October 1999 Newsletter
Association of Contemporary Church Historians
(Arbeitsgemeinschaft kirchlicher Zeitgeschichtler)
John S. Conway, Editor. University of British Columbia
Newsletter- October 1999- Vol.V, no. 10
Dear Friends,
Contents: 1) Conference Announcement, Penn State University
2) Boston College conference report
3) Forthcoming conference, Notre Dame,Ind.
4) Book reviews
a) C.O-Moore, H.P.Hughes
b) A-K Finke, Karl Barth in Grossbritannien 5) Journal article, Moses:
Justifying War 6) Book notes
7) In memoriam
1) The Pennsylvania State University is arranging a conference on the theme
of “Bonhoeffer’s Dilemma: The Ethics of Violence” to be held on October
28th-31,1999 at the Nittany Lion Inn, Penn State University Park, with a
very distinguished cast of speakers and the world premiere of a new opera on
Bonhoeffer. For more information, contact Chriss Schultz by E-mail:
ConferenceInfo1@cde.psu.edu
2) Boston College conference, Sept 17-18th 1999
The very useful meeting held at the prestigious Jesuit centre of Boston
College last month provided an opportunity for some 20 scholars to discuss
“Christian Life and Thought: confronting totalitarianism/authoritarianism”.
Meeting in plenary session for two whole days gave a chance for both younger
and older scholars to have an intensive and valuable exchange of views,
particularly across denominational lines. In fact, apart from one paper
which examined the remarkably favourable treatment of the Mormons in the
German Democratic Republic, the rest of the papers were concentrated on the
churches’ responses during the Nazi period. The reason is clear: for
historians, the archives are now fully accessible and are being well used;
for the theologians, the issues have been around long enough for cogent and
critical discussion. The same amount of excellent scholarship could hardly
have been mobilised for papers on the churches’ responses to Soviet
totalitarianism.
How did the churches react to Hitler’s rise to power in 1933? With
acclamation, enthusiasm and a readiness to believe that, in their hour of
need, God had granted Germany a new heroic leader. Such were the illusions
which accompanied the signing of the Concordat, or which led many
Protestants to seek to align their beliefs with Nazi ideology. We heard a
scathing account of how leading Catholic theologians like Karl Adam and
Michael Schmaus instrumentalised their theology for political purposes. Many
of the papers in fact drew attention to the dangers of lending theological
legitimisation to political regimes in this century. The dilemma for
theologians under pressure to adopt a position in times of political crisis
is clear. The German case stands as a warning, but the issue still deserves
further examination. By what criteria can a justified political theology be
assessed? This was one underlying theme of the conference.
A second theme related to the topic of resistance. To what extent can the
examples of non-conformist behaviour displayed by various church members be
seen as resistance? There was agreement that, from the point of view of the
Nazi authorities, the churches were particularly suspect and therefore all
deviant behaviour was treated as punishable treachery. But in fact, almost
all church members remained loyal to their concept of Germany, even when
they disobeyed some of the Nazi edicts, and certainly didn’t consider
themselves to be part of a resistance opposition, let alone seek to
overthrow the regime. Such were the cases of those Catholic priests in rural
areas who regarded Polish forced labourers as fellow Catholics to be treated
with sympathy rather than with racial antagonism, or those pastors who
prayed weekly for the Nazis’ victims by name from their pulpits. The
ambivalence of their stance is reflected in the continuing uncertainty of
how they should be categorized by historians.
A third unavoidable theme was the response of the churches to the
persecution and sufferings of the Jews. Even after sixty years the aura of
guilt still haunts this topic, whether it is the ongoing debate about Pius
XII or the motivations of pastors such as Dietrich Bonhoeffer. In the former
case, since the documents remain unavailable, the result can only be
speculative, and the danger of scapegoating is evident. In the latter case,
a valuable corrective was heard against too easy a presumption of
Bonhoeffer’s pro-Jewish stance. At the same time it was valuable to hear
about such righteous Gentiles as Corrie ten Boom or the Viennese journalist
Irene Harand. a hitherto almost unknown Catholic campaigner on behalf of the
persecuted Jews. As our Jewish colleague noted, Corrie ten Boom’s undoubted
supersessionism should not be equated with antisemitism, however
theologically incorrect it may now seem.
The witness of such figures was however too little regarded in post-war
Germany, where the lessons of the Church Struggle were interpreted in
different ways to suit the need of the future. For the most part the
conservative wing of the Confessing Church, self-satisfied with its stance
against Nazi heresies, was able to restore the church-political landscape to
its liking, and to suppress the more radical wing which looked for a more
complete church renewal.
The German churches’ responses to totalitarianism were and are significant
to more than just the Germans. The explanation for their failures has to be
found less in moral than in historical terms. To be sure they were indeed
intimidated and persecuted, but not entirely so. Rather their early
enthusiasm has to be ascribed to the lack of preparation, theological as
well as political, for such an onslaught. And this in turn was largely due
to the confusion and uncertainty caused by the disasters of the first world
war. The remainder of this century can, in fact, be seen as the working out
of the dilemmas and challenges of that time, many of which still remain
unresolved.
3) Upcoming Event: International Symposium on “Military Chaplains in their
Context”, University of Notre Dame, South Bend, Indiana, 17-18 March 2000.
There will be a keynote address and a small number of papers by invited
presenters. Anyone interested in the role of military chaplains from late
antiquity to the present is welcome to attend and take part in the
discussions.
For more information, contact Doris Bergen, Department of History,
University of Notre Dame, IN 46556. Tel: 219-631-7189
E-mail: Doris.L.Bergen.4@nd.edu
3a) Book review: Christopher Oldstone-Moore, Hugh Price Hughes. Founder of a
new Methodism, Conscience of a new Nonconformity. Cardiff: University of
Wales Press 1999 393pp.
Hugh Price Hughes was an eminent late Victorian Methodist, now forgotten. In
his heyday he was known as a spell-binding preacher and an active social
reformer. Christopher Oldstone-Moore’s newly-published and laudable
biography seeks to make him known to today’s audience, because he
represented a force for good which is no longer so vital in British
religious life, but which deserves to be remembered.
A century after John Wesley’s death, the Methodists had grown by leaps and
bounds to become a truly national entity. But they still suffered from
questions of identity. Disdainfully dismissed by supporters of the
established Church of England as “nonconformists”, Methodists saw themselves
as the champions of religious freedom from state control. But they still
felt discriminated against, on both social and religious grounds. Or again,
their fervour and devotion was often highly internalized. This quest for
personal salvation eclipsed any concern for the political and social welfare
of their fellow citizens. All this Hugh Price Hughes sought to change.
He made it his mission to convince his followers that nonconformity should
be seen as a positive virtue. Nonconformists enjoyed opportunities for
witness not given to the established church. They could embark on campaigns
for social and personal improvement which the Church of England, so long
embroiled with the ruling classes, could never undertake. As a young
minister, he was quickly involved with the temperance movement. But he came
to realise that campaigning against the “demon drink” was not just a matter
of personal moral righteousness. Rather it needed to be part of a wider
concern for social reconstruction.
Before the days of the Labour Party or of radio and television, and with
only the initial stages of trades unionism, the socially-minded churches
were the only means to arouse public concern for good causes. The memory of
the anti-slavery campaign was ever-present. But Hughes rightly saw that
consciences needed to be aroused and kept alert. This was what nonconformity
was called to do. In many ways he himself personified this new stance,
throwing himself into all sorts of struggles against social evils and
injustices.
At the same time he brought his intense vitality and institutional
leadership (what he called Christian audacity) to the task of refashioning
Methodism for the tasks ahead. The 1880s were a time of considerable
optimism and growth. Hughes wanted Methodists to outgrow their reputation of
being earnest, if narrow-minded, enthusiasts, and did much to promote the
denomination’s theological capacities. His principal achievement in
propagating his vision of a socialistic and democratic Christianity was to
found and edit a new Methodist newspaper to give impetus to the moral
reconstruction of the nation along evangelical lines. This venture copied
the secular press in being lively, personal, direct and topical, and soon
had a large readership.
This idealistic programme demanded commitment. Hughes and his wife both
fully exemplified this requirement. But, in the long run, this stance was
subject to erosion from two directions: many conservative Methodists were
only partly convinced of this social gospel, and preferred the earlier
emphasis on individual holiness. On the other side, social radicals
persuaded themselves that they could do good without having to subscribe to
any Christian doctrine. But, in the short run, the impact was undoubted,
especially in the ranks of the newly-founded Labour Party, which was rightly
categorized as “owing more to Methodism than to Marx”.
Oldstone-Moore ably outlines the ecclesiastical and political struggles in
which Hughes was involved. He admits that Hughes was an impassioned,
sometimes impulsive, man given to rhetorical excess. But the need for moral
regeneration made anything less than the highest standard of public
behaviour a betrayal. His watchword was: what was morally wrong cannot be
politically right. So compromises came with difficulty. His insistent
earnestness was an example to many But it took its toll in constant
frustration and even embitterment. And it is doubtful that the level of
evangelical, political and philanthropic enthusiasm which Hughes demanded of
his followers could have been maintained on a continuing basis.
The 1890s were in any case difficult years. The Irish Home Rule bill was
defeated. Mr Gladstone resigned. His successor was an aristocratic gambling
horse race owner. And shortly afterwards the conservatives returned to
power, from whom no advances towards righteousness could be expected. And
even though Hughes’ pre-eminence was recognised by his election as President
of the Church and the Free Church Association, the strain of his unceasing
efforts proved too much. He died of a stroke at the age of 55.
His optimistic preaching of the social gospel had been inspiring. In his
day, as Wesley had done before him, he convinced many thousands that God was
working out a new salvation in the world. But, with the onset of the first
world war, such idealisms seemed sadly out of place. In subsequent years the
appeal for building a righteous nation faded away, heralding the decline of
Methodism and other churches throughout this century.
JSC
3b) Anne-Kathrin Finke,Karl Barth in Grossbritannien: Rezeption und
Wirkungsgeschichte. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag 1995 ISBN
3-7887-1521-9, xiv+354 pp.
In this book, the reworked version of her thesis (KiHo Berlin 1993),
Anne-Kathrin Finke has two aims. The first is to offer a detailed discussion
of the influence and reception of the theology of Karl Barth in Great
Britain (or, more precisely) in England and Scotland), proceeding both
chronologically and critically. The second is to offer insights into the
different approaches to “doing theology” in Britain and Germany. The first
aim should be understood as primary. Finke’s work draws upon a wide range of
theological discussions of Barth’s work to provide what she hopes will be
“an adequate description of the development in British discussions of Barth”
(p.11) She demonstrates, in contrast to the conclusions drawn by Richard
H.Roberts, that British discussions of Barth’s theology have been, not
one-sided, but fundamental, fair and fruitful.
Finke structures her work largely chronologically. Writing for a German
audience and assuming (probably rightly) that most German readers will need
an introduction to British theological thought, she opens with a brief
discussion of the history of theology in England and Scotland in the
nineteenth and twentieth centuries, concluding that British theology in the
1920s was still dominated by liberalism and influenced by German liberal
theology. In his introduction, Christoph Gestrich hopes that Finke’s
introductory chapter might be of use also to British readers, but both
British and German readers would be well advised to seek additional
background information elsewhere. The section on the Reformation in England
and Scotland contains some strange omissions (for instance, there is no
mention of the Prayer Books of either 1552 or 1559, the latter noted for
drawing together different theological interpretations and thus of some
importance, one would think, to Finke’s argument). She gives the impression
that England and Scotland were entirely separate kingdoms until the
beginning of the eighteenth century. Her discussion of the Church in the
nineteenth century would have benefited from reference to general
discussions other than Vidler’s The Church in an Age of Revolution (perhaps
Owen Chadwick’s The Victorian Church). On Lux Mundi there is now a detailed
discussion by Ulrike Link-Wieczorek (however this was not available to
Finke). And while the opening chapters introduce the German reader to
important aspects of English and Scottish theology, the English-speaking
reader unversed in German (theological) history may well be left wondering
in what way German theology, not to mention the situation in Germany in the
1920s, differed from that in England. What was the crisis that produced
Barth’s so-called “crisis theology”? The reader must be in a position to
know this, for Finke will not tell her.
Finke proceeds to discuss the theological work of Peter Taylor Forsyth. The
similarities between Forsyth’s theology and that of Barth, observed by early
British commentators such as John McConnochie and noted by Barth himself,
demonstrate that a “barthian” or dialectic theology can emerge from a
totally different context from that of post-First World War Germany. Finke
does not elaborate on the differences between the theologies of Forsyth and
Barth, and since she admits that Forsyth’s theology cannot be said to have
prepared the way for Barth’s, the impact of Forsyth’s work remains somewhat
unclear.
The remainder of Finke’s work is devoted to a discussion of the reception of
Barth’s theology in Britain. She identifies four phases in this reception,
of which the first is the impact made by Barth’s early theology from 1924 to
1936, the year in which George Thomas Thomson’s translation of the first
half-volume of the Church Dogmatics was published. From the beginning,
Barth’s rejection of natural theology was a primary concern – and point of
criticism – for British theologians; this early focus remained central in
the continuing discussions of his theology. In this period, English and
Scottish considerations of Barth’s theology take a similar line; the primary
work is that of Hugh Ross Mackintosh and John McConnochie. The second phase,
1936-1945, was the period in which Barth had most personal contact with
British theologians. It was also the time when his political profile as an
opponent of the Nazi regime in Germany was highest. This juxtaposition was
not without its complications, for, as Finke makes clear, theologians and
churchmen (for instance Bishop George Bell) who applauded Barth for his
opposition to Hitler were often unable to share his theological concerns.
Nevertheless, Finke concludes, “despite their semi-Pelagianism, natural
theology, moralism and optimism,” Barth found the British very attractive;
so much so, indeed, that he wrote to Bell in 1946: “Were I not Swiss, I
would choose to be British” (p.177).
It was only after the Second World War, in what Finke identifies as the
third phase of the reception of Barth’s theology, that this came to be
appreciated in its entirety. Barth’s Church Dogmatics was translated in its
entirety between 1956 and 1977, and thus became accessible to non-German
readers. Finke traces the increasing difference between Scottish and English
understandings of Barth in the post-war years, and especially the growing
influence of Thomas Forsyth Torrance, whose extremely individual
interpretation of Barth’s theology affected generations of systematic
theologians in Scotland. Despite the importance of this achievement (an
entire chapter is dedicated to Torrance), Finke notes that it is not always
easy to distinguish between Torrance and Barth’s interests; however, she
believes that Torrance’s interpretation of Barth still informs British
theological debates about Barth today (p.245). In the final phase, the 1970s
and (early) 1980s, British – and perhaps especially English – theologians
began to take seriously John Baillie’s plea that “there can be no hopeful
forward advance beyond (Barth’s) teachings . . if we attempt to go round it
instead of through it” (p.202).
Finke’s study offers a consideration of a wide range of theologians and
theological works. Her “person-centred” approach, probably the only approach
possible given the extent of her material, leads sometime to some odd
chronological juxtapositions. Thus, Barmen (1934) is discussed in the
chapter dealing with 1936-1945, and the beginnings of the ecumenical
movement in the 1930s appear in the post-war chapter. Sometimes her view of
cause and effect seems a little over-simplified: can there really be “no
doubt” that interest in Barth “accounts for the founding of the Study for
the Study of Theology” (p.197)?
Taken as a whole this book offers a resource which summarises who in Britain
wrote what about Barth when. Moreover the wide range of topics discussed in
the reception of Barth’s theology suggests that Finke could well be right to
claim (against the perhaps characteristic modesty of many British
theologians themselves!) that the British reception of Barth offers an
adequate and considered understanding of Barth’s theology, especially given
that it is, as Finke conceded, impossible to define who or what is “the
whole Barth”. Her claim might however, have been further substantiated had
she at some point defined what she understands to be an adequate
understanding of Barth’s theology. As it is, this issue can only be decided
by those more versed in Barth’s theology than I.
If”the whole Barth” is impossible to characterise, so too is “German
theology”. But however it may be defined, it would be risky to assert that
it is exclusively Barthian. Finke seems not to have taken this into account
and it is for this reason that, in my view, her book cannot claim to be a
comparative study of British and German theological mentalities. Barth has a
reception history in Germany just as he has in Britain; a comparison of
German and British reactions to Barth might offer some real insights into
the different ways of “doing theology” to be found in the different
contexts. Finke’s book offers a good resource for such a project, but her
achievement is another. She has produced a useful and detailed survey which
indicates that the impact of Barth’s theology on British theological
thinking has been both broader and deeper than has previously been
appreciated.
Charlotte Methuen, Ruhr-Universitat, Bochum
4) Journal Article:
John A.Moses, Justifying War as the Will of God: German theology on the eve
of the first world war. in Colloquium: The Australian and New Zealand
Theological Review, Vol 31, no 1, May 1999, p3-20.
Because this journal may well not be widely available beyond its homelands,
John Moses’ contribution to the most recent issue deserves mention. He seeks
to assess the part played by theologians and church leaders to the climate
of excessive nationalism, militarism and racism which has been frequently
seen as the cause of Germany’s disastrous history during this century.
Whereas critics of this Sonderweg view of secular German history have
claimed that other “great powers” did not behave too differently, so that
there is only a factor of difference of scale, Moses shows that as far as
the theologians goes, the Germans played a considerable role in maintaining
the idea of their spiritual separateness because they had received a special
calling from God and consequently a world mission unlike any other country.
From 1870 onwards there was a remarkable rise of national Protestantism and
its identification of the nation with the will of Almighty God, or the
advocacy of the idea that God had chosen Germany to be His agent on earth,
as His instrument in the “History of Salvation”.
This conflation of sacred and secular history should not be ignored by even
the most materialist of historians. It explains why religion came to endorse
limitless violence, how war was prioritized, and how German national
aggrandisement came to have spiritual significance. Alas, this view survived
the shock of the 1918 defeat, and came in handy for Hitler’s propagandists.
We even heard overtones about God’s hand guiding Germany’s destiny in 1989.
However, after the impact of the Holocaust’s revelations, the use of
national Protestantism as a tenable paradigm for educated Germans has been
effectively discredited. The religious Sonderweg has therefore been
abandoned, but what is to follow remains to be seen.
JSC
6) In Memoriam
We learn with sadness of the death of Sabine Leibholz, the twin sister of
Dietrich Bonhoeffer. She herself was also a victim of the Nazis when she and
her husband were forced to leave Germany in 1938, and seek refuge in Oxford.
Her husband subsequently returned to have a distinguished career in the
German Supreme Court. Sabine was the last of this generation of Bonhoeffers,
and took a lively interest in the activities over the years designed to
commemorate her brother.
With best wishes
John Conway
jconway@interchange.ubc.ca