The Bottom Line

Chances are, it's been a while since you've studied the lives of any German Old Testament scholars. It's not an exercise I engage in very frequently. Recently, however, I read a book for class called A Brief History of Old Testament Criticism, by Mark S. Gignilliat. It doesn't sound like it would be the most enthralling, edge-of-your seat type of read. And it wasn't, I suppose, but it was very interesting and was much better than I had anticipated.

In each chapter of the book, Gignilliat discusses one specific scholar in the history of Old Testament criticism. Each of these chapters is divided into two sections. In the first, Gignilliat provides a brief biography of the scholar at hand, discussing his background, cultural and social context, education, and academic career. In the second section, he turns his attention to the innovations of that scholar in the field and the impact he has had on the study of the Old Testament.

One of the figures that Gignilliat discusses especially caught my attention. Gerhard von Rad lived in Germany from 1901 to 1971. Anyone who didn't his time in world history class writing notes to the pretty girl in the front corner knows that the first half of the 20th century was an awfully tumultuous one in Germany, and such turmoil can have an effect even upon a theology professor.

The thing about von Rad's life that piqued my interest is that, when the Nazi party began to gain power in Germany, he aligned himself with the Confessing Church rather than the German Christians. The Confessing Church was made of those German believers who refused to acquiesce to Hitler's barbaric program. Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Karl Barth were influential voices in this movement, and since I spent a lot of time last semester studying the life and thought of Bonhoeffer, the mention of von Rad's participation in the same church movement caught my eye.

The more I read von Rad's biography, the more impressed I was. He worked as a professor at the University of Jena, which was one of the primary institutions in which the Nazi party exerted influence over the academic life of Germany. It certainly would not have been a safe or comfortable place for a member of the Confessing Church to work--especially for one who claimed that the (Jewish!) Old Testament was valid Christian Scripture. But that's where von Rad was.

In 1944, von Rad was forced into military service, but in spite of this, he seems to have kept his hope in God. Gignilliat quotes a letter in which von Rad wrote, "I can only fall back on the very simple resignation of Paul Gerhardt's hymn, 'I have put my heart and mind int he heart and mind of God.' For, after all, that is unshakeable." The following year, von Rad was taken prisoner by the American forces, and he lived as a prisoner of war for the remainder of the conflict. During this time, he lectured to other prisoners on the book of Genesis, and he also "remained the minister as he encouraged young theologians in their faith, preached to the prisoners, and administered the sacraments." Gignilliat ends his treatment of von Rad's life by writing, "He never approached academic study of the Old Testament in isolation from his identity as a Christian and churchman."

It's a pretty inspiring story, isn't it? A committed Christian, confident that the Old Testament ought to remain Christian Scripture, standing up to Hitler and the Nazis, and preaching while a prisoner of war. I don't know that I would have the courage or the faith to act similarly in such circumstances. Von Rad's life is certainly something worth emulating.

But here's the thing: von Rad held a number of beliefs concerning theology and the nature of the biblical text to which I, as well as many American evangelicals, would object. Von Rad focused much of his study on the nature of the Hexateuch (Genesis through Joshua), and he employed a form-critical approach in order to try to understand the development of the canonical text. He believed that the Hexateuch is made up of independent traditions that were brought together over time as they were repeated and expounded upon. The final form of the Hexateuch was composed by the "Yahwist" during the time of Solomon (which is obviously different from the conservative position that Moses was the author of the first five books). Because of this approach, von Rad did not think that the text reports a historical account of events in Israel's history. Instead, it exhibits the development of Israel's faith--how they understood events rather than the facts of the events themselves.

I disagree with von Rad on a number of points, and many Christians would also take issue with his conclusions about the nature of the biblical text. Because of this, it could be easy to villainize him in the history of the church. One could point to his thought and yell, "Oh, that false teacher! He's responsible for the liberalization of Christian theology. It's because of him and his ilk that the church is in decline today." Many would possible be ready to condemn him to hell. And yet, I have to contend with von Rad's life--his faith and perseverance in the most trying of circumstances. Von Rad may have had theology and beliefs that I find questionable, but from what I can see, he also lived an incredibly faithful life dedicated to Christ.

A famous slogan in my church movement is "No creed but Christ." The idea is that a person's inclusion among the people of God is dependent on what he does with Christ. And that's it. That's the bottom line. And yet, it's so easy to use so many other criteria to build walls between each other. We whip out a list of required qualifications so that we can point to others and condemn them as heretics or "wolves in sheep's clothing."

Maybe that whole approach needs some serious rethinking. Is a person's position in Christ dependent on who they think wrote Deuteronomy? Is it based on whether he thinks the world was created in six days or a billion years? Is it about his beliefs on whether or not a person can fall from grace? Does it come down to millennial views?

There are a million debates regarding biblical and theological issues. And many of those debates are important issues to discuss. We want to hold fast to the truth of God's Word, and we want to understand God the best we can. But in the end, it comes down to Christ. Can a German professor who has surrendered to Jesus but has a somewhat 'liberal' view on the composition of the Old Testament still be my brother in Christ? I think so.

Can I have genuine Christian fellowship with someone rooting that the St. Louis Cardinals win the World Series?

That one's still up in the air.