"Forgetting" the Reformation
A spiritual exercise I intentionally
practice every few years involves “forgetting” what I think I know about God,
faith, and faithful living. Of course, I
don’t really “forget” these things but I do my best to identify and bracket
these things and try to read the Bible again with fresh eyes and clear
heart. It is always good to do this with
other similarly committed believers. You
can hold each other accountable, help us identify each other’s blind spots, and
share the hope of growth and new life.
In North America most of us are shaped
by the western tradition of thought and life.
This tradition has its great strengths, to be sure. But it has blind spots as well, debilitating
blind spots. We do well to focus on
these blind spots as exercises in “forgetting” to open ourselves to a fresh
reading and reflection on scripture.
Five of the central planks of theology
done in the western tradition that negatively impact faithful Christian life
and thought are its view of God, its view of reality, its view of a reason, its
view of a Christian life, and its view of money. To “forget” these influences involves bidding
adieu to Aristotle, Plato, the
Enlightenment, the Reformation, and Adam Smith.
Today we say good-bye to Plato.
“FORGETTING”
the Reformation
The Reformation movement of the 16th
century initiated by Martin Luther’s attempt to reform a corrupt Roman Catholic
Church resulted in many far-reaching consequences for the western world. For our purposes I intend to focus on only
one, one we need to “forget” for our spiritual well-being.
We don’t need to set aside the Reformation
the way we did Aristotle, Plato, and the Enlightenment. Each of the latter distorted our experience
and understanding of Christian faith.
The Reformation, however, reopened the Christian faith, the genuine
gospel, for many who had never really heard it through the Roman Catholic Church. Luther’s movement exploded and rapidly
morphed into the formation of a new church rather than a reform movement in the
Catholic church. Much good came from
this movement, much we would be much the poorer for not having.
Martin Luther, an Augustinian monk,
had never heard the gospel in all his time in the church. Tormented by his sin and sense of God’s
displeasure over it, the overriding question for Luther (and for multitudes in
his time) was “Where can I find a gracious God?” His rediscovery of the saving free grace of
God spread the wildfire across Europe and over into the British Isles. The Spirit of God moved with new and fresh
power reshaping the face of the church and the world in his wake. Gratitude for this work of the Spirit and the
men and women God used to effect it has to be our first response to this
remarkable movement.
Still, every movement has it time and
place. We no longer live in late
Medieval Europe dominated by a corrupt Catholic Church (well, at least it doesn’t
dominate the whole populace any more) who used the fear of an angry God to
control the people. The situation the
Reformation emerged from and to counter is no longer our situation. Rediscovery of the gospel of the free grace
of God is the Reformation’s permanent gift to the church in its journey through
history.
The gospel of the free grace of God is
indeed an answer to the tender conscience of anyone beset by a sense of having
failed God and fearing his punishment for these failures. The fearful sinner is not the only issue the
gospel, God’s all-embracing good news touches on however.
In our age the question hovering over
us is not “Where can I find a gracious God?” but “Where can I find a gracious
neighbor?” This is not a question about individual
standing before God but about the church.
And indeed the good news of the gospel is that through Jesus Christ and
his life, ministry, death, and resurrection God has raised up a people who
demonstrate the gracious mercy and peace of God and through whom he is blessing
the world. The gospel tells us God is “the”
gracious neighbor and his people “gracious neighbors” in a broken and hostile
world. This is an extension of the
Reformation insight that takes us beyond the original issue that sparked it
off.
In addition to moving the focus of the
gospel beyond the individual to the community, our setting moves us from the
question of guilt (Luther’s problem) to a different concern in our time: shame.
We suffer today in the western world more from a sense of shame (“we are
wrong”) than guilt (we have done wrong).
The gospel of God’s free grace enables us to respond to this present
concern by articulating it in terms of God’s original intent for us.
Created to be God’s image-bears, his royal
representatives who protect and nurture the creation, we rebelled and went our
own way. We are broken people as well as
those who break faith with God and each other.
The gospel not only addresses our failures, it also addresses our sense
of being failures. The shame of our
brokenness is met and surpassed by the gospel’s announcement that God’s deepest
desire is to reclaim us (dealing with our failures) and restore us
to our primal dignity and original vocation. In the 16th century the former was
the issue and needed to be addresses – and was!
Rightly so.
But in a new time such as our own, the
gospel needs to flex its muscle and speak to the shame that seems to be the
issue of our day. To continue to require
the gospel be articulated in the terms set by the 16th century
rather than those of this day is a straightjacket we cannot afford to saddle
ourselves with.
The Reformation, a good and necessary
response to its day and dynamics, has, as we have seen, not worn well. It’s focus on the individual’s relation to
God has blinded us to the profound and urgent need to see God’s work in terms
of his corporate people, the church and the “gracious neighbors” we need to be.
Nor does it, in its 16th century dress, enable us to compellingly and
effectively address the need and dynamics of our day. There is still one further failing that we
need to look at here.
None of the main reformers (Luther, Calvin,
Zwingli) or their movements raised any fundamental questions about the propriety
of the church’s being subservient to or a functionary within the sphere of a
government’s national interest. And the
United States and the west at large has suffered grievously from this
failure. That the church in America has
not been able to maintain its own critical distance and voice from the US
government as well as the “Americanism” that the gospel has morphed it in this
land, is perhaps “the” single most damaging heresy that has beset us here. And the Reformation of the 16th
century is of little or no help to us on this most vital matter.
Wistfully perhaps, gratefully certainly, we
must bid this great 16th century movement adieu. Retaining its permanent gains as one powerful
aspect of the biblical gospel, we must reclaim this gospel’s fullness (as noted
above) to address the needs and dynamics of this day. If this entails a certain critique of today’s
use of the 16th century Reformation paradigm (not it’s 16th
century use) as definitive of the gospel, then so be it. It is in this sense and for the reasons
outlined above that I hope we can “forget” the Reformation.
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