Introduction to Christianity
(1968)
Joseph Ratzinger
(Ignatius, 2004)
380 pp. First reading.
Posted 19 April
2006.
In the immediate wake of Cardinal Ratzinger's election to the papacy in
April 2005, he suddenly became one of the best-selling authors in the
world, even displacing, for a time, Harry Potter at the top of the
charts. Many of those browsing his books settled, I suspect,
on Introduction to
Christianity
on the grounds that it sounded invitingly friendly. Alas for
them! The book was originally published in Germany in 1968
and
Ratzinger, then a young academic, makes blessed few concessions to his
reader. While it is a far cry from being the most abstruse
academic prose, it is certainly more difficult than most of
his
subsequent books. Not only is it an ambitious book of
theology
and intellectual history, but I'm afraid he is often guilty of saying
too much to say too little. I imagine that many of the copies
purchased in the book-buying frenzy that followed the election are
languishing unread. And that is a shame.
I finished my copy, however. The book is an attempt to
restate
the Apostle's Creed, unpacking the meaning of this foundational text in
language that has a greater contemporary resonance than the Creed
itself. The contemporaneity has already faded somewhat - the
need
to bring Marx, Bultmann, and de Chardin into the discussion now seems
less pressing than it must have at the time - but the overall project
is admirable. Like the Creed itself, the book takes up, in
sequence, the doctrines pertaining to the Father, the Son, and the
Spirit.
The book opens, however, with an essay on belief per se
in the modern world, and then on Christian belief in
particular.
What is belief? He argues, correctly in my view, that the
problem
of belief is not really a specifically religious problem; some kind of
faith or belief is unavoidable. He develops the idea of
belief as
"standing firm and understanding". Belief is a way of taking
a
stand in the face of reality, a way of interpreting experience - or, in
a venerable theological formulation, it is "a way of seeing".
Belief is foundational, and not reducible (though certainly related) to
practical knowledge. It is something demanded of everyone.
But in
order for this "standing firm" to be truly firm, he argues, the belief
cannot be something we make up ourselves, but must, if it is to have
any strength and power, be received.
Thus the problem of belief opens up onto history, society, and --
potentially -- revelation.
But what does it mean to be a Christian today? Is it just a way of
being eccentric or intellectually irresponsible? Several obstacles to
Christian belief are discussed, such as the offense of its exclusive
truth claims, or the belief that it is "out-of-date". The
superficial form of this latter obstacle stresses its antiquity and
conservatism; the honourable form contends that Christian doctrine has
been superseded by advances in knowledge, and is simply
untenable. In answer to this challenge, Ratzinger charts a
miniature intellectual history of the West's understanding of truth,
from the ancient understanding of truth as being, to the early modern
idea of truth as facts, to the late modern concept of truth as making.
As there are irreducible metaphysical and historical elements in
Christian belief, it seems less secure to the modern mind than it once
did. Whereas the ancients believed that the mind could penetrate to
being as such, modernity contented itself with knowledge of history and
science, but now as the objectivity even of facts comes into doubt, the
domain of true knowledge shrinks to those things of our own making.
Thus the modern world beholds the ascendency of techne,
and the contemplation of being, which in the ancient world was the
highest human activity, seems to us useless. This is a very
interesting argument, and deserves more attention than I can give it
here.
But let's return to the general question of the significance of
Christian belief. Ratzinger tries to sketch the basic
orientation
toward reality natural to the Christian faith. There is, for
instance, its commitment to the primacy of the invisible over the
immediately evident. It asserts that thought and the whole world of the
mind are not an accidental by-product of matter, but that mind precedes
matter, that the world is intelligible because it is conceived by
the logos,
and that our
mind may comprehend reality because it, too, shares in this fundamental
rationality. Christianity is communal and historical, teaching that
each person can only truly understand themselves as a contextualized
creature; it therefore opposes ahistorical or radically individualistic
interpretations of human life. It overturns the standards of
power and weakness, identifying the weakest things with the strongest.
It proclaims a world of prodigality and excess, of a power that
oversteps the rational boundaries out of love. I have already alluded
to its privileging of receiving over making, for it places a gift at
the center of human existence. These, of course, are not
specific
doctrines, but they are elements of the foundational attitude that will
find Christian belief reasonable.
After that prelude, he moves to the formal discussion of the Apostle's
Creed. The Creed itself dates from the second and third
centuries, and was originally used in a question and answer format
during the baptismal liturgy ("Do you believe...?", "I
believe..."). It is still used in that way today.
It
existed with minor variations throughout the West until the reign of
Charlemagne, when it was standardized throughout the Church.
It
was, in fact, used by Charlemagne as a means to imperial unity, which
only underscores Ratzinger's point that belief may not be legitimately
abstracted from the earthy tangle of history.
Trinitarian doctrine is rooted, not in philosophy, but in
history. It is an attempt to harmonize a number of seemingly
incompatible beliefs: that God is in some sense the Being spoken of by
the philosophers, that God revealed himself in a particularly direct
way in Jesus of Nazareth, and that there is nevertheless only one
God! The doctrine implies a commitment to the view that
history
reveals God as he is, rather than just revealing our variable modes of
experiencing God. Ratzinger suggests that the Trinity is a
kind
of banner announcing the inscrutability of God, a "discouraging gesture
pointing over to unchartable territory."
The doctrine of God the Father is inherited in large measure from
classical philosophy. Monotheism is a renunciaton of the
deification of earthly political powers, or of nature, or of the myriad
gods of the ancient world. Yet while the God of the
philosophers
was mighty and transcendent, Christianity teaches that he is also
personal. They said that he was mind and thought, but the
Church
teaches that he is also love. They said that he existed in
sovereign contemplation of goodness and truth, which was his very self,
but the doctrine of the Trinity teaches that he is also inherently
relational. The Creed calls God "Father Almighty", and in
this
title summarizes this understanding of God, the supremely powerful
being who is also tender and loving. The Father is also
Creator,
who first thinks the world, and then gives it true being.
Ratzinger remarks how this doctrine threads a middle way between
materialism and idealism.
Concerning the second person of the Trinity, he argues first that the
doctrine of the divinity of Christ owes nothing to Greek ideas about
divine men, nor even to the Virgin birth, but rests on statements of
Jesus in the Gospels. The Virgin birth is not meant to suggest that
Jesus was some kind of God-man hybrid, for the doctrine asserts that he
was fully both, nor is it stating that at the birth of Jesus a new God
-- God the Son -- came into being, for God the Son existed from
eternity. Instead, the Virgin birth is important because it emphasizes
that salvation is a gift. He also points out the interesting
fact
that all of the statements about Jesus in the Creed are statements
about events, rather than about his teaching. This is an
implicit
acknowledgment that the person and the teaching of Jesus are one and
the same:
Jesus did not leave
behind him
(again, as the faith expressed in the Creed understood it) a body of
teaching that could be separated from his ‘I’, as
one can
collect and evaluate the ideas of great thinkers without going into the
personalities of the thinkers themselves. The Creed offers no
teachings of Jesus; evidently no one even conceived the – to
us
– obvious idea of attempting anything like this.
This same unity of person and purpose are captured succinctly in the
very title "Jesus Christ".
The final section of the Creed contains the doctrines on the Holy
Spirit and the Church. These are essentially statements about
the
same thing, for the Spirit is understood as God in the world. The
Paraclete is 'the one who comes alongside', and the doctrine of the
Holy Spirit unites metaphysical speculation and history. The life of
the Spirit in the Church is sacramental: "the communion of saints"
refers to the Eucharistic community of worship, and "the forgiveness of
sins" to the sacraments of baptism and penance. The ultimate
transformation wrought by the Spirit is resurrection and life.
And with that, the book ends abruptly. This summary does the
same.
[Catholicism unites philosophy and religion in an unprecedented way]
“One need only point to the fact that ancient philosophy
embraced
both philosophical atheists (Epicurus, Lucretius, et al.) and
philosophical monotheists (Plato, Aristotle, Plotinus), and that both
groups were by religion polytheists – a state of affairs
that…is seldom given sufficient attention. It is
only
against this background that one can see clearly the revolutionary
nature of the Christian attitude, in which philosophical and religious
orientation become identical.”
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