Donald Bloesch
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RamistThomist
Puritanboard Assessor
He is quasi-Barthian. Some will balk at that. He refuses to see that holding to inspiration does not equate with holding to mechanical inspiration. He also refuses to see that Calvinism allows for secondary causes. If it did not, then his critique would be accurate.
That said, he is an awesome writer. His book, The Struggle of Prayer is earth-shaking. Yes, he is heavily influenced by Barth. But we're big boys and we should not be scared of interacting with those who disagree with us.
That said, he is an awesome writer. His book, The Struggle of Prayer is earth-shaking. Yes, he is heavily influenced by Barth. But we're big boys and we should not be scared of interacting with those who disagree with us.
Jerusalem Blade
Puritan Board Doctor
I have The Struggle of Prayer, Jacob, but never read it. I take what you said as a recommendation, and will look in it. Thanks.
DMcFadden
Puritanboard Commissioner
Bloesch holds to a position he dubs "revelational fideism." His Barthian side comes out as he takes away with one hand much of what he gave with the other.
Bloesch’s program for theology begins with his diagnosis of the problem of much contemporary evangelicalism, namely rationalism. Rationalism represents for Bloesch a tragic misdirection. Relying upon Protestant scholastics such as Francis Turretin, Princeton theologians Hodge and Warfield, evangelical pioneers such as Carl F.H. Henry, and contemporary writers such as the popular theologians Wayne Grudem and R.C. Sproul, rationalists have dominated much of conservative evangelicalism.
Bloesch sees the natural fruit of rationalist seeds in a reliance upon “propositional” revelation. Again, for him, this represents “one of the banes of modern evangelicalism.” Such preoccupation with propositional theories of revelation treats human logic and knowledge as equated with that of God and the interpreter seeks to deduce true propositions from Scripture. Through processes of reasoning from first principles to conclusions, very much like Aristotelian philosophy, the theologian ends up cutting off God’s revelation in the Bible from the “living, dynamic being of God himself and his continual self-giving through Christ and in the Spirit.” For Bloesch this involved a victory of dogmatic affirmations over dramatic unfoldings, a reduction of revelation to verbal concstructs rather than personal encounter, and an increasing identification of the Bible with divine revelation rather than being seen as a conduit of revelation. In place of a theology of Word and Spirit, Bloesch sees rationalism opting for a synthesis with cultural wisdom and a preoccupation with timeless truth. He objects to the rationalistic tendency towards a univocal predication of God over the concepts of equivocity and analogy which Bloesch prefers.
Citing T.F. Torrance’s explanation of what he calls “the Latin heresy,” Bloesch reasons that when the deposit of faith came to be identified with a fixed formula (the regula fidei) that might be handed down from generation to generation, Scripture was treated as a fixed compendium of truths, a kind of Aristotelian first principles. This process, which Torrance sees beginning with Tertullian and coming to fruition in contemporary fundamentalism, “cuts off God’s revelation in the Bible from the living, dynamic being of God himself and his continual self-giving through Christ and in the Spirit.” The result of building ideas deduced from the Scriptures into a logico-deductive system of propositional truths yields propositional revelation. Carl Henry therefore becomes exhibit one for discovering the unity of Scripture in a “logical system of shared beliefs.”
If Bloesch rejects propositional revelation for its rationalism, he also makes short shrift of narrative theology. Associated with the Yale school (Frei, Lindbeck, Placher, Garrett Green), this postmodern approach elevates mythos over logos, pnumatology over christology, henotheism over monotheism, pluralism over both exclusivism and inclusivism. Whereas propositional approaches to truth emphasize declarative statements of “truth,” narrative theology expresses truth through the telling of a story, either in prose or poetic form. This way of thinking gives precedence to the experiential over the logical. Bloesch rejects the notion that God’s self-revelation in Christ can be reduced to either propositions or to narrations. For him a theology of Word and Spirit “seeks to transcend the cleavage between dogmatism and mysticism, logos and mythos. It perceives the unity of logos and mythos in the dramatic unfolding of the salvation history mirrored in the Bible.” Against narrative theology, Bloesch argues that the Bible presents truth claims as well as stories and that it yields “infallible information concerning God.” The Gospel is, after all, more than an inspiring story. Against propositional revelation, he denies that divine revelation is self-evident in the Bible nor is it immediately available to the mind.
In order to deal with the objective and subjective elements of reality, Bloesch proposes a creative synthesis which can only be sustained by means of a continual reliance upon a dialectical method and generous use of the concept of paradox. Calling his approach “fideistic revelationalism,” Bloesch comprehends his method as a “theology of Word and Spirit.” It counters both descriptive views of theology (e.g., Lindbeck) and constructive ones (e.g., Schubert Ogden) with prescriptive affirmations carrying true metaphysical importance.
Bloesch critiques rationalism for its tendency to hold to credo quia intelligo (I believe because I understand). Traditional fideism can be faulted for its credo quia absurdum est (I believe because it is absurd). Bloesch identifies his own view with what he considers the classical evangelical tradition: credo ut intelligam (I believe in order to understand). Revelation, for Bloesch, represents the personal, historical, objective-subjective communication of God which comes to us in human forms. It provides the irreducible, unsurpassable, and supreme source and norm of Christian theology. His fideism has more than an existential basis; it is rooted and anchored in the “supreme rationality that constitutes the content and object of faith.” For Bloesch, revelation can never be identified with any human, historical reality, even the Bible. We may call the Bible the Word of God because it has an absolute content with a relative form.
Bloesch’s program for theology begins with his diagnosis of the problem of much contemporary evangelicalism, namely rationalism. Rationalism represents for Bloesch a tragic misdirection. Relying upon Protestant scholastics such as Francis Turretin, Princeton theologians Hodge and Warfield, evangelical pioneers such as Carl F.H. Henry, and contemporary writers such as the popular theologians Wayne Grudem and R.C. Sproul, rationalists have dominated much of conservative evangelicalism.
Bloesch sees the natural fruit of rationalist seeds in a reliance upon “propositional” revelation. Again, for him, this represents “one of the banes of modern evangelicalism.” Such preoccupation with propositional theories of revelation treats human logic and knowledge as equated with that of God and the interpreter seeks to deduce true propositions from Scripture. Through processes of reasoning from first principles to conclusions, very much like Aristotelian philosophy, the theologian ends up cutting off God’s revelation in the Bible from the “living, dynamic being of God himself and his continual self-giving through Christ and in the Spirit.” For Bloesch this involved a victory of dogmatic affirmations over dramatic unfoldings, a reduction of revelation to verbal concstructs rather than personal encounter, and an increasing identification of the Bible with divine revelation rather than being seen as a conduit of revelation. In place of a theology of Word and Spirit, Bloesch sees rationalism opting for a synthesis with cultural wisdom and a preoccupation with timeless truth. He objects to the rationalistic tendency towards a univocal predication of God over the concepts of equivocity and analogy which Bloesch prefers.
Citing T.F. Torrance’s explanation of what he calls “the Latin heresy,” Bloesch reasons that when the deposit of faith came to be identified with a fixed formula (the regula fidei) that might be handed down from generation to generation, Scripture was treated as a fixed compendium of truths, a kind of Aristotelian first principles. This process, which Torrance sees beginning with Tertullian and coming to fruition in contemporary fundamentalism, “cuts off God’s revelation in the Bible from the living, dynamic being of God himself and his continual self-giving through Christ and in the Spirit.” The result of building ideas deduced from the Scriptures into a logico-deductive system of propositional truths yields propositional revelation. Carl Henry therefore becomes exhibit one for discovering the unity of Scripture in a “logical system of shared beliefs.”
If Bloesch rejects propositional revelation for its rationalism, he also makes short shrift of narrative theology. Associated with the Yale school (Frei, Lindbeck, Placher, Garrett Green), this postmodern approach elevates mythos over logos, pnumatology over christology, henotheism over monotheism, pluralism over both exclusivism and inclusivism. Whereas propositional approaches to truth emphasize declarative statements of “truth,” narrative theology expresses truth through the telling of a story, either in prose or poetic form. This way of thinking gives precedence to the experiential over the logical. Bloesch rejects the notion that God’s self-revelation in Christ can be reduced to either propositions or to narrations. For him a theology of Word and Spirit “seeks to transcend the cleavage between dogmatism and mysticism, logos and mythos. It perceives the unity of logos and mythos in the dramatic unfolding of the salvation history mirrored in the Bible.” Against narrative theology, Bloesch argues that the Bible presents truth claims as well as stories and that it yields “infallible information concerning God.” The Gospel is, after all, more than an inspiring story. Against propositional revelation, he denies that divine revelation is self-evident in the Bible nor is it immediately available to the mind.
In order to deal with the objective and subjective elements of reality, Bloesch proposes a creative synthesis which can only be sustained by means of a continual reliance upon a dialectical method and generous use of the concept of paradox. Calling his approach “fideistic revelationalism,” Bloesch comprehends his method as a “theology of Word and Spirit.” It counters both descriptive views of theology (e.g., Lindbeck) and constructive ones (e.g., Schubert Ogden) with prescriptive affirmations carrying true metaphysical importance.
Bloesch critiques rationalism for its tendency to hold to credo quia intelligo (I believe because I understand). Traditional fideism can be faulted for its credo quia absurdum est (I believe because it is absurd). Bloesch identifies his own view with what he considers the classical evangelical tradition: credo ut intelligam (I believe in order to understand). Revelation, for Bloesch, represents the personal, historical, objective-subjective communication of God which comes to us in human forms. It provides the irreducible, unsurpassable, and supreme source and norm of Christian theology. His fideism has more than an existential basis; it is rooted and anchored in the “supreme rationality that constitutes the content and object of faith.” For Bloesch, revelation can never be identified with any human, historical reality, even the Bible. We may call the Bible the Word of God because it has an absolute content with a relative form.
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