Monthly Archives: June 2012

Theology Around the Blogosphere — June Edition

Chatting with Theologians:
Sarah Coakley’s Gifford Lectures have been posted online.
Interview with N.T. Wright. Miroslav Volf’s Kuyper Lecture at Gordon College — “A Public Faith: A Christian Alternative to Secular and Religious Political Exclusivism”.

Soteriology and Sanctification:
Tim Challies’ 12 Propositions on Sanctification from J.C. Ryle. Tim also outlines what sanctification is and is not (from a reformed perspective). Allan Bevere takes another look at the Wesleyan Quadrilateral. Travis McMaken on Dan Migliore and Soteriology. Why Christus Victor is not Enough.

#mutuality 2012:

Julie Clawson’s series on Christian Feminism. Calling women to attend this year’s ETS Conference: Mike Bird, Leslie Keeney and me. The Trinity and Gender by David Congdon.

Trinity:
In honour of Trinity Sunday, a reflection on the procession of the Trinity. Is The Eternal Generation of the Son biblical?

Reviews:
Wes Vander Lugt reviews “Mapping Modern Theology: A Thematic and Historical Introduction” by Kelly Kapic and Bruce McCormack. Rod interacts with Larry Hurtado’s “Lord Jesus Christ.” Nick Norelli reviews Kevin Giles’ The Eternal Generation of the Son: Maintaining Orthodoxy in Trinitarian Theology. Jordan Barrett reviews Barth’s “The Word of God and Theology”. Gavin Ortlund interacts with Goldsworthy’s “Christ-Centered Biblical Theology”.

Review of Kenneth Oakes, Reading Karl Barth: A Companion to Karl Barth’s Epistle to the Romans.
Review of Kenton Sparks’ Sacred Word, Broken Word: Biblical Authority and the Dark Side of Scripture.

Book announcement: Wipf and Stock has just released Evangelical Calvinism.

Barth, Barth and More Barth
Dr. Guretzki provided some great commentary on the Barth conference news at Princeton – one, two, three, four. Daniel Kirk continues working through the Church Dogmatics. Travis McMaken on the difference between Rational and rationalistic in CD I/1. And Darren asks What if Barth was an American Theologian?

Miscellaneous:

Ken Schenck talks about Augustine’s On Christian Doctrine (and here). Speaking of Augustine, Gavin Ortlund interacts with Henry Chadwick’s book on Augustine.

Carmen takes us through some Catholic theology: one, two, three, four.

The theological origin and, hopefully, end of modernity. Let’s get our Theological Priorities Straight.. Scot McKnight on “The God within Heresy”. Roger Olson on heresy and heretics.

Darren at Out of Bounds asks Does Jesus Have Two Minds? Joel Willitts takes a look at Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Ashsish Varma on Tolkien as theologian. Julie Clawson has a worship confession. Rod writes about science fiction and Christology.

Getting the Reformation Wrong


A Review of James’ Payton’s GETTING THE REFORMATION WRONG: CORRECTING SOME MISUNDERSTANDINGS (IVP 2010)

The purpose of the book is to suggest some ways in which scholars, churches, laypeople, historians, and even the Reformers themselves misunderstood or misrepresented the Reformation. In twelve chapters, Dr. Payton explores the medieval background that laid the ground work for the Reformation, as well as the relationship between the Reformation and the Renaissance. He looks at Luther and Luther’s interaction and conflict with other Reformers. He explores the two sola statements that are foundational for Protestants: sola fide and sola scriptura. He looks at the Anabaptists, and the Counter Reformation in Rome. He considers the post-Reformation shift toward Protestant Scholasticism. And, in the final three chapters, he asks if the Reformation was a success, if it is a norm for Protestantism today, and if it was a triumph or a tragedy. The book, written for both college history classes and pastors, is readable and engaging, with clearly outlined chapters that make it easy to follow along in his dissection of how we get the Reformation wrong.

The overall strength of Payton’s book is that he continually demonstrates that the Reformation was not a monolithic event. From different educational backgrounds (scholastic versus Christian Humanism), to different foci (reforming theology versus reforming preaching and church life) and different personalities (Luther versus Zwingli), the Reformation was diverse. Even later movements within the Reformation, such as Anabaptism, were not one united group. As well, Payton emphasizes that reform took place in many different contexts, and not only after the nailing of the Theses on the doors at Wittenberg. Even within the Roman Catholic church, Payton outlines four strands of Reform that were occurring in the Church prior to Luther, as well as three strands that occurred after Luther, and that only the Council of Trent contained a direct response to the Protestant Reformation.

A second strength of the book is Payton’s analysis of sola fide and sola scriptura, as they are doctrines at the heart of twenty-first century evangelicalism, which finds its history in the Reformation. Payton points out that sola does not mean solitary, and that modern Protestants who jettison tradition, history and reason in the name of being true to the cry of the Reformation ultimately misunderstand the Reformation. The Reformers never suggested that tradition did not have a place in the life of the Church. Indeed, the Reformers recovered tradition by re-examining and reappropriating the writings of the Early Church Fathers in their attempt to bring reform to a Church that had become bogged down in layers of ecclesiastical bureaucracy that “increasingly obscured the foundation of the Christian faith until that foundation could hardly even be discerned.” They did not abandon tradition, instead they used tradition to clear the path that had grown over.

Contemporary Protestants, particularly those who pride themselves on being “biblical,” need to keep in mind that the Reformers heartily embraced the creeds and councils of the Early Church. What is key is that sola, instead of meaning ‘solitary,’ means more precisely ‘supremely.’ Scripture is the supreme authority, not the only authority. Instead, it is the only authority that is unquestioned. Likewise, sola fide does not mean “solitary faith,” nor does it mean that salvation is something that can be separated from a life of discipleship.

There are two possible weaknesses in Payton’s presentation of the Reformation. First, the relationship that Luther had with scholasticism is a little bit confusing in Payton’s book. In chapter four, Payton does a good job of contrasting the pedagogical emphases of Luther and other Reformers like Erasmus, Zwingli and Bucer. Luther employed a scholastic approach, finding one locus, in this case justification by faith, through which all other theological data are understood. Payton emphasizes that Luther delighted in the vitriol of the scholastic method of debate, over and against the Christian humanists who found it unseemly for Christians to participate in. But, later in chapter nine, Payton argues that Luther was a strong critic of scholastic theology. This feels a little bit like whiplash, given that he emphasizes how scholastic Luther was. Granted, Payton does show that Luther’s scholastic approach is grounded in justification by faith rather than Aristotelian reason, which differentiates him from other scholastic theologians, but given that these chapters can possibly be read independently of each other, some clarification in the earlier chapter of Luther’s relationship with scholasticism would have been helpful. Indeed, given that Payton’s purpose in writing this book is to clear up misunderstandings with regards to the Reformation, he seems to create a possibility of misunderstanding, especially for students or pastors who are not necessarily going to read about Luther in other books, by creating two different portraits of Luther,

A second weakness of the book is that, save for a brief discussion of Martin Bucer’s time in England, Payton does not discuss the Reformation in England. Indeed, if there are misunderstandings about the Reformation, the role of Henry VIII in the formation of the Church of England would be one that the church continues to misunderstand. That being said, Payton does briefly draw attention to the short-lived Reformation in Eastern Europe, an area of study that he notes is often overlooked in textbooks on the Reformation.

On a reflective note, there are several points that are impacting my journey as a graduate student in theology. First, In his section on the tragedy of the Reformation, Dr. Payton notes that the inheritors of the Reformation have actually undone the work of the Reformers. Where the Reformers had reclaimed the Gospel from under layers of ecclesial bureaucracy, modern Protestants have reburied the gospel under layers of “denominational clutter” and “doctrinal distinctiveness” . The early Reformers did not seek to create new denominations, and yet today there are thousands of Protestant denominations, and Protestantism has been afflicted by serious intra-Protestant conflict. He writes, “Our penchant for division stands in stark contrast to Christ’s concern in his prayer for unity.” And Dr. Payton is right.

But at the same time, what does unity mean? Is true unity evidenced by there being only one (or only a few) denominations? At what point does unity become an excuse for not confronting doctrinal error, or a tool for avoiding conflict? These are the questions that I personally am wrestling with as I am currently attending a church which belongs to a denomination that at times seems to do just that; it fails to discipline leaders who no longer believe Jesus is the only way to God, or who deny the Resurrection, the Trinity and other essential doctrines, all for the sake of keeping unity of the body. And yet, Protestants, and in particular evangelicals, do need to heed Payton’s strong criticism: our church splits and doctrinal disputes have “rendered the gospel less credible in the eyes of the world.”

In asking the question “Was the Reformation a Success?” and analyzing whether the Reformation was a triumph or a tragedy, Payton takes an almost negative attitude towards the success of the Reformation in terms of how its legacy has contributed to the twenty-first century church. He notes that the Reformation successfully unburied the Christian faith from layers of bureaucracy and superfluous doctrines that clouded the Gospel message. Unfortunately, the heirs of the Reformation have succeeded in re-burying the Gospel message through its continued intra-denominational disagreements. The Reformation is double-edged, both triumph and tragedy, and that for all the ‘success’ that we like to ascribe to the Reformers, their work was not without personal sacrifice, nor without the tragedy of intra-Protestant conflict. This negative (or realistic) understanding of the impact of the Reformation is an important corrective to the happy-clappy shiny optimism the modern evangelical church has of its Reformation roots.

Second, Payton continually emphasizes the role that the Early Church Fathers played in the Reformers’ writings. He also notes that up until a few decades ago, patristic studies had fallen out of favour in seminary and bible college curriculum. But he goes on to note that “the first generation of the twenty-first century counts more patristic scholars in the broader evangelical world than in any generation since the time of the Reformers themselves.” As I continue to study the theology of Karl Barth, and prepare to write my masters’ thesis on his doctrine of sanctification, I am keenly aware of the role the Early Church Fathers play in Barth’s Church Dogmatics. As a result, I find Dr. Payton’s point that the Reformers would point to the Patristics as the golden age of Christianity, and called their churches to emulate the ancient church, to be extremely encouraging and relevant for those of us doing theological studies today.

The Never-Ending Race of Virtue

In the Life of Moses, Gregory writes in response to the question: What is the perfect life?

Even though he will explore the question by using Moses as a template for the pursuit of a virtuous life, he actually starts his treatise with a reflection on Philippians 3:13-14 because “that divine Apostle, great and lofty in understanding, ever running the course of virtue, never ceased straining toward those things that are still to come.” (I, 5)

For Gregory, perfection comes in the process, which is quite different from the neoplatonism of his day, that understood perfection as fixed and unchanging. And because the process is what is important, Gregory argues that the pursuit of virtue can never cease in this lifetime. It is an infinite process without end in this life. For each time a new level of virtue is reached, the Christian looks on the horizon and sees that she hasn’t reached the end, but that there is indeed more to pursue.

Not only that, if a Christian stops pursuing virtue it does not mean that she has merely stopped, but, in fact, she has traded one race for another:

“Just as the end of life is the beginning of death, so also stopping in the race of virtue marks the beginning of the race of evil.” (I, 6)

This is because God is himself absolute virtue (I, 7), and so the pursuit of virtue is participation in God. To abandon this pursuit is to abandon God.

On Wicked Weather, Community, and Life

Yesterday we had some wicked weather. It had been hot and humid all day which is not typical Saskatchewan weather. Indeed, it was so muggy that I felt like I was back in Hamilton (minus the smog of course!) And then in the early evening, the clouds rolled in. The storm chasers were out as almost the entire province was under a tornado warning.

So what do the fine residents of 5th ave in Caronport do? Why we stand out on the street and watch the storm roll in! Nevermind that this one cloud (in the picture above) was a rotating swirling violent cloud. Nope until the fire truck sirens went off we all stood and stared.

At the sound of the sirens we all scurried into our houses and down to the basements…for a few minutes anyway. The cloud quickly passed, and we were back out on the street staring up into the heavens. Adults, kids, babies. Some of us had cameras in hand; others had glasses of wine.

Meanwhile across the highway, not more than twenty minutes to the south, an actual tornado had formed:

According to the storm chasers it stayed on the ground for about ten minutes.

And then the thunderstorm came, full of fury and lightning, thunder and hail. Once more we ran into our houses. But as soon as the rain passed, out we all came again.

What a strange way to build community.

A wicked and potentially devastating storm draws out the neighbours. Community and conversations were abundant in a way that I have not yet experienced in this town. Even neighbours who are rarely seen out made an appearance. And with school finished tomorrow, families will be leaving on vacation, the town will get even more quiet than it already is since the college kids left in April. So, for a few short hours, the threat and thrill of the storm allowed the residents of 5th ave to share in one last block party.

Living in Caronport

Well we are officially under a tornado watch. The epicenter of the storm is supposedly a 100 km circle around Moose Jaw, which means we’re right in the middle of it.

From the official community email:

With the recent predictions of an increased risk of severe weather in our area, the Fire Dept. wants to remind Caronport residents that the lower floor of the Food Services building (Green Room) and the lower hallways of the high school/college/music rooms will be available for residents who want to seek shelter. These structures are deemed to be among the safest in our community during a storm and have several exits for after a possible event passes over. If the local Fire Dept. receives adequate warning ahead of a pending tornado, fire trucks with sirens will circle through the residential areas to give warning. American statistics indicate that those living in mobile home parks are at higher risk of injury/death from tornados. There are also many good websites that give advice on the making preparations and finding the safest places to take refuge in your own home; small windowless rooms on the lowest level of your home are usually thought to be safest.
Rod Appleby, Fire Chief

So the Cheese-wearing family is sticking close to home with a well stocked basement all ready to go just in case.

Prayers would be appreciated, especially for those Caronport families that live in mobile homes.

Sunday Meditation

Deification is not simply a reflection on the historical role of Christ in the salvation of humankind, as Christ’s soteriological presence in the process of the divine economy that impacts everyday human life. The process of reconciliation and glorification that was accomplished by Christ requires active human participation. It is a transformative experience that enables human beings to become not who Christ is but what he is. Thus, theosis is not merely another term for salvation or sanctification.

~ Vladimir Kharlamov

AttiTUDE

I had a bad day yesterday. It was a “find aggressive music and beat something up” type of day.

I made an “AttiTUDE” playlist on my iTunes. I played it at full volume. And I didn’t care if I scandalized my neighbours with Bitch, Mr. Hurricane and I Want it All. In fact I was daring people to judge me.

Come on; tell me how bad a Christian I am for listening to this music. I dare you.

Come on; tell me that I fail as a wife and mother. I dare you.

Come on; tell me that I’m not an ideal seminary student. I dare you.

I was aggressive. I was growling on the inside. I danced and sang to the music. And it felt awesome.

I didn’t tryto hide my frustration and my anger and my rage, I embraced it. It made it better. The emotion passed. Because I didn’t swallow it and hide it, it didn’t manifest itself as stress or sleeplessness or despair. A couple of hours of pounding music and snarling and it was gone.

Friends came to supper. And the most encouraging thing to hear is that they go through that too. And they didn’t look down on me for what I was going through.

Wahoo! People like me. I’m not alone.

I glimpsed community last night. We ate steak and chicken. The kids ran wild and played in the street. We debated whether or not Chris Nolan can/will kill off Batman. We got eaten by ten million mosquitoes. We told our “first” Joss Whedon stories. A friend declared that the worst part of Firefly was the Simon and River storyline: “I don’t care about Simon’s man-pain!” We ate pound cake and strawberries. (And no, I didn’t have time to bake so it’s just store-bought dessert tonight, so deal with it.)

Why is it that we’re taught that Christians are supposed to be happy-clappy all the time?

The fake standards we put on ourselves are just that: fake. How much damage does the happy-clappy veneer cause? Not only is it hiding what is truly there, but it makes it worse.

I’m done trying to conform to a fake ideal. I did for a while mostly as a survival mechanism. But it’s not me.

And if you don’t like that kind of honesty, that’s okay. But for those who are looking for something more than the fakeness, I think we’d be good friends.

And if you ever want to borrow my “AttiTUDE” playlist, you’re more than welcome!

Barth and Chalcedon

I’m giving a lecture on Karl Barth’s Christology today in class. So, I’m posting a section on Barth and Chalcedon that I’ll be talking about today.

******

In 451, the Council of Chalcedon was called to re-examine the decisions of the Second Council of Ephesus in 449, which Pope Leo had called the “Robber’s Synod.” At issue was the question: how is Jesus both human and divine? From Alexandria came the Docetists, who emphasized the deity of Christ over his humanity. There were of course mild and extreme versions of this teaching, from the deity being more important than the humanity, to the extreme that Christ’s humanity was merely an illusion. From Antioch came the Nestorians, who emphasized the humanity of Christ over the deity of Christ. In this understanding, the divine nature of Christ came not from his person but from his relationship to God the Father. In other words, Christ’s divinity was external to his nature.

As the council met, they reaffirmed Tertullian’s teaching that there are two natures in the one person of Christ, and instead of formulating a new creed, which they were reluctant to do , they chose to issue a ‘definition.’ This definition affirmed that Jesus was ‘truly God’ and ‘truly man,’ and that these two natures were to be seen “inconfusedly, unchangeably, indivisibly, inseparably; the distinction of natures being by no means taken away by the union, but rather the property of each nature being preserved, and concurring in one Person and one Subsistence, not parted or divided into two persons…”

The Chalcedonian Definition is characterized by two terms, ‘deity’ and ‘humanity,’ and one relationship, ‘unity-in-distinction.’ It is a statement that is intentionally minimalist in nature, allowing for flexibility and diversity of understanding as the Chalcedonian Definition does not actually define the terms or the relationship. As George Hunsinger notes, this suggests that “the Chalcedonian Definition is not determined exclusively by soteriological interests. It is also largely a hermeneutical construct.” In other words, the definition “merely reiterated that Jesus was both God and man, but made no attempt to interpret the formula.” It functions more as a paradigm rather than a rule of faith, as it is unconcerned with the ‘how,’ but instead emphasizes what ‘is.’ This allows, then, for mild forms of Alexandrian and Antiochian theology to both be considered within the boundaries of orthodoxy.

Ultimately the key to Chalcedon is to affirm that the “whole work of Christ is to be attributed to his person and not to the one or the other nature exclusively.” The work of Christ cannot be attributed solely to his deity or his humanity. In his earthly ministry, both the divine and the human were present; it was not merely his human flesh that suffered and died, nor at his resurrection was it just his divine nature that appeared. As Barth says of Christ’s ascension, when “…the New Testament witnesses look to him as the One who sits at the right hand of God and will come again from the heaven to which he has ascended, this does not mean that they have ceased to think of the real man Jesus.” This, of course, raises the question: is one position more correct than the other in this paradigm? Hunsinger suggests that, overall, the Alexandrian tendency is more correct in upholding Chalcedon than the Antiochian tendency. This is because, while the Antiochian position only affirms one term, ‘humanity,’ the Alexandrian position affirms one term, ‘deity,’ and the relationship, ‘unity-in-distinction.’


That Barth affirms Chalcedon is quite evident throughout the Dogmatics. The question becomes, then, whether Barth affirms the Definition of Chalcedon using the language and philosophical and theological definitions used by the council in 451.

Bruce McCormack suggests that Barth’s overall Christology underwent a profound shift after II/2. While Barth may, in CD I, affirm and use the ontological definitions of person and nature as understood in the original formula of Chalcedon, by CD IV, he only continues to uphold Chalcedon by redefining the terms, moving away from the terms person and nature, and instead focusing on the language of ‘history.’ As McCormack summarizes, “The result is that Jesus Christ is still seen as truly God, truly human, and is both in a single Subject. But he is seen to be all of this under quite different ontological conditions.” McCormack’s thesis, then, is that the statement that Barth is Chalcedonian “has far more validity for the Christological material found in CD I/2 than it does for the material found in the later doctrine of reconciliation.” McCormack argues that many Barth scholars made the mistake of reading and understanding Barth’s doctrine of reconciliation (CD IV) through the “lens provided by the Christology of CD I/2.”

On the other hand, George Hunsinger sees Barth affirming Chalcedon fairly uniformly throughout the Dogmatics. One of the ways Barth does this is by referring to ‘nature’ or ‘physis’ through the use of the German word, ‘Wesen’ rather than ‘Natur.’ Paul Dafydd Jones argues that, even as early as I/2, Barth hesitates to blindly accept the Greek metaphysical meaning behind ‘nature.’ “Indeed, the concept of ‘physis’ plays no significant role in the preliminary Christology of §15 which surrounds the excursion question, or, in fact, in any paragraph of the Dogmatics.” In §44, Jesus Man for God, for example, Barth does not shy away, nor does he fully rest on the language of ‘nature.’ But, in answering the question of whether Jesus was truly human, Barth uses ‘Wesen’ repeatedly to talk about the human nature of Christ. When discussing Christ’s being and oneness of being with God the Father, Barth uses the word ‘Sein.’

The question, then, is whether or not Barth shifts in his understanding of Chalcedon. While it is true that the Dogmatics were written over several decades, and there may indeed be a maturing or even a changing of Barth’s theology over the years, there seems to be, even in the early stages of his writings, an understanding of the fluidity of the Chalcedon formula. Patrick Patterson argues that, even as early as 1928, in corresponding with Rudolf Bultmann, Barth demonstrates “conceptual eclecticism,” that is, while appropriating language and creeds and philosophical constructs, Barth was not bound to them. For example, while Barth did indeed use the language and terms of Plato and Aristotle, “his own use of their terminology [does not] imply his having buckled on the armour of a particular philosophy.”

Indeed, Barth’s interaction with and use of Chalcedon, for all its inherent minimalism, is complex. Jones identifies two components to Barth’s use of Chalcedon. First, Barth sets out to use Chalcedon as a way to respond and react to 19th-century Liberal Protestantism. In responding to the likes of Schleirmacher, Harnack and Ritschl, Barth “argues that ‘nature’ has been improperly misunderstood. Early Christian writers used this term to describe the multi-dimensional totality of an entity…encompass[ing] the ‘physical’ and ‘ethical’ dimensions of the human being.”

Second, Barth’s use of Chalcedon is a vehicle to point to the simplicity and complexity of Scripture. Barth’s Christology is based first and foremost on the New Testament, rather than on a later philosophical or theological construction. Thus, Barth adopts Chalcedon as a “hermeneutical construct.” Following the pattern of the New Testament, Barth holds in tension the teaching that Jesus of Nazareth is the Son of God, and that the Son of God is Jesus of Nazareth. As Jones notes, “the unique name of Jesus Christ functions as something akin to a dogmatic synthetic a priori.” For Barth, the Chalcedonian Definition can be summarized by the simple statement: Jesus is “the Word made flesh” (John 1:14).

Coakley’s analysis of the usefulness of the Chalcedonian Definition and the fundamental difference between how the West and East understood the purpose of the formula may be useful here. While she does not directly reference Barth, it appears that in her description of the use of Chalcedon, Barth would embrace a more ‘Eastern’ understanding of the definition. That is, where the West understood the definition primarily as a rule, the East saw “beyond the limit” and turned the definition into something flexible enough to even be used in liturgical prayer. Barth takes an “Eastern” perspective on Chalcedon, exploring its flexibility and using it to go beyond the basic Christological question.

This can be seen in two ways. First, Barth alternates between an Antiochian and Alexandrian voice in his doctrine of Christology. This of course causes problems for scholars who, without reading all the way through Barth’s extended argument, charge Barth with either being Nestorian or Docetic. Because the definition is a paradigm with flexibility and with ambiguity as to the definition of the terms and the relationship between the two natures, Barth explores the boundaries of the paradigm, and indeed seems to be following the biblical pattern of “employing a diversity of idioms.”

Second, by exploring the flexibility of the definition, and by not being tied down to specific ontological terms, Barth is able to reapply the Chalcedonian Definition to construct his doctrine of vocation in IV.3.2. Here, Barth looks as the relationship between God (divine) and the Christian (human) in the calling to be witnesses. Thus, Barth reformulates the Chalcedonian Definition from being strictly Christological to being a vehicle in which to explore the overall relationship between the Divine and the human. Thus the two terms and relationship (divine, human and unity-in-distinction) can be redefined as ‘asymmetry,’ ‘intimacy,’ and ‘integrity.’

So the question then becomes: is the charge against Barth that he is Antiochian in his portrayal of the humanity of Christ accurate? That Barth is charged with Nestorianism (Antiochian tendency) is often the result of the critic’s “failure to appreciate Barth’s dialectical strategy of juxtaposition.” Of course this is easy to do, given that Barth often takes hundreds of pages to get to the other side of his dialectic. At its core, an Antiochian Christology understands Christ’s divinity coming not from his inherent nature, but from his relationship to God. In this position, Jesus’ relationship with God “is fundamentally extrinsic to the constitution of his person.”

Charles Waldrop argues that, while Barth does appear to take an Antiochian voice at various points in his Christology, the Antiochian elements that he embraces ultimately fit into an overall theological framework that is Alexandrian. Waldrop grounds this in Barth’s theology of revelation:

Just as the human words of Scripture and preaching remain creaturely realities although they become the Word of God when God speaks through them, so also the human nature of Jesus Christ becomes the Word of God in the event of revelation…This Antiochian conceptualization, however, is based upon the Alexandrian claim that Jesus is fully and absolutely identical with the Word of God who speaks through the human nature, Scripture, and preaching.


References:

Barth, Karl. Church Dogmatics. Eds. G.W. Bromiley and T.F. Torrance. Peabody: Hendrickson Publishers, 2010.

Blocher, Henri. “Karl Barth’s Christocentric Method,” in Engaging with Barth: Contemporary Evangelical Critiques, eds. David Gibson and Daniel Strange, 21-54. New York: T &T Clark, 2008.

Coakley, Sarah. “What Does Chalcedon Solve and What Does it Not? Some Reflections on the Status and Meaning of the Chalcedonian ‘Definition’”, in The Incarnation: An Interdisciplinary Symposium on the Incarnation of the Son of God, eds. Daniel Kendall, Stephen Davis and Gerald O’Collins, 143-163. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002.

Gonzalez, Justo. The Story of Christianity volume 1: The Early Church to the Dawn of the Reformation. San Francisco: Harper Collins, 1984.

Hunsinger, George. How to Read Karl Barth: The Shape of His Theology. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993.

________. “Karl Barth’s Christology: Its Basic Chalcedonian Character,” in Disruptive Grace: Studies in the Theology of Karl Barth, 131-147. Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing, 2000.

Jaspert, Bernd, ed. Karl Barth – Rudolph Bultmann: Letters, 1922-1966, trans. and ed. by Geoffrey Bromiley. Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing, 1981.

Jones, Paul Dafydd. The Humanity of Christ: Christology in Karl Barth’s Church Dogmatics. London: T&T Clark, 2008.

McCormack, Bruce. “Karl Barth’s Historicized Christology,” in Orthodox and Modern: Studies in the Theology of Karl Barth, 201-231. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2009.

Patterson, Patrick. “Chalcedon’s Apprentice: Karl Barth and the Twentieth-Century Critique of Classical Christology.” Toronto Journal of Theology 16 (2000): 193-216.

Schaff, Philip. The Creeds of Christendom, vol. 1. New York: Harper Brothers, 1878.

Thompson, John. Christ in Perspective: Christological Perspectives in the Theology of Karl Barth. Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing, 1978.

Van Til, Cornelius. “Karl Barth on Chalcedon.” Westminster Theological Journal 22 (1960): 147-166.

Waldrop, Charles. “Karl Barth’s Concept of the Divinity of Jesus Christ.” Harvard Theological Review 74 (1981): 241-263.