Missions as a Quest for Justice
by Richard Greydanus
My Papers
My first bit of commentary is a general one directed at the beginning of Chapter 10. I should add that my training in the study of history predisposes me to a stance of dissent from the generally held opinion. The term paradigm was popularized by Thomas Kuhn a little less than a half a century ago. Certainly we are in a paradigm shift. But what gives us the confidence to assume we are in a shift comparable to that from the medieval to modern period? Are we sure the Enlightenment is over? A paradigm shift is usually seen at a couple of centuries remove. I suspect that our children’s children’s children will judge us more modern than we think we are—just as historians are presently rediscovering a Renaissance much more medieval than was previously thought. It’s a matter of distance and perspective.
Bosch begins the section titled “Mission as the Quest for Justice” with a discussion of the legacy of history. The concern for social justice of the prophets is mentioned as well as the experience of the Early Church as a counter-cultural movement. His quick summary of the next millennia or so from Constantine to the Reformation leaves much to be desired—and I say this as a Protestant. Perhaps most confusingly, Calvin is largely exonerated from the charge of having negative views of “the world” while Augustine, Aquinas, and Luther are found in want. The close relationship, however, between Calvinism and the Enlightenment is entirely absent from the narrative—and I say this as a Calvinist. The ethos of the Enlightenment era for Bosch is one of a privatization of faith which leaves the church powerless to effect social justice. The first hints that the church is breaking out of this stranglehold comes in 1926.
Drawing on Reinhold Niebuhr’s distinction between rational justice and religious love, and within the later between mystical and prophetic emphases, Bosch sets up categories in order to decrypt the discussion around the proper form of missions in the twentieth century. In his conception, the religious ethic of love aims at leavening the pursuit of justice in order to prevent it from becoming purely political. In my estimation, Niebuhr’s categories are short-sighted and creates problems for Bosch as he tries to oppose the social gospel, on the one hand, and fundamentalism, on the other. Which is more important? Obviously, love in this depiction. But what is love? Both extremes have a claim to it. I’d prefer to say tensions arise when we pursue simultaneously God’s justice and God’s peace (or rest—pace St. Augustine), both of which are encompassed within God’s love.
Bosch spends much of the remainder of the section describing the emergence of Evangelical Christianity out of a period of fundamentalism, during which missions was largely reduced to the preaching of the Gospel, to reappropriate social justice as a parallel concern. I am reminded at this point of a humorous picture of an elderly Anglican missionary and his wife, who plays an organ in the background; they both sing English hymns before a crowd of confused African tribesmen—though I cannot remember where the picture came from. My point: a form of missions which engages the whole of life leads into a questions of contextualization or enculturation; missions must to culturally relevant in order to engage the whole of life. Bosch argues missions should not simply be understood as saving souls for God’s Kingdom in the next life. Rather, he draws an anticipatory eschatological distinction between the already and the not yet: the Kingdom is already here, but not yet in its fullness. Missions, therefore, must embrace of whole of life in anticipation of that fullness. In conclusion, he notes a convergence of similar convictions around the Christian world—Evangelical Protestant, Roman Catholic, and Eastern Orthodox.
My Papers
My first bit of commentary is a general one directed at the beginning of Chapter 10. I should add that my training in the study of history predisposes me to a stance of dissent from the generally held opinion. The term paradigm was popularized by Thomas Kuhn a little less than a half a century ago. Certainly we are in a paradigm shift. But what gives us the confidence to assume we are in a shift comparable to that from the medieval to modern period? Are we sure the Enlightenment is over? A paradigm shift is usually seen at a couple of centuries remove. I suspect that our children’s children’s children will judge us more modern than we think we are—just as historians are presently rediscovering a Renaissance much more medieval than was previously thought. It’s a matter of distance and perspective.
Bosch begins the section titled “Mission as the Quest for Justice” with a discussion of the legacy of history. The concern for social justice of the prophets is mentioned as well as the experience of the Early Church as a counter-cultural movement. His quick summary of the next millennia or so from Constantine to the Reformation leaves much to be desired—and I say this as a Protestant. Perhaps most confusingly, Calvin is largely exonerated from the charge of having negative views of “the world” while Augustine, Aquinas, and Luther are found in want. The close relationship, however, between Calvinism and the Enlightenment is entirely absent from the narrative—and I say this as a Calvinist. The ethos of the Enlightenment era for Bosch is one of a privatization of faith which leaves the church powerless to effect social justice. The first hints that the church is breaking out of this stranglehold comes in 1926.
Drawing on Reinhold Niebuhr’s distinction between rational justice and religious love, and within the later between mystical and prophetic emphases, Bosch sets up categories in order to decrypt the discussion around the proper form of missions in the twentieth century. In his conception, the religious ethic of love aims at leavening the pursuit of justice in order to prevent it from becoming purely political. In my estimation, Niebuhr’s categories are short-sighted and creates problems for Bosch as he tries to oppose the social gospel, on the one hand, and fundamentalism, on the other. Which is more important? Obviously, love in this depiction. But what is love? Both extremes have a claim to it. I’d prefer to say tensions arise when we pursue simultaneously God’s justice and God’s peace (or rest—pace St. Augustine), both of which are encompassed within God’s love.
Bosch spends much of the remainder of the section describing the emergence of Evangelical Christianity out of a period of fundamentalism, during which missions was largely reduced to the preaching of the Gospel, to reappropriate social justice as a parallel concern. I am reminded at this point of a humorous picture of an elderly Anglican missionary and his wife, who plays an organ in the background; they both sing English hymns before a crowd of confused African tribesmen—though I cannot remember where the picture came from. My point: a form of missions which engages the whole of life leads into a questions of contextualization or enculturation; missions must to culturally relevant in order to engage the whole of life. Bosch argues missions should not simply be understood as saving souls for God’s Kingdom in the next life. Rather, he draws an anticipatory eschatological distinction between the already and the not yet: the Kingdom is already here, but not yet in its fullness. Missions, therefore, must embrace of whole of life in anticipation of that fullness. In conclusion, he notes a convergence of similar convictions around the Christian world—Evangelical Protestant, Roman Catholic, and Eastern Orthodox.
posted by Richard | 8:17 PM
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