Two types of clarity

As noted earlier, I've just finished reading Mark Thompson's excellent book on the clarity of Scripture: A Clear and Present Word. Clearly (excuse the pun) this doctrine is timely and important - in a world where people claim that the Bible either can't be understood, or can be understood any way we choose, or has been misunderstood for centuries (and now we have it right!), or requires the church to understand it for us, a right and carefully thought out understanding of this topic is vital.

One thing which struck me on this reading was Luther's precise articulation of different types of clarity in Scripture. First, there is the external clarity of the Bible. "God has graciously chosen to express himself in the ordinary conventions of human language." (A Clear and Present Word, 148-9) This is what makes the comprehension and context questions of a Bible Study possible. We can translate it, read it, understand it. We can see structure in composition and rhetorical argument. It is clear because God has accommodated himself to human language (although of course its God's language to start off with!).

Secondly, however, there is as Luther describes, an internal clarity. That is, to understand the Bible as what it truly is, the revelation of God to us, which requires the Spirit of God in us. "Understanding in the true Christian sense, is more than making sense of the words on the page [...] Scripture remains God's word by which he addresses the human heart. God's clear word is made clear to believers by God." (A Clear and Present Word, 149). And this of course, is the glorious 'a ha!' moment in a Bible Study. When we hear God speaking to us through the text. When we are brought face to face with the glory of God in Christ, and respond in repentance and faith, and praise and proclamation.

Simul Justus et Peccator

Kolb and Arand on Luther's view that as Christians we will always remain righteous and sinful:

'We should not take Luther's simul to mean that a person is partially a sinner and partially righteous, as if one could quantify it in terms of percentages. That would be to think of the Christian in terms of oneself, in terms of a person's progress upward on a spiritual continuum, whereby one's sinfulness gradually diminishes as one grows in righteousness either psychologically or ontologically. [... Rather Luther] views the human person relationally and holistically. [...] The Christian is simultaneously completely and totally righteous in the eyes of God, even as the believer is completely and totally sinful when considered in and of oneself. This double character of a totus-totus existence remains through all of life up to the very moment that Christ raises us from the dead. Because we are both - completely and simultaneously - until death, there is a constant psychological movement between the two poles.' (p.49)

Maybe we should change the gospel...

In The Genius of Luther's Theology by Kolb and Arand, the authors suggest that we should primarily understand 'gospel' in terms of promise:

'While "good news" provides an etymological translation of euangelion (gospel), it runs the risk of being viewed primarily as information about yesterday's events. Like a newspaper, it deals with past events, in this case, the past events of Jesus's earthly life. But when that happens, faith can be seen as little more than a form of intellectual activity, what the reformers criticized as historical faith. Such faith cannot by itself save since even the devils believe that Jesus died and rose. By itself, the biography of Jesus is not yet gospel. It becomes gospel when it grasps the sinner with the promise that Christ lived, died and rose "for you!" and "for me!" and "for us!"' (p.42).

I am not sure about the idea that the NT is only gospel once it 'grabs' someone - I think in itself it is a promise from God. However, I do think this emphasis on promise is helpful. Later on the authors note that:

'A promise without faith accomplishes nothing, But faith without a promise has nothing to which it can cling. For Luther and Melanchthon, the promise of new life in Christ and faith in that same promise were corollaries. A promise by its very nature seeks a response. [...] At the same time, Luther stressed that trusting the promise is not an accomplishment that we can claim for ourselves. On the contrary, faith is the work and gift of God, who justifies a person by giving faith to that one. To that end the promise of the gospel itself creates and sustains that which it seeks: faith.' (p.45)

I like this idea of relating the gospel and faith as promise and response. It helps tie faith to the gospel, rather than have it as a free-floating virtue. Modern culture loves the idea of 'faith' - one (obscure) example that springs to mind is the Prince of Egypt cartoon that (more or less) faithfully renders the story of Moses and the Exodus. However, the big lesson is that you have to have faith - but faith's object is never proclaimed. However, if we think of faith as response, to say 'you just have to respond' immediately begs the question 'to what?!'