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Chapter I

§ 56. The Name

In the answer to what we are to understand by Theology, even the name is in our time too superficially explained. The reason is that men are in some perplexity about the name. Having broken away from old-time Theology, and having displaced it by something else, the old name is merely kept to maintain in a moral and formal sense an hereditary right to the heritage of Sacrosanct Theology. This is only arbitrary, unless one can prove, genetically at least, his relation to old-time Theology. If this cannot be done, it does not infringe the right to abandon what has become unfit for use, and to replace it by a new complex of studies entirely differently understood, but in that case the old name should be discarded. For then the name becomes a false label, and its retention would be dishonest. Our going back to the name of Theology is therefore no antiquarian predilection, but is demanded by the method that must guide us in defining the conception of Theology. The effort more and more put forth in the second half of this century, either in the psychologic-empiric line of Schleiermacher, or in the speculative track of Hegel, or in both, to form a certain idea of the departments taught in the Theological faculty, to translate this idea into a conception, ,^nd to take this conception as the definition of Theology, is a method which can stand no testing, because in this way the certainty that the object of this science remains the same is altogether wanting. In his Cratylus Plato does not say in vain: "To teach a thing rightly it is necessary first to define its name." Even in itself, therefore, a study of the name of Theology is demanded; but this is much more necessary now since a genealogical proof must be furnished by those who claim hereditary right, and this hereditary right to the Theological inheritance must be disputed with more than one contestant.

For the right understanding of the name Theology the etymology and the usage of the word claim our attention. With respect to the etymology three questions arise: In what sense is -logia to be interpreted? In what sense 0eo?? And in this connection is Oe<k to be taken actively or passively? The addition -logia occurs, just as the allied terms, in the sense of speaking about something, as well as in the sense of thinking about something. Aoyelov was in Athens what we call the platform, and OeoXoyelov was the place on the stage from which they spoke who represented the gods as speaking. The conception of speaking, therefore, and not of thinking, stands here clearly in the foreground. In oareoXoyia, <f>vaioXoyia, and other combinations, on the other hand, -logia has the sense of tracing, investigating. In itself, therefore, OeoXoyia could indicate etymologically the action of a OeoX6yo<;, i.e. of one who speaks about God, as well as the thinking about God. The only thing that serves as a more precise indication here is the age of the word and the object to which -Xoyia is coupled. The root of Xeyeiv (to speak) with Homer almost always means "to gather." with or without choice. Only later on it obtains the sense of speaking. And only later still, in its last development, the utterance of the thought is put in the background, in order to cause the thought itself to appear in the front. Since now the word OeoXoyia occurs already in Plato, the first understanding of -Xoyia has the choice; a choice which is confirmed by Plato's own words. In his de Re Publ. Lib. II., p. 379°, he writes: "We, O Adimantos, are at this moment no poets (iroivrai^), but speak as founders of a city (oikuttcu iroXeaxs), and as such we should understand the forms Qrinroi) in which the poets must tell their legend." The question is then asked, " What should be the forms (types) of Theology?" upon which the answer follows that the gods must be proclaimed as they are, whether they are spoken of in "epics, in lyrics, or in tragedy" (iv threat, iv fieXeaiv or iv rpaycp&iq). This statement admits of no doubt. In this place at least -Xoyia is used in the sense of speaking. And with reference to its composition with 8eo-, it is evident that the idea of investigating the being of God must have originated much later than the necessity of speaking about the gods. Hence our first conclusion is that -Xoyia in this combination was originally used in the sense of speaking. The second question, what Oeo- in this combination means, the gods in general or the only true God, can likewise be answered by the above citation from Plato. Plato himself interchanges 'theology' with a speaking of the gods in epics, in lyrics, or in tragedy. Concerning the third question, however, whether in this combination Oeo- is object or subject, we must grant the possibility of both. In OeoBoaios, Oeofinvia, OeoKparia, OeoKpicria, Oeoyafiia, Oeoirpa%ia, Oeoirpoiria, etc., a god is meant who gives, who is angry, who rules, judges, marries, acts, speaks, and thus Geo- is the subject. On the other hand, in Oeoaifteia, Oeofiifirjaia, OeoKXvrr)ai<;, OeoXarpeia, etc., it is a god who is feared, imitated, invoked, and honored, hence Oeo- is the object. QeoXoyia, therefore, can mean etymologically the speaking of God, as well as the speaking about God. Or if you take OeoXoyia in the later sense of knowledge, then it indicates a knowledge which God Himself has, as well as a knowledge which we have of God. Finally, in the last-mentioned sense OeoX6yo<; seems to be older than OeoXoyelv, and it appears that OeoXoyelv as well as OeoXoyia are derived from it. The result therefore is that Theology etymologically is no combination of Oe&i and X0y05, but means originally a speaking of or about a god or gods; and that only with the further development of the word logos, which at first indicated a collected mass, then a word, and only later reason or thought, OeoXoyos, 8eoXoyelv, and OeoXoyia also were conceived as a knowledge of or concerning a god or the gods.

Since the etymology admits so many possibilities, the more accurate knowledge of the term "Theologia" should be gleaned from the usage of the word. With Lucian and Plutarch OeoX6yo<; occurs in the general sense of one who treats of the gods, and Augustine declares in de Civ. Dei, XVIII., c. 14: "During the same period of time arose the poets, who were also called theologians, because they made hymns about the gods." With Aristotle OeoXoyelv indicates, to be a theologian, or to act as a theologian. 'E7rto-rT^H? OeoXoyiKrj means with Aristotle (Metaph. X. 6) a knowledge concerning the divine; while with Plato, "theology" occurs as a speaking about the gods, and with Aristotle in the plural number, "Theologies" were investigations into divine things {Metereol. 2. 1). Thus far in all these combinations the general conception was implied of engaging oneself with the matter of the gods or deity, either in consultation with tradition, or in reflection for the sake of a more accurate understanding. With the name "Theology," this general conception has been adopted by Christian writers, modified according to the requirements of their point of view, and carried out upon a large scale. He who reads the exhaustive explanation of Suicer, Thes. graec, under the words OeoX6yo<;, OeoXoyia, and OeoXoyeiv perceives at once how greatly the use of these words was increased and how much more deeply the thinking consciousness entered into the sense of these words, than with the classical writers. That the apostle John was early called the Theologian (6 #€0X0y0?), even in the title of the Apocalypse, cannot properly be explained from his reference to the Logos in the prologue to his Gospel and in his first Epistle; but indicates that John was esteemed to be more versed in the divine mysteries than any other apostle. This readily accounts for the fact that he is indicated as such in the title of the Apocalypse and not in the title of his Gospel. In a like sense all the writers of the Old and New Testaments, but more especially the prophets and apostles, are called theologians. Thus Athanasius says, Oratio de incarnatione Verbi, I., p. 62, ravra Be Kal irapd rcov avrov Tov S«t%w OeoXoycav avBpaiv marrevadai ni Bvvarai, evrvy^dva>v Tok exeivcov ypdfifiaaiv; i.e. one thing and another concerning the Saviour you can also confirm by an appeal to the theologians if you turn to their writings. But shortly after this follows the significance of theological investigations of ecclesiastical questions. Thus Gregory of Nazianzus was called "the Theologian," not to place him on a level with John, as though to him also divine mysteries had been revealed, but because in the treatment of dogma he always ascended to God, and thus, as Gregory the Presbyter writes, reached the height of dogma (v^ro? Boyfidr<ov). (See Suicer, I., p. 1360.)

If thus the word "theologos" itself admitted of a twofold meaning, that of "a speaker in the name of God," and that of "a thinker who in his thinking ascends to God," the word "theologein" was still more pliable. This also signified at first to speak in the name of God; for instance, irepl rovra>v Ta>v Boyfidr<ov OeoXoyel 'Haaia<s, i.e. concerning these things Isaiah speaks as commanded by God. Secondly, to explain any point theologically; for instance, Aoyov eiirev iva Tt)v reXeiav vnrap^iv aoi Tov 'lrjaov OeoXoytfo-p, i.e. he names Christ the Logos, in order to explain the absolute relation of Jesus to the very essence of God, — a use of this word which already with Justin Martyr obtained more general currency to indicate an investigation which was instituted with a certain dignity of form. Thus, for instance, in his Dial. c. Tr. (ed. von Otto, Jenae, 1876, I. 400 B), "Do you inquire in the spirit of theological discussion why one 'a' was added to the name of Abraham, and ask with an air of importance why one 'r' was added to the name of Sarah?" (Ata T! fiev ev dX<f>a 7t/jwto) irpoaeredrj rq>'A/3paan 6v6p.an, OeoXoyelf, Kal Bid ri ev pS> ra> Sap/aa? ovofiari, 6/ioia>? KOfiiroXoyeli); where from the coupling of KOfnroXoyelv and OeoXoyelv it clearly appears, that in both cases a dignity, a gravity, and a rhetoric are implied, which did not correspond to the unimportance of the question. But besides these two meanings, which run parallel with those of "theologos," the great Fathers of the Christological conflict also used, in the footsteps of Justin, the word "theologein" in the sense of proclaiming one to be God, of announcing one as God. Justin Martyr wrote in his Dial. c. Tryph. (ed. von Otto, Jenae, 1876, I., p. 104 C), with the Messianic prophecy in Psalm xlv. 6 sq. in mind, "If, therefore, you say that the Holy Spirit calls any other God (OeoXoyelv) and Lord (KvpioXoyelv) except the Father of all the Universe and his Christ," — which manner of speech, both by the sense and by the addition of KvpioXoyelv, leaves no doubt but that OeoXoyelv is taken in the sense of calling one God. Thus also we read in Athanasius (Tom. I., p. 1030): 'Ev dttaaiv ol? Bo^d^erai 6 irarrjp OeoXoyovfievos, iv avrol<; Bo^d^erai Kal 6 uto? Kal To irvevfux To ayiov, i.e. "In all points in which the Father is glorified by being spoken of as God, the same also takes place with the Son and with the Holy Ghost." For the sake of still greater clearness, the word Oe6v is even added, OeoXoyelv riva Oeov, as for instance, in Philostorgius, Hist. Eccl. XIV., p. 103, To frpXiov OeoXoyel Oeov rov . . . Brjfuovpybv dirdvra>v, i.e. This book, the Gospel of John, calls the author of all things God. Thus also Ctesarius, Quest. 22, p. 44, says of the Christ, "also when he is incarnate, nevertheless Vtto T5>v irpo(pvr&v OeoXoyelrai, i.e. is he called God by the prophets; the Latin praedicare Deum." And finally there was developed from this the more general significance of deifying something or making it to be God. For instance, ov iravra Kara. <f>vaiv yiverai, Xva Fjlt) OeoXoyrjOfj 77 <f>vai<; (Chrysostom, V., p. 891), i.e. "It is by Divine appointment that all things do not happen in accordance with nature, lest nature be taken for God."

In this way only can we understand the history of the word "theology" in Patristic literature. If a theologian is one who speaks in the name of God, ImdTiheologein the act itself of speaking in the name of God, then we understand how "Theology" could mean the Old and the Neio Testament: T77? iraXaia<; deoXoyiai Kal Tt/? ve-ai OeoXoyia<; Tt/v ^vfji<f>coviav op&v, Oavfidaerai rrjv aXr\Oeiav, i.e. "Seeing the harmony of the Old and New Testament, one marvels at the truth" (Theodor. Therap. See Suicer, I., p. 1359). For the word of God comes to us in these two Testaments. If in the second place the word theologein means to explain a point so fully as to trace it back to God, then it is clear how "Theology" could mean: reduction to the mystery of the essence of God. Thus says Theodoret (Qucest. in Genes. I., p. 3), rl Brjtrore fir) irporera^e Tt)? rS>v oXa>v hrjfiiovpyia<; OeoXoyiav; i.e. "Why did not Moses preface the creation-narrative with an introduction on the mystery of the essence of God?" If, in the third place, "theologein" was used in the sense of "to declare some one God," then it follows also that "Theology" could signify: the divine appellation. Thus says Pachymeres in his note on Dionysius Areopagita (Suicer, I., p. 300), ra Koivsk rfj Oeia Qvaei apfio^ovra ovofiara Tjva>fievvv eiriypdfei OeoXoyiav, i.e. the names which in general belong to the divine nature, he calls theologia unita. And since in the bitter conflict against the Arians everything hinged on the point of proclaiming Christ as God, "Theology" in this sense became almost synonymous with the Deity of Christ. Thus Gregory of Nyssa speaks of a Krjpvaaew To fivarrjpiov rift OeoXoyias, with his eye on John i. 1, which thus means to say, "to announce the mystery of the Deity of Christ." This Theologia was then placed over against olKovofiia as the appellation for his human nature. Thus in Theodoret, Comm. in Heb. iv. 14, p. 414: we ought to know riva fiev Tj}? OeoXoyias, riva Be Tj/9 oucovofiiai ov6fiara, i.e. what names belong to his divine, and what to his human, nature. In connection with this, "Theology" was also used in the sense of the "mystery of the Trinity." The knowledge of God, which as such was the characteristic of Christianity, was contained just in this trinitarian mystery. Thus Athanasius, de Definitionibus, Tom. II., p. 44: 'E7rl Tj}? OeoXoyia<; fiiav <pvaiv 6fioXoyovfiev Tjj? ay ias TpidBos, rpels 8' viroardaeK, i.e. "Of the mystery of the Divine Being we confess that in the Holy Trinity there is only one nature, but a threefold hypostasis." Photius, Epist. XXXIV., p. 95, Sxrirep hrl Tjj? OeoXoyiai To rpeh ofioXoyelv ovaia<; iroXvOeov, i.e. even as it is Polytheistic to confess three substances in the mystery of the Trinity. Theophylact, Comm. in Math., c. xxviii., p. 185, eliruyv on Set ftairri£eiv ek To ovofia Tj)<j rpidBo<; Ttjv OeoXoyiav fjp.lv irapeBaiKev, i.e. by the command to baptize in the name of the Trinity, Christ has revealed to us the mystery of the Divine Being. And in like sense Gregory Nazianzen uses the word when in Oration L, p. 16, he writes, rpia ear* irepl OeoXoyia<; appa>arrjfiara, i.e. there are three weaknesses with reference to the interpretation of the Divine mystery.

Thus the development of the term Theology is not doubtful. First the word was adopted from the pagan usage to indicate a speaking of the things that pertain to the gods or God, whether materially, as declarations of divine affairs, or simply formally, as a speaking with dignity and with a certain unction. In the conflict about the divine nature of Christ the still living Grecian language-consciousness began to use the term OeoXoyelv actively in the sense of calling one God, and thereby OeoXoyia obtained gradually the significance of the confession of the Deity of Christ. Since the Christological conflict speedily assumed a Trinitarian character, and the confession of the Trinity hinged upon the acknowledgment of the Deity of Christ, Theology began gradually to be interpreted in the sense of the mystery of the Divine Essence as Trinitarian. And finally, by Theology there began to be understood that which is revealed to us concerning this mystery, since to this extent only we can deal with this mystery. At the point of history when the supremacy of the Church was transferred from the East to the West, and the living word 9eoXoyia was lost in the dead barbarism Theologia, this Latin term was understood to mean the revealed knowledge of the mystery of the Threefold Being of God, and by no means a prosecution of Theological departments of study.

§ 57. Theological Modality of the Conception of Theology

Thomas Aquinas (Summa Theol. I. 9, i., art. 7) already protested against the abuse of making the nature of Theology to consist, not in the knowledge of God, but in the knowledge of an entirely different object of investigation; and thus against those who assigned, not God, but "another subject for this science, for example, either things and signs, or the works of redemption, or else the whole Christ, that is, both head and members "; for, says he, "all these are treated in this science, but according to their order with respect to God" ("aliter assignaverunt huius scientiae subjectum, sc. vel res, et signa, vel opera reparationis, vel totum Christum, id est, caput et membra," . . . "de omnibus istis tractatur in istascientia, sed secundum ordinem ad Deum").i So far as this protest directs itself against the soteriological or Christological interpretation of the science of Theology, it is equally pertinent to almost all definitions which in the course of this century have been given of the conception of Theology. What he says, on the other hand, of Theology as a study of the Signa et Res, refers in part to Peter Lombard's Sententiae, but principally to Augustine, who, in his Libri IV. de doctrina Christiana, had followed the division into Signa et Res,—a division which Thomas does not reject, but which in his view does not define the "subject of Theology," or what we would call the object of Theology.

The important interest defended by Thomas in this protest, a protest to which all earlier Reformed theologians have lent their influence, lies in the requirement that the conception of Theology must not only be construed abstractly logically, but also theologically.

i Scientiae subjeclum here stands for what we would call Scientiae objectum. This confusion between the grammatical and the logical antithesis of subject and object is to be laid to Aristotle's credit, who took T4 iroKtlfitmv, i.e. the subject, also for rb *epl ou A X6701 ytverai. Compare Prantl, Oeschichle der Logik im Abendland, Leipzig, 1867, III. 208: "An unzahligen Stellen treffen wir fortan (since Duns Scotus, tl308, who first placed them over against each other as termini), bis in das 18th Jahrhundert (d. h. bis Alex. Baumgarten) diesen gebraueh der Worte 'subjective' und 'objective,' welcher zu dem jetzigen sich genau umgekehrt verhalt: namlich damals hiess subjectivum dasjenige, was sich auf das Subject der Urtheille, also auf die concreten Gegenstande des Denkens, bezieht; hingegen objective jenes, was im blosseu objicere, i.e. im Vorstelligmachen, liegt und hiemit auf Rechnung des Vorstellenden fallt."

See also Rudolph Encken, Die Gruridbegriffe der Oegenwart, Leipzig, 1893: Subjectiv-Objectiv, pp. 25 ff.; and Trendelenburg, Elementa Logices Aristotdiciae, ed. VIII., pp. 54, 55.

Augustine already tried to do this, though he rarely used the word Theology to indicate the conception intended by us. What in the Western Church also was called Theology, he called Doctrina de Deo or Christian Doctrine; and however strange it may seem, by the word Theology Augustine understands the pagan rather than the Christian conceptions of the Divine. This appears prominently in his De Civitate Dei, in which he (Lib. VI., c. 5 sq., ed. Bened. Bass. Ven., 1797, pp. 179-255) discusses the system of Varro, as though there were three kinds of Theology: mythology (theologia fabulosa), which lived in tradition and in the theatre; natural theology (theologia naturalist, which is found in the writings of the philosophers; and State religion (theologia civilis), which was maintained by official public worship. And it is noteworthy that while continually quoting this threefold description of Theology, Augustine nowhere places theologia Christiana, or vera, over against it, but always speaks of Doctrina Christiana. Once only, in caput 8 (p. 203), does he take theologia in its general sense, but still not to express doctrina Christiana, but that after which the doctrina Christiana seeks. In refuting the physiological representations of the philosophers he says: "But all these things, they say, have certain physical, i.e. natural, interpretations, showing their natural meaning; as though in this disputation we were seeking physics and not theology, which is the account, not of nature, but of God." From this we see, that by " Theology " Augustine did not understand the study of our science, nor that science itself; by him this was called doctrina; but much more the knowledge of God, as the aim of theological study.

Thus with Augustine already this deeper conception of Theology bore a decidedly theological character. This is seen in his Libri IV. de doctrina Christiana, where he goes back to God, as Himself the Wisdom (Sapientia), and calls Christ, as the Word of God (Verbum Dei), the first way to God (prima ad Deum via), and then by the side of the intellectual method of attaining the knowledge of God, he also emphasizes the way of contemplation (via contemplationis) and the seeing of God. Thomas Aquinas also occupies this point of view in the main, and in his footsteps also Calvin. Thomas' chief work bears, indeed, the title of Summa theologica, but in his introduction he systematically treats of the sacra doctrina, which really is not Theology itself, but circa theologiam versatur. Only rarely does the word theologia occur with him, as, for instance, when in P. i. i. Qu. art. 7, ed. Neap., 1762, I., p. 12b, he says: "But in this science discourse is chiefly made about God, for it is called Theology, as being discourse about God" ("Sed in hac Bcientia fit sermo principaliter de Deo; dicitur enim theologia, quasi sermo de Deo "). Here, however, he gives us least of all a definition, but derives an argument from the etymology of the word to maintain "God" (o 0ed?) as the object of the 'sacred doctrine.' The real conception which he attaches to Theology is therefore much more clearly seen from what he says concerning faith, hope and love as the three virtutes theologicae (see I., secundae, qu. 62, art. i.

Let it be noted also that he did not write as the title of his work: Summa theologz'ae, but Summa theologtca. De Moor, in his Comm. in Marck., Tom. I., p. 9, quotes these words of Thomas: "Theology is taught by God, teaches of God, and leads to God" ("Theologia a Deo docetur, Deum docet et ad Deum ducit"); since, however, he does not name the place where he found this citation, it is not to be verified. In like manner Calvin does not give to his dogmatics the title of Epitome Theologiae, but of Institutio religionis Christianae, and translates the word theologia, which he almost everywhere avoids, by notitia Dei (cf. Lib. I., c. i., § i. sq.~). The indexes are not trustworthy with reference to this. The index to Thomas as well as to Calvin's Institutes gives a meaning to the word Theology in which the word Theology itself was used neither by Thomas nor by Calvin.

This distinction, now, which maintained itself for a long time between theological science as sacred learning or instruction (sacra doctrina, institutio), etc., and Theology itself as knowledge of God (notitia Dei), was not trivial; but tended to interpret the conception of Theology theologically, as this theological conception is more precisely analyzed into the theologia archetypa and ectypa. And this must be maintained. The field of knowledge disclosed to us in Theology cannot logically be coordinated with the other fields that are investigated by our understanding. As soon as this is done, Theology is already robbed of its peculiar character, and cannot be interpreted except as a part of metaphysics, or as a science whose object of investigation is the empirical phenomenon of religion, or, more precisely, the Christian religion. If, on the other hand, Theology is a knowledge which, instead of dealing with created things, illumines our minds with respect to the Creator, and the "origin and end of all things," it follows that this knowledge must be of a different nature, and must come to us in another way. The normae that are valid for our knowledge elsewhere have no use here; the way of knowledge must here be another one, and the character itself of this knowledge must differ from all other science. As within the boundaries of the finite you must follow a different way to knowledge for the spiritual than for the natural sciences, the way to the knowledge of that which transcends the finite and lies beyond its boundary cannot coincide with the Erkenntnisstheorie of the finite. Hence we have no warrant for making a logical division and saying: Science investigates nature, man, and God, and the science which does the latter is Theology, simply because the coordination of nature, God and man is false. He who views these three as coordinates, starts out logically from the denial of God as God. This was entirely correctly perceived by the Greek Fathers, and in the steps of Augustine by the Western Fathers, in consequence of which, even though without sufficient clearness of insight, they refused to place Theology in line with the other -logies or -nomies, and demanded a theological interpretation of the conception of Theology. The force of this theological interpretation was still felt in the second half of the eighteenth century, whenever the dogmatici described Dogmatics not as a subdivision of Theology or as one of the departments of theological study, but as the theologia propria, to which exegesis, church history, church polity, etc., were added as auxiliary studies. They had already lost the conception of Theology to such an extent that, although not theoretically, they practically applied the name of Theology to the human study which was devoted to this revealed knowledge of God; but from their limitation of this name to Dogmatics it was evident that they took this to be the study that leads to the right understanding of the real knowledge of God. They were not concerned about all kinds of learning, but about God Himself, and that alone which could bring us a closer knowledge of that God could claim in the more precise sense the name of Theology. It is indeed true, as is shown by the history of Encyclopedia, that the Encyclopedists gradually began to understand by Theology the complex of the several departments of theological study; but no one will contend that in doing this they contributed to an organic interpretation of the conception of Theology. Of Schleiermacher only it can really be said that, seeing the unskilfulness of the earlier Encyclopedists, he seriously tried to bring Theology, not as a knowledge of God, but taken as a theological science, to a unity of interpretation. It is too bad that he went to work at this so unhistorically; that he paid almost no attention to the development of the conception of Theology in former ages: and still more is it a pity that, mistaken in the idea of the object, he could not attain to an organic interpretation, and advanced no further than to explain it as an aggregate, united by the tendency of these several studies to aid in preparation for the sacred office. By this he cut off the theological understanding from the conception of Theology; and they who have come after him have no doubt superseded his aggregate by an organic conception, and his exceeding^ limited object by a broader object, but have not removed the breach between what Theology was originally and what lias since been understood by it. The rule continued to be derived exclusively from Logica by which to define the conception of Theology, and thus it was impossible to regain the theological conception of this science. This does by no means imply that repristination of the former conception would suffice. The very contrary will appear from our further exposition. All we intend to say, is that here also no progress is possible, unless we continue our work along the line of those threads that were spun for us in the past.

And in looking back upon this past we find that in the conception of Theology a characteristic theological modality exhibits itself almost constantly; by which we mean that the peculiar character of Theology has exerted an influence also upon the forming of this conception. How far this influence extended can only be shown in the following sections; but in order to place the significance of those sections in the desired light, it was specially necessary to refer to this point.

§ 58. TJie Idea of Theology

He who is called to the fifth story of a large building, and finds an elevator, which without any effort on his part brings him in a moment where he wants to be, will not climb the hundred or more steps on foot. Applied to our knowledge, this implies that common, slow investigation, with its inductions and deductions, is merely the stairs with its hundred steps by which we climb the heights of knowledge, while the attainment of knowledge is ever the aim in view. From which it follows that if that same height of knowledge can be reached by a shorter or less laborious way, the former stairs become worthless. This is true horizontally as well as vertically. Since now there are railways to all the corners of Europe, no one travels any longer by stage-coach. Though there may be a peculiar pleasure attached to that slow rate of progress, or rather to creeping along the way of knowledge, it is, nevertheless, somewhat morbid to abandon for the sake of this lower pleasure the much higher delight of the knowledge of the truth. Lessing's proverb has led us astray on this point, and therefore the brief indication of the only true point of view was necessary. What surprises still await us of locomotion by electricity or through the air are not easily foretold; but this is certain, that every more rapid communication antiquates the less rapid. This compels us in Theology, also, to distinguish between the conception and the idea of Theology. The conception is bound to the way of knowledge which we travel. The idea, on the other hand, views the end, independently of the question of the way by which this end shall be reached. This was the distinction in view in the formerly generally current division of Theology into a theologia unionis, visionis and stadii. This supplied three conceptions, which found their unity in the idea of Theology. The theologia unionis was that highest knowledge of God, which Christ possessed in His human nature, by virtue of the union of this nature with the Divine nature. The theologia visionis, also called patriae, was the appellation of the knowledge of God which once the elect will obtain in the state of heavenly blessedness. And the theologia stadii, also called studii, or viatorum, expressed that knowledge of God which is acquired here upon earth by those who are known of the Lord. That which was common to them all, and which united these three conceptions, was the general idea of the knowledge of God. The aim of Theology, therefore, did not lie in the theological investigation, neither in all sorts of studies and learning, but exclusively in knowing God. All study and learning served only as scaffolds for erecting the palace of our knowledge; but as soon as the building was finished that scaffolding lost all its meaning, even became a hindrance, and had to be cleared away. And this was more clearly perceived in olden times, than by most theologians after Schleiermacher. The idea of Theology can Jje^ none other than the knowledge of (?oc?j_and all_ activity impelled by Theology must in the last instance be bent upon_the. knowledge of God. This is not said in a metaphorical, but in a very exact sense. And this must be maintained as the idea of Theology, when you come to consider also the science of Theology, as it is studied and taught by the Theological faculty. By a different notion of the idea, and by lowering your ideal, you degrade theological science itself. According to its idea, Theology does not at first demonstrate that there is a God; but it, springs out of the overwhelming impression which, aa the only absolutely existing One,jGod Himself makes upon the human consciousness, and finds its_motiye in the~admTration which of itself powerfully quickens the thirst to know God. Though Theology may be permitted to seek after proofs for the existence of God, by which it may open the eyes of those half-blind, it cannot itself start out from doubt, nor can it spend itself in the investigation of religious phenomena, or in the speculative development of the idea of the absolute. It may do all this when it is convenient and as a dialectic auxiliary, but all this is only secondary; at most, a temporary bridge, by which itself to reach the other side or bring others there, but its purpose, wading the mountain stream, remains to come to the mountain itself, and in the sweat of its brow to climb the mountain path, until at length the highest peak is reached, the top itself, where the panorama, the knowledge of God, unveils itself. Only when thus interpreted does Theology regain its necessary character, and otherwise it lapses into an accidental dilettantism. Thus only it regains its value, and, apart from every conception of utility or eudemonistic purpose, it recovers an absolute significance in itself. Thus in its very idea it advances beyond the boundary of our present existence, and extends itself into the eternal and the infinite.

The older Theologians derived this more accurate insight into the nature of Theology and this necessary distinction between the idea and the several conceptions of the one Theology from the Holy Scriptures. In the Scriptures " the knowledge of God" is clearly stated as the forma of "eternal life," and of that knowledge of God several degrees are indicated. The distinction is evident at once between the knowledge of God disclosed to man before he sinned, and that modified knowledge of God given to the sinner. There was a knowledge of God for Him who said: "Neither doth any know the Father, save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son willeth to reveal him"; and a knowledge of God for those who could not attain this save by that Son. And finally in the Scriptures a very significant distinction is made between the knowledge of God of those who have been "enlightened" and of those who still "walk in darkness"; between the knowledge of God, already obtained here by those who have been enlightened, and that which shall sometime be their portion in the realm of glory. Hence a rich difference of form was found in the Scriptures, but still the same idea was common to all these forms, which idea was and is: to know God, and to know Him as men. For in the Scriptures a knowledge of God in the world of angels is also spoken of, which is not entirely lost even in fallen angels, so that "the devils also believe that there is one God"; but since this knowledge assumes another subject, we need not here take it into account. This treatise deals exclusively with human Theology (Theologia humana), and for the sake of clearness we leave the other distinctions alone, in order now to study the distinction between our knowledge of God here and in heaven (Theologia stadii and patriae).

The classical proof-text for this is 1 Cor. xiii. 8—13, where the holy apostle definitely declares, that the gnosis which we now have "shall be done away," since now it is only a knowing "in part"; that in this matter of our knowledge of God there is a "perfect" contrasted to that which is now "in part"; that when that which is "perfect" is come, a seeing of "face to face" shall come into being; and that this seeing shall be a "knowing even as also I have been known." Elsewhere also, in Matt. v. 8, in 1 John iii. 2, in Psalm xvii. 15, etc., a knowledge of God is mentioned, which shall consist in a seeing of God; but for brevity's sake we confine ourselves to the utterance in 1 Cor. xiii. Two things are here included. First, a sharp dividing-line is drawn between the knowledge of God which is acquired on earth, and that other knowledge of God which is in prospect on the other side of the grave. But secondly, the relation is indicated which is sustained between these two forms of knowledge. Knowledge does not disappear in order to make room for sight. It is not a knowing here and a seeing of God there. No, it is a knowing both here and there; but with this difference, that here it is " in part" and there it shall be "perfect." The seeing, on the other hand, is, here as well as there, the means by which to obtain that knowledge; here a seeing "through a glass darkly," there a seeing "face to face." The holy apostle treats even more exhaustively the relation between Theology here and in heaven by indicating the analogy of the child that becomes a man. The child and the man have both a certain knowledge, but the knowledge of the child dissolves in that of the man. By becoming a man he himself brings the putting away of that which belonged to the child. Thus the unity between the two forms of our knowledge of God is most firmly maintained, and both conceptions of knowledge emphasized as finding their higher unity in the idea of Theology, which is and always will be: the knowledge of God. That Paul speaks very expressly here of the knowledge of God, and not of "the knowledge of divine things" in general, appears clearly from the Kadta< ; iireyva>aOvv in vs. 12. "Knowing even as also I am known" cannot mean anything save knowing Him by whom I am known.

The objection also that this future seeing of God is merely mystical or contemplative, and that therefore it has nothing to do with our logical consciousness, but falls outside of Theology, is set aside by 1 Cor. xiii. The logical is not a temporal form of our human consciousness, fundamentally fictitious, and therefore bound to pass away. But God Himself is logical, for in Him also knowledge is assumed, and between our knowledge here and that which shall be ours in eternity, there is no essential, but only a proportional, difference: now in part, then perfect. Similarly the difference between the two modes of knowledge is merely that of the immediate and mediate. Then our knowledge will turn immediately on God Himself, while now we only observe the image of God in a glass, in which it is reflected. Thus the continuity of our knowledge of God is not broken by the passing away of present things. When the knowledge "in part" shall have passed away, the identity of our consciousness shall continue. That same ego, which now can only faintly discern the image of God in a glass, shall presently be conscious of the fact that it knows that selfsame God whose image it first saw "darkly," and will recognize in the Divine face those very features which formerly it observed in the glass imperfectly and indirectly. From this, at least, we see that the so-called scientific investigation shall sometime fall away; that it bears no absolute character; and that it derives its temporal necessity merely from the condition brought about by sin, and its possibility logically from "common grace" and theologically from the "particular grace" of divine illumination. And if this is so, it follows of itself that scientific investigation can never be Theology, and is only an accidental activity amid present conditions and within given boundaries, impelled by the thirst after Theology, or rather by the thirst after the knowledge of God. Hence the higher idea of the knowledge of God determines Theological science and not Theological science the idea of Theology. There can, and there will hereafter, be a rich Theology without the aid of a Theological science; while on the other hand when Theological science withdraws itself from the knowledge of God, it loses all sufficient reason, and can lead no other than a nominal existence.

The naming of the animals by the original man in paradise presents a partial analogy. In the domain of zoology, also, the real end in view is not scientific study, but knowledge of the animal. In our present condition this knowledge cannot be acquired except by empirical investigation and the drawing of conclusions from the data obtained. But if we knew and understood the animal at once, this empirical investigation and this drawing of conclusions would be purposeless, and hence dispensable. And something like this is told us in the story of paradise. There was here really a knowledge of the animal by the "seeing of face to face." To Adam the animals were no enigma as to us, but were known and understood by him; and therefore he could give them a name according to their nature. Had this capacity remained intact in us, zoology of course would have assumed an entirely different form; and not in a lesser but in a much higher sense it would still have been zoology. For the knowledge of animals in paradisaical man was not analogous to the vague perception which we now have immediately of the world of sounds or of moral phenomena, but it was logical; as is evident from the fact that it led to the giving of the name. And in this sense it presents an analogy for Theology in its two different phases. Just as now in zoology scientific study is indispensable if we would obtain a logical knowledge of the animal, in our present dispensation Theological study is equally indispensable to obtain the logical knowledge of God. But as in paradise knowledge of animals was at the disposal of man without this study, in the dispensation of glory man will similarly attain a much more complete and yet logical knowledge of God, without theological study. This is equally applicable to theologia paradisi and theologia unionis; but this we pass by because for the sake of clearness we are considering only the antithesis between our knowledge of God "in a glass" here and "face to face" in glory.

If it is now plain that the theological idea lies in the impulse of our human consciousness to know God, entirely independently of the way in which this knowledge is to be acquired, our object has been gained. The idea of Theology as such is imperishable, but, according to the demands of our condition, it leads us by different ways to our ideal. The way which we must travel is that of theological study, and the science which is born from this study can with entire propriety be called Theology, provided this is not done in an exclusive sense, and this science admits no other motive than to know or learn to know God. Every conception of Theology which is not subordinated to the idea of Theology must fail.

§ 59. The Dependent Character of Theology

If the idea of Theology lies in the knowledge of God, an entirely peculiar character flows from this for all Theology, which distinguishes it from all other knowledge or investigations of science. For in all other investigations the investigating subject places himself above the object to be investigated, is the active agent in the investigation, and directs his course in obedience to his own free judgment. And this is both possible and proper with created things, because among all these man ranks first. But when the thirst for knowledge directs itself to Him to whom man and all creation owe their origin, existence, and consciousness, the circumstances are materially changed. Then man stands no longer above, but beneath the object of his investigation, and over against this object he finds himself in a position of entire dependence. Our earlier Theologians explained this by distinguishing between archetypal Theology (Theologia archetypa) and ectypal Theology (Theologia ectypa) — a distinction which as it was finally defended could not be maintained, but which contains an element of truth that should not be abandoned. For the real thought fundamental to this distinction between archetypal and ectypal Theology is that all personal life remains a closed mystery to us as long as he whose life this is does not himself disclose it to us. And this thought must be maintained. We purposely limit ourselves to personal life in order to exclude the zoological question, even though we readily grant that in animals also a similar mystery presents itself; but this mystery need not detain us now, because the knowledge of man presents already the entirely sufficient analogy for the knoivledge of God. With man also the rule applies to each individual that you cannot know him in his personal existence, except he himself disclose the mystery of his inner being.

And yet as far as man is concerned, appearance might readily deceive us. We quickly form an idea about the persons we meet in daily life, and some of us can form a fairly accurate idea of a man at the very moment of meeting. Let us observe however: first, that being human ourselves we have a means in our own existence by which measurably at least to understand a fellow-creature. Were we not ourselves man, we would not understand what man is; as it reads in 1 Cor. ii. 11: "For who among men knoweth the things of a man, save the spirit of the man, which is in him?" In the second place, this knowledge which we owe to our mutual relationship, is strengthened by the fact, that as a rule we associate with fellow-citizens, congenial spirits, and those to whom we are united by a certain community of lot. Hence not only our common humanity, but the fact also that the modality of existence is largely common to us all, makes it easy from ourselves to form conclusions concerning others. How important this factor is, we perceive at once when we cross the boundaries of our native land, and especially when we come among other races and into entirely different countries. A Russ or Finn understands very little of the real inner nature of the Red man, and what does a Frenchman understand of the inner nature of a Lapp or Finn? In the third place, let it be noted that however much there may be something personal in every man, characters divide themselves into certain classes, which are recognized by certain combinations of phenomena, so that he who knows one or more of these kinds readily understands a great deal of a person, as soon as he perceives to what class he belongs. Fourthly, man is no spirit but a spiritual being, and exists simultaneously psychically and somatically, so that a great deal of his inner life manifests itself without the person being conscious of it; often indeed against his will and purpose. The look of the eye, feature and color of face, carriage and manners, composure or restlessness in the whole appearance, etc., betray much of what goes on in man. To which may be added, in the fifth place, that in conversation or in writing a man may say to us or to others, something of himself from which very important data may be gathered directly or by inference concerning the mystery of his person. No doubt there are "closed characters," and also "characters that falsify themselves," which you can never fathom, but as a rule you can obtain considerable knowledge of a man, even when he does not purposely disclose to you the mystery of his person.

If, now, on the other hand, you turn from the knowledge of man to the knowledge of God, you perceive at once that almost nothing of these five means of help is at your disposal. Standing before God you do not find an analogy in your own being to His Being, because He is God and you are man. The closer knowledge of your fellow-man which you acquire from your sharing his modality of existence falls entirely away, since the distance between you and the Eternal Being discovers itself the more overwhelmingly as your existence specifies itself. The division into kinds is of equally little service, because there is but one God, of whom therefore no conclusion can be drawn from the species to the individual. Unintentional somatic unveiling is equally impossible with God, since asomatic and only spiritual existence characterizes Him as God. And finally, the casual dropping of a remark does not occur with respect to the Eternal Being, since the casual and unconscious doing of a thing is not predicable of God.

The difficulty which the biographer encounters when he undertakes to sketch the development of a character that belongs to another age, land and surroundings, and of which almost no personal utterances are handed down in writing, repeats itself with the Theologian, only in an absolute measure. His aim and purpose is to acquire knowledge of a Being which is essentially distinguished from himself and from all other creatures; a Being which, by no amount of investigation, he can compel to give knowledge of itself; which as such falls entirely outside of his reach; and over against which he stands absolutely agnostically, in accordance with the true element of Spencer's Agnosticism.

Let it not be said, that an infinite number of things are manifest and knowable of God, in the works of creation, in history, and in the experiences of our own inner life; for all this leads to a certain knowledge of God, only when God has begun to reveal Himself to me as a God, who exists and exists as God. Even though for the moment we do not reckon with the darkening of sin, all that is called "natural revelation" would not impart to us the least knowledge of God, if it were not willed by God, and as such make an intentional revelation, i.e. a disclosure in part of His Divine mystery. Suppose that on the fixed stars there lived a race of beings, of an entirely different type from what we have ever known; the simple report of what they had done would never advance our knowledge of them, as long as the idea, not to say every conception, of their kind of being were wanting. From the nature of the case this is much more forceful with reference to the knowledge of God, and the contemplation of visible things would avail us absolutely nothing, if the sense that there is a God, and of what a God is, were not imparted to us in an entirely different way.

In this sense we speak of a dependent character for Theology. When an absolute stranger falls into the hands of the police, which is no infrequent occurrence anywhere, and steadfastly refuses to utter a single syllable, the police face an enigma which they cannot solve. They are entirely dependent upon the will of that stranger either to reveal or not to reveal knowledge of himself. And this is true in an absolute sense of the Theologian over against his God. He cannot investigate God. There is nothing to analyze. There are no phenomena from which to draw conclusions. Only when that wondrous God will speak, can he listen. ^And thjis.the_TJieolQgian is absolutely dependent upon the pleasure of God, either to impart or not to impart knowledge of Himself. Even verification is here absolutely excluded. When a man reveals something of himself to me, I can verify this, and if necessary pass criticism upon it. But when the Theologian stands in the presence of God, and God gives him some explanation of His existence as God, every idea of testing this self-communication of God by something else is absurd; hence, in the absence of such a touchstone, there can be no verification, and consequently no room for criticism. This dependent character, therefore, is not something accidental, but essential to Theology. As soon as this character is lost, there is no more Theology, even though an investigation of an entirely different kind still adorns itself with the theological name. In. his entire Theology the Theologian must stand in the presence of God as his God, and as soon as for a single instant he looks away from the living God, in order to engage himself with an idea about God over which he will sit as judge, he is lost in phraseology, because the object of his knowledge has already vanished from his view. As you cannot kneel in prayer before your God as worshipper, in any other way except as dependent upon Him, so also as Theologian you can receive no knowledge of God when you refuse to receive your knowledge of Him in absolute dependence upon Him.

This deep sense of dependence has ever induced our real theologians, in the days of their power, to place all our knowledge of God as ectypal Theology, in absolute dependence upon the self-knowledge of God, which they called archetypal Theology. As the ectype is absolutely dependent upon the archetype, is governed and formed by it, thus, they would say, all our knowledge of God is absolutely governed by the knowledge which God has of Himself. Thus they taught that we of ourselves can never enter into the holy place of the Lord, to examine it and gather knowledge concerning it, but that it behooves us to take our stand on this side of the veil, and to wait for what God Himself will communicate to us from this holy place and from behind this veil. This revelation or communication, which is imparted to our knowledge, we may consider, analyze, systematize and cast into the form of our consciousness; but in all these operations all active investigation after what is God's remains excluded, all knowledge remains received knowledge, and it is not God Himself, but the knowledge He has revealed to us concerning Himself which constitutes the material for theological investigation. Hence ectypal Theology.

The objection raised against this division and appellation cannot stand. It has been said, that in this way we can also speak of an ectypal zoology, botany, etc. For these parts of His creation are also known to God before they are known to us; and all our knowledge of the world of animals and plants, etc., is either in harmony with the knowledge God has of them and then true, or in antagonism with it and then false. This distinction between archetypal and ectypal knowledge is valid in every department, and therefore may not be claimed as something characteristic of Theology. But this objection is altogether inaccurate. For instance, I can order a sketch to be made of a gable-roof, which upon examination is seen to agree entirely with the original drawing of the architect; but does that prove that this last sketch has been copied from the original drawing? No, only if this sketch had not been made from the gable, but immediately from the original drawing, would it have been ectypal; but not now. It is not true, therefore, that our botanical and zoological knowledge can be called ectypal. It would be this, if we did not draw this knowledge from the world of animals and plants, but copied it apart of these realities from the decree of creation, as far as it referred to animals and plants. We will not stop to consider the question whether our knowledge of the world of angels, of the soul, of the other side of the grave, of the future, etc., is not ectypal; this question is in order in the section on the ambitus (circle) of Theology. It is enough if the essential difference is clear between a knowledge which is the result of the active investigation of an object, and that wholly different knowledge which we must first passively receive and then actively investigate. And with the old Theologians we maintain the ectypal character of the knowledge of God, since no man can investigate God Himself, and all the knowledge which we shall have of God can only be a copy of the knowledge God has of Himself, and is pleased to communicate to us.

Besides the strictly dependent character of Theology, there lie in this ectypal characteristic two suggestions, which must be emphasized. First, that there is no involuntary revelation. This refutes the idea that God may be more or less unconscious of Himself, or that He could be seen by us in His works, without His willing or knowing it. Since this ectypal Theology has its rise only from the fact that archetypal Theology imprints itself in it, there is nothing in the ectype which was not first in the archetype. Everything, therefore, from without that mingles itself with the ectype and does not come to it from the archetype, is contraband and must be excluded. A child may watch his father without his perceiving it or wanting to be watched; a precocious child can sometimes know his father better than he can know himself; but nothing of all this can ever take place with reference to God, because all this springs from the imperfection of the father or from the superiority of his child, and the very idea of God excludes every possibility both of incompleteness in God and of superiority in His creature. All representations of this sort, therefore, which have crept more and more into Theology, must be banished as impious, since they start out essentially from the exaltation of man above God. The second point, which must be emphasized in the ectypal character of our knowledge of God, is the truth of our knowledge of God. If the ectypal originates by the imprint of the archetypal, the ectypal image is no phantasy, no imagination, but an image in truth. Just as we saw in the antithesis between Theology here and hereafter, that our knowledge of God on earth shall then be done away, and rise again in a higher form of a knowledge "face to face"; but always such, that the truth of our knowledge "in part" shall be the more fully exhibited by the completer knowledge in heaven. Our given knowledge of God derives from this its absolute character, not as to its degree of completeness, but with reference to its connection with its object, i.e. with God. God who is, has knowledge of Himself; and from this self-knowledge God has taken the knowledge given to us. This excludes not only doubt, but also the dilution of subjectivism, as if our formulated statement of the knowledge of God in our confession were unimportent, and without loss of truth could be exchanged for every other confession or placed on a line with it.

Meanwhile we should guard against anthropomorphism in our representations of this archetypal knowledge of God. As human beings, we do not know ourselves at the beginning of our lives , gradually we obtain a certain consciousness of our own person, and we frame a certain representation of our personal existence and of our inner being. In intimate intercourse we can impart this representation of ourselves to others. And in this way it is also possible to speak of a certain archetypal and ectypal knowledge of our person. But if this were applied similarly to God, we would incur a very serious error. We cannot conceive of a gradually increasing self-consciousness in God, and consequently of an existence of God that preceded His consciousness. Consciousness in God covers His entire existence, and the word "eternal" is predicable of both in an intensive sense. Hence with God there can be no self-knowledge which has been formed in a human way by observation, analysis, inference, etc. The self-knowledge in God is sui generis, and therefore Divine. If this condemns the admission of all anthropomorphism in the archetypal knowledge, this mode of representation is equally inadmissible in our communication of this knowledge to man. When we communicate something concerning ourselves to another, it is man who imparts something to man, and thereby deals with analogies that are mutually present, and with similar representations which render the understanding of our communications possible. All this, however, falls away when God approaches man. Then it is not God revealing knowledge of Himself to a O-od, but God imparting His self-knowledge to man. Moreover, in our communications with others concerning ourselves, we are bound to the form of thought, and must take the capacity for knowledge as it is; but there is no such limitation with God, who Himself created the creature to whom He has determined to impart this self-knowledge, and thus was able to adapt this capacity for knowledge to His revelation. And, finally, it should be remembered that we can mutually come close to each other's heart, but can never penetrate each other's inner selves; while the door to the secret and innermost recesses of our being is open to God.

It was entirely correct, therefore, when in olden times it was additionally stated that ectypal Theology reveals to us the self-knowledge of God according to our human capacity; and that the necessity was felt in the eighteenth century (see De Moor, Comm. in Marck., Vol. I., p. 29) of limiting archetypal Theology to that self-knowledge of God, quam creaturae manifestare decreverat, i.e. "which he had decreed to reveal to the creature." In itself this was correctly viewed; in order to preserve the image of the type, the ectypal must be equal in extent and form to the archetypal. And yet this further explanation has not made the matter itself more clear, but more confusing, — both mechanically and intellectually. In the self-knowledge of God there are not ten parts, six of which he has decided to reveal unto us; but, though only "as in a glass darkly," the whole image has been reflected to us in Revelation. Neither will it do to interpret the revelation of God's self-knowledge as a merely intellectual communication, independent of Creation and the Incarnation; for this would cut in Revelation itself the main artery of religion.

Rather, therefore, than lose ourselves in this intellectualistic abstraction, we adopt the names of Archetypal and Ectypal Theology in the originally fuller sense, i.e. as standing in immediate relation to the creation of man after the image of God. As man stands as ectype over against God, the archetype, man's knowledge of God can therefore be only ectypal. This is what we meant when we called Theology a dependent knowledge — a knowledge which is not the result of an activity on our part, but the result of an action which goes out from God to us; and in its wider sense this action is God's self-revelation to His creature.

§ 60. Ectypal Theology the Fruit of Revelation

The ectype does not arise unless there is a material that can receive the impression of the archetype, and the act of impressing it on this material has taken place. And though in the preceding section it was maintained that the ectypal knowledge of God did not arise from our observation of God but from self-communication on the part of God, and consequently bears a dependent character, we do not assert, that for the acquisition of this knowledge of God the nature and disposition of the subject are indifferent. On the contrary, all revelation assumes (1) one who reveals Himself; (2) one to whom he reveals Himself; and (3) the possibility of the required relation between these two. In revelation, therefore, man (and more especially sinful many, who is to receive it, must be taken into account. If, as was done formerly, we exclusively consider Him who reveals Himself and that which He reveals, this revelation lies outside of man; the actual perception and assimilation are wanting; and the whole end of revelation is lost. In the second place, it will not do to interpret revelation as an announcement or communication of the one subject to the other subject, without taking due account of the fact that the subject God created the subject man, and that God wholly maintains and governs man from moment to moment; the result of which is, that He does not follow a way of communication that happens accidentally to be present, but that He Himself lays out the way of communication in keeping with His purpose. In the third place, it must be kept in view that the revelation of God is not an act of a single moment, but a continuous process, which extends itself across the ages, and in this extension does not purposelessly swing back and forth, but propels itself according to the motive contained in its idea, according to the nature of its successive content, and according to the nature of the bed which its stream must form for itself. In the fourth place, this revelation may not be interpreted as an atomistical self-communication of God to the several individuals, but must be taken as a revelation to man in his generations, i.e. to the organic unity of humanity, and only in this organic unity to the single man. And finally, in the fifth place, account must be kept of the special character which this revelation had to assume, both with regard to the act of revelation and its content, and the forming of its channel in the human spirit, in order, in spite of the obstruction of sin, to accomplish its original plan and to realize the purpose implied in its tendency. Though it is thus unquestionably true that in our sinful state we could never attain to a true Theology, i.e. a true knowledge of God, unless the form of revelation were soteriological, it is nevertheless necessary that in our representation of revelation also the fact be emphasized that the soteriological element is ever accidental, bears merely an intervenient character, and remains dependent upon the fundamental conception of revelation which is given in creation itself, and which teleologically looks forward to a state of things in which there shall be no more sin, so that every soteriological act shall belong to a never-returning past.

The first proposition therefore reads: God reveals Himself for His own sake, and not in behalf of man.

This only true starting-point for the real study of Revelation has been too much lost from view, not only in recent times, but even in the more prosperous periods of sound Theology. Even in the treatment of the dogma of "the necessity of sacred Scripture," the fact of sin was always taken as the point of departure, and thus the starting-point for Revelation was found in the soteriological necessity of causing light to arise in our darkness. A revelation before sin was, to be sure, recognized, but it was never successfully placed in relation to revelation in the theological sense ; and this was especially noticeable in the mechanical placing side by side of natural and revealed Theology. To repair this omission is therefore a necessity. Every interpretation of Revelation as given for man's sake, deforms it. You either reduce Revelation to the Creation, or cause it to occur only after the Creation. If you accept the latter view, you make it intellectualistic, and it can only consist, as the Socinian conceived, of an outward mechanical communication of certain data, commandments, and statutes. Thus, however, true revelation, which is rooted in religion itself, is destroyed. If for this reason you favor the other horn of the dilemma, viz. that Revelation goes back to Creation itself, then the motive for this Revelation cannot be found in man; simply because man was not yet in existence, and therefore could be no motive. For though it be asserted that, as the apostle Peter says, man was foreknown in the Divine decree before the creation, and that therefore Revelation could well point to this foreknown man, the argument is not valid. For in the decree a motive must have existed for the foreknowledge of man himself; and if it be allowed that this motive at least could lie only in God, it follows that Revelation also, even if it found its motive in man, merely tended to make man what he should be for the sake of God, so that in this way also Revelation finds its final end in God, and not in man.

But even this might grant too much. With a little thought one readily sees that Revelation is not merely founded in Creation, but that all creation itself is revelation. If we avoid the Origenistic and pantheistic error that the cosmos is coexistent with God; the pagan representation that God Himself labors under some higher necessity; and the Schleiermachian construction that God and the world were correlate, at least in the idea; and if, consequently, we stand firm in the sublime confession: "Ibelieve in God the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth," the motive for Creation cannot be looked for in anything outside of God, but only and alone in God Himself. Not in an eternal law (lex aeterna), a fate {fiolpa) or necessity (avay/cj;), nor in some need of God nature, nor in the creature that was not yet created. He who does not worship God as selfsufficient and sovereign, misconceives and profanes His Being. Creation neither can nor may be conceived as anything but a sovereign act of God, for His own glorification. God cannot be glorified by anything that comes to Him from without. By His own perfections alone can He be glorified. Hence creation itself is primarily nothing else than a revelation of the power of God; of the God Almighty, who as such is the Creator of heaven and earth.

If this is true of creation, and of the self-revelation of God which was effected in the creation, this must be true of all revelation, simply because the cosmos, and every creature in the cosmos, and all that is creaturely, are given in the creation. If you deny this, you make an essential distinction between all further revelation and the revelation in creation; you place it as a second revelation mechanically alongside of the first; and lapse again into the irreligious, intellectualistic interpretation of revelation. If, on the other hand, further revelation is not taken except in organic relation to the revelation given in creation, and thus is postulated by it, the motive of creation becomes of itself the motive of its manifestation; and all later revelation must likewise be granted to have been given us, not for our sake, but in the last instance for God's own sake. For though it is self-evident that the manner of operation of this revelation in every concrete case adapts itself to the disposition of the creature, and in this creature reaches its temporal end, yet in the last instance it only completes its course when in this operation upon or enriching of this creature it glorifies its Creator. When this revelation, therefore, leads to the creaturely knowledge of God, i.e. ectypal Theology, this knowledge of God is not given primarily for our benefit, but because God in His sovereignty takes pleasure in being known of His creature; which truth is thus formulated in Holy Scripture, —that God doeth all things for His Name's sake; sometimes with the additional words: not for your sakes, 0 Israel.

From this the second proposition follows of itself, that Divine Revelation assumes a creature capable of transposing this Revelation into subjective knowledge of God.

Revelation by itself would not be able to realize its aim. Imagine that there were no reasonable creatures, and that the creation consisted of nothing but entirely unconscious creatures, incapable of consciousness, the perfections of God revealed in His creation could not be evident to any one but God Himself. This, however, would be a contradiction in terms. He who is Himself the Author of revelation, knows the entire content of His revelation before He reveals it. Hence nothing can become known to Him by His revelation, which at first He did not know. This is possible in part with us. When by the grace of God a poet first carries a poetical creation in his mind, and afterwards reveals it in his poem, many things become known to him in this poem which at first were hid from him. This is accounted for by the fact that this poet was inspired in his poetic creation by a higher power, so that he himself did not know all the obscure contents of his imagination. With God, on the other hand, such cannot be the ease, simply because God cannot be inspired by one higher than Himself, and because there is nothing in His Being which He does not see with fullest clearness of vision. This implies that there can be no mystery for God, either in His Essence, counsel, or plan of creation; and hence nothing can become revealed or known to God by creation. By creation the contents of His virtues are in nothing enriched; in no particular do they become more glorious to Himself; hence there would be no revelation in creation or in any later activity of God, if there were no creature to whom all this could become the revelation of a mystery. For though we grant that God Himself sees and hears the beautiful in His creation; we deny that this display in creation is a greater joy to God than the view of His perfections in Himself. Every effort to seek a necessary ground in this sense for the creation of the cosmos results in cancelling the selfsufficiency of the Eternal Being, and in making God, by His creation, come to the knowledge and possession of His own divine riches; and by a little deeper thought this of itself leads back again to the theory of the world's coexistence with God.

The proposition of an unintentional revelation is equally untenable. This often happens with us, because the revelation of our person or of our disposition is not always under our control. Not only unintentionally, but sometimes against our intention and in spite of our purpose to the contrary, all sorts of things are constantly heard and seen of us, which it was by no means our desire to reveal. But this again you cannot apply to the Eternal Being, without lapsing into the anthropopathic representation of His existence. Such unintentional discovery of self to others results from a lack of power or insight, and from a consequent dependence upon many human data. Thus the omnipotence and absolute independence of God would be impaired, if in Him you assumed this unconscious, unintentional, and in so far accidental, revelation. His revelation postulates both the will and the purpose to reveal Himself, and this is inconceivable, unless there is at the same time a conscious being outside of God, which is able to appropriate what is revealed, and for which this revelation is intended. Though a star is praised for sparkling, which it does without knowing it, and a flower for the aroma that flows from its cup without this cup perceiving it, and though, in a similar strain, we praise the native simplicity of a beautiful character that radiates without effort and conscious aim, yet with no such conception can we approach the Lord our God, for He has nothing that He does not owe to Himself, and in no single particular is He a mystery to Himself. In Him whose is the highest and the most complete consciousness, there is no room for the conditions of semi- or total-unconsciousness. What the Confessio Belgica states in Art. 12, that all created things are "for the service of man, to the end that man may serve his God," applies also to the realm of revelation, since man is the creature, by whom whatever is creaturely on earth becomes the instrument of revelation of the attributes of God.

Our second proposition, however, implies more than this. The conscious creature is not only indispensable in order that revelation can be revelation, but that which is revealed must also be transposed by man into subjective knowledge of God and of His perfections. That which God reveals is conscious knowledge of Himself, before He reveals it. He is not a Light from which effulgence radiates, while He Himself does not know that light. His self-knowledge is absolute, and the impulse to reveal His perfections arises from His knowledge of them. And therefore this revelation of His perfections does not reach its aim nor point of rest until God is known. Hence, without ever giving themselves to intellectualism, the Holy Scriptures always put this knowledge of God in the foreground, and stand in prospect a "knowing of God as we are known." If Mozart had been a completely self-conscious musician, he would not have been able to develop his compositions otherwise than with the will and aim of finding performers and hearers who would not only hear his compositions and perform them, but would also understand them. And in like manner revelation flows from the archetypal knowledge of God and strives to become ectypal knowledge of God in man. Thus revelation itself is properly no Theology, but flows from the auto-Theology in God Himself and has Theology, i.e. knowledge of God in man, for its result.

This leads to our third proposition, viz. that man, in order to do this, must be adapted by nature, relation and process to interpret what has been revealed as a revelation of God and to reduce it to subjective knowledge of God.

It was the aim of propositions one and two to show that man did not come into being indifferent as to the manner how, and only afterwards revelation was added to him as an auxiliary, and was therefore adapted to his need; but that, on the contrary, revelation finds its end in God, and our human race was in its creation entirely adapted to this revelation. In this third proposition examine this original and necessary relation between revelation on the one side and the nature, relation and development process of our race on the other. And we point at once to the twofold office of man in revelation. He is not only to appropriate that which has been revealed, but he is himself a link in that revelation. This is exhibited most strongly in his logos, since by his logos he appropriates revelation to himself, and in his logos reflectively (abbildlich) reveals something of the eternal logos. If the cosmos is the theatre of revelation, in this theatre man is both actor and spectator. This should not be taken in the sense that, in what is revealed in him, he adds one single drop to the ocean of cosmical revelation, but rather, that man himself is the richest instrument in which and by which God reveals Himself. And he is this not so much on account of his body and his general psychical organization, but chiefly on account of that deepest and most hidden part of his being, in which the creaturely reaches its finest and noblest formation. And if, without lapsing into trichotomy, we may call this finest element in our human being the pneumatical, we define it as being both the choicest jewel in the diadem of revelation and the instrument by which man transmutes all revelation into knowledge of God. Both are expressed in the creation of man after the image of God. On one hand, one's image is his completest revelation, and on the other hand, from just that creation after God's image originates that higher consciousness of man, by which in him also the logos operates. This is what the older Theology called innate or concreate Theology (theologia innata or concreata), and to which the doctrine of faith must be immediately related.

To make this clear we must go back a moment to the first man, who, in so far as he represented our entire race, was no individual, and in whose case we do not yet need to reckon with the relation in which we stand to other men. It is evident that, when thus taken, Adam possessed in himself, apart from the cosmos, everything that was necessary to have knoivledge of God.

Undoubtedly many things concerning God were manifest to him in the cosmos also; without sin a great deal of God would have become manifest to him from his fellow-men; and through the process of his development, in connection with the cosmos, he would have obtained an ever richer revelation of God. But apart from all this acquired knowledge of God, he had in himself the capacity to draw knowledge of God from what had been revealed, as well as a rich revelation from which to draw that knowledge. Our older theologians called these two together the "concreate knowledge of God"; and correctly so, because here there was no logical activity which led to this knowledge of God, but this knowledge of God coincided with man's own self-knowledge. This knowledge of God was given eo ipso in his own self-consciousness; it was not given as discursive knowledge, but as the immediate content of self-consciousness. Even in our present degenerate condition, when much of ourselves can only be learned by observation, there is always a background of self-knowledge and of knowledge of our own existence, which is given immediately with our self-consciousness. Before the fall, when no darkening had yet taken place, this immediate self-knowledge must have been much more potent and clear. And thus it could not be otherwise but that in this clear and immediate self-knowledge there was, without any further action of the logos in us, an equally immediate knowledge of God, the consciousness of which, from that very image itself, accompanied him who had been created in the image of God. Thus the first man lived in an innate knowledge of God, which was not yet understood, and much less expressed in words, just as our human heart in its first unfoldings has a knowledge of ideals, which, however, we are unable to explain or give a form to. Calvin called this the seed of religion (semen religionis), by which he indicated that this innate knowledge of God is an ineradicable property of human nature, a spiritual eye in us, the lens of which may be dimmed, but always so that the lens, and consequently the eye, remains.

In connection with this, now, stands faith, that wonderful Ttuttk, the right understanding of which has been more and more lost by the exclusively soteriological conception of our times. Of course as a consequence of the fall faith also was modified, and became faith in the Saviour of the world. But the form which anything has received as a consequence of sin can never be its proper or original form; and it is equally absurd to look upon saving faith as a new spiritual sense implanted for the first time by regeneration. Nothing can ever be added to man by regeneration which does not essentially belong to human nature. Hence regeneration cannot put anything around us as a cloak, or place anything on our head as a crown. If faith is to be a human reality in the regenerate, it must be an attitude (habitus) of our human nature as such; consequently it must have been present in the first man; and it must still be discernible in the sinner. To prove the latter is not difficult, provided it is acknowledged that ethical powers (sensu neutro) operate in the sinner also, even though in him they appear exclusively in the privative, i.e. sinful form. Taken this way, the pistic element is present in all that is called man; only in the sinner this pistic element assumes the privative form, and becomes unfaith (airiaria). If sin is not merely the absence of good (carentia boni), but positive privation (actuosa privatio), airiaria also is not only the absence of faith (absentia fidei), but the positive privation of faith (actuosa fidei privatio), and as such sin. By overlooking this distinction our earlier theologians came to speak of the innate knowledge of God (cognitio Dei innata) as an attitude (habitus), which properly invited criticism. Cognitio can be no habitus. But while they expressed themselves incorrectly, they were not mistaken in the matter itself; they simply failed to distinguish between concreate theology (concreata), and faith which is inseparable from human nature. Faith indeed is in our human consciousness the deepest fundamental law that governs every form of distinction, by which alone all higher "Differentiation" becomes established in our consciousness. It is the daring breaking of our unity into a duality; placing of another ego over against our own ego; and the courage to face that distinction because our own ego finds its point of support and of rest only in that other ego. This general better knowledge of faith renders it possible to speak of faith in every domain; and also shows that faith originates primordially from the fact that our ego places God over against itself as the eternal and infinite Being, and that it dares to do this, because in this only it finds its eternal point of support. Since we did not manufacture this faith ourselves, but God created it in our human nature, this faith is but the opening of our spiritual eye and the consequent perception of another Being, excelling us in everything, that manifests itself in our own being. Thus it does not originate after the Cartesian style from an imprinted idea of God, but from the manifestation of God in our own being to that spiritual eye which has been formed in order, as soon as it opens, to perceive Him and in ecstasy of admiration to be bound to Him. By faith we perceive that an eternal Being manifests Himself in us, in order to place Himself over against our ego, in the same way in which we discover the presence of light by our eye; but what this eternal Being is and what it demands of us, is not told us by faith, but by the innate knowledge of God, presently enriched by the acquired.

The discovery, the perception of a mightier Ego, which is above and distinct from our own ego, is therefore the starting-point of all religion and of all knowledge of God. If we were not created after God's image, this manifestation would affect us strangely and cause us fear; but since in virtue of our creation there is an affinity between our own ego and that other Ego revealing itself to us, the manifestation of that mighty Ego affects us pleasantly, it fascinates and satisfies us with a feeling of infinite rest. It appeals to us. And as all revelation finds its completion only in this, this appeal becomes at length a speaking to us. There is fellowship between that peace-bringing Being, that reveals itself to us, and our own ego. He is the heavenly Friend, who does not merely reveal himself as a silent presence, but who, asking for our word in prayer, addresses us in the highest utterances of spirit, i.e. in the transparent word, and only in thus speaking to us becomes our God, unto whom goes out the worship of our hearts. In this way only does man know his God; not with a knowledge of Him or concerning Him, but in such a way that with the deepest utterance of the soul he knows his God personally; not yet with the full vision, but with something already of the seeing of face to face lost by sin, and only to be perfected in the full unfolding of our nature. Thus there is a revelation of God about us and within us, and the latter culminates in the personal knowledge of the living God, as a God who dwells among and associates with us, and allows us to associate with Him. He who understands it differently from this separates Revelation from religion, and degrades it to an intellectualistic communication of certain facts or statutes. For the fact must not be abandoned that religion germinates only when it attains unto that which is written of Enoch, viz. that he walked with God. Neither knowledge nor pious feeling by themselves can ever be called religion. Only when your God and you have met each other and associate and walk together, does religion live in your heart.

But even this does not fully construe the conception of innate theology. The distinction between the seed of religion and faith, both of which are increated in our human nature, explains how from the side of God a revelation takes place in us, and how our ego is disposed to observe this revelation in us, but this by itself does not give us any theology yet, i.e. knowledge of God. Even though revelation in us on the one hand, and the working of our faith on the other hand, have so far advanced that at length we have perceived God in us and consequently know God, we have as yet no knowledge of God, and hence no theology. I may know a number of persons in the world whom I have met, whose existence has been discovered to me, and of whom I have received general impressions, while yet I have no knowledge of them. That I may have knowledge of him whom I have met, the logical action must first take place. When I have met some one and thus know him, I inquire about him, or seek an interview with him, that I may obtain knowledge of his person. And such is the case here. Though God works and manifests Himself in our being, and though I have the power of faith to perceive this inworking and this manifestation, this produces nothing in me beyond perceptions, impressions and feelings; while I am left to the mysticism of my emotions. If from this mysticism I want to advance to knowledge, and transform revelation into theology, the logical action must enter in between; perception must pass over into thought; impression must sublimate itself into a conception; and thus the seed of religion must unfold the flower-bud in the word; viz. the word of adoration. Hence this logical action also was included in innate theology; simply because otherwise it could have been no theology. This, however, should not be taken in the sense that Adam was created with some sort of a catechism in his head; for logical action presumes subjective action of the human mind. If, therefore, we should speak with entire accuracy, we should say that there was no increated theology in Adam, but that he was so created, that, in his awakening to self-consciousness, he arrived of necessity at this original theology from the data that were present in him. In a literal sense respiration was not increated in Adam, for the first inhalation only came when the creation was completed, while before the creation was ended he could not draw breath. Breathing is an action of the person which comes only when the person exists. Since all the conditions for breathing are given in our nature, and every person born in this nature breathes of himself and from necessity, no one hesitates to acknowledge that respiration is inborn with us all. It were mere prudery, therefore, to object to the expression of innate or concreate theology; for though theoZo<7# is the result of a logical action in the subject, with Adam this logical action took place immediately and from necessity; and it was by this alone that the receiving of an oral revelation was already possible in paradise. For it is plain that the entire representation which the Scripture gives us of the intercourse with God in paradise, of the fall and subsequent promise, becomes unintelligible and falls away, if we assume in Adam exclusively the sense of the eternal, and deny him all conscious knowledge of God. Language itself decides the case. Speech without language is inconceivable, and he who in contradiction to the Scriptures declares that the first man could utter at most a few vague sounds, but was not in possession of language, wholly denies thereby the Christian doctrine of creation and the fall, and consequently of the Salvation in Christ. If, on the other hand the original man, to speak with Heraclitus, possessed a language by ^wrt?,i the very possession of that language assumes a logical action which is immediate, regular and pure equally with our respiration. And if from the nature of the case this logical action was originally limited with reference to its content to what man perceived in himself, and, in his inner perceptions, the perception of God stood majestically in the foreground, it is evident that the first natural action of the human consciousness could have been no other than the necessary translating into knowledge of God of the inner sensibilities and perception effected in him by God Himself. And on this ground we hold that innate or concreate theology presumes three factors: (1) the inworking and manifestation of God Himself in Adam's inner being; (2) faith, by which the subject perceives and grasps this inworking and manifestation; and (3) the logical action, by which of himself and of necessity he reduces this content in his heart to knowledge of God, in the form of thought and word.

From this it does not follow that one of these three factors should fall outside of Revelation. With none of these three factors do we overstep the boundary of creation, and all creation as such belongs to the domain of revelation. This does not need to be shown of the first factor. The action of God in our being is of itself revelation. But this same thing is true also of the second factor: faith. For what is faith but the sympathetic drawing of the image (Abbild) to the original (Urbild); and what is there revealed in this faith but that God has created us after

i In opposition to the conventional theory of Democritus, Heraclitus tanght that language was produced in us by the impressions received from the objects in or around us. So Democritus taught a language by 8tnt, he by <t>wis.

Himself, for Himself, and to Himself? And concerning the third factor, viz. the knowledge which is the result of the logical action, what expresses itself in this but the reflective (abbildliche) working in us of that Logos, which is in God and itself is God? The whole man, therefore, in his existence, in his relation to God, in his communion with, and his knowledge of, God, is originally but one rich revelation of God to man. At a later period revelation may also come to him from without; but it begins by being in him, as an immediate result of his creation.