1Beyond Belief
Paulās Dynamic Faith Language
I believe in, credo in, means that I am not alone. In our glory and in our misery we men are not alone. God comes to meet us and as our Lord and Master. He comes to our aid. . . . One way or other, I am in all circumstances in company with Him. . . . Of ourselves we cannot achieve, have not achieved, and shall not achieve a togetherness with Him; that we have not deserved that He should be our God, have no power of disposal and no rights over Him, but that with unowed kindness, in the freedom of His majesty, He resolved of His own self to be manās God, our God.
āKarl Barth, Dogmatics in Outline
To have faith is to be open, vulnerable. It is also to wince and to withdraw. For this reason, faithfulness has a plodding quality. It is more stick-to-itiveness than it is power and glory. The key to faith is persistence. In the face of sinābe it outright evil or simple distractionāit is very difficult to persevere in faith. In the presence of temptationābe it desire or disasterāit is difficult to remain faithful. Yet, for the religious Jew, there is only teshuvah, repentance or re-turning, as the compass needle always returns toward the north.
āDavid Blumenthal, āThe Place of Faith and Grace in Judaismā
In St. Augustineās sermon on John 20, in view of the resurrection appearances of Jesus to his disciples, he addresses the obvious problem of a human (risen) Jesus passing through a wall to present himself to his disciples. How is this possible? Augustine made appeal to the uniqueness of Jesus even before his death and resurrection (whereby, for example, he could walk on water, though he had normal body weight). But he finishes his thought with a striking notion: āWhere reason fails, faith builds up.ā1 Augustine himself was far from being opposed to reason,2 but there has admittedly been a problematic tension in the history of Christianity between faith and reason. There is, of course, very good reason why the term āfaithā has become a distinctively Christian word. After all, the word Ļį½·ĻĻĪ¹Ļ, the Greek word often translated āfaith,ā is found hundreds of times in the New Testament (and over thirty-five times in Romans alone). Important words like āfaith,ā though, when overused, tend to get flattened out and have meanings and connotations attributed to it that do not go back to the faith language of Scripture, or do not represent the depth and richness of that word (group). There are three problematic trends in the way Christians (and others) use faith language in religious ways.
Faith as Opinion
A few years ago, I taught a course that introduced the basics of Christianity to first-year college students. Not long after day one, students began debating issues like the historical reliability of the Gospels and the ability to prove the resurrection or divinity of Jesus. I was particularly taken aback when a student tried to end a debate by saying, āI donāt care about proving what I believe. I believe it by faith, and that should be enough.ā As the course went on, I began to notice a trend whereby students used the language of faith in a way someone would use the word āopinion.ā In that sense, faith became a means of occluding conversation of an academic nature by removing any grounds for debate. āI believe it by faith,ā in that context, meant that reasons were not needed, even perhaps that reason wasnāt needed. But is that what Paul meant when he talked about faith? I am afraid that many unknowingly buy into Mark Twainās facetious dictum: faith is believing what you know aināt so. We must return to the New Testament, and especially Paul, to see how a proper conception of Christian faith operates. What is the relationship between faith and reason?
Faith as Doctrine
A second typical use of faith language in modern religious vocabulary pertains to things like faith statements and faith traditions. Undoubtedly, we get this terminology from the early creedsādoctrinal statements that begin āI believeā (Latin credo). Thus, faith can be nearly synonymous with the language of doctrine or religion, as in āinterfaith dialogue.ā This is not an unreasonable association based on certain language in the New Testament (e.g., 1 Tim 4:6), but this kind of thinking, where faith equals doctrine, could degenerate into a kind of checklist mentality. This can turn faith into something sterile, purely cerebral, and even gnostic. In his book The Creed, Luke Timothy Johnson makes the point that Ļį½·ĻĻĪ¹Ļ is often translated āfaithā in English versions of the New Testament, but, in fact, the Greek word has a broad range of meaning that covers a wide spectrum: belief, trust, endurance, loyalty, obedience. When we translate Ļį½·ĻĻĪ¹Ļ only as ābelief,ā the polyvalent nature of the term is suppressed and the cognitive dimension often dominates. Johnson finds this way of flatly translating or understanding Ļį½·ĻĻĪ¹Ļ deeply problematic in view of understanding the true nature of Christian confession and life.
One can hold a belief that something is true without letting the belief matter to oneās life. The entire Christian creed can be treated as a set of beliefs that amount to no more than interesting opinions. This is the sort of faith that the letter of James scorns: āYou believe that God is one. You do well. Even the demons believeāand shudder!ā (Jas 2:19 NRSV).3
Alternatively, Johnson explains that Ļį½·ĻĻĪ¹Ļ involves a āresponse of the whole person.ā4 Part of what I wish to call for, then, is a patient (re)reading of Paul, the most Ļį½·ĻĻĪ¹Ļ-focused writer in the New Testament, in order to understand best how and why he employed Ļį½·ĻĻĪ¹Ļ terminology.
Faith as Passive
You might not be surprised to know that Martin Luther was fond of using faith language in reference to his conception of Christianity. In narrating his own epiphany about the true nature of righteousness through Christ, Luther writes:
At last, by the mercy of God, meditating day and night, I gave heed to the words, namely, āIn it the righteousness of God is revealed, as it is written, āHe who through faith is righteous shall live.ā ā There I began to understand that the righteousness of God is revealed by the gospel, namely, the passive righteousness with which a merciful God justifies us by faith, as it is written, āHe who through faith is righteous shall live.ā Here I felt that I was altogether born again and had entered paradise itself through open gates. There a totally other face of the entire Scripture showed itself to me.5
As Alister McGrath explains, Luther understood justification to involve the transference of an alien righteousness to unrighteous persons by faith: āWe are passive, and God is active, in our justification. Grace gives, and faith gratefully receivesāand even that faith must itself be seen as a gracious gift of God.ā6
The heart of this notion of a passive receipt of righteousness seems close to how some characterize the nature of faith itself (though I do not think Luther himself ultimately favored a notion of āpassive faithā; see 24ā27). For example, Old Testament scholar Walter Kaiser summarizes the nonmeritorious acceptance of Godās grace in view of the exemplary faith of Abraham:
God does the accounting; God does the reckoning; God does the crediting; God does the justifyingāthe declaring of this man to be just. Abraham does nothing. God gave the promise which Abraham had only to receive. Sometimes the question is asked, Is believing a work in itself? Do we have āfaith in faithā? Can we pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps? The answer, of course, is that faith is passive. It is a passive act. It is like receiving a Christmas present: we put out our hands to take, to accept, to receive. There is nothing more than a passive act here. We donāt earn our Christmas presents. The same is true with faith.7
The New Testament writers clearly believed that God gave a gift in his grace that no one deserves. Thus, it is fitting to talk about believers as recipients. But does the language of passivity fit the nature of Pauline Ļį½·ĻĻĪ¹Ļ? Did the word Ļį½·ĻĻĪ¹Ļ in Paulās time communicate nonactivity, passivity, even a passive act?
One might appeal to Pauline language that juxtaposes faith and works (Rom 3:21ā31; 9:32; Gal 2:16; cf. Eph 2:8ā9). However, because of the complex history of the interpretation of Paul in the church and Western society, it is best to set a discussion of the Pauline language of faith (Ļį½·ĻĻĪ¹Ļ) on the right track by beginning with the Old Testament. Through a study that takes a particularly Jewish perspective on the language of faith, we can understand Paulās theology in a way that goes beyond (merely) belief.
The Old Testament Foundation of Paulās Use of Ī į½·ĻĻĪ¹Ļ
Two times Paul quotes Hab 2:4 (āthe righteous will live by faithā) in order to make a point about a Christian life determined by Ļį½·ĻĻĪ¹Ļ (Gal 3:11; Rom 1:17). That should be a key indicator that his own understanding of faith was highly (though not exclusively) influenced by the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Old Testament that was, for all intents and purposes, what Paul read as Scripture.8 Thus, in order to make the most sense of what Paul meant when he used the language of Ļį½·ĻĻĪ¹Ļ, it is necessary to investigate how the Septuagint translators used this word, especially in view of Hebrew/Aramaic terms and ideas. A substantial discussion of the use of Ļį½·ĻĻĪ¹Ļ is coming in chapter 3, but at this juncture it is crucial that a proper perspective on the scriptural use of faith language is adumbrated.
A study of the relationship between the Greek Septuagint and the Hebrew Old Testament demonstrates that, while the Septuagint translators used Ļį½·ĻĻĪ¹Ļ in relation to a number of Hebrew words, the three most common are ××× ,×××× ×, and ×××Ŗ. The first word, ×××, means ātrustā or āreliability.ā The second, ×××× ×, is quite similar.9 In contexts related to human relationships, ×××× × āoften refers to those who have the capacity to remain stable (i.e., faithful) amid the unsettling circumstances of life, realizing Godās truth has established them.ā10 For example, the term is used of Mosesās hands as Aaron and Hur supported him on the hill of Rephidim (Exod 17:12). Thus, his hands were firm, steady, reliable.
The third term, ×××Ŗ, can be translated āfaithfulnessā or ādependability.ā11 Isaiah 38:3 furnishes a helpful example. Here Hezekiah, having taken ill, pleads before God with these words: āRemember now, O LORD, I implore you, how I have walked before you in faithfulness [×××Ŗ] with a whole heart, and have done what is good in your sightā (NRSV).
Walter Brueggemann stresses how the Old Testament language of faith is everywhere associated with covenant relationship. Within this construct, faith has less to do with theological ideas per se than with the nature and integrity of a relationship of trust. Brueggemann writes:
āFaithā concer...