theology that sets out to protect the proclamation by tying the absolute God to the revelation only undercuts the proclamation itself and bowdlerizes God. Small wonder that we find ourselves today with only tenuous belief in a platitudinous God and little consciousness of what God wills to say to us. So we talk mostly about ourselves.

* "God must therefore be left to himself in his own majesty, for in this regard we have nothing to do with him, nor has he willed that we should have anything to do with him. But we have something to do with him insofar as he is clothed and set forth in his Word, through which he offers himself to us and which is the beauty and glory with which the psalmist celebrates him as being clothed. In this regard we say, the good God does not deplore the death of his people which he works in them, but he deplores the death which he finds in his people and desires to remove from them. For it is this that God as he is preached is concerned with, namely that sin and death should be taken away and we should be saved. For "he sent his word and healed them." [Ps. 107:20]. But God hidden in his majesty neither deplores nor takes away death, but works life, death, and all in all. For there he has not bound himself by his word, but has kept himself free over all things." (LW 33:140)

Forde, Gerhard O. Theology is for Proclamation (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1990) 27-30.

"You meant it for evil...

Sandra Ostapowich — Tue, 04 Jul 2006 23:54:06 -0600

...but God meant it for good." (Genesis 50:20)

I used to think that verse was so comforting because it meant that when life gave me lemons, God would make lemonade out of it. We hear things like that all the time. Bad, evil, horrible things happen in our lives that are just the effects of living in a sinful world full of sinful people and being sinners who do sinful things. That's just the way it happens. The bumper sticker is right. "Stuff" happens.

Then I got thinking some more. Does that mean that when something bad happens, when I'm suffering, that something slipped by God when He wasn't looking? Oh, not to worry, He'll help me get through it, make it better, turn it all out for good in the end. But that still doesn't answer the question of how it happened in the first place.

Joseph's replies to his brothers in the way that faith speaks. They most definitely meant it for evil when they beat him, threw him into a pit, sold him into slavery, and faked his death to their father, Jacob. But all the while that was happening, all those evil things they (and others) did to him...God meant it all for good.

That's something entirely different. God meant it. It didn't slip by, God didn't just make a whole lotta really nice lemonade for Joseph out of the lemons life threw his way. God meant it all to happen to Joseph. It was on purpose. He didn't "allow" it to happen (St. Augustine's "cliche"). It was for good, that many people should be kept alive, as they are today.

Joseph really couldn't have meant THAT, could he? How could anyone seriously believe such an crazy idea?? He HAS to be faking it. How in the world could such evil be the work of God, and what kind of idiot would ever call it "good" without first seeing how God makes it good? He needs to protect God from being God. Someone needs to teach Joseph the highest art of being a real theologian. And fast, before someone actually hears what he says and believes that God could be so good to Joseph's family as to look out for them...without them looking out for God.

Or maybe he gets it better than most of us "real" theologians...

Joseph's got God's Word to him. God is going to be good to His family - to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He has these wild dreams in which God tells him of his future relationship with his family. And boy, does he talk and meditate on it day and night! Day AND night to the point that his brothers are so sick and tired of hearing about what God is telling little Joseph in his dreams that they beat him up, throw him into a pit, sell him into slavery and fake his death. And there's his suffering at the hands of his brothers, the slave traders, Potifar, jailtime, all suffering for the faith, the words that God Himself has put into him.

In fact, this God-given gift Joseph has for interpreting dreams is what not only got his brothers riled up so that they did evil things to him, but it gets him the #2 spot ruling Egypt as Pharoah's right-hand man. Is that God making the best of a bad situation and turning something evil into a good outcome? It doesn't look that way to me.

I mean, really, what kind of God does that sort of thinking show us anyway? That while He was busy adorning field lilies and fluffing sparrow feathers, Satan manages to sneak doozies into our lives? Am I to believe that He was just looking the other way when I was wooed by an attractive, smooth-talking Navy S.E.A.L. into spending a few days with him and his friends, when really a round-trip ticket and a bit of vodka for a "nice" girl was a heckuva better deal than the going rates from the "experienced" ladies in TiaJuana. Is God really that powerless and inattentive? Or maybe He was teaching me a lesson, punishing me for my own stupidity and rebelliousness for going on the trip against the advice of friends and family. Is He that cold and cruel?

But faith reminds us that our Father has only good for us - and Joseph - all the time. Not only does He save us from the truly evil and horrible suffering that we deserve for our sins, He usually does so in ways we don't see Him working at all, or at least not until after the fact when we, like Moses in the cleft of the rocks, can see where He has been. But the cool thing about God is that He's so good at being God and good at doing good, He doesn't have to check with us about how He's going to work good for us. He does something and it's good.

He saves us in such hidden ways that we usually miss His working and abandon the promises He has made to us in Christ. We get caught up in our faithless suffering, tempted into believing that somehow we don't deserve to suffer at all, that it can't possibly get any worse, that God has forgotten about us, and that we really are alone in the big, bad world. We forget that even in our suffering, God counts and cares for every hair on our heads, that our dear Father only has good gifts for His children, that He has not even spared His beloved only-begotten Son to save us from the torment and suffering we truly deserve, and has nothing left with which to punish us since He poured out all His wrath for our sons upon Christ instead of us.

That's what bearing our crosses is really about. It's not that "date rape" is itself a cross to bear, some sort of suffering we must endure with a stiff upper lip simply because we're Christians. It doesn't take a Christian to do that. Even a Pagan can find a rainbow at the end of a tragic situation. The Cross of being a Christian is to confess the Faith of Jesus through suffering, keeping the Cross of Christ before us when everything in and around us tempts us do otherwise. Now that's bearing a cross!

And yes, that may mean that some days I don't actually believe God's promises to me in Christ are true, some days that it's just THAT bad and my world turned so upside-down and inside-out that I can barely remember which way is up, much less that I'm baptized. My confession won't be all that heartfelt and I will just be repeating words that, honestly, seem cliche to even me. My witness certainly won't be convincing to others, I'm not even buying it. But that doesn't make it any less true. Yet repeating it and confessing anyway it is bearing my cross in the way Christ did, in the way of the Gospel.

When I was raped by my boyfriend, Pete meant it for evil. God meant it for good, so that many people today may be kept safe from others like him...

Yes, I am a poseur in the faith, pray for me.

St. Mark 9:24

Audio Madre

Sandra Ostapowich — Thu, 01 Sep 2005 09:30:43 -0600

Madre on Issues, Etc. starting at about 43:00

Part II

Reflecting a Reflection - I am Baptized!

Sandra Ostapowich — Wed, 31 Aug 2005 15:33:21 -0600

"But in all things commending ourselves as ministers of God, in much patience, in hard circumstances, in needs, in distresses, in plagues, in imprisonments, in insurrections, in work, in sleeplessness, in fastings, in purity, in knowledge, in longsuffering, in kindness, in the Holy Spirit, in genuine love, in the Word of truth, in the power of God; through the weapons of righteousness of the right hand and the left, through honor and dishonor, through slander and good reputation, as deceitful and true, as being ignorant and being known, as dead and behold we live, as instructed and not put to death, as sorrowful and always rejoicing, as poor and making many rich, as having nothing and also possessing everything." (2 Corinthians 6:1-10)

In the name of Jesus. Amen. When things got really bad for Dr. Luther, he would remind himself, "Baptizatus sum." That means, "I am baptized." When it seems like everything has gone wrong and everything is messed up, you are baptized. And when it seems that all you have going for you is your Baptism, then you have everything!

That's how St. Paul can put such opposites together in our Reflection for today! All these opposites joined together, they don 't seem to fit. Honor and dishonor, slander and good reputation, deceitful and true, being ignorant and knowing, dead and behold we live, all of these are only true because St. Paul is baptized.

In times requiring patience, you are baptized. In great suffering, you are baptized. In hard work, you are baptized. In dire need, you are baptized.

In distresses, plagues, when they throw you in prison, you are baptized. When they revolt against you, in work, when you can 't sleep, then you are baptized, baptized, and baptized. When you don 't have enough to eat, when you hear the Gospel in its purity, when the kindness of God is obvious even to you and me: baptized, baptized, baptized, and baptized.

This is true solely because of the Cross of Christ. There on the Cross, Jesus took all that we ever have done - good and bad - and died in our place. He took what He earned and gave it to us. We are sons of God because He is the Son of God. We are heirs to heaven and earth, because all things were given to Him. We are kings and will rule forever and ever, for He is the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords.

All of that becomes ours in Holy Baptism! Jesus delivers Himself to us in the waters of our Baptism. He delivers everything to us through His ministers. We, who are dead, are, behold, made alive! We, who are sorrowful over our sins, rejoice! We, who are poor, are rich in the Spirit.

We, who have nothing, posses everything! At the font, it is given to us because, there, Christ is delivered to us.

When things look good, we are baptized. When things are normal, we are baptized. And when everything has gone wrong and it looks especially bleak, then this is most certainly true: Baptizatus sum! In the name of Jesus. Amen.

(Even) The Law as Gift Received

Sandra Ostapowich — Thu, 19 May 2005 01:25:11 -0600

I've had a number of what I call "blah" days over the last year or so. It's not a persistent thing, I've just got some things going on in my life that aren't much fun and bring me down from time to time.

When something new happens, some reminder that life is not what I expected or think it should be, it can really throw me for a loop. And before I know it, I'm a snowball tumbling down the mountain, becoming more packed in upon myself. All I can see are my problems.

"I can't believe this is happening to me. This isn't how my life was supposed to go. How in the world did I end up like this? How can it be this way? Nothing is ever going to go my way, everything is just so stacked against me" The litany can go on for hours.

So then I talk to my friend, Pr. Bloghardt, hoping to get some comfort and encouragement in the depths of my woe. I want to be told it's going to be OK...that things will get better soon - I just have to hold on a little bit longer. I want to hear that God didn't mean things to be this way for me, that I don't deserve it.

And what does he do?

He calls me faithless! ME. Faithless! Unbelieving. Idolatrous. He tells me I'm despising the Lord's gifts. And THEN (as if that wasn't enough) he has the gall to tell me to repent. How dare he? Doesn't he know how bad things are?

It's about at this point that I am ready to tear into him and tell him where he can go take a flying leap, where I'm about to call him every name I can think of...that the Holy Spirit always manages to get through to me with Law he's very pointedly hammered me with. I realize he's right.

(Of course, this just makes me mad. I HATE being wrong. Especially if my little..er...younger "brother", Bloghardt, is the one who was right. Fortunately, this is a pastoral thing and he doesn't tease me about being wrong. Usually.)

But he's right. As much as I don't like being on the receiving end of such a gift, I need to be chastised when I am sinning. Yes, sinning.

My "blah" days tempt me into despair, into unbelief, and idolatry. When life in this sinful world throws me for a loop, I take my eyes off Christ for me and get sucked into all my trials and tribulations. When things aren't going the way I want them to, I all too easily forget that I have a heavenly Father who loves me and has spared nothing for me - including His only-begotten Son. And all of this shows just how self-centered I truly am, to think that I am somehow the one really in control of my life, that everything should work together and end up the way I want, and I'm really the only one who knows what's really best for me.

So I repent and receive absolution. Sometimes I even feel better afterwards. Most times it's still a struggle, even just a few minutes later. But I have been reminded that I am baptized, my sins have been forgiven, I have a dear heavenly Father who only gives me gifts that are good for me...even when they sting...and even sometimes from voice of Pr. Bloghardt.

"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written, For thy sake we are killed all the day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter. Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:35-39)

Cross or Gift?

Sandra Ostapowich — Sat, 14 May 2005 03:04:13 -0600

There's no denying that we live in a world where "stuff" happens. We see it everywhere, we really can't get away from it. If we look at it long enough, and it draws us in and it's simply overwhelming. It consumes us, and we are driven to despair. I was born a "disfigured" child with a cleft lip. I know all about rape. My son was unwanted. What words of comfort do we have for me?

"Tough toenails. Buck up, li'l Christian. Take up your Cross like a good son. Have more faith. Life is hard. God doesn't mean you to have such suffering in your life. That's sin, so that's your fault. But oh well, here it is. Don't worry, it's only temporary. Now wipe your nose, stop your complaining, and bear the crosses you have been given in this life. Jesus did, now it's your turn."

THIS is supposed to comfort me? This is supposed to encourage me to bear up under the weight of this sinful life? Have more faith! Believe harder! All this Law only serves to make me even more aware of my sinfulness, my doubts, and my suspicion. And telling me that God didn't intend my life to be the way it is supposed to make me trust him MORE?

Huh???

I don't know about these other people, but MY heavenly Father only gives me good gifts. Everything that I receive in my life, is because my Father loves me and is gifting me. Nothing sneaks by Him, nothing happens to me apart from His care for me in Christ - because I am Baptized. Even when things don't go the way I think they should, even when men do evil things to us, even when everything looks hopeless it is a gift.

Of course, I can think of all sorts of gifts I'd rather receive than the "unpleasant" ones I'm getting at the time. Do I really know what's best for me better than He does? That goes for you too, Padre. You and Amy love Sophia dearly and only want the best for her (and we all know who does the hard work of caring for her daily needs, Pr. I-don't-change-stinky-diapers...). How much more does your heavenly Father love her and give her all that is hers, as an heir of the Kingdom, in Christ?

By faith we believe those baptismal promises in Christ even while we're smack in the middle of incredible suffering - that what is going on is really a gift. But because we are baptized, we don't have to just grit our teeth and bear our crosses now, waiting to one day get our gifts from God in heaven...if we persevere. They're ours now, in Christ. How in the world can I say this? ONLY by faith, that is, by Jesus.

When everything around us and in us screams to deny that something is a gift - this is too horrible, this is intolerable, this just cannot be - it is the gift of faith given to us in Baptism that clings for dear life to the Word of God in the water that we are the Father's beloved children, and this, too, is a gift. What I must wait for is to <i>see</i> how that was so. But by faith, we know that all our sins, all our suffering, all our struggles, our doubt, our rejection of God's gifting, was already put on Christ so that we wouldn't have to bear on our own anything that truly was as horrible as we imagine.

So, is suffering a cross to bear OR gift? These are spurious alternatives! The crosses we bear ARE gifts, because our cross is HIS Cross, which He bore for us. We're such sinners we even sin in our suffering and cross-bearing. "Look at my cross, it's so big and heavy, oh how I suffer so...Look at how well I bear my cross, how I overcome such adversity!" That's why the suffering of this life cannot be just about bearing crosses and hoping for something better one day. It's always about Christ and how He suffered in my place, and that makes all that He has for me...gift.